In The Road
The car shook and vibrated, the locked up wheels cutting screaming furrows in the packed dirt of the road. My foot felt rubbery as I pressed with all my might against the brake pedal, trying to force the steel behemoth to stop before I ran into the child.
I looked over and Mary’s face was white, her lips pulled back in a grimace of expected horror and her hands on the dash board as if trying to hold back the front of the car.
As the car shivered to a stop, the dust rolled around from behind us, obscuring the road in front. I hadn’t heard--or felt--us hit anything. ‘Please God,’ I thought as I threw the car in PARK, ‘let her be okay.’
“Steven! Did you hit her? Where is she?”
“I don’t think so. I’m sure we stopped in time.” The truth was, between the adrenaline that was still coursing through me, and the clouds of earth in the air, I wasn’t sure of anything.
“Well, go look!”
“Right.” I opened my door and stepped out.
As the dust cleared, I could see her. The little girl, no more than five or six years old, was still standing in the road, inches in front of the car.
“Mary, she’s fine!” I heard my mousy wife get out of the car. We both came around to where the girl stood, and it wasn’t until I saw the ax in the child’s hands that I once again began to become concerned.
Mary stopped, and her stare grew wider as the girl raised the heavy tool. Before I could move, she swung it down and buried the sharpened head deep in my poor Mary’s head.
The girl-shaped creature then turned its face toward me, and I saw hideously long teeth as it opened its mouth much wider than should have been possible. It hissed and narrowed its eyes; with a wet ‘schlup’ sound, it pulled the ax free from Mary’s skull.
I fell to my knees. My horror had combined with my rapidly beating heart to shut down my motor skills; I was helpless to even raise my arms as I watched the now dripping ax head rise into the air above me.
(c) 2017 - dustygrein