Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 75, No. 2. Whole No. 436, February 11, 1980

Twilight by Sharon Johnson

© 1979 by Sharon Johnson.

This is the 542nd “first story” to be published by Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine... a playback...

The author, Sharon Johnson, was thirty-seven when she submitted her first story. She is “a wife, mother, homemaker, and part-time postal clerk.” Her hobbies include oil painting, reading, and crafts...

Silence.

But now the blood reverses its flow and begins to reenter his body through every gash and bruise. Splintered bone and torn muscle straighten and tighten. A tooth is re-implanted and a drooping ear is reunited with its root. The skull is restored to its original roundness. When all parts are in their proper place the wounds close. The terrible grinding begins as metal strains to weld. Now the eyes open and the head lifts slowly. The image of the oncoming driver’s widened eyes appears and awareness registers. Hands clutch at an unresponding wheel as reinflated tires squeal and two vehicles separate as they came together, at 70 miles per hour. Careening backward down the highway, he makes desperate attempts to apply the brakes, but his feet are powerless. Abruptly the car reverses its hindward plunge and he is thrown against the seat. Wildly he grabs for the wheel and it responds. He is able to decelerate.

Driving carefully now, his clothing wet with perspiration, he wonders what bad dream, what hallucinogen, has him in its power. His rear-view mirror reveals nothing but the receding image of a dark truck or van. The vague feeling that he is standing perfectly still and the road is passing beneath him like some giant conveyer belt persists, although his speedometer says otherwise. Weakly he considers stopping to rest, but the overriding urge to be rid of this place keeps him going. He looks for a gas station, for the reassuring presence of other human beings, where he can rest without fear.

Finally a station on the right-hand side of the road appears. He pulls in behind the car filling up. The attendant is finishing the windshield and making conversation with the driver: “Did you see the wreck south of town? You must have passed it coming in. A black van and a red station wagon. Yup, both drivers killed instantly. Didn’t know what hit ’em.”

Now the attendant is finished. He is putting his rag and cleaner back and going in to make change.

He is walking right through the hood of the red station wagon.