Drive Me Wild Part 8

I came to in the car, right side up. Have I told you how much I fucking love my Possessed car? No? I fucking love my possessed car. I had a headache, but that was more likely from the hangover than from the crash. I rubbed my head. The little light streaming though my closed lids was torture, there was no way in hell I was going to actually open my eyes

"Mo, are you there?!"

"Yes Cal, I am still here."

"Good. Please tell me the whiskey's intact?"

I felt the seat shift as he spun around to check on the bottles of life-giving alcohol.

"Oh dear."

"What?! No Oh dear. I better not have heard you say oh dear."

"You did indeed Cal. You might want to have a look for yourself."

"The hell I will, the sun's out, do you know what that'll do to me? SPIVEY, honk twice if the floorboards in the back are wet."

*Toot*

A pause.

*Toot*

Fuck.

"YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!"

"Umm, Cal, I do believe spilled whiskey is the least of our problems at the moment."

"How could there be anything worse right now than me losing all that beautiful whiskey?"

Our car is surrounded by a bunch of those creatures that made us crash in the first place.

"WHAT!?"

I sat up like a shot and forced my eyes open. The bright sunlight barraging me sent a white hot throbbing steel poker of pain coursing through my skull. I felt like I might pass out. Everything I looked at had a black ring around the edges that was progressively irising in from the pain. But sure enough, surrounding the car was a whole gang of those creepy looking things. About 3 feet tall on all fours, and almost completely hairless except for an orange tuft around the head. They had big black eyes, like they were in one of those stupid Japanese cartoons. They had fangs like a vampire that were dripping with saliva. A few walked on all fours while one or two stood on hind legs and paced around the vehicle.

I grabbed two doses of pain pills from my coat pocket.

"Mo, find me a bottle that's not busted please."

I popped the pills in my mouth dry. Big mistake. My tongue was swollen from thirst and they got caught in the back of my throat, which just felt fantastic. Mo finally handed me a bottle. I popped the lid off and downed a quarter of the bottle with the first swig, sending those damned pills down my gullet whether liked it or not.

It was about this time that one of the things surrounding my car piped up and spoke.

"Cal McDonald, please come with us quietly."

I rolled down the window and stuck my head out, feeling a little better thanks to the momentary head rush from the flood of alcohol.

"Listen here runts; if you know me you know I never go anywhere quietly."
I heard a mutter from the passenger seat, "You got that right."

I spun towards Mo, "Who the hell asked you?"

He hung his head, "I'm just saying."

I spun back to the things, "Now if you think some talking runts with fangs are gonna scare me, then I honestly don't know what to tell you other than you've got another thing comin'."

With that I rolled up my window and turned the key in the ignition.

*RRRRRRRrrrrrrrrr*

I slammed the steering wheel, "SPIVEY, what the hell?!"

"We removed the spark plugs while you were passed out. Why don't you just come with us?"

"To where? The Honey Comb hideout?"

"I didn't want to have to do this; but you've left me no choice. Cabras, take him!"

As soon as he said that, my window smashed in and a rock hit me upside the head. One of those things hopped up on the edge with a huge rock in his surprisingly human like hand. His smile was more consequence of his dental structure than choice, but it was creepy nonetheless. He smashed me in the head, making my vision swim. The last thing that went through my head as he brought the rock down a second time, ultimately taking me down, is, "Why do I keep getting knocked out?"