Alicia was genuinely frightened. The man in the driver's seat looked less and less like a taxi driver as the minutes dragged by. Dark shadows crept in through the window on her side, invited in by the broken headlight on the passenger's side of the car. In the daylight, the car had looked like the best of the line - shiny and clean, and with "A Ride As Easy As Air" painted on the side.
"Chandler Drive? Sure, I know the place! I just replaced my car, and it drives great. This is going to be great!" he'd said.
It was only after the driver got lost, turned around, and got lost again while turning around that Alicia started to worry. As the night approached, the man became more and more terse, driving the car almost as though he had a grudge against the very machinery that was carrying the two through the nearly deserted streets in (relative) safety and comfort. He stopped avoiding potholes and other obstacles, and when she started feeling a bruise forming on her arm from hitting the car door time after time she asked him to try and drive a bit more sensibly. He responded by driving more directly for the potholes, forcing Alicia to brace herself more effectively against the onslaught.
"Please!" she begged. "I only wanted to go home. I can even show you how to get there; it's not even that much farther."
"This is the way home," replied the man, looking ahead with a vacant expression.
Crack! Alicia jumped, hitting her head on the roof as the taxi plowed into some low-hanging branches. "Can't you watch where you're driving?" she pleaded. "Can't you just take it a bit easier?"
"My car. Doesn't concern you. Just getting you home, like I said I would."
Alicia set her teeth and resigned herself to making it home, but just barely. She was already too late for her dinner appointment, and with secret relief she settled in for the ride. When they got home, she'd take a bath and relax.
They stopped at a red light, and Alicia shifted her weight anxiously. She noticed with a growing anxiety that altough the light finally turned green, the taxi wasn't accelerating at all. The driver just sat there, watching in the rearview mirror. Thud! The girl couldn't suppress her scream of terror as a semi plowed into the back of the yellow car. Glass and debris flew everywhere and Alicia found herself pinned against the dashboard. Hardly breathing, she tried to loosen herself from her position.
Looking around for the taxidriver, Alicia noticed him standing outside the car. She motioned frantically with her neck for him to come nearer, but he kept his distance.
"I can't help you," he muttered. "You should have held on better. Not my fault that you rode in my old car with me. I have to call the insurance company. When they hear that I was in an accident that wasn't my fault, they'll give me a new car for real, instead of a lousy paint job. When I get a new car I'll pull you out and drive you home, just like you wanted. I need a new car though, for such a nice girl as you."
Alicia's eyes widened in terror. She tried again, in vain, to free herself, but it was too late. She closed her eyes against the curtain of blood lowering itself over her face, and waited for the darkness. Her bruises and scratches melted together into one, and she yielded herself to the sticky cocoon waiting for her. If she was unconscious, the wait would be more bearable.
When she woke up and he'd obtained his new car, she hoped that he would offer her another ride home.
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