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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Transportation · #1698613
Automobile Trifecta Trilogy of Doom With a Twist
Evening Drive


The twisted wreckage embraces me like a fiberglass sleeping bag.  As I lay in what appears to me as the back seat of my car, my mind is ablaze as to how I got here.  I remember the torrent of a downpour beating my windshield only moments earlier.  When did I lose control?  This question hardly seem relevant now as I try to worm my way out of what will surely be my tomb if I ponder much longer.

‘Ok Trendtson, gain your bearing.  You’re upside down in a retention ditch filled almost 2 feet and rising.  Something is digging into your chest, pinning you into the comfort of death.  Take slow, deep breaths and keep your head above water.’  Easier said than done I thought.  With every passing moment I tire fighting to become dislodged from my current location.  The more I fight, the more I weary myself to a point passed exhaustion.

After what seems like days, my neck begins to strain as the water level has almost reached my mouth.  It was at this point, struggling in vain; I lowered my head beneath the surface.  The taste of salt and dirt clings to my lips like some rancid kiss of death.  Feeling my breath running out, I realize this is the end…

‘Wait!’  This eureka epiphany awakes me.  With composure regained I again fight with one last-ditch effort to finally free myself of this sarcophagus which binds me.

I see the twisted metal at my feet.  The paramedic is running to my side at this point.

“Are you ok?  Is anyone else in the car?”

“No, no, just me.”

“How did you get out?”

“Sir, I found one last bit of strength.  I thought I was going to die.”

“Don’t fool yourself, son.  You did.”

*******


Shine City Haulers


Harold violently tossed his jacket to the ground in front of him.  The mixture of oil, coolant and brake fluid should add a lovely tint.  Terrance, Harold’s mechanic, knows this irritation all too well.  Terrance has been wrenching circuits for Harold about 20 years.  He should know all of Harold’s ticks by now.

“Were you trying to kill me?”

“Now Harold, it was an honest mistake.”

“An honest mistake…AN HONEST MISTAKE?!?  I can understand forgetting to bleed the brake line, but not setting the tension on the timing chain?  When that ripped through the hood, it nearly took my head off!”

“Maybe you could have become immortal and been a headless horseman of the Slick City Circuit.  Your name could be…”

“Oh, shut up!  I don’t wanna hear another word.  Now we gotta haul.  I despise that white lightning, but if we’re gonna enter next week this is our only option.  The coin for first is the best we’ll ever see and we need Admiral Whistledick at peak performance.”

So, despite the dangers of hauling, and obviously that Harold and Terrance unanimously hated the smell of shine, they decided this was the only way to pay for a rebuilt engine.

Highway 305 was the best route from Old Man Wither’s farm to the 13 houses en route to their big payday.  The state police litter that stretch like vultures to a carcass.  This concerned them very little as they’d done this run a hundred times over.  Little did they know that smokey had a surprise in store.

Four houses down, SCHP was in queue and on their tails.  The surprise?; Molotov cocktails of none other than moonshine.  Once Harold and Terrance realized their haul was ablaze, there was little more to do than ride this fiery phoenix into the night.

*************


Hot Wheels


“Forged in the depths of the hottest part of hell, painted with the blood of unbelievers, fueled by the damned, this hotrod has a 666 cubic inch engine.  The fastest car ever constructed might as well have been made for the devil himself.”

“Oh Frank, stop it.  It’s a fine ride, I will give you that, but to say it is possessed is preposterous.”

“Annie, I’ve seen things.  I am not even sure of what the capabilities are of this car and you mock me like a child!”

“Are you ready to go to my parent’s house?”

“Only if we can take El Diablo Muerte Coche.  I would really like to see how it handles the Blue Ridge.”

“That is the most ridiculous name for A CAR!  I don’t care, as long as we get there in one piece and on time this time.”

As they left their house, a strange man emerged from the trees to watch as they departed as if he were a witness to the apocalypse.  The closer they got to reaching their destination, the more often this man seemed to respawn in the tree line.  If only Frank and Annie saw this man just once they might have been able to see the horror soon to befall them.

“Hurry Frank, we only have 45 more minutes before dinner starts!”

“Annie, I’m driving as fast as I can without careening off the side of the mountain.  I love you, but I don’t think you’d be very attractive dea…”

“FRANK!  WATCH OUT!!!”

Just then the watcher startled a goat into the road and the motorists were off the side of the mountain to meet certain peril.  Not that anyone was around, but no sounds of an explosion were heard.  I guess the devil wanted his car back.
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