This Probably Didn't Happen

This story probably didn’t happen the way I'm telling it.  It was the end of a long day, I hadn’t been sleeping great, and I was over-caffeinated.  I easily could’ve misinterpreted the situation.  My mind was probably playing tricks on me as a result of stress.  I refused to think about it for a couple days after it happened, so by the time I did, I probably got the memory mixed up with something I’d dreamed or seen in a movie.  There’re a ton of good reasons not to trust my own story.  

I was driving to the other side of the state to visit my family.  I should’ve just waited until the next morning, but I didn’t want to take an extra day off work for the trip.  I refuse to waste more PTO on my dad’s hick relatives than I absolutely have to.  I left right after work on Friday.

The first leg of the trip was over the mountains, but it was still light out, so it was no big deal.  I listened to my Pantera mix and nursed an Arizona tea until I descended down into the desert.  Easy.

I cruised through a string of small desert towns during golden hour.  I stopped in the last one to top off the gas.  At the mini-mart, I grabbed an off-brand energy drink called Cervidae SCREAM. It had a cartoon of a ‘roided-out deer in camo fatigues and sunglasses on the label. My family out here probably buy it by the case.

It was important to get gas before the final leg of the trip: forty-five minutes on a quiet county road and then an hour on Highway 20.  It’s all flat road through the desert, but there’s virtually no civilization or cell reception until you reach the town my relatives live in.

I should’ve hit the highway right at sunset.  It was dusk when I felt the county road turn into gravel and realized I’d missed the turn.  I’m not sure how I could’ve zoned out at the interchange since it’s the only stop light for at least an hour.  

I was looking for a good spot to turn around when something enormous flew right out in front of my car.  I know how big an owl is; this was at least ten times bigger. My headlights only illuminated a bit of it, but it had the triangular silhouette of a plane or a bird in flight.  It moved in a rapid glide – that’s why I thought of an owl.  I shouted and swerved, briefly losing control of the car for a second.   Luckily there weren’t any trees out there to hit.  I managed to break and come to a stop on some scrub right off the road.  A spray of gravel rained down on the car.  I cut the ignition with shaky hands and caught my breath for a second.  

I decided it must’ve been some new kind of super-drone the BLM was using to monitor the area.  I started the car back up and had just gotten back onto the road when that thing shot out in front of me again.   This time, I was able to get a better look at it as it passed through the headlights.   It was leathery – or scaly – and I just got a peak of two glowing blue dots on the underside of it.   This time I managed to break without swerving and came to a hard stop right in the road.  

It was harder to catch my breath this time.  Were those blue dots eyes?  What kind of animal has neon blue eyes?  I thought of a giant bat, but bats don’t glide.  I rolled down the window and poured out the rest of my Cervidae SCREAM; the extra caffeine wasn’t helping my nerves. I needed to get the hell out of here.

I started driving back toward the highway really slowly.  I couldn’t stop scanning for that thing.  Things?  Was there more than one of them?  It was full-on night now, so I couldn’t see anything beyond the high beams, which only added to my anxiety.

I was so focused on the windshield that I didn’t notice something approaching my passenger side window until it was jogging right along side it.  I shouted and mashed on the brakes.  It took me a second to realize it was a person this time.  The fuck?  Why was somebody out here in the middle of nowhere at night?  She knocked on the window, and I rolled it down a little.  

“Oh, my God!  Hi!  Sorry for scaring you!  But thank God you’re out here!  My car broke down.  Can you give me a ride back to the highway?  I can buy you gas!”  She spoke really fast and bubbly.  From what I could make out, she looked harmless.  She didn’t seem to be on drugs or having some kind of psychotic episode.  She wasn't carrying a purse or wearing a coat she could hide a gun in. I’d heard stories about pretty girls flagging down cars while their scary boyfriends hide in the bushes, but it’d be hard for a large man to conceal himself behind a clump of sage or some thistles.  

