Gonna go see the movie The Passenger and that makes me think hitchhiker!Kyle Garrick and the truck driver!Reader, who picks him up in the middle of the empty road.
Itβs snowing like crazy, temperature quickly dropping when you see him on the side of the road, your headlights illuminating him.
Tall and pretty, very obviously freezing β thumb up, although the expression on his face lets you know that you would not be the first one to pass him.
But the weather is nasty and you know firsthand how bad it feels to get stranded someplace cold with no help coming. Itβs at least thirty miles to the next gas station and the sun has set an hour ago.
Itβs not wise to pick up strangers, he could be a serial killer, you think, nonetheless hitting the brakes. Small voice in your head screaming that this is dumb and this is exactly how people disappear while travelling.
βIf he is a serial killer, he isnβt a very good one.β You murmur under the breath and roll down the window, leaning in over the passenger seat to take a better look at him.
The stranger quickly steps closer, trying to smile, only his teeth chatter so much you can hear it all the way from where he stands.
Christ, he is a very bad serial killer if he is one.
The stranger isnβt dressed for the weather, you note β his dark jacket ripped, his jeans worn out and muddy. Like he took a nasty tumble from somewhere.
Only there is not a scratch on him.
βNot a good weather for a hike.β You tell him and the man chuckles, palms tucked in his armpits β his shoulders go up and down when he sighs, shuddering out air. βWhat happened? You need a lift?β
βCar troubles.β He says, giving you another embarrassed shrug, trying to say βcan you believe it?β with his whole body. βIβm Kyle. Kyle Garrick. Listen, I know itβs not- not wise to pick up a bloke on the dark road, but Iβd owe you big time if you did.β He laughs nervously as you silently nod along, watching him.
Not saying no just yet, but not rushing to let him.
βWhat happened to you?β You ask, nodding at the jacket and the dried up mud on his knees and Kyle tries to smile again even though it looks more like a grimace. Still, you gotta give him a couple points for trying his best to remain cheerful.
βBeen out for a while. Iβm afraid, Iβm not built for theβ¦uh, outdoors.β He shares and you nod, humming. Something doesnβt feel right about this whole situation.
Something feels off about it and the smart thing would be to call up the nearest police station on your radio and let them know about the guy stranded. But taking anyone out here might take a while and he looks like he has already been here long enough.
βGet in.β You say, after another momentβs contemplation and unlock the passenger door, something cool and quiet settling in your chest. Some prey animal part of you that helped humans survive as species for so long.
But Kyleβs face lights up like Christmas tree and he wastes no time wrenching the doors open, hauls himself up in the seat next to yours.
You silently turn the heater up higher and the locks on doors click again, enclosing the two of you in the tight space.
βThank you so much for that. One of my mates lives not far from here β I donβt have a single quid on me, but heβd pay you back for the trouble, I promise.β Kyle breathes out, sagging into your seat with relief. Up close his eyes arenβt just brown, but dark green around the pupil.
Like a tree covered in moss, you think. Your grandfather used to tell you that the mossy side is always the northern one. For a moment, you wonder if that logic can be applied to Kyle as well.
βSeatbelt on.β You just say, turning the keys in the ignition, your eyes flicking to his face one more time. βAnd itβs fine. I donβt need money from you or your mate.β
You donβt see the way Kyleβs eyes narrow, smile widening in a way that shouldnβt be possible β hint of teeth flashing. When you glance at him again, nothing seems amiss.
He dutifully puts the seatbelt on and huddles closer to the warm air of your working heater.
His fingers tremble slightly, you note. There is something under his fingernails too.
But you donβt have the time to stare at his hands with the ribbon of the road unrolling in front of you light of your headlights.
Could be mud anyway. God knows Kyle looks like heβs seen plenty of it today.
βIβm heading all the way down north.β You share after another moment, glancing at him again to find Kyle still staring right at you. Not even blinking till you look him in the eyes. βAny particular stop I can drop you off?β You ask him, tone light even though your heart is anything but.
No good deed goes unpunished and as handsome as Kyle is, something about him doesnβt seemβ¦right.
