Ditch

The sound was maddeningly loud, blaring in his ears. The horn stopped when Kard raised his head. He found himself staring at an empty field from behind cracked glass. The windshield looked like a bowling ball tried to smash it way out of the car. There was even pieces of the red ball embedded in the cracks. Only the pieces looked too runny to be from a ball. A liquid ran down and stung his eyes. His forehead was bleeding.

He'd been driving down a stretch of road and looking at his map, when he'd looked up for what must have been the hundredth time, headlights barreled toward him. Time enough to swerve, he managed to miss the oncoming vehicle, and flew into a ditch. His seatbelt was not on, he noticed.

“Mister? Are you alright, mister?” It was a voice coming from somewhere. Not to the left, and not to the right. Where?

“I say, Mister. Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance?”

The rear view mirror revealed a sullen man in overalls. He stood in front of a beat up brown truck with its headlights on. Kard sensed fear coming from the man. Only it wasn't fear of him it was fear for him. Kard sent out his tendrils. “Come here, Mr. Overalls.” He commanded. He was met with some resistance, and the name of Prisoc came to him. “Mr. Prisoc, come here.”

Kard's tendrils broke through the few mental defenses the man had, and was soon feasting on Mr. Prisoc's life. It didn't take long, but the effort energized Kard. He gathered the map and collectibles from the front seat and floorboard. He got out of the car and looked about. He felt a presence, a prickling in the air.

He sent tendrils out in all directions to investigate. Someone's watching, he knew. His attempt to capture the watching mind's eye got nowhere, but when he did find the them, and he was sure he would, he would use them like that beautiful creature he'd had earlier.

“I may be going about this all wrong,” he thought to himself. “I could call for him.” He pondered this. He would call for the beautiful creature, if only he knew how. The children may be able to help. As if on cue, one of the photos he carried fell into the grass. Down on the ground, it stared up at him, asking to be picked up. He refused it, preferring it would learn a lesson. “You shouldn't fall where you are not likely to be picked up,” he scolded the photo. In a childish gesture, Kard marched to the truck. The keys were in it and the engine was still running. He placed his items on the seat and went back to the fallen photo. “Now, let that be a lesson to you. You can't be trusted by yourself. So, I'm going to have to take you with me.” And then it was settled.

He got in the truck headed for Timmy's house.