The icy road’s sharp curves were treacherous, but Andy was more concerned with his vision. The alcohol was taking its toll; he hadn't planned on having more than two Blue Moons, but the shitty workday wrecked those plans in an epic way. The two aisles he stocked at Kroger had been ravaged by the customers and half of his evening shift had been spent straightening up the mess they’d made. Why in the hell did people feel the need to put ice cream and bloody pot roast on the unfrozen, unrefrigerated bake aisle? The blood from the wrapped meat tray dripped onto the goddamn flour bags. Assholes!

 

       Now, fighting anger, sleepiness, and one hell of a buzz from the five Blue Moons he ended up drinking, Andy’s knuckles turned white from his tense grip on the steering wheel as the pesky yellow line on the dark, wet pavement became harder to keep to his left. Fortunately, the temperature had warmed up enough during the day to melt away most of the remaining snow, though it had radically dropped with the sun. All the moisture from the melted snow and the below-freezing temperature made this drive home problematic.

 

       All of the above could have led to this encounter, or it may have simply been fate. People are like magnets; some attract good things and some bad. Andy normally found bad, but on this night, evil found him.

 

       Blinking rapidly and shaking his head to stay awake, the sharp curve ahead crept into view. Having wrecked on this exact curve as a 16-year-old, Andy always reduced his speed more than was necessary. That’s what he did on this night, slowly pushing the brakes as his speedometer dropped. The condition of the road wasn’t what his inebriated mind expected, nor had he slowed as much as he’d intended. When the tires met the ice, traction was lost and the front-heavy vehicle didn’t steer quite like Andy directed it. He wanted to take it to the left, but the disobedient car ignored the movement of the steering wheel and continued on its present course; toward the wall of earth and woods straight ahead.

 

       Though he’d slowed considerably, the impact when steel hit earth snapped Andy’s head first one way, then the other, eventually introducing the driver’s side window to the left side of his face. After coming to a stop, he released the steering wheel and ran his hands around the throbbing lump rising on his head.

 

       The humming engine awaited his command, but Andy needed a minute to collect himself and assess the damage. He gave his Washington Capitals keyring a turn, killing the engine as the keys clanked from the shaking fingers that turned them. His aching head instantly felt better without the extra noise.

 

       After a few deep breaths, he opened the door when his heart came close to its normal beating rate. The cold air slapped him as he stood on shaky legs. Using his roof and hood for support, Andy walked around his faded-blue Ford Mustang (affectionately called “Donna”) to see if she’d been disfigured. The light on his cellphone ran back and forth over the passenger side of the car, and it looked like he’d get off easy this time. Whew! Just a small dent over the front wheel that he’d have knocked out by noon tomorrow. Child’s play!

 

       The walk back around the front of the car did not let him off so easily. His left leg flew out from under him when his Reebok found a patch of ice. Down he went on his drunk ass, the unforgiving pavement reminding him of the perils of “Walking Under the Influence.” He laughed. Whatcha gonna do? Carefully pulling himself up, he returned to his car—incident free the rest of the way—and fell into the driver’s seat, closing the door quickly, thankful for being out of the cold.

 

       Andy turned the key but waited as Donna roared to life. First things first. He lowered the window slightly to light up a Camel Crush Menthol—his frigid fingers struggling with the bead in the filter—when sounds of rustling leaves and breaking branches slowed the ascent of the cigarette to his mouth.

 

       The dense woods and moonless, cloud-covered night made the wall of darkness at which he stared conceal what lurked on the other side of the road. Oh well, probably just a deer. His trusty Zippo brightened the dark interior of the car, and he took a deep drag of his freshly lit goodness.

 

       With the car now in gear, Andy slowly released the clutch when the unseen whatever-it-was increased the speed of its gait. And it sounded BIG. Based on what he was hearing, this animal would come out of the darkness and into the road any second. One thing his mind was sure of: he didn’t want to see what the night’s curtain of woods revealed.

 

       The cigarette fell from Andy's mouth as he floored the gas pedal, sparks spraying from the impact on his lap. Donna’s tires spun for a brief moment, then finally caught, causing her to fishtail as she once again latched onto the pavement. Feeling a small measure of relief as he gained traction and speed, an enormous dark shape emerged from the woods just ahead of him. The alcohol and his awareness of the road conditions slowed his reaction time, and for the second time in less than five minutes, Andy struck something. Unlike the first time, this was the last. It wasn’t the impact that killed him, it was something very different.