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"Drive" 

The following excerpt is from one of my first stories, titled, "Drive." It has been through the ringer and back - editors, publication advice, my master's programme writing workshops, etc. I recently touched it up for the 57th time and decided that this is it. It is what it is. 

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Mike is driving through the plateaus and dirt of the northwest Rockies to visit his dying father, when a crash takes him on an other-worldly route. With his pregnant wife back in the city, Mike has to navigate the unknown in hopes to get back home. 

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I hope you enjoy! 

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I took a few steps towards what was left of my automobile, scanned the road, hoping for any sign of human life other than Henry, before turning back to the stranger. “Look… uh… Henry, was it? I think I’ll start walking back along the road until I see someone.”
           He walked straight to me, purpose in his stride. I was too surprised to react, so I just watched him closely as he approached. He latched on to the sleeves of my undershirt, pulled me close, and glared into my eyes from inches away. “Look, Mike. Listen close, ‘kay? You simply cannot be out here when the sun goes down, if ya want… to… live.” He let go of my shirt and patted it in a slightly apologetic gesture. “I don’t have time to explain it to ya now, but I'll gladly tell ya anything you want once we reach shelter.”
           I was frozen; silent for what seemed like an hour. “Okay,” I finally said, barely audible.
           “Okay good!” Henry exclaimed, smiling for the first time since we had met. “Let’s go then. We‘re ‘bout a mile away, but that sun is racin’ to go down. We gotta hurry, Mike. Oh, and this is important. Whatever ya do, stay close, and follow me. Whatever ya see or hear, don’t look back. We’ll make it. I’m sure of it.”
           I quickly debated myself on who was the crazy one, Henry, or myself.
           “Uh, one thing...” I started. Henry patiently turned back to face me. “How the hell do you know my name?”
           He stared at me, holding a wry smile for a few seconds. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wallet. “Oops, meant to give this back to ya.” Tossing it to me, he offered a wink, before taking off, running towards nothingness.
           I lowered my head, shaking it slightly, and closed my eyes. The pain from my injuries had begun to make their presence felt. I couldn’t believe what had happened, and I couldn’t believe that I was considering running after someone like Henry. I had no answers to so many obvious questions.
          “Come on, Mike!” he screamed, in full stride.
           I gave one last glance toward the crash site before sprinting toward where the stranger’s distant shadow was slowly fading.
            My body seemed angry about the physical exertion. Because of a slight limp, I was not the fleetest of foot, which clearly frustrated Henry. Trying my best to keep up, I could hear him shouting what I assumed was a rant about my slow pace. I had never enjoyed running, but so many had always expressed a love for it. They argued that it was not only good for the body, but that it allowed time for reflection; whatever that meant. Body and mind. As I hobbled into the unknown, I began to see what they were talking about. Thoughts shot through my mind – questions really. The ‘hows,’ ‘whys,’ and ‘whats’ all fought for attention. All I could do was think, and it made everything worse.   
           I had no clue what was happening. My car was totaled, my wife and parents knew nothing of my whereabouts, and I was now blindly following a strange man even further into the definition of nowhere. The sun presented a sliver of red and orange clinging to the horizon. Nightfall was near, and I could only assume that it would be a much different kind of darkness than I was used to in the city. That anxiety eased slightly as I spotted a small, flickering, light ahead – Henry was prepared, at least – as a flashlight guided him through cacti, weeds, rocks, and likely, some rattlesnakes. “Almost there! Keep going!” Henry shouted, as if extra motivation was needed. “Remember, head forward! Don’t look back!”
           Telling me not to look back was not comforting in the slightest. “Don’t look back” resembled how people are told to “not look down,” when at a high elevation – an attempt to inspire bravery and cushion a fear of falling. Unsure of its current meaning, it just made me want to look back.  
