Micah

Micah liberated the keys to his Highlander from his jeans pocket, shaking his head free of the thoughts that had been circling through his mind all day like an ouroboros, each thought chewing its way into the next without end.

He unlocked the vehicle manually – the clicker’s battery was dead, much to his vexation – and then, just before he climbed in, a discomforting feeling settled in, manifesting itself as a chill running over his back and arms. He turned and looked back at the fenced off pond, and his eyes scanned the furthest treeline for anything out of place.

Why does it feel like something else is here?

He shook off the shivery feeling and climbed into the driver’s seat. He double-checked the address in GPS and then headed for Natalia’s home, missing the shifting of the trees he had just been watching.

Micah had met Natalia in his internal medicine class and they had flirted in a cute, innocent way; she was lovely and sweet, even slightly naïve in his estimation, and he had asked her on two coffee dates so far, until she was finally comfortable enough to agree to a private date.

He had persuaded her to host the date at her small townhouse, since eating at his own apartment would entail listening to Rex drunkenly yelling at boxing matches on television. Nat had conceded only because her housemate was gone for the month.

Micah pulled up and parked next to the curb and went up to Natalia’s door. He checked his appearance in the reflection of her glass door, mussing his hair just enough to look careless.

Because god forbid anybody should know you put effort into your appearance, he thought.

He knocked on the door.

Nat had arranged a small dinner on her veranda in the evening twilight. In his hidden thoughts, it was a little overbearing for their first non-public date, but Micah wasn’t one to complain about romance-crafting, however artificial. That would be hypocritical, after all.

He also wasn’t one to mention he knew that the chicken parmigiana was from a nice deli, either, having seen the emptied container in the kitchen while grabbing drinks. He complimented it profusely and they both pretended she had made it herself.

They chatted casually as they ate, mutual classmates and their goings-on covering most topics.

He decided he did like Natalia, as far as that went; she was sweet and endearing, making him think of the type of girl who still keeps stuffed animals to cuddle with, which brought to mind what Allie had said earlier.

Further conversation revealed she did keep stuffed animals, and romances were one of her favorite types of movies — after horror comedies, she admitted, which led them down a whole new avenue of conversation.

Their conversation felt natural and smooth, and Micah felt himself opening up, relaxing with her on the veranda.

Having finished eating, he found himself staring off into the darkness, its blank canvas peppered with distant stars.

“Micah?”

He blinked, and then refocused on Natalia.

“You spaced out there for a second,” she said, a light smile playing on her lips that did not mask her hesitation.

“I keep doing that today,” he said nonchalantly, recovering, putting his most charming lopsided smile on. Its effect was immediate on the woman. “I think I’ve just had a long week, and finals coming up, you know.”

She reached across the table to take his hand in hers and remarked, “I do know; it’s okay. I think I know how to help.”

She pulled him to his feet and led him back into the townhouse.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

He knew perfectly well where.

“Come here, with me.”

She looked back at him with the demure gaze of a woman that was not used to making the first move, but one not so shy that she wouldn’t.

Micah knew well how this game worked, but he did, however, feel just a little guilty. For once, he had simply enjoyed the friendship and the talking, and not simply as a means to an end.

“You don’t have to…” he started, but she squeezed his fingers and pulled him into her bedroom, her eyes whispering promises of passion. He stopped resisting.

Micah opened his eyes groggily. His sleep-fogged brain was confused at first by the unfamiliar, dark shapes of furniture in the room, and it took him a moment to remember where he was. Natalia was next to him, turned away, her naked shoulder peeking from under the sheets. He turned over on one side and his gaze roved over the shadows, landing on a person-shaped figure in the corner. He froze, his heart quickening as he stared at the silhouette.

Is that a person? No. Was there furniture there earlier when the lights were on?

Rationalizations zipped through his mind in the few seconds that he remained still, watching the figure for movement. Very quietly, he heard a shuddering breath. He thought it might be his own.

He bolted upright in the bed, but by the time his eyes had re-focused, the shape in the darkness was no longer there. He felt his heart throbbing in the crook of his jaw and neck, matched by its drumming in his chest.

Natalia stirred briefly, disturbed by his movement, but she only pulled the covers over her bare shoulder and drifted back to sleep. Micah glanced at her and then back to the corner, still full of shadows but none like the looming figure he was beginning to doubt he had seen. He let out a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves.

He looked around at the room and realized he was not likely to fall asleep again, even as the tension released from his back and shoulders.

Looking back at Natalia, he briefly considered reaching out a hand and initiating sex, but instead he shook his head once and turned to hang his legs off the bed.

He felt empty. He couldn’t summon the lust to his blood. He stared at the dark wall absentmindedly as he found his jeans on the floor and pulled them back on.

Just as well, she doesn’t deserve to be used for your selfish sex addiction, asshole.

