"I hope you die screaming."

The words rang in Hiram's head as he walked the lone road. It had been hours since he left his house for good and somehow he felt better about himself. He was free at last and he would be able to do what ever he wanted for now on. Hiram's hand was still bleeding off and on; he would stop in Bangor at a 23-hour drug store and wrapped it up later that night, if he ever reached it.

He knew by morning before he left the State he would have to go to the hospital and get it cleaned up.

He felt the cool fall's breeze hit his face and turned it numb. He smiled being grateful he was alive right now. Fall was coming. He saw the trees turn a reddish gold as he walked on during his dark night. Within an hour he reached the back roads. He was surprised to only see a few cars rush by with their highbeams on but then again, it was the back roads.

Soon Hiram's hand started to hurt and he knew he needed to check it.

He looked around and then saw a small chain linked gate. He looked up and in rusted metal letters they said, 'Lincoln Cemetery'.

Hiram knew that wasn't the safest place to go but he needed to rest. He pushed open the gates and with a loud crack they opened. Once inside he looked around at the all of the headstones -- some shaped of angels. This made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He shook it off and found an above grave and sat on the cold stone.

He looked over his hand and was relived to see it had stopped bleeding. He started to wrap it back up when he heard an owl over in one of the trees start to cry. Hiram listened and then it stopped. Before getting up he looked down at the grave he was sitting on.

There engraved said, 'George Eastman, Let the lord take the sinners.'

Hiram stared at the letters for what seemed like forever and when he snapped out of it he looked around and felt a chill. He then had the feeling his mother was now dead.

Hiram left the cemetery and walked on the shoulder of the dark road sticking out his thumb. Three times in a row cars passed him. Hiram was about to give up when an old 1958 bright red Plymouth Fury pulled over with it's highbeams on.

The car pulled over. It's top was up and Hiram couldn't see the driver because of how black it was inside but he saw two hands over the wheel. Hiram then walked over and opened the door. He could only make out the outline of the man but he saw that he had on blue jeans and a red work shirt with a baseball cap. His face was still hidden from the darkness... then a low cracking voice came.

"How far?"

Hiram bit his lip. "As far as you're going, sir."

"Well, that's pretty far. You sure you don't mind?" Hiram shook his head. "Then come on in."

Hiram thanked the man and sat down but once he shut the door a strange smell of moth balls filled his nose. Hiram tried seeing the man's face but it was still hard to see in the darkness.

"You can put your bag in the back, son."

Hiram thanked him and threw his bag in the back. The man started to drive again. Hiram could hear softly on the radio a Red Sox's game playing.

"Thanks for the ride, man. I was so fucking cold."

The man then handed him something. "Here's a little something to keep you warm."

Hiram saw it was a can of beer; he smiled and took it. Drinking the rather warm beer made him feel better. He sat back and for the first time since he left the cemetery he felt better. The man drove on.

"George."

Hiram snapped out of his day dream. "What?"

"George... George Eastman... That's my name. Yours?"

Hiram was about to say his name and then stopped. He didn't know why but said a fake name. "Alex Finhouse."

The man make a dry laugh and drove on. "So, Alex. What's a young man like yourself hitch hiking in the middle of the night like this?"

Once again Hiram lied.

"My sister is having a wedding at New York. She's getting the shakes so im coming down before my mother and calm her down."

"Looking out for baby sister, huh?" Hiram smiled and finished his beer. "So Alex. What do you do for a living?"

Hiram lied again. "Well, I'm training to be a Navy SEAL."

The man laughed again. "Really! no shit!"

Hiram then started to get a strange feeling inside him. He didn't know why but he really wanted to get out of the car.

"I used to work at the old Steel mill before they shut it down."

Hiram once again tried to see the man's face again... but nothing.

"Yeah. I loved working there. Good money and great people to work with. Me and my best friend, Henry, used to take our cars drag racing down this very road at night. Lights off and everything."

Hiram smiled. "Sounds like a good time."

"Sure was. Just me and my Christine."

"Christine?"

"Yeah, that's the name of the car. My little cherry. Henry's was Ash, and that dam car could kill you."

Hiram made a small laugh. He then looked around and saw they were still going down the lone dark road that it now seemed to go on forever. He wished he was now walking outside and looking up at the moon like before.

"Guess you don't own a car, huh?"

"No. Not yet. Been thinking of getting one real soon."

"Get one that will speed fast and suck good good gas in... that's what my father used to always say to me."

"Sounds like a wise man."

"Sure was. Only knew my daddy for the first sixteen years of my life, before he up and went with the town's trap. Is your daddy still around?"

"Nah. He died in a car crash a few years back."

"Really? Dam shame. What car did he drive?"

"I think It was a T-bird... not really sure."

"Yeah, well doesn't surprise me one bit. Dam T-birds have shit for brakes."

Hiram gave a nod and sat back a little more.

"Hey...did your daddy die in the car or later in the hospital?"

Hiram looked at the shadow of the driver and felt uneasy. That was a strange thing to ask.

"Well, I really don't know. He died before I was born. He was driving back from a ball game with my older brother. It was snowing and I guess they drove off the road. Both died in the car, I think. My mother really never talked about it much."

"Damn cars. Can't ever take them out in snow. As soon as the frost comes... My little Christine goes to sleep and I bring out my big dam hunking jeep."

Hiram smiled at the man and then looked down at his hands and was a little surprised to find them shaking a little.
The man drove a little faster down the dark road.

"Say? Ever hear the story about the man that got a brand new 1967 Z-28... bright baby blue for one buck when he was driving out of Texas back home?"

