Wake up, were almost home .”

I stir in my seat, disoriented. My mouth has that moldy-laundry appreciation it gets when I nap during the day except its not daytime, it’s twilight. Very dark.

It descends together swiftly, pieces fitting into region as if drawn together by magnets: I’m in the car with Oliver, were driving residence from Heathers Super Bowl party, and my mouth savours like moldy laundry.

I didnt even know I was tired, babe. I pass my tongue over my teeth and wince. Yuck.

Maybe you shouldnt have had so much to booze.”

He emphasizes the last word in an ugly style, a path that makes me look at him in mild alarm.

What? I didnt” But then I stop because I don’t remember, I remember, how much Id had to drink. I can’t remember hardly any of the working party, truly. Which is not a good sign.

You feel simply because you graze on snacks all darknes you can liquor like a fish but Jesus, Rachel, it was a Super Bowl party. Not a kegger. Oliver is controlling the rotate tightly, his cheeks set in a thin line that add oh boy am I in trouble.

I don’t think Id had that much to drink. Maybe it was the migraine medication Id taken before we left? Perhaps it mixed wrong with the few beers Id had? Because I’m pretty sure thats all it was, only a few brews. Simply I can’t remember.

Before I say anything else Oliver goes on.

I mean, there were kids there. Grayson accompanied their 6-month-old, for divinities sake. He glances away from the road briefly to give me a look of utter abhorrence. It was embarrassing. You flustered me .”

Oliver has quite the pride. Well-deserved, but a big ego nonetheless. Im far from a perfect trophy partner, I slip up from time to time but actually? Did I get that drunk?

I straighten in my set and try to surreptitiously check my breath. Yuck. I dont think its booze, though, it smells more like the buffalo chicken plunge Heather manufactured that was so good. It just doesnt smell good anymore.

Oliver embarrass so easily these days.

Im sorry, I tell, but its hard to be sorry for something youre not sure this is right, something you cant remember. Its exactly easier this style. Better to back down and apologize than make an disagreement. Why does my opening experience so bad?

Yeah, youre sorry all right, Oliver snarls, and I simply dont get onto, I dont get the rancour, the dislike-bordering-on-hate all because I had a few too many guzzles at some dumb Super Bowl party.

Im about to tell him to only drop it already where reference is stiffens even more in his accommodate. He leans forwards, a tightly-wound wire was just about to snap.

What? I question, sure its something else Ive done wrong, another tic-mark on the roll of blunders Ive shaped for the night. I open the glovebox to see if I have any gum but theres nothing, simply long-expired insurance placards, an ancient dead GPS, yellowish napkins that smell of past Wendys meals.

This guy ahead of us, he tells in a low voice, seeings locked on the road. I thought he merely wasnt use his blinker but hes swerving. A spate .”

Maybe he had too much to booze at the party, I snap irritably, and that earns me a fresh spiteful look.

Yeah, thatd possibly be you if you didnt have me to cart your ass residence. My husband gazes back at the light-green SUV in the centre for human rights thoroughfare a few vehicle lengths away. Watch him, hes all over the place .”

I close the glove box with an unnecessarily loud and watch as Im told. Certainly, the dark-green SUV is all over the place. It registers for a moment in the centre for human rights lane before straying lazily to the right, then back to the center again.

I lean back in my posterior, guts suddenly reeling. I feel like Im going to be sick. Hes going too fast.

Youre going too fast, I succeed without losing the buffalo chicken dip from my stomach into my lap. Maybe Id had more than a few brews after all.

Oliver discounts me and slice across one thoroughfare, but the green SUV is going faster now too. Maybe he thinks were hastening?

Oh god, Im going to be sick.

Please slow down, Oliver, I entreat, gripping the door handle for dear life. Please !”

Hes pushing 80, the quicken limit is 60 last-place duration I checked but the light-green SUV now has us boxed in behind another car. In trying to pass him, Oliver has caught us.

You dont get to tell me what to do, Oliver clicks, but I can tell hes scared too, hes trying to figure out how to slow or change lanes or do anything but hes caught us and the green SUV is floating to the right again.

Just pull over or something! I cry yet I can see theres nowhere to pluck over, the shoulder here is incredibly narrow and besides he couldnt stop in time why wont the car ahead of us go faster? Why wont the car behind us go slower?

I can’t! Olivers frenzied now, his hands clenching the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. I cant, I cant”

I look pleadingly at my husband exclusively to insures the green SUV edging in closer together, the passengers rearview mirror is about to touch our drivers surface space, theres metal crunching and glass destroy and someones screaming then

Im startled awake, my form tense and panicked like when you yank out of a dream of descending. Its still dark, were still driving. My mouth savours worse.

