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by Scott Normandin
Fenton
awoke in the front seat of the car spread
out with his shoulder pressed against the
passenger side door and his legs wrapped
around the unconscious driver. He looked
at the dashboard of the car to check the
time on the dashboard clock. It was three
in the morning. He had supposed they had
crashed somewhere around nine or ten in
the evening, though he could not be sure.
He tried
to move, but did not want to wake up his
abductor. He felt safe to squirm since amazingly
enough none of the car's windows shattered
in the crash. The windows were intact, so
he had no fear of grinding against broken
shards of glass that might be about him.
He wound
his body around slowly to face the door,
and reached for the door handle. He only
need to turn it to set himself free.
A calm
whispering voice came from the driver's
side next to him, "Hey, don't open
that door. You don't know what you are getting
into. You could die if you go out there."
Fenton's
hand moved away from the door handle. The
man could have been holding a weapon to
him, and since he was facing away from the
driver, he felt better to be safe than sorry
if he wasn't sure.
"I
am more worried about dying in here, mister,"
Fenton replied with the same soft, whispering
voice. There was no need to agitate the
maniac.
"I'm
not going to kill you. I know I seem insane,
but I have not slept in days," the
man was acting rationally now, but was doing
very little to explain anything. The man
reached into his pocket and pulled out a
cigarette and lighter.
Fenton
asked, "'Clickety clack.'?"
As the
words left Fenton's mouth, the car jolted
and bucked to one side as if being struck
by another car. The shocks gave the car
motion and it tossed the occupants of the
car around like rag dolls. Fenton looked
out of the rear window and saw nothing.
Just then the car shook from impact again,
this time from the roof of the car. Two
more shocks ensued. It sounded like two
cows fell from a helicopter right onto the
roof of the car.
"What
the hell was that?" Fenton panicked.
The driver
pointed to the top edge of the windshield.
Fenton turned his attention to the direction
the man pointed. Just then, two large scaly
claws draped down over the top of the windshield.
They looked like giant bear claws, maybe
three times the size of normal, and these
were scaly, like a reptile. They also had
what resembled to be talons extending down
the front of the windshield about eight
to ten inches.
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