Space Race
This story, based on a picture prompt, was highly commended in the Queenstown Writers Festival Open Short Story Competition 2024.
Space Race
Rudolph hesitated before handing over the keys. You’ll never make it, he said. There’s snow on the Lindis. Vanessa, watching from the back of the office, nodded in agreement. The two clients, given the way they were dressed, were surprisingly serious. They had an old-fashioned paper map, which they held between them, asking Rudolph to show them the road to the observatory at Mount John. The green man said very little, surveying the scene, walking menacingly around the room, peering out the windows. The blue man asked all the questions. Where is your leader? How does the key operate? What side of the road do you drive on here on your planet?
They were carrying bags overflowing with shopping—sheepskins, rolled up posters, scented candles, women’s clothing, a massive greenstone tiki. Rudolph had no idea who the gifts were for. It seemed the men had no clothing of their own, just the tight-fitting fluorescent suits they were wearing and the ridiculous monstrous heads in matching colours. Rudolph assumed they were down for a stag do or a work party. He could smell no alcohol on their breath, didn’t know how to ask about other drugs.
Their paper work was in order, newly printed copies of up-to-date drivers’ licences, shiny credit cards that Vanessa put through smoothly with no need for further questions. Rudoph showed them the two cars available. They argued briefly over which vehicle to take, the blue one or the green one, then opted for the one with the most head room, and enough space in the back seat.
The office would be closing in less than an hour. The sun had set behind the hill, the street lights flickered on, a few stars shone faintly in the darkening sky between showers of snow. Rudolph reached inside the door, searching for his warm jacket, which he would need for his walk to the bus. He stopped to evaluate the two strange men. How far have you travelled? Rudolph enquired. The green man stared at him blankly. The blue man glanced upward, looked as if he was about to reply, shook his head. He asked Rudolph a few questions about himself, where he lived, how would he get home, were there any other humans at the house. No, said Rudolph, just a cat and a dog.
At first, the men appeared in no hurry to take their car, biding their time. Then suddenly the green figure slipped behind the counter and moved back towards the doorway dragging Vanessa beside him. She shuffled reluctantly forward, visibly trembling, the green man holding firmly onto her upper arm using his long thin fingers. The men nodded approvingly to each other. They bundled Rudolph and Vanessa into the back of the rental vehicle, the green man inserted the key as Rudolph had instructed, and shot out into the streets. Vanessa gripped the blue man by the shoulder, demanding to know what was happening. He pointed meaningfully towards the stars.
Rudolph spotted a policeman lining up to buy a burger, near the front of the queue. Rudolph and Vanessa gestured frantically. The policeman gave them a doubtful stare, then a friendly wave, as the car raced past. Very few other vehicles had ventured out onto the slippery road. Again following Rudolph’s advice, the driver kept left, too far to the left, perilously close to the line of parked cars. Rudolph had given no directions on what to do at roundabouts. The green man simply hurtled through, without reducing speed, requiring the other cars to stop and give way.
The two young humans, as they were, though they were no longer sure about the other two, whispered to each other. Vanessa found her phone. Phone home, Rudolph suggested. No, I’ll try 111, said Vanessa. The blue man spotted their movements, showed them he had a phone of his own, not a model they recognised. Vanessa’s phone didn’t work. How was that? A police patrol car pulled out to follow them, giving them some hope, but at the speed they were travelling couldn’t keep up, the flashing red and blue lights fading into the distance behind them.
The two men had the map spread out in front of them. They pointed to their intended destination, which they had marked with a big red cross, leaned forward across the dashboard and again looked up at the sky, ignoring what Rudolph had said earlier about the road. Rudolph and Vanessa screamed as they sped up to a stop sign, obscured by a drift of snow. Too late, the driver looked ahead, saw the intersection, swerved onto the main road, but didn’t slow down. A colossal freight truck, unable to stop, appeared out of the gloom, ploughed on towards them, its massive grille about to swallow them.