Thursday, May 03, 2018

Oscar Friedman's Freakish Occurrence - Part 10 by Dellani

Oscar spends a very satisfactory night with Jasmine, and a good day at the book signing. When they are getting ready to leave, he spots his Prius in the parking lot. Which is odd, because Jasmine gave him a ride. He'd left the car at the hotel.

"Okay. I'll check for the paperwork just to be sure. Can I follow you there? I don't trust the GPS."
"Sure." She gave him a kiss.
Oscar found the car door open. Sitting in the driver's seat, he opened the glove compartment. Finding the rental papers, he saw that it was indeed his car, but he had no idea how it had come to be there. He leaned across to put the papers back in, pulling in his left foot which had been dangling out the door. The door slammed shut, catching him in the ankle. Cursing, he tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. The locks engaged and the car started on its own.
Trying to open windows and doors with the buttons was impossible. Terrified, Oscar banged on the window. Jasmine walked toward him, hands extended. An electrical shock zapped her fingers painfully. Every time she tried to touch the car, she got another jolt.
"Help!" Oscar yelled, banging on the window. "Get Patrick!"
The other authors were coming out the door, their arms full of books. Eyes wide, they stared in horror as the car advanced on them, roaring menacingly. With a final growl, the car leaped forward, scattering his friends as he beat against the windshield.
Tires screeching, the car hurtled into traffic, leaving multiple accidents in its wake. Oscar tried to take control of the car, hitting the brake ineffectively with his right foot. The left was still painfully trapped between the door and seat. He tried to open the door, but it refused to budge. He tried the emergency brake only to have the car accelerate. The gearshift produced no results. As he careened along the road, the interstate loomed ahead.
"Stop! Damn you! Stop!"
"Freeway entrance on the right in .2 miles," The GPS said calmly.
The possessed Prius took the freeway entrance at ninety, scattering traffic in its wake. Chaos followed them as the car wove in and out of traffic. Oscar lost track of the collisions, hiding his face in his hands. Feeling helpless and responsible, he tried again to bring the car to a halt.
Alternately praying and cursing, he wrestled with the controls. Passing a state trooper, he burst into tears. This was all he needed, a speeding ticket in a car he couldn't control. Blue lights and sirens followed him down the road. That was an improvement, really, as the other traffic moved out of the way. He could see the trooper talking on his radio, fury contorting his features. The officer pulled up next to Oscar, pointing sternly at the side of the road. His lips formed the words, "Pull over!"
Oscar raised his hands helplessly, shrugging. The car accelerated, leaving the trooper in a cloud of exhaust. Moments later, his phone rang. Digging it out of his left pants pocket was no easy feat. He lay down across the seats, freeing the phone.
"Help!" He yelled into the phone.
"Mr. Friedman?"
"Help me! Who is this? Help!"
"It's Don from the car rental agency. What's wrong?"
"Your car! It's running away with me! I'm on the interstate going 110 in a Prius!"
"Mr. Friedman, just calm down."
"I can't. Don't you see? The car's possessed! It's kidnapped me!"
"Freeway exit on the right in .5 miles," the GPS said in a cold tone. "Hang onto your hat, we're in for a bumpy ride."
"Did you hear that? That was the GPS! It's talking to me!"
"That's impossible. It's your writer's imagination."
"It's not his imagination, Don," the car said.
"Did you hear that?"
"Is Jasmine with you? Is this some kind of sick joke?"
"No joke, Donnie," the car replied. "You know cars don't have a sense of humor."
"Jesus H. Christ! What did you do to my car?" Don yelled.
"Me? I didn't do anything? It's possessed!"
"Freeway exit on the right," the GPS intoned calmly as it dinged.
Not slowing at all, it took the off ramp, shooting into the intersection without regard to lights. Making a hard left, it swung crazily across the lanes of traffic, scattering more cars. They were headed toward the country. Desperate now, Oscar knew he had to get free. Lying down, he had a little more room to get his leg out from between the door and seat. He sat up, wiggling his shoe off, then lowered the seat to a reclining position.
By wriggling and twisting, he pulled his foot slowly toward him. Something snapped in his ankle, but his foot finally came free. With a shuddering groan, Oscar put his shoe back on. Examining his surroundings, he started to formulate a plan. If he could get to the trunk, maybe he could find the tool kit, he might be able to damage the car enough to make it stop. Struggling against the erratic movement of the car, he opened one side, lying on it as he examined the trunk.
© 2018 Dellani Oakes

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