The Traveling Vampire Show

Startled, I leaned past Rusty and looked at Slim. Her head was turned away, her short hair blowing. Just as I noticed the engine noises growing louder, the dark shape of the Cadillac filled her side window. It was no more than three feet away, in the lane for oncoming traffic.

So far, there was no oncoming traffic.

The big car stayed beside us. Its windows were rolled up. I tried to see through them, but couldn’t.

Slowly, the front passenger window began to lower.

“Watch out!” I yelled.

Slim hit the brakes. We were thrown forward in our seats and the Cadillac burst ahead. It zoomed up the road for a few seconds, then cut back into our lane.

Its brake lights came on, bright red in the darkness.

“Oh, shit,” Rusty muttered.

“Shit is right,” Slim said.

We stopped dead in our lane.

The Cadillac, about fifty yards ahead of us, also seemed to be stopped.

Its red brake lights went out.

Slim shut off our headlights and darkness slammed down on us.

At the rear of the Cadillac, white lights came on.

“Back-up lights,” I muttered.

They began moving slowly toward us.

“Here it comes,” Slim whispered.

“I don’t feel so good,” Rusty said.

“What’ll we do?” I asked.

Nobody said anything.

The car continued to back up. About ten feet in front of us, it stopped. All its lights went dark. It sat there.

And sat there.

“If anyone else comes along…” I said.

“We’ll see their headlights,” Slim said. “I’ll get us out of the way.”

“Speaking of which,” said Rusty, “where is everyone?”

“Still at the movies,” Slim explained.

“That’s where we oughta be,” I said. “We wouldn’t be in this fix if we’d stayed for the whole thing.”

“Parents,” Rusty muttered as if it were a curse word.

Slim chuckled softly, then added, “I guess we’ll have the last laugh if we end up getting killed.”

“We’ll be all right,” I said. “They obviously aren’t gonna ram us, or they would’ve done it by now. The thing is…” I wasn’t sure how to say it.

“What?” Slim asked.

“If someone gets out of the car…”

She leaned forward and looked at me. “Someone gets out and tries to come for us on foot, he’ll have to deal with Chief Pontiac.”

“Gonna run him over?” Rusty asked.

“If he needs it.”

We waited.

The Cadillac sat in front of us, dark, its doors shut.

Slim looked at her wristwatch. “I know his game,” she said. “He’s trying to make us late.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Quarter till twelve.”

“We can still make it.”

“Not if we keep sitting here.”

“If we’re late,” I said, “my Dad’s gonna kill me.”

That got a pretty good laugh from Slim and Rusty.

Then Slim said softly as if speaking to herself, “Let’s just see what happens,” and stepped on the gas. As we bolted from a standstill, she cut into the other lane.

The Cadillac sprang forward and swung to the left, blocking us.

Slim hit her brakes and swerved to the right.

The Cadillac swerved and blocked us again.

We stopped. It stopped.

We sat there in the dark, ten feet apart.

“Screw this,” Slim said. She threw her door open.

“What’re you doing?” I yelled.

“Stay here.” She started to climb out.

“Grab her!”

Rusty didn’t even try. Either he knew better than to interfere with Slim or he was eager for her to handle the situation.

Slim dodged her open door and headed for the Cadillac, taking long, quick strides. I jumped out. “Wait!” I called.

She stopped and waved me away. “Get back in the car,” she said.

“Slim!”

She whirled away and walked straight to the driver’s door of the Cadillac.

I felt my stomach drop as she bent over and knocked on the window.

“Get away from there!” I called.

She knocked again. “Hey!” she yelled.

I hurried between the two cars. Glancing toward ours, I saw that Rusty had scooted over. He now sat in the driver’s seat.

Slim was still leaning toward the window of the Cadillac. As I stepped around its rear, she said, “What’s going on, mister?” From her tone of voice, I figured the window must be open. “Why’re you…”

She suddenly tried to leap backward, but a hand shot out and grabbed the front of her T-shirt. It jerked hard. With a gasp, she stumbled forward and her head plunged into the open window.

“NO!” she squealed.

I ran toward her.

Watching.

Not wanting to believe my eyes.

Slim was inside the window to her shoulders, squirming and kicking, shoving at the window frame with her left hand to keep herself from being dragged in.

Her right arm was already inside the car.

I hit her hard in the midsection.

Tore her out of the window.

Tackled her.

Landed on top of her, smashing her against the pavement, where we almost got run over by the Pontiac. “Get in!” Rusty yelled. The passenger door flew open. “Get in! Quick!”

I scurried up, pulling at Slim. I hurled her into the front seat. Already in motion, the car started to take off without me. I chased it, running in the V of its open door.

“Hey!” I yelled.

Rusty slowed down and I dived in.

Next thing I knew, we were speeding toward town.

I leaned out and pulled the door shut. Panting for air, I sat up straight.

Rusty was stoked. “Holy jumpin’ Jesus!” he said. “Wow! Jeez! Did you see that? They grabbed her. Holy shit! Couldn’t believe it! Shit!” He slapped Slim on the thigh. “They almost got you.”