This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/jebstewart on 2024-09-29 20:29:27+00:00.
I tapped my fingers along the tattered steering wheel, trying perpetually to soothe my swirling mind. I’d always had heavy anxiety and driving seemed to exacerbate it. Maybe, in this instance at least, it wouldn’t be as much of a hindrance as I once thought it to be.
The sun hadn’t risen quite yet as I hopped and scooted along the various backroads to my workplace. I always tried like hell to avoid the main roads.
The first few rays threaded up beyond the horizon, still mostly concealed by the canopy of withering oaks overhead. Twisting pavement crumbled at its edges, collapsing into the deep ditches that ran along the length of my route. A less seasoned traveler would surely miss the deep potholes beneath the dark mornings cloak.
Despite the treacherous conditions, my old ‘Yota hardly missed a beat. It’d been my first and only truck ever since I’d begun driving, eating the horrible rookie mistakes that came with owning a manual vehicle. The frame rot would surely be its demise.
My anxiety eased off as the beams of light finally chewed their way through the treelines autumn-eaten limbs. Squirrels hopped and darted through the foliage, playing chicken with me as I slammed the brakes every so often as to not turn them into a spot on the ground. I didn’t mind having to stop for the things, it helped keep my tiresome mind at bay.
Suddenly, a swath of light etched itself on the pavement which rounded my next turn. Another car. It wasn’t a common sight on this lonely backroad, and it was something that always got my gut in a twist. What if it was a cop? I hadn’t renewed my tags or bothered with insurance since I’d found this new route. Kinda silly, right? Somebody as wound tight as me couldn’t bother with something so important. Silly.
To say I was surprised when the car rounded that corner would be an understatement. It turned slowly, that silver Jeep, that silver Jeep that looked awfully similar to my wifes car. I studied it as it drew nearer.
My heart dropped when I read the license plate. It was, in fact, my wifes jeep. But what would she be doing heading back home this early in the morning? I knew she never took this route home, either.
As I raised my hand to wave, I noticed something even more peculiar. Something that made my heart sink further than I ever thought possible.
Admittedly, the windows of her Jeep are tinted, but I swear, I swear I saw a man in the drivers seat. His face looked weird as we began to pass one another, his head turning as we made eye contact. That’s when I realized he was wearing a mask.
I slammed on the brakes, stopping dead in my tracks as I watched the car disappear beyond the oaks. I swear I hadn’t seen her in the passenger seat. Maybe it was a family member borrowing her car? But why the hell wouldn’t she tell me… and why would he be wearing a mask. No… no that makes no sense. Could she be hiding something, like another partner? Seemed unlikely, and still doesn’t explain the mask part.
I backed up and whipped my truck around, shutting the lights off so I could follow without being seen for as long as possible. The once jovial play of the squirrels and the green-brown mess of beauty around me seemed dull now as I followed loosely behind the man in my wifes car. The morning dark had washed away by then and I could see the Jeep careening along the busted road through the barren foliage.
Then, all at once, the Jeep began picking up speed. At first it was nearly imperceptible, but by the time I’d caught view of the vehicle again I could see it nearly leaving the pavement as it bounced up and down the winding road. My old truck struggled to keep pace with the deranged driver in my wifes car, but I was determined to follow this bastard all the way to Hell.
By this point I was pretty sure someone had either stolen her car or it was a full blown kidnapping, either way I was hell bent on catching him. I tailed him all the way down the backroad until we’d passed by my house and were now nearing the highway.
I swear I’d seen a moving truck sitting in my driveway.
By then, he’d begun brake checking and swerving like a complete madman. Whoever this guy was, he was adamant about not getting caught.
The foliage around us had become a blur as we sped closer and closer to the highway. I had to put an end to this chase, quickly. If he reached the highway there’s no way my old truck would be able to keep up. I guess I’d seen enough episodes of Cops to at least attempt a pit maneuver.
The next time he brake checked me, instead of slowing down I pressed onward, sliding beside the Jeep as my truck struggled to not slide into the cavernous ditch to my left. My heart was beating so fast, I could feel my vision beginning to blur as I jerked the wheel to the right, clipping the back corner of the Jeep. In an instant, my truck had been turned completely around as the squeal of burning rubber shattered the perfect morning quiet.