“Uh…uh, sure, OK.”  I unlocked the door, and she hopped in.  She looked like one of those girls who does hippy-cosplay for Coachella. You know those kinda girls? Yeah, you know those kinda girls: long blonde hair with a single thin braid on the left side, nose stud, carefully manicured nails, loose paisley top and faded blue jeans, etc.  All her clothes looked expensive. She was really pretty, but I was too rattled to make any kind of move.  I threw the car in gear and headed back toward the highway. 

“Oh, my God.  Thank you so so much.  I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come by.”  She had a bit of a valley girl accent.  

“Yeah, no problem.  How’d you end up out here?”  

“Yeah, oh, my God.  I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere.”  Understandable.  “And then of course my car broke down right when I realized I wasn’t on the highway anymore.  What’s your name, by the way?”

“Connor.  What’s yours?”

“Clandestiny.  It’s so nice to meet you, Connor.  Are you from around here?”

“No, I’m on my way to visit some people.  What about you?”  

“Yeah, I’m from all over, really.  Army brat.  And now I’m taking some time to explore the west and really get in touch with myself.  There’re so many beautiful places and people out here.  It’s really good vibes.”  She sounded like a walking social media caption.   

“Wow, that’s cool.”  We drove in silence for  a few seconds.

“Hey, Connor.  What’s your zodiac?”

“Uh…Sagitarius, I think?”  

“Oh, my God.  Mine too!  What’s your birthday?”

“December 5th.”  

“Oh, my God!  I’m December 7th.” 

She prattled on about astrology and then started asking polite-conversation questions: where did I live, who was I going to visit, where did they live, what time were they expecting me, did I have any other family or friends in this area, etc.

She said she was training to be a "spiritual healer", and then asked some borderline-invasive questions about my health. Any chronic illnesses, etc.? I humored her and answered that I was completely healthy. Then she launched into a lecture about the evils of western medicine.

She asked about my car: was it mine, or was it a rental for the trip? Did I have a GPS security system (she was thinking about getting one)?

She asked if I had cell reception out here, and when I said I didn't, she put her hand on my forearm and playfully asked if she could see my phone to make sure. I concluded she must have smoked a bit in her car before setting out on foot. She asked a few more questions until I interrupted her because something had occurred to me.

“Hey – so – what’s your plan when we get back to the highway?  There’s not like an auto shop or a hotel there.  Where are you headed?”

This was the first time she didn’t immediately respond to a question.  She was quiet for a moment.  

“Oh, well… I’m sure I can catch a ride with a trucker or something.  People out here are so kind.”  She clearly hadn’t met my relatives.  

“But what are you gonna do about your car?”  If I were a real good Samaritan, I would’ve offered to drive her all the way back to the town where I’d stopped for gas.  But this detour had already added an extra hour to my trip, and I still had another hour to go once we reached the highway.  

“I’ll figure it out.”  She waved her hand dismissively.  “It’s not like anybody’s out there to steal it.”  This made me think of something else.

“Hey, did you see a really big bird when you were walking back there?”  

“What, like an owl?”

“Bigger than an owl.”  

“What’s bigger than an owl?”  

“A heron’s bigger.  But this wasn’t a heron.  This was like…a pteradactyl.”

“Oh, my God!  You’re funny.”  She touched my arm again and I pretended not to notice.  “But you know, there’s a lot we don’t know about the desert.  It’s a really spiritual place.  A lot of intense energies.  Native Americans considered these lands sacred because they could sense the powerful vibrations.  People can’t sense them today because their third eyes have been clouded by greed and microplastics.  You know, there’s a lot of documented UFO sightings out here, and that’s not a coincidence….”

I let my mind wander while she spewed on about aliens and pseudoscience.  Something was bothering me.  She’d said her car broke down right when she realized she wasn’t on the highway.  She must’ve realized it by the time the road turned to gravel, like I did.  So why hadn’t I seen her car?  It had still been light enough to see a long way ahead of me when I was about to turn around.  I would’ve noticed another car up ahead. 

“Hey –” I turned toward her to ask about it, but I stopped myself when I looked at her.  “Uh…are you feeling OK?”  She was…darker than before – not like her skin was darker, but like there was something dark underneath her skin showing.  I know that sounds insane.  There wasn’t much light in the car, but it was enough that I could tell something wasn’t right with her.  She blinked at my question.

