At the traffic circle...

Take the second exit

Alyssa’s sweaty palms slid on the steering wheel. The traffic light remained stubbornly red even as she willed it to turn green. She tried not to look at the clock too often; it was never a comfort to see that more time than seemed possible had passed.

“It’s okay,” she told herself, drumming her freshly done nails on the wheel. “I can still make it there on time.”

She would be cutting it close, but arriving punctually was possible. This interview needed to go well. If she didn’t get the job just because she was a few minutes late, then she might as well get back in her car and just keep driving. That would be better than going home to Jeremy with bad news.

The light changed, and Alyssa peeled through the intersection. There was still time. She could still make it.

“At the traffic circle,” said the Google Maps virtual assistant, “take the second exit.”

Alyssa slammed the flat of her hand on the wheel. “Are you kidding me?! Since when was that there?”

The term “traffic circle” made it sound cute and trendy. She didn’t believe in using euphemisms, though. Call it what it was: an evil roundabout.

Her sister, Amanda, got into a car accident in a two-lane roundabout (seriously, whose idea was it to give it multiple lanes?). Not only was her car totaled, but the other driver also took her to court. Three years, three jobs, and one new used car later, and Amanda was in debt up to her eyeballs. Roundabouts were the work of the devil.

Heart pounding, Alyssa managed to slip into the roundabout unscathed. Another car quickly came up behind her, making her pulse jump in her neck. Which exit was she supposed to take? Why did Google Maps choose now to go silent? Just make a decision!

She turned sharply and took the next exit, tires squealing.

Google Maps pinged—the sound of failure. Alyssa squeezed the steering wheel and bit her tongue. It pinged a few more times as it attempted to find an alternate route after her wrong turn. The icon of her car on the screen spun in half circles, but no blue line appeared to show her a new route.

Hunching over the wheel, Alyssa screamed a string of profanity and repeatedly punched the horn.

The turn she’d taken had spit her out onto a one-way street that hadn’t yet branched. She had nowhere to turn around. Nowhere to go but straight ahead. Lining the street were white and beige suburban houses nestled in lush green lawns. Her eyes skated over them, on the hunt for anywhere to turn, even if it was just an alley.

Alyssa drove and drove, struggling more and more to breathe as the numbers on the clock crept higher. She was late. So, so late. But what could she do except keep driving?

---

The needle on the gas gauge dipped right along with the sun in the sky. Anger had given way to fear over an hour ago when Alyssa had realized that something was very wrong. This one-way street didn’t appear to end. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet there wasn’t any other explanation. She’d been so focused on the road that she had a pounding headache; no way could she have missed a potential exit.

One by one, the street lights turned on. Finally, she stopped in the middle of the road and peeled her cramping fingers away from the steering wheel. For hours, she hadn’t seen a single other car. Not one other person out in their front yards. Now that night was falling, she expected to see windows lighting up, but every one of them remained dark.

Suddenly, the night was pierced by flashing red and blue. Alyssa squinted against the reflections of the bright lights in her mirrors. No siren, but the police car looked legit. A dark silhouette stepped out of the car behind her and walked up on the window. Not even the flashing lights could illuminate the details of the officer’s face or uniform. He walked under a street light, the shadows surrounding him somehow becoming even more solid.

The relief she had started to feel shriveled up and died real quick. Before she could consider taking off, the officer was next to her car, one knuckle tapping on the window.

“Can I see your badge?” Alyssa asked through the glass.

Silently, the officer flashed something at her that was too dark to see properly. He knocked on the window again. Every hair on her body prickled, and desperate tears pricked her eyes. All she’d wanted was a job.

With one trembling finger, Alyssa lowered the window an inch.

A sound like shrieking metal assaulted her ears, and the shadowy officer’s face split open. Black liquid spewed from his face onto the top of her head and into her eyes.

And then the burning started.