Fog

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Not all short cuts are a good idea.

The silent dead of night chilled Meg to the bone. The dew settled on the roads as a slippery blanket ready to take a life. The fog was thick and deceiving making it look like an enemy you didn’t want to cross. Gripping the wheel she released the gas pedal slightly to steady the swaying car.

The baby simply slumbered in the back seat. His blue blanket wrapped him in warmth and an invisible protective bubble. The soother fidgeted faintly as the 8-month old sucked on it. Meg took a deep breath relieved that Turner didn’t wake.

An hour passed and the fog never let up. As the minutes ticked by her eyes became heavy ready to sleep and be immersed in a dreamless s rest. Shaking the feeling away something to the right caught her eye. The form of a young woman much like herself sent chills up her spin as the girl stood by the road. It was well after midnight and no one lived close by. Laughing it off she blamed it on the lack of sleep and instructed her body to focus on the road but there she was again. Another few feet stood a man and another woman. People lined the highway on both sides. Panic set in and Meg slammed her foot into the gas making the car a blur to anyone outside. Zooming by the strangers behind advanced towards the car.

Their speed was not human and the young mother cried for their lives to be spared. Their faces contorted and elongated as if they were screaming in pain. The frightening looks made Meg yell and the baby awaken in tears.

“It’s ok Turner,” she cooed and clacked but the boy could sense the fear in his mother’s voice.

The tortured souls followed the winding car as it descended further into the fog. As if knowing they didn’t have much time Meg threw caution to the wind and pounded the pedal to the floor. The spirits became enraged that their prey was getting away. What sounded like fists reverberated through the car as loud wailing filled the cloud surrounding the car.

“We’re almost out.” The child in the back was almost louder than their attackers. Meg could see the clearing and felt hopeful they would make it. Several entities floated out over the road to block the path ahead of them. “Shit, hang on.” She spoke to her son as if he understood. Meg gripped the wheel until her knuckles were white and the circulation to her fingers was gone.

The automobile approached the dead at an extreme pace as the exit for the fog tunnel became smaller. She plowed through the people as if they too were only a cloud of mist. Her breath caught in her throat as they came to a stop. Unbuckling and stepping out Meg noticed they were stuck in the white prison. She hopped back in the car and they returned on their way as she noted to never take short cuts again.


Submitted: July 31, 2014

© Copyright 2022 writer990. All rights reserved.

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