           I could only imagine what I was supposed to fear in this environment. Nothing that popped into my mind was very pleasant. It didn’t help matters that our guiding glow disappeared suddenly. Henry was still ten strides ahead of me so I was unable to understand why we were in the dark once more. The only sound that resonated from my mouth was heavy breathing and groans of discomfort from my injuries – none of which allowed me to inquire about what happened to the flashlight. Nonetheless, I followed. Henry knew where he was going. He had to. He sure acted like it, at least.   
           It was then that I felt the presence of something. A quick glance to the left confirmed it. An enormous black shape glided alongside us, matching our pace. It kept a significant distance, as if it was simply escorting us somewhere. It didn’t act aggressive, but rather, interested. Curious. Even with the separation, it towered over me. It rotated between running on two legs and loping on all four limbs. Back and forth. Running, galloping, drifting – whichever method kept it aligned with our speed. Not too fast, not too slow.
           In sync.
           A motion to the right stole my attention, unveiling a duplicate shadow. Its progression was identical to that of its companion. Their presence was terrifying, yet majestic. I slowed a bit, yearning to soak it in. I was running for no reason. At any moment, they could have overtaken me, without fail. Racing them was pointless. Their purpose, however, was uncertain.
           Only Henry’s muffled encouragement kept me moving. Otherwise, my intrigue and fear would have stopped me cold, just to see what would happen. A jolt of adrenaline aided in one last sprint before, without warning, the creatures emitted horrific screeching sounds. I had never heard anything like it, and I was unsure what emotion it brought out. The pure power behind it rivaled any depiction of a monster I had ever heard. I began to slow down out of sheer astonishment; however, my companion didn’t flinch one bit during the convergence. It then occurred to me that Henry knew what we would be encountering.
           Don’t look back.
           Looking back would have made no difference, I thought, as the beasts made themselves known from every angle. In that moment, my curiosity about Henry peaked, yet my willingness to unconditionally follow him remained. He knew more than I did about what was happening around us.  
           Repeated screeches echoed between the two creatures. There was a pattern – low and high pitches. Short and extended tones. They were communicating. I was naturally curious about what they were saying to each other, and whether I was the topic of conversation.
           Panic set in as two more of the creatures joined the formation. Then two more, and two more after that. Left and right, front and back, we were surrounded by shadows while already engulfed in the dark of night. They were still not advancing, not trying to attack. Not yet at least. Gliding across the land in complete synchronicity, all participants in the expedition remained determined to reach the finish line – whatever it was.
           A chorus of their dialogue shrieked through my psyche, pounding and battering my sanity, almost forcing me into some form of surrender. I squeezed my eyes shut and just ran into nothingness. I waited. For what, I didn’t know. An attack would have at least made sense. Instead, I felt teased. Tormented. Tortured. 
            When my eyes opened, Henry was gone. I had witnessed enough thus far to alter any immediate panic into a state of relative calmness. In a split second, I decided to continue running, with or without my guide. Just run. My body would tell me when it was time to stop. Body, not mind. An all-encompassing shadow ahead forced me to slow. I scaled a rock wall, searching for any point of escape, refusing to look anywhere but forward. After a moment, I passed between a gap in the wall, and was tackled hard. Struggling slightly, I gave into the belief that my suitors had decided it was time to end the charade. After a brief skirmish, I was looking into Henry’s eyes, somehow glowing through the darkness.
           Covering my mouth, he dragged me into an opening in the rock wall. My injured leg throbbed as it bumped and scraped the rocks and ground with force. Henry didn’t care. And after hearing the screeches start back up nearby, I didn’t either. Henry’s strength was incredible for what appeared to be a frail man. Once inside the cave, he turned on the flashlight, pointed it at his face, and placed a finger to his mouth. We stayed in that position for a few minutes. Or hours for all I knew. Waiting. Listening. Both of our hearts were beating, but to different rhythms.
           “They won’t come in here,” Henry said, matter-of-factly.
           My heartbeat slowed a bit with those simple words.
           Any remaining hint of visibility vanished as Henry slid a large boulder in front of the entrance to our shelter.