A grimace twisted his face as he covered it with his t-shirt.

Can we cool it with the self-deprecating honesty?

He scribbled a note to her on the notepad on her desk by the light of his phone, making the excuse of feeling sick and wanting to go home, which was a half truth but didn’t really make him feel better.

You couldn’t possibly let someone as sweet as her see what the reality of your life is like. Of what you are like.

He tiptoed from Natalia’s bedroom through the dark kitchen and to the back door, turning the handle slowly and completely to avoid the latch clicking loudly, and let himself out.

It had to be nearly four in the morning: the streets were empty, and the residual sounds of cars from elsewhere in the city were absent, creating an eerie, surreal atmosphere that reminded him of his dreams. In his nightmares, there was always something chasing him, and his brain didn’t seem to bother populating the dreamscape with other people, leaving the world barren and empty. This witching hour felt the same, but instead of terror he felt soothed by its quietude.

He unlocked and slipped into his car.

He started the Highlander and pulled away from the curb, then out of her neighborhood, taking a second as he oriented himself against the landmarks he had seen in twilight.

He began driving toward his apartment that he shared with Rex, who would almost certainly be back from bar-hopping, passed out in a drunken stupor in the living room.

I’ve gotta move out, he thought to himself, but I’d hate to see what Rex turns into when I’m not around.

He sighed and adjusted his hands on the steering wheel.

You can’t commit to just being his mom for the rest of your life. He has to take responsibility for himself.

It was only a fifteen minute drive, but Micah’s attention had wandered from the vacant road illuminated by his headlights.

Putting aside his ruminations on Rex, he recalled the night he and Allie had driven from Colorado to New Mexico, how excited she had been, driving her Jeep at 90 on the small highway near the border, the poor thing groaning and careening at the speed she pushed it.

Just like tonight, that night had been near moon-less, the darkness pushing in on the Jeep’s headlights and the cool night air rushing through Micah’s hair from the open windows.

Allie and Micah chatted of nothing important ‒ how the mountains would look in the morning light, the cost of the gas to get there, and where they could stop to fill the tank – but when the conversation tapered off, Allie moved one hand from the steering wheel to the headlight knob. Watching her, Micah had a split second of confusion, unsure what she was about to do. He caught a glimpse of mischief on her face, and before he could protest, she turned off the headlights.

Then suddenly the only sensations available to him were the feel of the Jeep beneath him, the smell of the crisp night air, the sound of tires on asphalt. His eyes were met with nothing but blackness. His hands gripped the edges of the worn seat, and his mind ran wildly, knowing that when Allie switched the lights back on, they would almost definitely show a crooked mesquite tree directly in front of them, illuminated in the stark grey of the headlights. Or the vehicle would have left the road, and the lights would show the shoulder, right before it would grind over rocks and into a deep ditch. Or the lights would reveal a field and fence, reaching out with wild arms to swallow the Jeep and them with it.

He heard Allie laugh, and he imagined her in the seat next to him, head thrown back as she took a deep breath of night air, riding on the high of her impulse, right before they would hit – she turned the lights on, and the road was only slightly askew in the windshield.

Allie swerved to stay in the lane, the tires buzzing as they rolled over the rumble strip. She laughed again in exhilaration, and Micah, feeling an odd combination of thrill and relief, found it in himself to laugh as well.

“I thought we were going to die,” he chuckled, exhilarated.

“Psh. Don’t be silly; I had it under control,” she replied, both hands back on the steering wheel.

After a full minute of silence, she said suddenly, “Thinking you’re going to die does weird things to you, doesn’t it? Did you consider what you might regret if you had died?”

His eyebrows shot up for a brief second, not expecting such an evocative question. He thought for a moment, considering the question seriously even though he could have blown it off with a lie.

Then he answered honestly, “I want to contribute to something, something bigger than me. I want to feel like I’m a part of something in which I can actually change things, make a difference,” he said, but thought to himself, How cheesy could you be, to say something like that in all earnestness?

“Oh come on, I knew that,” she responded.

“What about you?”

In the dim light from the driver's dash, Micah saw her expression harden.

“How far ‘til Raton?” she asked, deflecting, her eyes on the road ahead but focused on something else, something not physically there at all.

He checked the maps app on his phone to confirm, peeking up to see her face take on a look he had glimpsed only a few times before, an expression laden with bitterness and self-resentment. He didn’t understand it, and he got the idea that she didn’t much, either.

In the present, Micah’s memory was abruptly interrupted when a huge, dark figure suddenly appeared in the stark halo of the Highlander’s headlights, leaping from the shoulder to the lane without warning.

Instinct took over and he threw his hands up to protect his face, closing his eyes but feeling the vehicle collide with the animal, which stopped his vehicle as solidly as a semi-truck. He felt and heard the shuddering bang of the impact in every part of the car's frame.