βAny working gas station would do. Honestly, I just need a place with electricity to make a call so my mate can pick me up.β He laughs, warm and slightly hoarse, like he is thirsty and the sound itself feels like a warm palm stroking you down the spine.
βAh, he lives around these parts?β You risk another glance at him to find Kyle smiling, like this conversation is the biggest fun he has ever had. Although, maybe after being stranded in the middle of nowhere, a chit chat with a stranger in a warm cabin of the truck does feel nice.
βYou could say that.β Kyle hums, lacing his long fingers together, finally getting warmer if his shoulders dropping is any indicator. βHe moves around a lot.β
You nod, not wanting to pry too much even though the questions start piling up one by one. If his mate is someplace close by why didnβt he check what happened to Kyle who by the looks of it has been stranded on a road for a few hours minimum?
There is another one you really donβt want to ask.
At least not while Kyle is still in your truck and there is no one else on the road.
βYou been out there for a while, I take.β You mention mindlessly, nodding at his muddy knees and Kyle chuckles, low, letting out air through the nose.
βNot many people are asβ¦charitable as you.β He says slowly, like he is picking his words and you nod. That makes sense. Even in the daylight picking up a stranger could be dangerous on an empty road. βSo I really appreciate your help.β Kyle pauses and in the periphery of your vision you can see him tilting his head to the side. βSorry, I donβt remember getting your name.β
βI didnβt give you one.β You say simply, not exactly in any hurry to introduce yourself and when you look at the Kyle, there is a weird look on his face. His smile still wide, only his eyes arenβt smiling with it. Like half of his face got frozen.
His back is leaning on the passenger door, his whole torso turned your way.
He has been staring at you all this time, you realise, your own face freezing as you look back at the road. And it was no coincidence either with the way he positioned himself.
βItβs cold outside.β You add, steering the topic away. "Wouldn't have picked you up if it wasn't so cold tonight. Snowing too." You explain and don't look Kyle's way, grip tight on the sterring wheel. "Although, if it was really hot outside I'd have probably picked you up then as well."
Kyle chuckles, again, huffing the amusement of it out through his nose and the ice of tension between the two of you cracks, drip of his emotion leaking out of them.
"Seems like you would have picked me up either way, love." He says and the endearment rolls out smooth and soft, feeling more of a caress than casual friendliness. His accent circles the shell of your ear before dipping in it. Londoner, probably. "Do you pick people up often?" Kyle asks, leaning a little closer.
"I pick up those who need it." You say, slowly, risking another glance at him. "You meet a lot of hitchhikers when on the road. Some just want a lift. I pick up those who actually need one."
You feel Kyle moving more than you really see it, his face appearing in the periphery of your vision when he leans in, genuine curiosity in his voice getting you hook, line and sinker.
When he tilts his head, you can see the rope burn on his neck, peaking from under the collar of his turtleneck.
Welts of it still raised on his skin.
"The feeling, mostly." You respond, voice shyer as you stare at the dark ribbon of the road unrolling under the burning gaze of your headlights.
There really isn't another way to tell him that for the most part, all you really have to go off is a gut feeling and some luck that the person you are picking up isn't a serial killer.
"When I saw you I could tell that you didn't really expect me to slow down, most of all, actually let you into the truck. You've had this face that sort of gave it away for a moment." You explain for some reason, even though he didn't ask you to elaborate. "You were freezing and you were alone and you didn't think I'd help. So I helped."
You don't know how to tell him that it felt like you'd see him again even if you wouldn't have picked him up without sounding like a lunatic. There was no way for Kyle to re-appear a few hundred feet down the road after getting driven past by you.
No way he could sprint all that way down before your truck would have gotten there. People don't run that fast.
"I didn't catch the make of your car that you had trouble with." You say and don't ask, still not looking his way and you can hear the smile in his voice when he answers, taking immense pleasure in it.
"I didn't give you one." Kyle says and the chuckle you let out is breathy and surprised, rushing out of you with the air. It should not be funny to you, but for some reason it really is, when he feeds you back a teaspoon of your own reclusiveness.
You brush off the stubborn thought that you did not see any cars broken down while you were driving. That you'd have seen his hazard lights flashing yellow if there way a vehicle.
