13 Ghost Stories in 13 Days
Ride Scare
Mike still hadn’t told his friends and family back home that he was basically a taxi driver now. “A struggling writer,” he said whenever they asked what he was doing. “Still waiting for my big break.” Maybe he still believed it.
But the truth is, he’d been a freelance writer for so long and the anxiety of never knowing whether the publication that owed him money was going to be shut down by a vengeful oligarch before cutting his next check had become too much. He downloaded one of those apps. He started driving. He kind of enjoyed the work, if he was being honest. Only problem was he traded in his two-door pickup truck, the only vehicle he’d ever wanted, for a sensible Toyota sedan, because the app said he needed something with four doors. He joked that now at least he didn’t have to help his friends move, but he actually kind of liked doing that. It usually ended with free pizza.
He’d been driving for RideScare for a few weeks. The money was way better than the other drive-sharing services. Of course, the app took him to areas he didn’t always want to go.
Uber and Lyft and even the most desperate taxi services avoided Eastern State Penitentiary after a certain time on October nights. It was just too easy in those crazy times they lived in for some lunatic with a machete to pretend he was one of the characters in the haunted house and then chop an unsuspecting driver’s head off. But RideScare went there because it paid quadruple rate and Mike relaxed because he knew he’d make rent this month.
He idled outside the haunted prison-turned-America’s favorite haunted house and turned on the radio.
…a reminder that a madman is on the loose in Philadelphia. He has a hook for a hand, has killed several people, and was last seen walking toward —
He turned off the radio. This is the kind of news you didn’t need to know when you worked in the driving strangers around industry. The Temple frat boy who threw up all over the back of his Honda the night before was scary enough. He couldn’t worry about a madman. He did what the app said. If a madman got in the car, so be it. At least he’d die employed.
The door slid open and his fare climbed in. The guy was covered in blood and wore an eye patch. His left hand held an authentic-looking rusty ax. His right arm was tucked into a beat-up straitjacket, so Mike couldn’t tell whether it had a hook for a hand or not. Great, Mike thought, another weirdo performer from the haunted house.
“You work at that haunted prison?” he asked, easing his Toyota toward Kelly Drive.
No answer from the guy in the back. Great, Mike thought, a real method actor.
“You an actor?” Mike asked. “Anything I might have ever seen you in?”
No answer.
“I’m something of an artist myself,” he said. “Struggling writer, still looking for my big break. Hence the reason I am picking you up this late. You do what you gotta do, am I right?”
Nothing from the guy in the back.
Mike turned on the radio again.
“Any preference in station?”
The guy grunted.
“Monster mash maybe?” Mike said under his breath.
— AGAIN ANOTHER URGENT BULLETIN: THE MADMAN WITH A HOOK FOR A HAND IS STILL ON THE LOOSE IN PHILADELPHIA. HE KILLED SEVERAL ORPHANS THIS MORNING AND WAS LAST SEEN HEADING IN THE DIRECTION OF THE HAUNTED PRISON —
Mike turned down the radio.
“Gotta be tough to work in a costume like that with a madman on the loose,” Mike said, a little uneasily. “Cops probably asking you all sorts of questions.”
The fare began breathing heavily.
Mike eased his car off Kelly Drive and onto the highway. His fare fidgeted a little in his seat. Mike started driving faster. Maybe he was fooling himself, thinking he’d be satisfied in this line of work. He was editor in chief of his college paper, if you believe that. He interned at the New York Daily News. He wrote a couple of novels that he never let anyone see. How did it come to this?
He took his seat belt off, then pressed the button to lock all four doors of the car. He felt an existential crisis coming on and wanted to get this potential ax murderer out of his car as quickly as possible.
“Uh,” the fare said, suddenly sounding very human. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“Oh good,” Mike said, accelerating faster into oncoming traffic. “You still have vocal chords. Wasn’t sure you were capable of speech.”
“Hey man,” he said. “I was just messing around. I’m not an ax murder. I’m just an actor. This isn’t funny.”
Mike swerved just moments before a SEPTA bus came barreling down the east-bound lane of the highway. It wailed on its horn as his Toyota continued to fly the wrong way toward King of Prussia.
“Kind of weird for them to name that town after German ruler,” Mike said. “What did we fight all those war for?”
“Dude,” the guy said. “This isn’t funny.”
“Lot of angry ghosts in Valley Forge I’d imagine,” Mike said.
“Who the hell gave you a five-star Uber rating?” the fare said.
“Oh,” Mike said. “I’m not Uber.”
“Please,” the guy pleaded. “I was just messing around. My mom’s rich. I’ll pay double your fare. Just get in the correct lane. Please.”
“I can only go where the app tells me,” Mike sighed.
He accelerated into the darkness. The kid in the back was paralyzed by fear. When the app started vibrating, Mike turned the Toyota and drove full speed right into the side of a highway overpass.He kept the seat belt undone. He didn’t even brace for impact anymore. He knew what would happen.
“Ride or die,” Mike said, because he’d been looking for a catchphrase to spice up these moments. He didn’t think that one would stick though.
Moments later, Mike’s Toyota was back in perfect condition, cruising down Broad Street just below Roosevelt Blvd. The kid in the back seat was long gone. He didn’t know where they ended up or why he was being sent to grab them. He just did what the app told him to. His phone vibrated again. Another fare. One of the bars over by UPenn. Probably some Ivy League grad student. It was a long drive, but he didn’t really mind. He was happy to have the work.
The only rule of 13 Ghost Stories in 13 Days is that the story must be posted the same night I started it.
Previously on 13 Ghost Stories in 13 Days:
Day 1 The Ghost’s Girlfriend
Day 2 The Girl with the Puka Shell Necklace
Day 3 The Time I Went to the Old Church Later Than I Should Have