“Uh…actually, yeah.  I’m feeling a little sick at my stomach.  Could you pull over for a second?”  I instinctively wanted to say no.  I had this feeling deep in my own stomach.  But I couldn’t refuse without sounding crazy, so I pulled over to the side of the road.  

I expected her to get out of the car to get some air, but instead she put her hand back on my arm.

“You seem like a really sweet guy.  I’m so lucky it was you who picked me up.”  Her hand felt cold and leathery, but I couldn’t pull away.  Her smile should’ve been seductive, but it was making the hairs on my arm stand up.  She lifted her top lip to reveal a bit of her teeth. I wanted to puke. Just as she was starting to lean in, we both startled at oncoming headlights.  I jerked my arm away.  

It was a big pickup truck with cop lights on top.  It stopped next to us. I rolled down my window.

“Car trouble?”  The burly cop hollered from the truck.  

“Yeah, actually.  But not this one.”  I jerked my thumb at Clandestiny.  “Her car broke down a few miles back.  I’m giving her a lift back to the highway.”  He killed his ignition and walked up to my window.  He gave Clandestiny a once-over and smiled big.  I glanced back at her.  She looked normal now.  It must’ve been a weird trick of the light before.

“Well, this is your lucky day.  I was heading down here to check for meth labs, and I’ve got a pair of jumper cables with your name on ‘em.  Hop on in.”  He winked at her and gave me a challenging look.  I nodded at him and tried not to look too relieved.  

Clandestiny just shrugged and exited the car without another word to me.  As she was walking around the front of his truck, she turned back and looked at me for just a second.  That smile was back.  I was still shaken up, and it was probably just a weird effect from the headlights. I'm sure her eyes didn't actually glow neon blue.

I sped off before she’d even gotten in the truck.  It was only another ten minutes to Highway 20, which I took in the opposite direction of my relatives.  The highway took me back over the mountains and spit me out in a college town about three hours away from the city I live in.  I got a hotel room and headed back home the next morning.  My dad called me early, freaking out and demanding to know where the hell I was.  I told him I was never going back to the desert and hung up.  

After two weeks, I’d mostly managed to forget about that night.  If only I hadn’t gone to that stupid dentist’s appointment.  There was nothing to read in the waiting room except yesterday’s newspaper.  None of the stories grabbed me until I saw something in the Statewide News section: Deputy Sheriff Dan Graves had been missing since the night that I’m definitely misremembering.  There were suspicions that he might’ve been murdered by people involved in the local meth trade.  There was a photo of him, but it was small, and I hadn’t gotten a very good look at the cop that night anyway.  That was enough reasonable doubt to get me through the rest of the day.

I Googled him that night, despite myself.  I ended up reading a story from the local paper in the town where I got gas.  There wasn’t really any new information, but a link to a related story at the bottom of the page caught my eye.  

Possible Sightings of Missing Nevada Woman Reported Around [Town Where I Got Gas]

Amy Poole of Paradise, NV went missing nearly two years ago on her way to the Coachella Valley Music Festival.  Her last confirmed sighting was at a gas station outside Blythe, CA.  Her car was later found on a dead-end road in the same area.  Foul play is suspected.

However, there have since been reported sightings of Poole near Death Valley, Elko, and recently two possible sightings in the [TWIGG] area.  One local resident who recognized Poole from a segment on Dateline reported seeing her outside the Days Inn on 1st.  Another, who had seen her story on the internet, reported a sighting at Big Bear Diner on Hwy 126.  Neither of these sightings has been confirmed.

If you see someone resembling Poole, please contact the Clark County PD at 555-555-5555.

The photo of Amy Poole was a lot bigger than the one of Dan Graves.  It’s so easy to mistake people for someone else. It happens all the time on crime shows.  People’s own parents are convinced someone in a photo is their missing kid, but then it turns out to be a doppelganger.  The person I gave a ride to that night could’ve been anybody.

I have a feeling there won’t be any more Amy sightings.  I wouldn't be surprised if there are some of Dan, though. Whatever happened that night, I'm grateful he found us. Otherwise, people might be reporting sightings of me.