"I take it you've been enjoying nature for some time." You continue your earlier branch of conversation and Kyle hums, nodding.
"You could say that. Didn't have much luck till you."
He says, his breath grazing your ear. Only when you snap your head to look at him β he is still leaning on the passenger door, smiling at you, like nothing is wrong. There is no way he could move without disturbing the air.
There is no way he could be in two places at once.
When he arches his brow, eyes twinkling with amusement, the heat that hits you in the face forces you to look back at the road, nail scratching at the leather of your steering wheel.
Damned be sleepless nights and handsome strangers.
"I've been in your position before. A couple times." You don't know why you tell him that. Maybe it's an effect of a stranger on the train, or in your case, in the truck. Maybe it's just Kyle's effect. Either way, you doubt that you'd see him again. "Nasty feeling getting stranded far out in a cold miserable weather."
"Did you get picked up by someone too?" He asks, leaning a little closer again, his frequent movement back and forth reminding you of roly-poly you had as a baby.
You don't really have to tell him anything, you don't own Kyle details or the story of your life. But he is listening. You might as well talk.
"No." The admission feels like getting the wind knocked out of you again. "Hiked 18 miles wearing sneakers till I got to the gas station. Slept the night in their bathroom β got kicked out of it around early morning." You share, staring at the road without really seeing it.
This has been a long time ago, you are not that helpless little person anymore. It doesn't matter at this point. It passed and you aren't weaker for that.
"That's a long way to go." Kyle says, tone a little softer, when he leans his temple against the headrest of the seat, still staring at you. "You gotten a lift after that?"
"I did." You nod, jaw tightening and Kyle makes a quiet 'ah' sound that you are relieved to hear. You don't really feel like going into graphic detail.
"Had to pay for it." He says and doesn't ask and you hum in confirmation, trying to project the casual confidence that you don't really feel, instead feeling the sweat along your hairline. Cool and sticky. Always clings to your skin.
"Not many things in life are free." You just say and you can feel Kyle's eyes on the side of your face, his fingers moving even when interlaced. Stroking his knucles.
If you don't focus, the blurr of the movement almost feels like tree branches moving.
You don't know where does the comparison comes from, but the picture is so vivid that you have to tell yourself to stop noticing the motion for the sake your own focus.
"Is that why you won't take the money?" He cracks each knuckle of his fingers, filling the space with quit pops as he passes each finger.
"That and the fact that you are very handsome." You say out of nowhere and the startle cackle he lets out is so human out of all he did today that some anxiety inside of you unclenches it's tension on your heart for a moment. He doesn't sound pretty, when he laughs like that.
On the contrary, his throat constricts in almost a wheeze that he pushes through to laugh.
Kyle has the sort of laugh that makes other people laugh too when he starts.
"That's sweet of you to say, when I still could be a serial killer." His retort nips at you, pulls your lip into a smile wider than you expected to make and the satisfaction in his voice is enough to make your cheeks hotter. "Although you too are a sight for sore eyes."
"Doesn't sound much like a compliment." You say, still grinning and he huffs out air again, pleased with the banter or pleased with the way you react, it is getting difficult to say.
"I'm sorry." Kyle smiles, lips curling upwards and when you send him a sideways glance, the prominent canines of his catch your eye first. Only his eyes crinkle in a way that sends sunrays of wrinkles from the corners of them and you forget that you need to look at the road and not at him. "I'm slightly out of practice with my people skills."
"You've been out a while." You mean it as teasing but he smiles even wider, nodding like he is happy you get it.
"I have." Kyle says, warm and a little tired, his eyes are half-lidded when you glance at him again. No wonder he's exhausted with the way things have turned for the worst for him.
"You can sleep if you want. I'll wake you up when we get to our first stop." You offer, lowering your voice and when Kyle huffs out air again in what feels a lot like a preamble to a very polite and stubborn 'no, thank you, i will endure the hardships' you start talking before he can. "If you really are a serial killer, the odds of two of those being in the same truck is miniscule. You'd have to trust the statistics on this one." You mean it as a joke and to your absolute glee Kyle smiles again when you look at him.
