Your character gets on a taxi and tells the driver to take him/her to the airport. But the driver has his/her own ideas about where they are headed….
I think there may be something wrong with me.
Of all the no good, rotten, pathetic days, today was the day Abigail needed to get across town on time. Not only was it pissing down rain like Noah was going to need to start on a remake, but it was looking like the earliest snow she could ever remember was coming in just in time for her flight to take off. She needed this new job and if she missed her flight or was delayed too long she would not even get a chance to show them how good she was.
“Son of a whore!” The words were out of her mouth before she saw the woman with two small children passing on the sidewalk in front of her building. The tired looking woman gave her a glare, but kept on walking, she and the kids bundled up against the cold and the rain. Their thick colorful coats stuck out from the edges of their rain ponchos making them look like muppets in trash bags. The thought made Abigail laugh, but not in an entirely happy way.
She didn’t even realize what had happened until the cold rain on her face made her blink. She was staring straight up at the sky. She must have slipped on the cold wet cement of the steps. Angrily, she picked herself up and stared checking for any obvious signs of damage. She found no blood or major bruises, even her head seemed fine. Her skirt was a little wet, but the trench coat she bought last week have kept most of it dry. Her hair would dry by the time she was at the airport and she could restyle it there.
“You called for a cab?” The man’s voice gave her a shiver. Abigail looked up from her self-assessment to see a scrawny man with black hair and sunglasses almost laid across the front seat of his taxi to holler through the open window. Sunglasses? Today? This was a nut job if she ever saw one. “You Abigail?” He tried again when he did not get a response to his first question.
“Oh. Yes.” She shook herself mentally. The fall must have shaken her up a bit. She picked her bag back up off the sidewalk where it had fallen and rolled it toward the cab, trying to look confident and un-rattled.
“Looks like you took a spill.” The man’s low gravelly voice was right next to her, making her jump. Maybe she had hit her head after all. “You need to be careful out here, they say it might could turn to snow before dark.” What kind of accent was that? She could not place it. She remembered a friend living in Texas once saying something like that. Might could. Maybe it was might should. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair, checking for lumps again. She didn’t feel a lump, in fact she felt fine. She was pretty sure she had not even managed to tear her pantyhose.
“So I heard,” she said drily. “I need to get to the airport.”
“So I heard,” he replied back with a cheeky grin. His too gaunt face was hard to look at and the reflective sunglasses on this gloomy day gave her the creeps.
“Cute,” was all she said as she slid into the backseat of the car. This was a fancy one, sleek and shiny black with leather interior. It even smelled new.
“Traffic ain’t too bad right now. I’ll be able to get you where you need to be real quick like.” His accent was bothering her now. He didn’t sound like Daniel at all. Something more hillbilly or redneck.
“Good, I can’t be late.”
“No one can, miss.” His door clammed shut and he restarted the car. It purred like a cat and was so well insulated she could not hear anything outside. That was why she was surprised to see the small crowd gathering on the steps of her building as they pulled away. Even the mother with the muppet children was there. She had no idea what that was about.
He was not kidding when he said the traffic as light. It was almost scary how few cars they saw on the wet roads. She became hypnotized by the reflections and smears of colors she saw outside her window and they road in silence for several minutes. The warmth and gentle motion of the cab lulling her into a state of drowsiness.
“Get clear!” Abigail jolted upright. He head had slumped to rest on the cool glass of the window. Where had that voice come from? It had been a man’s voice, strong and full of authority. The driver tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and hummed tunelessly to himself.
“Thought you’d gone to sleep, miss,” he said when he saw her staring wide eyed at him. “Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he chuckled. Why this was funny, she had no idea.
“Don’t be absurd…” Abigail started to say more but realized she had a bigger problem at hand. “Where the hell are we? I told you I had to go to the airport.” Thoughts of homicidal maniacs and terrorist kidnappings jumbled around in her head.
“I’m afraid that is not actually the plan, Abigail.” Had the driver’s voice changed, was it less rough?
“Let me out this moment,” she demanded, grabbing for the handle. She would just sacrifice her bag if that was what it took to get out of here, but the handle did not budge. It wasn’t just locked, it was not moveable at all. “I swear to God I will call the police if you do not let me out this minute.” She frantically searched in her coat pockets and started to dig in her bag but did not turn up the device.
“I think you dropped that when you took your tumble down those stairs.” The voice was now even creepier, hollow almost like it came from a great distance away. “But you will not be needing it now anyway.”
She noticed the meter ticking away in the dash. The numbers were not counting up, they were counting down.
“I see you noticed finally,” he said. “Looks like we are almost there.” The numbers ticked down a few more.
“What is going on here?” Abagail was starting to feel cold, her hands almost numb.
“Surely you have figured it out by now.” The cab driver switched on the radio that normally connected him to dispatch to get his next fair, but this was not the cab company’s radio, it was a police scanner.
“Female, 35, pronounced dead at the scene.” It was the same voice she had heard in her nightmare. She heard the dispatcher say a string of code that meant nothing to her when the man came back on the line. “Neighbor’s identified her as Abigail Johnson.”
“You understanding now?” The driver had removed his sunglasses and Abagail gasped as the meter ran down to zero.