Hiram smiled. Believe or not he did hear the story before in school. The story went just as far as that story went. A simple man gets the car of his dreams because this guy hates the smell of the car inside it... so he sells it for one buck.

"Well that man drove it all the way home to Carson City, Nevada. He was on top of the world in his hometown. Eveyone wanted to see the car that was sold for one buck. Well, a week later or so the guy had to ride up to Seattle for some work thing. Well he came back a week later and found all of the newspapers on the lawn. He went inside the garage and there was this rotting smell inside. When he looked in his car he found his wife laying dead on the back seat rotting in the July heat. She killed herself a week before, so he sold that damn car to another sucker for two bucks!"

The man then let out a huge crackfull laugh and almost fell over the wheel. Hiram gave a small nervous laugh. He had never heared that part of the story before. He then started to think, 'What about the newspapers. Why didn't anyone check if the wife was okay?'

The man then looked at him. "Well, that's a little beside the point don't you think?"

Hiram jumped a little. "What?"

"The newspapers..."

Hiram drew in a deep breath. How did he know? Did he read his mind? The man drove faster.

"Say, Coffey? Did you ever crash you're car going ninety?"

Hiram was about to answer when it dawned on him he never said his name was Hiram Coffey. How did the man know? Hiram then started to feel sick. He knew something was wrong and he just wanted to get out. The man then started to speed up the car as Hiram watched the car starting to pull ninety. He held his seat tight watching the blurs of black that were once the pine trees rush by.

"George... I'm not really feeling that good. Do you think we could pull over?"

The man then laughed again. "What, Coffey? Can't take the speed!"

Hiram felt his heart starting the race, and sweat fell into his eyes.

"I bet you never heard this story before, Hiram. It's about a steel worker, twenty years ago, that was drag racing and his car flipped over going ninety. Well, all they found of him was him was his body that was thrown in a ditch near by and his head still in the back seat!"

Just then Hiram saw a lone street light. The car then filled up with light for only a minute and that's when he saw the man's face. It was the most nightmarish thing he had ever seen.

The man's face was a dark yellow and his eyes were pitch black. His flesh was rotting away and he looked like an old Halloween zombie. Hiram's eyes grew big and he tried to scream but nothing came. He just looked at the man and then the car filled with darkness. Hiram felt himself leaning on the wall as far as he could go. He then felt like he just pissed his pants.

Hiram then tried the car handle... but nothing happened. It was locked... and he was stuck inside.

"Who are you? How did you know my name?" He said in a shaken voice.

"Well, I guess you could say I work for someone. I take people to places that they have to be... and your time is just about up little boy."

"I'm dead?"

"No, Coffey... but you soon will be. That's why you have to chose. You're lucky... lots of people never get to chose."

"Chose what?"

"Well, let's just say you might do something later in life but it's up to you now, Hiram. Die with me all over again... going out with Christine, my little red lady... or die later in life.

"This is a dream right?"

The man then took a quick grab of Hiram's shirt; his long fingernails tore the shirt and dug into his flesh. Hiram jumped back in pain. The man laughed again and put both hands back on the wheel. They drove on and Hiram looked down at his bleeding chest. He felt like he was about to pass out.

"Our time is short, Hiram. You're going to have to pick before we reach the end of the road and that's coming up quick."

Hiram felt so scared and confused. He felt tears fill his eyes but he didn't want to die... not now... but why was God making this happen to him? Why?

This felt like something that would happen in a horror movie... not to him. Was it his mother getting back at him for leaving her? Was he really such a bad guy? All he wanted was to join the Navy... that's it. Somehow he felt that even if he woke up from this nightmare in his old bed back in that old hell he would feel better.

The car went faster.

"I really don't say this a lot... but you better pick soon. The end is just there. Pick now. Die now or later?"

Hiram heard the words all over as the world around him spinned.

Now or later?

The car went faster and faster. Hiram saw the end of the road and bit his lip

"IT'S ALMOST TO LATE. PICK!"

Hiram then let out his answer in a scream. "LATER. KILL ME LATER!"

The man then smiled and placed something in Hiram's shaken hands.

"Thanks for riding with me. See you around, Hiram."

Darkness then over took Hiram. He heard brakes scream and then he felt pain. He opened his eyes and found him still laying on the grave in the cemetery. He looked up at the full moon. He jumped up and looked around shaking.

Nothing was around. Just him and the night. Hiram then gave a sigh and knew it was a dream. He sat back trying to get his breath when he looked down at his shirt and his eyes grew big at the sight of his torn shirt. Hiram jumped up and looked around. He then looked down at the grave and saw something laying on the letters that said, 'George Eastman'.

Hiram slowly walked to it and with shaken hands picked it up. There laid a silver chain with St. Christopher on it. Hiram looked at it for a long time and he then remembered hearing the man's last words

"See you around, Hiram"

Hiram looked at the chain for a long time and then put it around his neck. He looked at it and then took his bag. He left the cemetery. He didn't know what just happened to him. Was it the Devil, or something worse? As far as he knew he lived and he was off to the Navy tomorrow. He tried to cle
ar his head but just feeling the chain on his skin freaked him out. He walked all night until dawn came and then he watched the sun rise and dance over the golden frost bitten fields.

Hiram then let out a deep sigh and kept on walking... never turning back.

"See you around, Hiram... real soon."

And deep down inside Hiram knew he had met death last night... and he would met him again later in life just before Sub 3 crashed... and that time the ride would be quicker but hurt much worst.

THE END