He doesn't say anything in response, but when you look back at him, your passenger is fast asleep, wrapped in his torn up jacket, mud on his jeans rubbing off on your seats.
You will need to wipe everything down after you drop him off, you think, staring ahead, shoulders more relaxed now that you made him laugh.
It's nice to chat to an actual person once in a while and nice to have someone this pretty around who seems to think that you are a great deal of fun.
It really is, you think, thumb stroking your steering wheel as the endless road stretches in front of your truck. Long and dark, trees on each side closing in.
"You know, it's been a real pleasure, love." The voice breathes out right in your ear suddenly and you yelp, hitting the brakes, only training preventing you from sending yourself and the entire truck into the nearby tree.
When you turn to look at Kyle, more scared than actually mad, he smiles - wide and warm. Gives you a moment to focus on it.
Lets you take in that his teeth are too many.
That his smile stretches wider that it should.
That his long long fingers do move in sync when he rubs his knuckles again.
"I don't get that many rides, you know." He shares, tilting his head to the side and you don't know what to do with the ringing panic in your head that wipes your mind clean of a single bloody thought. "I've said it before, I've been out for a while. Gets more difficult to get people to pick me up voluntarily, I usually have to go the other way around."
You don't know how you know, but there is this sudden vision of him standing on the side of the road when someone drives by. He stands there again and again, each time a little closer. Up until he is right in the passenger seat.
Each such time the car is sent into the nearest tree, the airbag knocking the driver out. So Kyle has time to kill their engine.
"What happens now?" You ask, swallowing thickly and don't know with the molten heat mixed with the terror when Kyle's dark eyes follow the movement of your throat.
"My mate's picking me up here." Kyle shares easily, rolling his shoulders like he is stretching his muscles for something. "Thought I'd get more time with you, but he is on a roll today, so I'm afraid this is the end of the road."
The apology in his tone is enough to make your eyes water. Really, no good deed goes unpunished and you are about to find out how much yours was worth.
"Aw, love, no." Kyle coos, leaning in, his too long fingers closing around your nape and stroking the beating vein on your throat. "C'mon, don't cry on my behalf. I loved your company. We'll see each other again." He promises, only that makes you want to cry a little bit more.
"You said you need the gas stop." You gurgle out and he hums, still smiling like it's cute that you still try to talk to him. "But here...there's nothing around, Kyle. It's just...dark and cold." Your throat works again and this time his finger follows it's motion. Almost affectionately stroking your skin.
"Don't worry, love. Darkness hasn't bothered me for a while now." He smiles even wider, his face molding for the exaggerated emotion he is trying to mimic.
When the branches start snapping terribly close to your truck, something big moving through the forest straight to you, Kyle strokes your nape again. Trying to soothe, you realise.
"You have a good night, love. I'll go now or else my mate will come out and then...well, let's not find out, okay?" He asks like you have a choice in the matter and hops out of your truck after you give him a shaky nod.
You don't want to look into what was moving through the thicket to you, but you can't make yourself drive off while you can still see Kyle - in his ripped jacket with his mudded jeans. His smile widening grotesquely when he notices you are still there and waves a hand with too long fingers.
You take it as your que to hit the gas immediately.
The shape that you see in your side-view mirror is enormous and dark, it scoops Kyle up, simply disappearing him.
You can't help but remember the anglerfish, comparison forcing a shiver through you as you accelerate down the road.
Hour later when you reach the first town and crawl out of your truck, wobbling your way into the first 24 hour place open that has WiFi, you spend almost an hour googling road legends.
Takes you a decent meal and a bathroom break before you work up a courage to Google Kyle Garrick.
The sergeantΒ Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick who disappeared off duty while traveling to Manchester to see an old military mate of his. They found his body in spring, hanging from the tree in the woods.
Sources say he took a nasty tumble when he allegedly got forced into the noose.
Sources say, the body disappeared before police got to take it away to the morgue. Someone cut down the rope.
Case remained cold, given lack of evidence and lack of the body that someone took, sources say.
Because really, it's not like he could just walk away himself from there, right?
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