Hitcher

By Alareic

An introduction to Hitcher.

The desert at the time of night was incredibly cold. Almost nothing moved except for the lone automobile that drove on the empty road. The sky was dotted with beautiful white stars, each different in their own ways, flaring up every now and then, and then dulling their light. Below them was a long stretch of road, the only road that drove through this part of the desert in New Mexico. There was one single car on the road, a '69 Chevelle SS. The loud engine was the only sound that could be heard over the varied croaks of the crickets.

Darkness had almost swallowed the road. The young woman driving the car blinked, and pushed the hair out of her eyes. They felt tired, almost as if iron weights were weighing her eyelids down, trying to close them. She had been fighting the urge for an incredibly long time. She began to wonder if it might be smart just parking on the side of the road and having a quick nap. Then again, there was probably no one else out on the road at this time of night. She hadn't seen anyone.

Her eyes fell to the green digital clock on the radio. It was 2:59 AM. Then, in a blink of an eye it changed to 3:00AM. She had to check into the college no later than nine o'clock or her spot would be taken. In the passenger seat beside the driver, there was a diploma with a name on it. The name was Heather Malone, a graduate from Riverside, New Mexico, a small rural town.

A crappy song was playing on the radio, so Heather turned off the radio. She moved her dark brown hair out of the way once again, and squinted at the road. All she could see were lines and lines, coming one after the other. Soon they began to become blurry as she focused on them for too long. She shook her head and then looked ahead of her. She was getting incredibly tired.

Suddenly, ahead of her, she could see a figure. It was tall and wide, but not exactly "fat". It had broad shoulders, and as the Chevelle edged closer, Heather could see that it was the figure of a man, wearing a long black trench coat and a hat. He was walking with his back to the light of the car, slowly, with his hands in his pockets. His face was bent up towards the sky as he walked slowly and comfortably. As Heather came closer, she wondered if the man was all right.

She felt compelled to offer this man a ride. It would be a bit scary at first, but Heather had her mace with her. It was odd, she felt compelled, driven to give him a ride by some kind of strange force. Her mother had always told her to never ever give hitchers rides… but this time, she had a feeling this was going to be a very different ride.

A/N: Hi there, I was walking my dog and this idea popped into my head. Please review, and I will update as soon as possible!