Now the harsh red glow of his brake lights punctured the gloom ahead, until the car pulled a three-point turn and fled past me in the opposite direction. My lights caught the frightened expression on the driver’s chubby face.
I craned my neck upwards, windscreen wipers slapping away the rain.
Moving against the evening clouds, partially hidden by the jagged peaks of the woodlands, was a slender frame; spindly, insectoid. I rubbed my tired eyes, a sickness welling. Far off thuds indicated where its massive legs were landing. The ground shook as one slammed into the woods to my left, flattening a gathering of trees like bowling pins.
I pulled the same three-point turn and ground my accelerator into the floor. In the rearview, the spindly silhouette raised what might have been its head and roared to the heavens.
I never did like driving this route anyway.