He jerked forward against his seatbelt. The windshield made a shuddering, cracking noise as a glittering broken web swept across it.

Just as quickly, all was still.

He opened his eyes, trying to see out of the windshield, but it was near impossible to see what he had hit through the shattered glass, and with one headlight out and the other only lighting an empty road.

He checked his body, making sure bones and blood were still on the inside where they belonged, and felt his chest relax considerably when he saw he was fine, with the minor exceptions of a seatbelt-bruised collarbone and a tender wrist that had smacked the car door.

Why didn’t my airbag deploy? Need to get that checked, I guess.

…if the thing is even still drivable.

At least I didn’t swerve, he then thought as he opened the door and got out to inspect the damage. I heard it’s so much worse when you try to avoid the animal.

Except there was no animal, not in the road, nor caught in the twisted mangle of his fender, and in the faltering light of the single headlight, he couldn’t even see blood anywhere in sight.

Stepping forward to inspect the fender, he heard something growl.

He stepped back again, his eyes trying and failing to see into the dark that lurked beyond the feeble halo of light his Highlander managed.

In the thick tangle of underbrush, it growled again.

Micah could see an animal approaching, lingering outside the safe dome of light. It was as large and hulking as a bear, but in its shadowy silhouette all he could make out were two bright eye-shines in its lowered head, fixed on him.

Then its other eyes opened – three more pairs – all focused on him without wavering. He had been inching very slowly back towards his car door, but now he found himself as still as marble, afraid the throbbing of his heart was loud enough for the beast to hear.

Then the extra eyes closed and he was simply looking at two, and he quickly reassured himself the adrenaline was causing him to see things that weren’t there.

That reassurance was promptly shaken to its core as it padded closer to him, its edges seeming to morph and mutate in the darkness. It was not the size of a bear, as he had first thought, but the size and shape of an enormous wolf – or, no, a snake, thick swaths of scale and muscle uncoiling slowly.

Micah was so stiff with terror that his chest hurt all the way into his back, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

How can a snake get that big? This is a nightmare; this isn’t happening, what—

But his rationalizations did not dismiss the phantasm. It snarled again, and Micah stepped backward, his foot shifting gravel. The beast lifted its tiger-shaped head.

It stepped forward on massive forelegs, finally coming into the halo of the single headlight.

Micah had trouble comprehending what his eyes were seeing. Although it was in the circle of light, the creature’s limbs still looked as if it were completely in shadow, its huge paws ‒ which had shifted to resemble the thick, hairy legs of an immense spider ‒ were solid black and leaking steaming rivulets of darkness onto the asphalt.

Micah tried to take another backwards step, but the command came from a brain that was entirely too flooded with adrenaline to properly execute the desired action, and so he stumbled back, falling to his butt, his hands scraping painfully on the gravel.

The creature dipped low on its haunches, its back arching, and Micah recognized the stance as the first of a pounce.

He threw his arms up, and then his vision went dark.

He woke in the same place he had fallen unconscious, on the shoulder of the road in front of his Highlander, alone except for the deer in front of his vehicle, dead and mangled by a powerful impact. Its blood was smeared messily over the grill of the car.

Micah looked around wildly in the darkness for the shadow beast, but neither hide nor hair was to be found.

He stared at the slaughtered deer.

It feels like I’m supposed to believe this.

He stood, feeling the painful scrapes on his palms. He examined the damage to his car, and he felt a surge of relief roll over him, a smile spreading across his face without him even being aware.

I have a feeling I should be dead, he thought to himself, looking at the broken body of the deer again. But I’m alive. Whatever that was, I’m able to go home.

He picked up the two front legs of the deer and began pulling the carcass farther into the brush, and he didn’t even care when the front leg completely detached from the rest of the body with a sickening tearing sound. He simply threw the leg and the rest of the grisly mess into the grass.

I’m alive, he kept repeating to himself. Maybe I’m crazy, but I'm alive. He heard a high-pitched giggle, and was surprised to realize he had been the source. He got back into the vehicle, which was still in accessory mode with the single headlight on. He was thankful that it started up.

I must not have been unconscious too long, if the battery is still okay.

He laid his head back on the headrest of the driver’s seat, letting his body finally settle into normalcy.

Maybe it would have been better if it had gotten you, came an unwelcome voice, and his eyebrows knit together. He lifted his head.

He ignored the thought and proceeded to drive very carefully home, the single headlight feebly pushing back the pressing darkness, and by the time he finally pulled into the apartment parking lot, he was exhausted, the adrenaline and flooding relief having completely drained from his nerves.

Up the stairs, through the apartment door, past Rex passed out drunk in the living room armchair, and into bed Micah went, his eyes closed and his mind blank before the pillowcase even touched his cheek.