Death came on a two lane highway.
Holly Janek saw the fast approaching headlights in her rearview mirror. What could possibly be the hurry at a quarter to three in the morning? In her perspective, most drivers tended to be in one of two camps: too slow idiots or too fast maniacs. This one was clearly in the second category, as the car shot out into the oncoming lane looking to pass. Just as the car came alongside hers, it slowed and the driver flicked on his brights. Asshole. Blinded, Holly swore again and looked away from the mirror. Then, the unthinkable happened as her last day on earth came to a close.
In rapid succession, the blinding light seemed to turn into her car, she felt a heavy bump and her car was no longer under control. The rear slid to her right, threatening to take her off the highway.
Fighting the skid—one learns these things growing up in Minnesota—Holly steered into it. This is where the minuscule margin of error came back to bite Holly in the ass. Cranking the wheel to her left, Holly oversteered—sending the Camry into a clockwise spin. All control gone, Holly could hear herself scream as the car spun out.
Abruptly, it was over. Dazed and banged up, Holly found herself in the ditch pointed in the wrong direction. Reaching for her cell phone—tantalizing inches from her grasping fingers in the center console—Holly doesn’t think to release her seat belt. The violent images of the last minute cycle through her head. What happened? Where’s the other driver?
A tapping at the glass pulled Holly’s attention away from the phone. The silhouetted figure rapped insistently on the passenger window, gesturing to the locked door. She assumed it was the other driver trying to make amends for his poor driving. Fumbling, Holly managed to lift on her side’s door lock mechanism, unlocking the door. The door opened and a man slid into the passenger seat next to her. He studied her for a long moment, and asked, “Are you all right?”
Illuminated by the glow of the dome light, Holly looked into his eyes, not sure she liked what she saw there. “What happened?” she asked.
The man smiled in a way that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “Just a little accident,” he said, his voice slow and monotone. “Just a little accident.” He reached over, clicking Holly’s seatbelt loose.
Holly felt the tears run down her cheek as the man reached toward her. An impartial onlooker would think a moment of tenderness passed between the two as the man smeared the tracks of her tears and gently brushed back her long blonde hair. The onlooker would be wrong.
Viciously grabbing her by the hair, the man slammed Holly’s face into the steering wheel, feeling the impact all the way to the back of her head. And for good measure, he slammed it again feeling her nose break this time. Pulling his fingers from her hair, he pushed her limp head back against the seat. Blood flowed from her ruined nose.
The man paused, staring at her as if it’s the first time he’s seen her. Long blonde hair, white silk blouse, dark skirt riding high on her taut thighs. Shiny black stiletto heels. “Mmmm,” he murmured running his hand up her thigh. With his other hand, he pushes her skirt up, stroking the lace of her panties as he traced his finger along the front.
Forcing his eyes to look away, the killer slides his hand up her silk blouse. Almost tenderly, he undoes her top button, enjoying the view of her cleavage. He slipped a hand into her bra, cupping her warm breast in his hand, feeling her nipple between his fingers. Her heartbeat evident as he squeezed her breast. Not for long though he thinks, not for long. Grabbing the back of her head, the killer slams her face into the steering wheel again. And again. And again