The car hurtled toward the end of the blind alley. Trapped in the passenger seat, Chris watched helplessly as his life rushed to its swift conclusion...
Just three weeks ago, he had met the most amazing girl he’d ever known. Her name was Alyssa. She had red hair and blue eyes and a figure to die for. They talked for a few minutes, and he asked her for her phone number and got it. Four days later, they saw a movie together. They began talking as he walked her to her apartment.
“I really enjoyed that movie tonight,” he said. God, can I be any more cliche?
“I didn’t,” she said. “I wish we’d done something else.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A movie is so... solitary. We sit next to each other, but we aren’t together. Something where we’re more... together?” She raised her eyebrow.
“How about... dinner? Monday?”
“Sure,” she said. “Your place or mine?”
“Uh... mine. That’s fine. Yeah, mine.”
“Sure.” She stopped in front of her door. “We’re here.” They faced each other.
“I’ll call you on Sunday, give you directions?”
“That’s great,” she said. She smiled. One of them took the other’s hands.
“I guess I’ll be going,” Chris said. He started to go, but stopped. He was still holding Alyssa’s hands.
They kissed quickly, and he walked away. By the time he stopped and turned back to look, she was already inside and the door was closing. But the curtain moved slightly before he turned back.
Alyssa! / I’ve just kissed a girl named Alyssa! / And suddenly I’ve found / How wonderful a sound can be!
The car raced toward the blank wall...
Monday had been an evening of sheer heaven. Chris had to order takeout from a nearby Chinese restaurant, but Alyssa enjoyed it immensely. They talked for hours, sat together on the sofa, snuggled for a while and then made love, and Alyssa stayed until morning. From then on, they alternated nights at each other’s apartments. For once, things finally seemed to be working right.
Still, Alyssa insisted they never come home from a date to her apartment. She said she had to make sure it was ready for him before he came in. One day, a week later, Chris arrived at her home early. He knocked, but got no response, though he thought he heard something.
“Alyssa? Is that you?”
He knocked again.
He tried the knob, which was open, and slowly pushed the door in. The living room was strewn about with broken furniture and shattered glass. He cautiously stepped inside. A picture frame whizzed past his head, smashing into the wall behind him. He jerked back toward the door. He heard a female cry of rage, and a man in a black coat fell through the bedroom door and landed on his back with a grunt. Alyssa stepped forward above him, towering with fury, her arms tensed, fists clenched, hair wild and lips parted in wrath.
“Don’t you ever try to hurt my Chris again, you bastard!”
The man in the black coat leapt to his feet and rushed past Chris, out the front door. Chris started to chase after him, but Alyssa planted her hand firmly around his arm.
“No,” she said, simply.
“But he’ll get away! I mean—”
“That’s all right.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“No! We’ll just forget—”
“But what was he trying to do to you?”
“Never you mind!” she snapped. Her hand constricted around his arm, and he stopped asking questions. She relaxed, and gestured to the couch, then sat down. He followed suit.
“If you must know,” Alyssa said, “that was Louie, my ex-boyfriend. He’s really harmless, though he makes a big show—”
“Harmless? He almost hit me with that picture frame! And what do you call all this?” He gestured around the room at the wreckage.
“Nothing I couldn’t have cleaned up by seven o’clock.”
“How often does this happen?”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Of course it is! I love you!”
She laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“We’ve only been together a week and a half! You don’t really know me!” She smiled seductively. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know I want you,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her.
The car screamed toward sudden death...
A week later, Chris awoke in Alyssa’s bedroom. She was pressed close to him, her head resting on his shoulder. But something was wrong, he was sure of it. There was a dark shape in the shadows by the door, moving slightly. He slipped out of bed carefully, trying not to awake Alyssa, and moved slowly toward the door. God, it’s cold, he thought. By the time he reached the door, there was nothing there. Must’ve been my imagination.
Alyssa moaned quietly, then stretched a little. “Come back to bed, Chris.”
He was very tired, and very cold, and quite happy to comply. But he fell asleep still convinced that something was wrong.
The car pulled up in front of his apartment a week later, and Alyssa stepped out. Chris watched her from his window, then opened the door and stepped outside. They greeted each other with a quick hug and kiss.
“Nice car!” he said. It was a brand-new gleaming red sports car.
“Thought I’d take you for a ride in it!”
“Great! Let me just lock up here.”
Moments later, he was sitting in the car, Alyssa behind the wheel. She turned on the ignition, then locked all the doors. She began driving.
“This is really comfortable,” Chris said, “except the seat belt’s a little tight. I can’t seem to adjust it.”
“Here, let me help,” she said. She pressed a button on the dashboard, and a belt whipped around the middle of the seat, pinning Chris’ arms.
“Uh, Alyssa... I can’t move.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, “you won’t need to.”
“What’s this all about?”
“I just wanted you to go out in style,” she said. “I really like you, Chris, and it would just kill me if I had to drive you insane first like Louie, or poison you like John. I thought you deserved this much.”
“You’re the one that threw the picture frame, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t want you to catch me in the act.”
“You came on to me that time to stop me thinking about the attack!”
“Very astute. I wanted to keep you as long as possible. But time’s run out.”
“Time on what!?“
“Time on you.”
Alyssa stopped the car, opened her door, and stepped out, keeping her right foot on the brake. She picked up her purse, pulled out a metal rod, and propped the accelerator. The engine roared. Chris tore his eyes away from her long enough to look ahead of the car. They were at the end of a wide alley. By the time the car hit the end, it would have built up enough speed he’d die instantly. He looked back at her.
“Why?” he asked.
“It’s a hobby.”
“Goodbye, Chris,” she said, pulling her foot away and letting the door close as it began to move forward.
The car hurtled toward certain, inevitable doom...
February 1995
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