~1,500

Being an owner-operator was probably the best job in the world--or so Dongwoo would argue.  Each trip he thought of as a new challenge, a thrilling adventure as he worked to make his day’s pay.  The dazzling sun would always smile down to him as he drove on by, passing through towns and places all across the country.  While on the road he could stop and go sightseeing, meet new people, taste the delicacies and specialties of each town; all while the dazzling sun smiled down to him as he drove on by.  In his mind, it was a vacation with the fake title of ‘work.’

He hadn’t really thought it through when he walked out of the Department of Motor Vehicles with his CDL, heading straight into a dealership to buy an eighteen wheeler, gambling everything on it.  In hindsight, his decision was quite precarious, and maybe he should have chosen a better truck or contracted with a better company; but everyone has to start somewhere. 

Now he has an automatic Volvo, equipped with an I-shift and an APU, living quite comfortably having mastered the roads of the country.  There wasn’t a single highway he hadn’t driven nor a single state he hasn’t gone through. 

He finishes filling up one of the tanks, a whopping five hundred dollars on his credit card—but that was cheap, after all.  He stuffs the pump back into its place, jumping back up into the cabin and slamming the door behind him.  He takes a sip of his coffee cup as pushes and releases the red and yellow buttons, situating himself comfortably in his seat with the seatbelt draping over his chest.  He starts off again, delivering a shipment of empty pallets down south this time.  He still had two days' time before the deadline, but there was still a long stretch of road needed to be covered before he could take his break and sleep. 

It’s hours into his drive when night breaks, a dark cover over the land, the headlights of his truck being the only source of light in the empty road stretch.  He has the radio playing something blue and smooth, tapping his fingers on the wheel as he hums along to the songs, gliding his head from side to side. 

He notices something in the distance; a small beam of light and a silhouette on the side of the road.  He starts slowing down, curious to what or who on earth would be walking down an abandoned highway in this pitch black night.  The figure stops, and Dongwoo can make out the shape of a man, waving with the light in his hands.

Ah, probably another hitchhiker.   

Dongwoo couldn’t turn away from helping another person.  It was in his personality, both a curse and a blessing.  So he comes to a halt, turning down the radio as the unknown man walks up towards the left of the tractor unit.  Dongwoo brings down the window, nodding a hello at the young man down on the ground.

“What happened?” Dongwoo asks with a small laugh.

“I need to get to the nearest hotel.  Can you please let me in?” the man asks politely, his voice strong and flat.

Dongwoo struggles with his mind and heart.  His mind told him he shouldn’t pick up random people on the side of the road, but his heart argued back that he should help this poor man get to some type of lodging for the night. 

“Please sir, let me go with you.  I need to find a place to stay,” the man asks again, his tone shifting a notch to something almost pleading.

Dongwoo takes a closer look at the young man, studying his features.  He estimated them the same height, but Dongwoo definitely had a better build than him, most likely due to his line of work.  This fragile looking youngster can’t size up to Dongwoo—and besides, Dongwoo knew how to handle himself, his iron fist very well capable of mauling anyone’s face.

“What should I call you?” Dongwoo says, hinting at his acceptance and yet not clearly stating it.

“Howon, sir.  Will you let me in?” the young man looks up to him from the ground, and Dongwoo saw his pale white face for the first time, making him look even more brittle.

In that brief instance his mind told him something was wrong, but his heart squeezed at this poor lad, so he laughed it off, shaking off the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. 

“Sure, come on in,” he said, and the young man grinned, walking to the other side of the door.

Dongwoo unlocked it for him, and Howon climbed up and sat down inside.  Dongwoo took a real good look at him this time—blue and white checkered shirt paired with black pants, nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing with him except that flashlight.  So Dongwoo relaxes, starts up the truck again and sets off. 

Howon turns out to be very quiet, but Dongwoo being the chatterbox he is, tells him his life story without the other even asking for it.  The other man nods politely, showing that he’s paying attention even though he’s oddly stiff.  As Dongwoo talks into the night, a heavy fog starts gathering, a chill forming in the air and forcing Dongwoo to grab a light jacket to throw on his shoulders.  He mumbles something to Howon about how ridiculous it is to be getting this cold in the middle of a scorching hot summer, and Howon just grins again, chaste lips breaking in that pale face.

About an hour later Dongwoo sees a mile marker, informing him that they’ve entered a new town.  He knows from previous trips that there’s a small motel about thirty minutes down the road, and he lets Howon know he’ll drop him off there.

In the corner of his eye Dongwoo notices something flash across the man’s face; but it disappears before he can even recognize it, a brief flicker painting across. 

Dongwoo ignores it, taking another drink from his cold coffee, hating the taste as it slides down his tongue.  The radio is playing along in the background when the engine starts to die down.  It groans and creaks, and Dongwoo curses under his breath as it suddenly goes off, putting them to a complete stop. 

Howon asks him what’s happened, and Dongwoo doesn’t have an explanation.   He frowns, not understanding why his truck would just shut down without any of the dashboard indicator lights warning him.  It’s true that breakdowns are common, he’s had many, many, before—but there was always a reason.  Something popping up on the dashboard, a sound of a tire bursting; there was always some indication.  He purses his lips, trying the ignition again.  The engines chokes, a small rattle in the compartment before it goes dead again.

Dongwoo stares at his dashboard in disbelief, a small huff escaping his lips.  He turns to Howon, the other man’s eyes solemn as his stoic face is lit by the high moon reflecting down.

“Uh..well this is unexpected.  Let me think..” Dongwoo grumbles, gathering his thoughts together.

A tap catches his ears, and Dongwoo turns back to the road.  Then a loud knock sounds on Dongwoo’s door, almost making him jump out of his skin.  He sighs, then takes a glance down the window to see the shock of his life.

Children.    Eerily pale, young children standing next to his door.  Four of them, small, jarring, and daunting with their heads down to the ground.  The tallest, a girl with raven hair and a thin limb knocks on the door again, speaking softly.

“Please take us home, our parents would be very worried.  We need to use your telephone to call them,” the girl says tonelessly.

Every fiber in Dongwoo’s body screamed to him that something was off.

 “How did you even—”

Dongwoo freezes when they look up at him.  It’s as if time had him stilled, his senses hitting a peak when he sees their eyes—solid, dark black irises staring back, shaking his very essence.  His heart starts beating like a mad man, dread engulfing his mind as he started to panic.  He had no idea why, but he became gripped with terror, breaking into a cold sweat as utter fear coursed through his body, sinking its claws into his chest, and suffocating his heart.  Those soulless glass orbs bored into him, rendering him immobile.  He registers their voices again, a knock again, then blood-curdling voices asking for permission to come inside, their tones turning hostile by the moment.  The hair sticks up on the back of his neck, his skin etching in horripilation.  Then he suddenly remembers he’s not alone, Howon is with him, yes, Howon will help him out. 

He forces his head to turn, looking to Howon, wanting to scream, wanting to make it end, wanting to get away from these petrifying children—only to feel his heart drop in his chest.  The man sat there with a grin, obsidian oculi staring back at him.