Riders on the storm (English version), Page 2

a night!" he thought.

  He got into gear, gently hit the gas and released the clutch in small jerks. The Ford began to move again.

  The vehicle had taken a good speed when another scene like the previous one appeared to William.

  Instinctively, the young man slowed down again.

  Prey to doubt, he moved his Ford to the roadside, next to some maples that lined the blacktop. He turned the engine off.

  He began to rub his eyes tightly. Striving to see better, he convinced himself that it couldn’t be because he was sleepy. Still he couldn’t understand that strange feeling. He felt like he had imagined everything, maybe because of that anguish that had fallen over him during the trip. And maybe it was really so.

  He didn’t even hear anymore the music that kept coming out of the stereo. He was beginning to sweat again, although it was cold outside and the heating of the Ford was not full on.

  He tried to convince himself that it had been a delusion.

  He was inclined to wait until the end of the storm to start moving again.

  However, he immediately dismissed that intention, as he realized that, if it began to snow seriously, he would get stuck for sure.

  He restarted the engine, making the Ford move again. After all he was just a few miles from home.

  The car started down the road at a moderate speed. Nothing happened. No apparition.

  William took courage and calmed down, starting to accelerate and making the vehicle take on an increasingly faster pace.

  His sense of anxiety began to fade. He tried to complete the calming job by starting to sing along on the notes of The Doors.

  Yes, now it was fine. Everything seemed to be behind him. Maybe it was. And he couldn’t wait to go home and lie down. With a beer in hand, maybe.

  But he was proved wrong, because, after a few moments, at the beginning of yet another short straight line, a lightning lit up the scene, almost as if it had hit the ground in front of the Ford.

  In that very moment, a shadow appeared in the middle of the road, on a collision course with the vehicle, a few dozen yards from it.

  Although dazzled, William saw it at the last moment, motionless as if waiting for the impact. He immediately swerved, shouting, "Christ, nooooo!"

  The wheels, following the abrupt change of direction, slid on the slippery blacktop.

  The Ford managed to avoid the impact with the mysterious figure, but not to straighten its course. It ended up off the road, slamming hard against a couple of trees, and ending its run several yards further down, in a ditch with steep banks.

  It all had happened within seconds.

  William had violently slammed his head against the windshield, breaking it and ending up out of the cockpit.

  His lifeless body was lying at the bottom of the valley below, in the middle of the wet soil, leaves and stones accumulated in the depression.

  The rain kept falling, merciless and relentless.

  William’s body was shaken only by some slight shudder.

  But he was almost a goner, with no one that could help him. That road was not very travelled. Even less in those days of bad weather. The silence of nature was broken only by the distant sound of thunder and the rhythmic patter of the rain.

  William, without fully realizing it, in his state of semi-consciousness, heard the sound of approaching steps.

  Thump... thump... thump... thump... thump... thump...

  One after another, one after another.

  Until he didn’t hear them any longer.

  He felt the sensation that whatever had been approaching was now close.

  A slight gasp and a strange smell confirmed his impression.

  His head reduced to a mask of bleeding wounds, his ribs broken and cracked, his organs swollen and damaged, William felt the sensation of someone who is about to leave this dirty world.

  He could not move or make any sound.

  He wanted to ask to that shadow, "Who are you?", but from his ripped mouth only an incomprehensible gurgling came.

  He tried to open his eyes, barely succeeding with the left one.

  Through the streams of blood and rainwater that obscured his sight, he managed to catch a glimpse of the shape of a man.

  He thought he was wearing a raincoat, open.

  His head seemed uncovered, but he could not make out other details.

  Meanwhile, the slight pant of the man slowly turned into a sound that, after a few seconds, William recognized as that of a soft, mocking laughter.

  Little by little, life was abandoning his body.

  His vital signs were slowly fading.

  While aware of the absurd situation and the futility of any intention, William tried again to make a sound.

  He tried to shout, "Help!", but just a faint breath came out of his mouth. Meanwhile, the soft laughter of the man had become louder.

  William seemed to hear musical notes spreading in the air.

  Yes, they seemed those of Riders on the storm.

  Jim was singing "... There's a killer on the road / His brain is squirmin' like a toad / Take a long

  holiday / Let your children play / If you give this man a ride / Sweet family will die / Killer on the road..."

  It was over. Inevitably over.

  William realized it then, in those tragic moments.

  All that was left to him was recommending his soul to God. Or the Devil. But at that point it did not matter.

  He closed his only open eye, abandoning every thought and hope, so that Madame Death could take him away.

  A few seconds later, in that place only his body, now soaked, lay. A little higher, the wreck of his car. In the soil near the body there were two deep footprints, now indistinguishable and partially cancelled by the rain that won’t stop pounding on the rotten leaves carpeting the rugged terrain.

  In the distance, a flash of lightning tore the deep darkness of the sky, while the notes of a famous song by The Doors hovered in the air.

  1 The Doors Riders on the Storm, LA Woman, 1970

  2 The Doors Riders on the Storm, LA Woman, 1970