She glanced in the rearview mirror again, her eyes on the hilt of what she was certain was a bowie knife. She pictured the way he’d smiled, leering as she’d entered his truck. A smile on the top of a note paper. A smile of corpses. A smile from a driver who picked her up on the same road where two women had been killed.

Though she felt like she was doing something monumentally stupid… And it was that. Stupid. She also wasn’t an idiot. She knew when a coincidence became more than that.

She shivered as his hand trailed from her thigh.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said, stiffly. “You know… Maybe if you just let me off here, I can walk.”

“What? No, don’t be silly. All sorts of strange guys are out this time of night. A pretty little thing like you? It’s just five minutes that way. I’ve got you.” The easy, carefree tone had grown sort of strained now. The man was breathing a bit heavier, his eyes hooded beneath his cap as he stared at the road.

Ilse’s fingers pressed against her ring of keys, holding them tight, bunched up in her hand nearest the door. Her thigh felt slick and oily and gross from where his fingers had trailed. Maybe he was just being friendly? Maybe he was just a bit too touchy… Was it all in her head?

The man was whistling softly now, fiddling with the radio, turning the station to a crooning love ballad. It came crackling and low over the car’s janky speakers.

“There we go, that’s the right mood, yeah?” He chuckled a bit as the love song echoed in the cabin. A prickle spread along Ilse’s arms. She glanced toward the locked door again.

“Where you from—you never even told me your name,” he said, speaking a bit louder now. Instead of friendly and curious, it came across as demanding.

She shifted. “Ilse,” she said.

“Ilse. My ex was named Ilse, you know.” He let out a little shuddering breath accompanied by a wiggle of his thick shoulders against seat leather. “She had a mouth on her, I’ll tell you. A real, real pretty mouth. If you catch my drift…” He glanced at her, his eyes lingering on her lips. This time, he didn’t even try to look away, but instead met her gaze and winked.

“Hey,” he said suddenly. “I gotta take a leak. You can watch if you like.” He gave a grunting little laugh. “Just hang tight one sec, all right?” He pulled the truck sharply over to the side of the road, moving to a rest stop with a blacked out safety light. The truck trundled over asphalt and loose gravel, crunching in its path behind a low grove and against a metal rail blocking the rest stop from the rest of the road.

“What are you doing?” Ilse said, quickly.

“I gotta piss,” he replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Won’t take but a second. I never do. Sit tight, won’t you?”