Night Lights
By
Alison M Pearce

The dilapidated, old highway was deserted and lonely. The new freeway had been built five years ago to the north of town; leaving this one go to ruin. Now, rarely used and never taken care of, it was dotted with numerous potholes and the edges of the tarmac were rapidly eroding, making the road narrower and more dangerous with every passing year.

The tree line of the surrounding hardwood forest was creeping slowly closer, standing like sentinels watching her every move. Underbrush and tangled weeds were taking hold of the previously well maintained median strips in primal triumph.

The full harvest moon shone low and heavy on the horizon, its dappled, ghostly, yellow light filtering through the trees, creating eerie shadows. Ordinary objects were suddenly turned into sinister, shapeless forms that wavered and changed and seemed somehow to take on a life of their own. No street lights remained on this abandoned stretch of road, and any sign of civilisation was totally obscured by the dense foliage huddling at the base of the trees.

Meg passed another faded old road post, which a moment ago she had been almost certain was some large, shadowy figure lying in wait for unsuspecting travellers like her. Nervously she giggled at her own silliness, dragging a shaky hand through her thick black hair. And yet a nagging sense of anxiety remained. Hurrying along at a dangerous pace, she mumbled to herself in an attempt to keep calm.

“You shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine, you fool,” she scolded herself, “It’s making you paranoid!” Switching the radio on for company, Meg was annoyed to find that every channel emitted nothing but an ear piercing and irritating screech of static.

She was wondering what on earth had possessed her to take this hazardous and creepy back road when a blinding burst of brilliant white light, coming from a low hill that she’d passed only seconds before, illuminated her small green hatchback. The glow seemed to fill the interior of the vehicle like a supernatural mist.

Startled, she raised her hands to cover her dazzled eyes and momentarily lost control of the car. It was skidding dangerously to the left when she pulled her senses together enough to clutch the steering wheel tightly with clammy hands and bring it back under her dubious control. For one horrifying moment Meg was unable to recall where she was or why she was here. An overpowering urge to scream welled in her throat, but she was unable to utter a single sound.

Feeling paralysed, the thought occurred to her that she could not possibly be in control of the car and wondered how it was managing to continue moving without her conscious input.

Suddenly the pure white light was joined by periodic bursts of coloured lights accompanied by a high pitched, mechanical whirring noise. Meg began to panic. It was following her, she just knew it! She’d heard about this sort of thing happening on deserted roads but had always scoffed at the absurd reports. The sounds, the lights, the sheer isolation in which she had found herself forced an abrupt change in her clouded thinking.

Terror seized her and with it Meg found the will to force her leaden limbs to obey. She tried to accelerate away from her pursuers, but her tiny car was already under tremendous pressure from Meg’s mad dash down the winding, badly paved surface of the forgotten highway. There was no-one who even knew that she was out here on her own. What a damned fool she had been!

Swerving erratically all over the road as she tried to escape the approaching lights, Meg cried out vainly as twice she came within seconds of crashing into one of the huge, looming trees that gleamed ominously in the eerie light that enveloped the road and the edge of the forest.

The belaboured vehicle began to slow of its own accord, all the while, the following lights became brighter, the whirring louder. It thrummed in her head making her feel nauseous and disorientated. Feeling oddly disconnected from her body she imagined how others in this situation had reacted. Had they been afraid or angry or both?

Finally, with a loud cough and sputter the hatchback gave out. Meg managed to pull it over to the side of the road just as wisps of grey smoke seeped out from under the bonnet, gradually growing to a steady stream. Fruitlessly, she turned the key several times and thought fleetingly of escaping into the dark woods, but her legs refused to co-operate.

The noise and lights rose to a frightening crescendo and then suddenly there was complete silence. The lights remained hovering behind her, its colours flashing over her flushed skin. In its glow Meg raised a trembling hand to her mouth and waited stiffly, tears flowing down her pale cheeks. What would happen to her now? What sort of humiliation she be put through.

Through her fear hazed thoughts Meg was aware of the sound of metal moving against metal followed soon after by slow, ominous footsteps on the bitumen coming towards her. Meg wiped her face and sat up straight, determined to be brave.

Powerless to resist, she wound down her driver’s side window at the sharp tap and looked straight into dark eyes above her. Her own eyes reflected resignation and despair but she knew that she could do nothing to save herself now.

“Good evening Ma’am,” the constable said gruffly, “We have reason to believe that you have been drinking. Would you please blow into the bag?”

ENDS

© Alison Pearce 2007

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