The Traveling Vampire Show

Rusty and I both looked over our shoulders.

Rusty muttered, “Shit.”

By the velocity of the car’s approach, I expected it to swerve and zip around us. But it didn’t. It stayed behind us. Just when I expected it to slam into our tail, Slim hit the gas. We shot forward, the sudden acceleration pushing me into the seat.

The other car shrank into the distance, then started to grow. It looked like a big old black Cadillac.

“Here it comes,” I said.

“What’s the matter with that bastard!” Slim blurted.

“You’d better get moving,” Rusty told her.

“I am moving.”

“Faster.”

We picked up more speed. The Cadillac quit growing. It didn’t shrink away, either. It matched our speed and stayed about twenty feet behind us.

Moonlight glinted on its hood and windshield. I couldn’t see inside it.

Slim said, “I don’t like this.”

She rounded a bend in the road too fast. The tires sighed. As the forces pulled at me, I grabbed the door handle to keep myself from leaning into Rusty. He let himself tilt against Slim. She muttered, “Get off me,” and shoved at him with her elbow.

I looked back. The Cadillac was still on our tail.

“I’m slowing down,” Slim said and took her foot off the gas.

“Here it comes,” I warned.

I braced for the impact. There wasn’t one. When I looked back again, the car was no more than two feet from our rear. But the space seemed to be growing.

“Looks like they don’t want to hit us,” I said.

“What do they want?” Slim asked.

I shook my head.

Rusty said, “Maybe they’re just trying to scare us.”

“If that’s all,” Slim said, “they’ve succeeded. They can go home now.”

“Could be anything,” I said.

“Is it the car from the graveyard?” Slim asked.

“You got me,” I said.

“I think so,” said Rusty.

“It looked like it might’ve just been sitting there waiting for us.”

“Or for someone,” I said. “Maybe just waiting for anyone to go by.”

Her voice low and steady, Slim said, “Either way, we’re it.”

“Long as all they do is follow us ...,” Rusty muttered.

“We’ll get to town pretty soon,” I said.

“We’re not that close,” Slim pointed out.

“Five minutes?”

“More like ten,” Rusty said.

“Who do you think they are?” Slim asked.

“God knows,” I muttered.

“How about Scotty or one of those guys?” Rusty asked.

“They wouldn’t dare,” Slim said.

“They’d love to nail us,” I said.

“Yeah, but they know what’ll happen if they try.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have your bow handy, would you?” Rusty asked.

“No. But they don’t know that.”

“I almost hope it is Scotty,” I said.

“As opposed to whom?” Slim asked.

“I don’t know. Some creep like Starkweather or...”

“Hey,” Rusty said. “Maybe it’s an artist and he wants to make us into statues. Slap some clay on us....”