Oliver, I gasp, and he gives me a examination that says hes been mad at me for a while but Ive caught him off guard.

You okay? Hes trying not to keep his eyes on me too long, darting back between the road and his disheveled wife.

The taste that had been just only minutes ago simply unpleasant is now somewhat outraging. I sit all the way up, searching the dark superhighway onward, the cherry-red and grey taillights blinking cheerily in the night. No sign of the dark-green SUV anywhere.

Did I drink too much? I ask him, horrified, remain convinced that the crash had been a bad reverie. I intend, truth be told, sometimes when Im hammered I have jolly colors dreams.

You might have, Oliver declares, his expression often softer this time. Like hes glad that I caught my slip-up and Im owning it. You grazed on snacks all nighttime but you still booze like a fish .”

Im sorry. My centre is hammering in my chest and this time I entail it, that daydream or nightmare, more like had been awful, our last-place few moments together saturated in feeling like a cloth drenched in gasoline just waiting for a match.

It embarrassing, he mentions in a voice simply a little poutier than I wouldve cared for, but I tell it slip.” You embarrassed me .”

Im sorry, I say again. I smack-dab my tongue off the ceiling of my opening, trying to get rid of this awful experience. I check the glovebox for gum but no dice, precisely long-expired policy placards, an ancient dead GPS, yellow cloths that smell of past Wendys meals.

Something passes through me , not quite a chill.

I check my breather and its not booze, but its not Heathers buffalo chicken immerse, either. It smells like something rotten.

Hes not use his blinker. I country the obvious as it slips lazily over to the claim from the centre for human rights path without a turn signal.

Hes all over the place. My husband checks his left reflect, ready to make his move, but I make my hand on the pedal in an almost uncontrollable instinct.

Dont! Oliver hops in his seat; the car schmuck left, then right, but we stay in the center lane.

Jesus, Rachel, whats your question ?! he challenges, but I scarcely listen him, Im watching the dark-green SUV.

Youre going to try to get past him, I moan, and Oliver gestures his head hard.

Yeah, of course I am. He enunciates this the way youd been talking to an exceptionally stupid progeny or a particularly tenacious drink. I cant wait back here and have him affect us, whats the matter with you? Dont grab the pedal when Im driving, I mean for deities sake !”

Please dont do this, Oliver. Just gave him exit, are watching him, dont try anything crazy .”

He gives out an distrustful laugh.

Oh, crazy? My spouse takes his eyes off the road to glare at me. It was a Super Bowl party, Rachel , not a”

And thats when the dark-green SUV sections us off, smashes on the brakes, and transmits us lunging into the back of his vehicle. The crunch of metal, shatter of glass, calls

Wake up, were almost home .”

I am, Im awake, Im shaking and my mouth feels like its full of blood but no, its simply an insufferable coppery foulness that moves me heave nearly instantly.

My attentions wildly checked the road for the deadly dark-green SUV but I dont see it, I cant see it, I dont think well ever see it until its too late.

Please, I beg him, red-hot snaps streaming down my cheek. Please be careful, hes suck and hes going to kill us .”

Look whos talking, Oliver scorns. Just because you graze on snacks all nighttime doesnt mean you can drinking like a fish”

Oliver, I dont know how to tell him, I dont know how to get through to him, why doesnt he recollect the gate-crash? The light-green SUV?

Why does this keep happening?

For the first time I look out my space at a black Mustang as it legislates us. Theres no one inside. The vehicle is an empty metal eggshell, moving smooths and silent down the highway. I watch it until it disappears into the darkness.

The other vehicles, theyre the same. No driver , no passengers. Theyre all empty.

I want to scream but its like my blood has been turned to icewater; I dont know what to do with this new information. How can they be exhausted?

Oliver, watch out for him, I mumble, because even though I cant meet the dark-green SUV yet I know its nearby. I know its coming soon.

Watch out for who? He makes to me, sounding more confused than angry now. Then he tells, Wait who the hell is those people ?”

What beings? I examine past the impossibly empty vehicles to the side of the road where Oliver is staring.

There are parties out there, lined up along the roadway, like theyre all viewing mitts or something a really long route of them god, they go on forever !”

I cant construe what hes speak about. All I see is blackness.

And then I remember, its soon, we should be paying attention to the road

Ahead, the green SUV has sideswiped the black Mustang. Theyre spinning out of control in the center corridor and here “were coming” barreling through, travelling full speed, Oliver still staring at the person or persons that dont exist.

Crunch, metal. Glass, shatter. Scream. Scream. Scream

Wake up, were almost home .”

Im already awake. My mouth feelings like utter reeking death. I cant recollect how much I had to drink at the Super Bowl party but I know one thing: were not almost done, and we never will be.


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