Then, I heard a monstrous boom.
Once I’d come to a halt, I hopped out of the cab and promptly twisted my ankle in one of those god damned pot holes. I’d later found out that I’d broken my ankle that way, but hadn’t even felt the pain through the surge of adrenaline. I hobbled forward, making my way closer to my wifes overturned Jeep.
The vehicle sat in a crumbled mess along the ditch, a thread of smoke reaching its gray tendrils towards the sky. The surrounding woods had grown eerily silent.
The door to the Jeep squealed open as the masked man pushed his way out. His once white button-up shirt hung off his body in bloody ropes, the ski mask he wore was riddled with holes revealing patches of blond hair which stuck out in different directions. His eyes were bloodshot and screamed insanity.
“Look what ya’ fucking did!”, he screamed, haphazardly raising a shotgun in my direction. The first shot rang out, blasting a hole in the windshield of my truck behind me. The second brought me back to reality, flying somewhere into the random thickets of brush.
I hobble-ran back to my truck, flinging the door open as he reloaded the bullet that would surely kill me. Another blast rang out, this one ripped the mirror clean off my door. I braced myself, waiting for the next boom.
From the depths of the smoldering Jeep I could hear a faint scream. My wifes scream.
I gritted my teeth and pulled myself back into the trucks cab, fumbling stupidly for the keys. The next bullet tore through my windshield and chewed a hole through the passenger seat. Yellow foam spewed from the smoking cavern it had left.
“You’re fucked!”, he sounded more like an animal, like a demon, than a man. He was going to kill me.
I could hear the scrape of footsteps grow closer as he reloaded the shotgun once more. Finally, I got the key jammed in the ignition and twisted it. The old ‘Yota came to life as I depressed the clutch and lurched forward, barreling straight for the man who had kidnapped my love, my life.
His last shot missed entirely as I smashed into the masked man, sending him hurtling over the ditch and into a tree. My truck followed shortly thereafter, pinning his mangled body against the stout oak.
The world went quiet and my adrenaline eased as I slipped into unconsciousness.
Whatever fight I’d had left was gone upon reawakening, my vision seemed like one of those old cartoons where random holes of nothing permeated in and out. My head screamed and my body agreed as the pain from my leg made moving an inch seem unbearable, but still, I persisted.
I pushed the smashed-up door aside and slowly made my way back out. A great plume of smoke billowed from underneath the hood of my now-dead truck.
Truthfully, despite what he had done, I was hesitant to see the gore that sat just out of view. I hobbled closer, nearing the grisly sight that awaited when a flash of white hot pain screamed through my back. I fell to my knees.
“You son of a bitch!”, Sarah screamed, “you killed him!”, she continued, pulling the knife from my back, ready to plunge it in once more until I turned over and met her gaze. Sarah, my love, my everything, was holding a knife that was now stained with my blood. Her eyes seemed both vicious and weepy all at once.
She dropped the knife and backed away, blubbering quietly, repeating, “I loved him”, over and over. She fell back, curling up on the shattered glass that littered the road.
I wish I could say that I’d said or done something heroic, but in that moment it seemed as though my mind had retreated to somewhere far, far away.
By some sort of luck, or divine intervention if you believe in such things, a squad car happened upon the wreckage. Perhaps one of the houses tucked away on that backroad had called in the commotion. I’m still not sure.
Apparently, the guys name was Scott [REDACTED], who had been one of my wifes work colleagues. They’d gotten romantically involved at some point and he got her hooked on drugs. That morning, according to Sarah, they planned on coming to our house and killing me in my sleep.
She must not have been listening when I told her I had a meeting before work that day and was going to be leaving early. I guess if she planned to kill me then there was no point in listening to whatever it was I had to say. Oh well.
Oddly, my driving anxiety seems to have lessened ever since the incident. Then again, everything seems pretty numb at this point. Either way, my wife will most likely be in prison for the rest of her life, which gives me plenty of time to think about what I’ll say to her when I visit.