Driver
n the horizon, demonic shadows danced jerkily. At least, that's what it looked like to him. The thin and ragged light of the 30-watt moon never helped to show reality from hallucination, especially going at this speed. His eyes strained against the darkness inside the car. The bulb behind the speedometer had long since burnt out, and it wasn't easy to find replacements these days. The needle wavered and pulsed unnaturally, but it seemed to be hovering around 100. Is that in miles or kilometers? Shit, who even knows the difference anymore. Not him. Eyes on the road, focus on what's right ahead. Hopefully all he'd run down tonight would be intangible.
The headlights were dim, and had been getting dimmer for some time. How long, he wasn't sure. Days tend to bleed together when all you do is drive. It was at least three nights. Probably more. He coughed, startling the ghost in the backseat. He could see it in the rear view mirror, glaring at him. Angry that the roles had been reversed, probably. It might have put a quick-acting curse on him, because he felt a sudden wetness in his mouth. That wasn't normal anymore. Instinctively, he spat it out. Goddammit. Right on the fucking steering wheel. Hopefully it was easy to clean.
A flash in the sky lit things for half a second. Dry lightning, maybe some kind of bomb. God, if only. Taking the opportunity to see something other than cracked pavement, he looked down at the stain he'd just made on the wheel. Deep red. Blood. God fucking dammit. That's not coming out any time soon. He thought it was odd that he couldn't taste it, or smell it. It's supposed to taste metallic, something had once described it as "sickly sweet". Maybe that was the smell. Either way, the fact he couldn't get even a touch of flavor before spitting it out was bad. At least he could still feel it dripping down on his legs. At least some things were still working.
The road continued on. Forever, it seemed. He wondered if it was just one big circle, too big to notice a curve on. That would be something, wouldn't it? Some kind of joke, or maybe it would have been a metaphor. Last man on earth, only one around to make decisions, and still going in circles. Not like he could tell. No one can remember the selection of rocks on a specific five-mile stretch and watch for it again. He couldn't trust himself anymore anyway, not since the shadows had started up. Not since that shack had disappeared after he looked away for a second. Not since he'd started hearing things. Isolation does something to the mind, alright. Last man on earth, hadn't seen a living thing as long as he could remember, and he was still scared of something being around him. What, motherfucker? What can you possibly have to be afraid of? The fucking dirt? Maybe it'll swallow you up and put an end to this shit. One can only hope.
He fiddled with the radio fruitlessly. No one was broadcasting, there was no one to broadcast. Sometimes he'd hear something coming through the static, frantic speech that he couldn't make out or music that didn't make sense. Usually it was just on to make some noise. Things got too quiet otherwise. The engine was usually able to make up some of that sound too, but it was kind of quiet as of late. Wait, that's not right. Why was it quieter all of a sudden? Just a minute ago it was loud and protesting its grisly fate, as usual, and now it sounds like it's only half on. That's not good. Sounds like it's stalling. Well, if it was completely shot, he could always just lay down on the ground next to it and die. Probably the best outcome, considering the state of things. He slowed to a stop, turned off the car, pulled the parking brake, and decided to wait for morning.
Sleep would not come to him, no matter how he called. For some reason, the car trouble was bothering him too much. It seemed to pierce right through his protective bitterness and cynicism in a way that only something so mundane could. End of the world, and he was still having car trouble. So many thoughts like that. "Last man on earth, and..." "End of the world, and..." That kind of thing must weight on the mind something awful for it to be so common. After agonizing for weeks over what might happen next, the sun began to rise. It had charred the other side of the world and was coming to impose its dominance over this one for a while. Soon as he could see the world even halfway, he was up and had opened the hood to take a look at the engine.
Well, there's the problem. The radiator's gone. How that happened he didn't know, and one question rang through his head as the faraway demons slid under the edge of the world. What now?