The Ride Home Pt. 01

Hi guys, this is a first submission for me, it's an old favourite of mine and the very first short story I wrote years ago. It's quick and dirty, (just as I like 'em!), though this first bit is just a short intro to the rest of the story.

I hope you like it too, it is a little dark, but who doesn't need a bit of dark in their lives from time to time? Enjoy and let me know what you think!

"See ya Trix, same time next week, yeah?"

I turned around outside the bar and waved to my friend, who was stumbling off, giggling, into the distance, arm clasped around her latest victim of our weekly cocktails. I shook my head and smiled to myself...four years and every single week she claimed that she was going to be good, and every week managed to pick someone up.

'She'll be calling me in the morning, as per usual,' I thought, as I walked round Piccadilly Gardens looking for a taxi at the rank, 'moaning about her hangover and swearing that this is the very last night she goes on the prowl.'

My mind strayed back to the evening, and the curious feeling of nervousness I had experienced all night. Something had definitely been off, but I couldn't place my finger on it. Sal had been her usual bubbly self and the drinks had been fine, the barman even finer! Somehow though, I had never been able to relax properly.

I can see light still pouring out of the doorway of a nearby hotel, but the other buildings are locked up tight and even the bus station opposite is empty now the last night bus has headed out. The city murmurs as it settles down for the night, with just an occasional raucous cry sounding out as the last of the drunken stragglers make their way up to the all-night takeouts near the train station at the top of the hill. I pace up and down the taxi rank, pulling my coat close as the wind cuts through me, and scan the empty road for any sign of a black cab.

"Typical, hundreds when you're trying to navigate through the city centre traffic, but none when you need one on a Tuesday night." My breath hangs like smoke in the chilly air as I mutter to myself. I briefly toy with the idea of walking the 45 minutes back to my flat but dismiss it. It's just too dangerous these days, and some of those roads and underpasses aren't lit. No point inviting danger.

Finally, just as I'm pulling out a cigarette to pass the time, I see the welcome headlights and lit 'Taxi' sign of a black cab coming towards me. Frantically I wave him down, sighing with relief when he starts to turn towards me. Grabbing my bag, I hurry over and pull open the door, throwing myself inside and out of the cold.

"Stretf..." I start to say when the opposite door of the cab opens and a vaguely familiar guy pulls himself in.

Dark hair pokes out from under his hood as he looks over at me and says, "You don't mind sharing the cab, do you? I've not seen any for ages and it's freezing out there!" He smiles over at me and I pause, remembering how I had felt out in the cold. His dark hoodie is coated in a fine mist and I realise that it must have started to drizzle again. His face is pleasant; all laughter lines, light brown eyes and an easy smile.

I smile back, push my nagging doubts to the back of my mind and reply, "Sure, hop in, hope you're headed my way or it could get a little expensive!"

"Just heading down to the warehouse district then mate," he tells the taxi driver, and after looking at me in his rearview mirror and seeing my nod, the driver pulls out.

I look over at my surprise companion and try to figure out where I'd seen him before. His dark hair starts to curl slightly on his forehead as it dries from its brief shower and I can almost feel a memory tickling the back of my mind. He holds my stare squarely and starts sliding closer.

'Fan-bloody-tastic, I had to get a have-a-go Romeo jump in my taxi,' I roll my eyes and start to shrink away against the side of the cab but his arm shoots out around me and I feel the tip of something sharp, under my coat, pricking at the warm flesh underneath. I freeze, afraid to breath. Turning my head towards him, I start to open my mouth.

"Shut it bitch," he hisses in my ear and twists the knife closer into my kidney. "Just do exactly what I say and don't even think about screaming. I'll be only too happy to shut you up again. Now, you're going to get out with me, understand?"

I nod my head, too terrified to speak. The knife doesn't waver an inch as he whispers, "Good girl, look down at the floor and don't look back up again, can you do that?"

I nod again, feeling my world come crashing down.

The city streets sped away under the glow of the streetlamps from the corner of my eye as we go to a part of the city I have never spent much time in. Filled with cash'n'carries and wholesalers, it's a maze of small roads and back alleys.

I try to think how hurt I would be if I threw myself out of the cab but stop, noticing the red light by the window, signifying a locked door. I decide that I might be able to make a break for it when the cab arrived wherever this man, this monster, was directing it. Surely we weren't stopping in this deserted industrial quarter? Once we got to his house, there'd be other houses, other people that I could get help from. All it would take is a bit of luck, some good timing and a swift kick to the genitals and I'd be home free. He'd have to pay the driver and I could dive out the door then.

Having a plan made me feel a little less tense, and anger arrived in its place, liquid and fiery. Who the hell did this guy think he was, to put a knife to my ribs and threaten me in this way? I welcomed the anger like an old friend, with open arms. It kept the fear at bay, the fear that I might not get away, the fear of what he wanted to do to me, the fear that it might be the last night that I saw.

'No, stop thinking like that, you are going to teach this bastard a lesson and go on to listen to Sal moaning tomorrow like nothing ever happened.' I tell myself. 'There's no other way that this could end.'

The cab abruptly stops and I start to lift my head.

"What did I tell you?" he snarls. The knife jabs deeper and I can feel a thin trickle of warmth start down my side at the pain, the heat of his body encircling mine, "Now, pay the driver and smile".

My plan goes to pieces as I realise that he does not intend to leave my side, even for a moment. Shaking, I reach into my bag and remove my purse, taking a couple of notes out. I put them in the tray and start to pray that the driver turns around and sees me. He extends his arm backwards through the small opening, takes the money, counts the change, and turns his vacant light back on. His eyes don't flick up once.

"Thanks, have a good night" the driver says as he pushes me out of the cab, one arm gripping my shoulder like a vice, the other still holding the knife to my kidney.

I hear the cab turn round and start to drive off, and my anger boils over into rage. Like I'd been taught, I dug my thumbs into my captor's soft, fleshy spot on his inside wrist where he held my shoulder, moving forwards and sideways as I did. Falling to one knee, he scrambled for the knife while I delivered a kick to his head...then I ran.

I didn't know where I was and every dark, lonely street looked the same as the rest. My breath coming raggedly, I carried on sprinting as fast as I could, my only thought to put as much distance between myself and that animal that had tried to capture me.

Finally I stopped.

Relief poured through me, and adrenaline, making my legs shake and my head spin. I couldn't hear any sounds of pursuit, so I started to walk, while I tried to find some landmarks to figure out how to get back to town. I reached into my handbag to get my mobile and see whether I had any signal to call the police but, despite scrabbling inside, I came up empty.

'Damn, I must have dropped it when I ran.' I thought, feeling a little smug about the kick I had dealt him. I started walking faster, the empty, dark windows of the old mill buildings staring down at me from above giving me the sensation of being followed...hang on, that was it!

That was why he had looked so familiar...I had seen him at the train station before coming into town...hadn't he sat a few seats down from me on the train? And again when I went to buy cigarettes before hitting the bar, he was browsing through the magazines. And of course, he'd been sat at the corner of the bar all night, I brushed past him on my way to the toilet.

I was so caught up remembering where I'd seen him that night, so shocked that it had been planned, I had been chosen and not just an easy opportunity, that I never even heard the blow that felled me...