Things That Go Bump in the Night

Bump

I sigh. This is the fourth time I hit a pothole. I'm pretty sure I'll empty the contents of my stomach by the time I hit the sixth one.

Bump

Bile filled my throat and I do my best to repress my late lunch. It was a smart move to pack chicken sandwiches before I headed out. I hadn't come across a single rest stop for miles and it didn't seem like the darkness would lighten up anytime soon. Red light spelling 11:57 blinked back at me and I sigh once more. My destination was nowhere to be found and I was too far from home to turn back. Maybe I should have put away my pride and accepted my colleague's offer to guide me.

"In 200 meters, turn left at the roundabout," my GPS calmly instructs. Growing increasingly anxious of the dark, I turn as instructed. "You have arrived."

I slam my brakes and knock my head on the steering wheel. I have had it. All the stupid app led me to were dirt, rocks, and more dirt. No wonder it received a 2.4 rating on Google Store.

Thump

My spine stiffens as I carefully glance around without lifting my head. In my hazy mess of a mind, I initially thought I had run into another pothole, but my car wasn't moving at the moment. Too scared of the unknown, I stay in my curled up position, listening for any more sounds.

Click

My body automatically goes into flight mode at the signal of a switch blade being opened, pulling the door handle as fast as I can. The door doesn't budge. I realize too late that I haven't unlocked my car yet. A hand grabs my mouth and I suppress a scream, knowing a single movement might provoke the blade to slide underneath my throat. My eyes snap to the rearview mirror in hopes of identifying my attacker. Unfortunately, the limited lighting could only outline the shadow of a man - a man that could possibly leave me to be eaten by vultures in this barren wasteland.

Act natural. Just stay cool, calm, and collected. "Hello!" my voice squeaks and cracks at the last syllable.

Not cool dude. He'll probably throw you off a cliff now. .

As expected, the blade threatens to dig further into my skin. It splits open to allow a drop of blood to roll down to the base of my throat.

Or chop off your head.

"Help me please," the shadow whispers, colored with desperation.

Now that's unexpected. Shouldn't I be the one saying that?

He whimpers then drops the knife onto my lap. I notice it's stained with blood - too much blood to be mine. From behind, the figure clutches his abdomen and falls on the floor of the tiny space. I whirl around and switch on the roof light, the soft yellow exposing dark stains seeping onto the man's already dark dress shirt. His hand is pressed into the source, keeping any more blood from trickling down.

"Sorry about your seats," he rasps, indicating to the pools of red smeared here and there, as if they were the most important thing in this situation, "Don't worry, I didn't kill anyone, they're all mine."

Oh thank God. I needed to stay alive for a conference presentation. My company would lose face if I kept our sponsors waiting forever.

"Um, how did this happen?" my voice is steady now, no longer worried about becoming headless.

"Do you mean 'how did I get here' or 'why is there red liquid bubbling out of me'?"

"Both please,"

He sprawls his body across the backseat, trying his best to find a position to lessen the pain. "Got stabbed by ex-girlfriend's brother, hid here, fainted, woke up, and panicked. You forgot to lock your car by the way."

"Wow," my brain still refusing to accept such a simple explanation, "Your life must be a soap opera."

He groans, "Tell me about it."

An awkward silence ensues for a whole three seconds before I realize one of us might end up dying tonight. Reaching out to the glove box, I click it open to retrieve a brand new first aid kit. I send a quick thanks to my mom for forcing me to keep it for emergencies. Mother truly did know best.

"Here, let me," I offer as I hold up a saline solution. The money I used for sewing classes surely payed off this time. Who knew I would be stitching up knife wounds. It might not be perfect, but it will have to do for now. My hands wrap clean bandages around the gauze, making sure they are tight enough to stop the bleeding - maybe even a little too tight. Oops.

A loud ringing suddenly filled the quiet space, making both of us wince - him because I accidentally grazed his fresh wounds in my surprise. I quickly press the green button and bring it to my ear.

"Hey, where ar-"

"I'm so so sorry I didn't let you direct me to the place. Is the offer still on the table?" I quickly blurt out.

"Wha- Wait, do you think you're lost?" she questions in incredulity .

"I don't 'think', I know I am. I'm in a situation where I need to find civilization right now."

"KC, look behind you. There's a building right there," the caller slowly enunciates for me, like I was a kid.

"What are you talking about? How do you know where I am?" Genuine confusion washed over me.

"I saw car lights turn left then stop. I called to ask if that was you?"

The man gave me an unimpressed stare as he motioned his head to the building that was about a hundred meters behind us, brightly lit like it was yelling "I'm here! You took the wrong turn!" I didn't blame him though, I was pretty unimpressed by myself as well. How could I miss such a bright, flashing, neon sign?

I glance at my patient, "Well, it looks like you'll live another day." He gave me a small chuckle as I start the car towards the obviously misplaced building. Did they have to build it on the right side of the road? I'm pretty sure it would look better if it was on the left. It wasn't my fault; it was clearly the architect's.

The car rolls to a stop under the purple neon sign blinking "Hotel de la Luna", almost crushing the red and yellow tulips decorating the gravel driveway. A valet opens the car door and gasps as he sees the bloody man staring back at him. The young boy accusingly glances at me and I shake my head quickly in denial. I'm innocent!

The valet calls for two more uniformed boys to help him carry my passenger to the clinic inside, completely forgetting about me. I guess he's still wary of me. A laugh bubbles out of me as I see it from his point of view. It must have been an astonishing sight to see - a bloody knife on my lap and a bleeding man in the backseat.

I park my car and head to the direction of where the men left to explain myself. No one would want police sirens this early in the morning. I find the clinic quite easily. It was on the left of the entrance for your information. My patient spots me by the door and waves me over to the valet's disbelief.

"She wasn't the one holding the knife," he assures the boy. I give a grateful smile as I sit beside his bed.

"How are you feeling?" I assess his wounds. They bandaged him much better than I did.

"Better now, thanks to you," he smiles, "Otherwise, I would have been late for a very important presentation."

My mind backtracks to what he said, "Does that happen to be a very early morning presentation in a hotel in the middle of nowhere?"

Two emotions played rock-paper-scissors in my head. Each round resulting in a tie. Should I be happy because I got to talk to the head of our sponsors or worried that I made a bad impression to him? I try my best to recall if I said or did anything terrible to him. If I did, I probably have to kiss our sponsorship and my job a goodbye. As if he could read my thoughts, the VIP grins in a knowing manner.

"I'm sure everything will work well in your favor."