A pair of bright, yet unusually orange, headlights.

I am thinking about everything I have heard about the wilderness of this country. I have heard stories and tall tales about Bigfoot, the Chupacabra, Will-o-Wisps, and UFO's. I can say that what I'm seeing right now lies in the last thing I mentioned. But in fact, I haven't seen or heard pairs of lights, orange lights for that matter, hovering back and front through a forest's treeline before. It could be a pair of lights from a car, since the roads hear twist and turn through the forest, as if the roads and nature itself is battling for the territory around here.

The pair of orange lights seem to be traveling from east to west, right in front me. Since I'm heading north, it could probably meet me if I would run with all my heart out towards whatever lies before me. The person with the large knife behind me isn't giving me any choice to live, so I run with whatever my body can give me directly north through living trees and open spaces.

I run for what seemed like two minutes when I meet a steep incline. The pair of lights seem to get closer but they are sure traveling slow though. I can barely see anything from down here so I might as well climb up this slope. The slope itself is like the other slope, moist but not slippery, and giving me some friction to get up. The slope isn't at all that bad but once I get to the top, where I meet with another guardrail, I am exhausted. I use up the remaining energy to straddle the guardrail and slump my self over onto the side of the road. I look up and see the pair of orange lights gun me down. I turn my head to the right and see in between the wood pylons holding up the guardrail, the person chasing me. He seems to have no problem ascending the slope, putting his knife in his mouth so that he can use both of his hands to climb up. This last sign send a signal to my adrenaline glands to start pumping what adrenaline I have left into my blood vessels to get me off of my chest and onto my feet. I then start the need to start jogging or running towards the pair of orange lights, which, if observed right, look like a pair of headlights of a car since they are space evenly apart like headlights should be.

With a last attempt to alert the passing car to my presence I jump up in the air with both my arms flailing around above me. Indeed, I look silly but it did make the difference between life and ****. The pair of headlights, when coming into view, are connected to a large, truck, a Cadillac Escalade having a bright, candy-orange paintjob with a complex vinyl pattern on the side. Details aside, the truck slows down, since the headlights are in high beam mode, to a stop with me beside it. The driver's side window lowers, revealing a young woman, about 20, with dirty blonde hair, saying, "Is something wrong?"

Even though I think in my head that saying something that a person is chasing after me and out to get me is so funny and unbelievable in someone else's ears, I say it as a last resort. "Someone is chasing me, can you give me a lift?" I say but in a high-pitched, voice, something like a young girl's voice. I probably am so out of breath that my speech has become high-pitched and somewhat squeaky.

The woman driving in the truck can only stare in amazement at my demand. I can only look at her, staring with my mouth open in exhaustion, about to wait for a response, most likely a ridiculous one. The woman almost get to the point when she is about to laugh, but she prevents it when she sees a person dressed in black come up from behind me, knife in hand, and put me in a **** hold. My instincts kick in and my arms quickly try to pry my attacker's hands off from my neck. He sure has a good hold on me but he is not **** me. He must be trying to have it done quick but in the messy way.

I then hear an apparent car door opening but I can't see it when my attacker turns me so that I'm facing the dark forest. My attacker seems too preoccupied in trying to take me out and he doesn't see his downfall behind him. The woman seems to have grabbed something solid and hard enough to incapacitate my attacker and get him off me. I hear a thud and the movements and the pressure that my attacker has over me decreases. I find that I can push him off me without him pushing back. His knife does get too close though and the sharp tip of it nips my cheek a bit, leaving a slow-bleeding cut measuring about a half to a full inch.

As my attacker falls, no more movement can be seen as his limp body lays on the side of the road. I fall to my knees due to exhaustion from running and prying the guy off me. The woman seems to be believing about my "can I have a lift" question. She goes to my side and asks me a question.

"Are you okay?" she asks me. She places her right hand on my shoulder, which the stitching on the track jacket seems to have torn, revealing a black sleeve underneath. When she places her hand on my shoulder, I look up to see her face only to have it shadowed by the darkness. I do hear her question very well though.

"Yes, thank you," I say to her.

"Here, let me help you up," she says and she offers and hand as leverage to help me up from my squatting position. When I'm on my feet she leads me, hand on my forearm to the passenger side door of her candy-colored truck. She opens it and I get in, immediately feeling the soft yet rigid leather seat. I close the door as the woman jobs around the front, the orange lights upon her clothes and blonde hair, and to the driver's side door. She opens the door and quickly gets in. She closes it and releases the parking brake of the truck and speeds off, not letting my attacker get any chance in getting me.

She does drive fast for a girl in an Escalade. She does know how to drive as well. So well in fact, in the next turn, I pass out from my head being light. I pass out before the woman passes by my car, bullet holes and everything.