by Joe Stanley

The rain made progress slow. It clouded the windshield almost as soon as the wipers could clear them. It took all of his attention and concentration to drive at a decent speed. The radio was all but forgotten as he turned on River road.

That winding stretch twisted and turned, rising and falling as it ran parallel to the waters. They were swollen and angry from the sudden deluge as he saw from the few streetlights. The lowest points of the road were already collecting water, forcing him to drive with even more caution.

As the road climbed up and straightened out, he grabbed the radio and began, “Calling Unit 14, Unit 14 come in. Over.”
“This is Unit 14.” came a long-awaited response, “What’s going on Sheriff?”
The sound was poor and weak.
“Dammit boy, you’ve been out of contact for over half an hour.”
“Say again.” requested Luke, “The radio… acting up tonight.”
“I’m on my way out to Jonah Epperly’s place,” he began, as static crackled louder, “It might be nothing, but I’m heading up River road.”
“Say… I… almost… of…”
“Luke?”
The radio gave nothing but static.
“Shit.” he hissed in disgust. He wanted to turn around and drive back to find Luke, but with the river rising, he wondered if it would be passable by then. He’d probably have to come back by another route, and Red Barn Lane was really the only other option. It was twice the distance, twice as twisting, and twice as dark.

There was probably nothing to this whole mess anyway. A plane crash the airport couldn’t verify really wasn’t much different than a pink elephant. Still, Jonah hadn’t sounded drunk, and he had heard the noise himself. No, Jonah hadn’t sounded drunk, he sounded… scared.

As he crested a hill, he tried the radio again, hoping the height would lend the signal some strength. Something came back, but it wasn’t Luke, and he was pretty damn sure it wasn’t static. It was a weird, chattering sound, a sound unlike anything he had ever heard before. He wanted to tell himself that it sounded mechanical, but he was never really good at lying to himself.

It rose, growing louder and louder. Suddenly everything went silent. The dashboard lit up like a spotlight and the engine stalled. But his only concern was to slam on the brakes.

Before the headlights had gone out, he had seen the road ahead, or more correctly, he saw that it was gone.

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