by Jeremy Schaber

Created on: August 16, 2009

It was a long, dark night as I was driving down that road heading towards my final destination. I had just reached the other side of the once lively town that for some reason was very quiet this night. There was no one in sight, not even the sheriff or any of his deputies that loved to stop me for any offense they could come up with. It was just odd how the lights were one and nothing was moving but imaginary shadows just out of view. I had thought about stopping at the diner in town but decided to just go on and get to where I was going.

I was actually beginning to believe that I would run into no one until I would get to the next town along the way when out of the dark on the side of the road appeared a hooded figure who was walking in that direction. Why I stopped can only be answered by I felt it would be wrong to not try and assist this stranger. As I pulled along him I saw that he was carrying a large duffel bag which must have been hurting his right shoulder. I offered him the seat in my truck but he preferred to ride in the bed. I never did see his face except for his non-expressive mouth that uttered his flat words and his straight forward request of being dropped off in the next town.

The drive was long and unnerving with no conversation even when I tried to start one with him and all he said was that he just wanted to be taken to the next town. I swear in the woods that spread out from the woods I would see something moving which I noticed the stranger also turning his head towards every once and a while. I never had been much of a praying man but in my head I know I was praying that the next town would miraculously appear so that I could unload this phantom.

I turned on the radio in the hopes of calming my mind and found my favorite song that I blasted but ended way too soon when a news story came on talking about a town some miles away where everyone disappeared with no one being able to explain what happened to them. I made a comment to my ghostly guest that I wondered what the truth is of what happened to those people from the town in the story which I quickly came to regret. "Sometimes the truth is scarier than your wildest imaginations", my guest replied leaving me wishing that I had never picked him up even if it did go against my conscience.

Finally that beacon of hope in the form of the old road sign appeared in my headlights which said that the next town was only a couple of miles away. Only a couple more miles

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