Dire Straits

A flash fiction story by Brian Robinson.

Large droplets of unforgiving rain lashed against Anne-Marie’s windscreen causing her wipers to go into their customary flap. She had planned to have a relaxing drive home while thinking about the cut and thrust of her late evening meeting in Chichester. Instead, she found herself craning forward trying to look past the glare of the oncoming headlights. Whispered curses followed.

Suddenly, out of the blue, the figure of a man loomed large. She had to break hard to avoid him. Her whispered curses found new voice. He was wearing a high visibility jacket and waving what looked like red trade number plates. He’s not just trying to attract a lift she thought, he’s deliberately stopped me. The man came to the passenger window.

    “I could have bloody well killed you. I saw you only just in time,” Anne-Marie said.

    “I would have forgiven you,” the man said smiling. “I’m afraid there’s been a bad accident up ahead. I didn’t want you ploughing into it. I’m so sorry if I frightened you.”

    Anne-Marie mumbled something half-heartedly but still wasn’t at all happy about being flagged down like that.

    “I can’t get a signal on my phone,” the man said.

    “Are you trying to call the emergency services?”

    “Oh no, they’re already there. I’ve been trying to call someone to pick me up.”

    “I take it you’ve just delivered a car and you’re on your way home?”

    “You could say that. There’s a service station about three miles ahead, ideally, I’d like to get to that. I can show you how to get in front of the accident if you wouldn’t mind giving me a lift? I’d be really grateful, but please, don’t feel obligated. I realise it’s a big ask.”

Anne-Marie wasn’t in the habit of giving lifts to strangers, but the trade-plates, combined with his pleasant manner seemed to swing things. He’s harmless enough she thought.

    “I need to put these plates in the window before we move off. I hope you don’t mind,” the stranger said.

    “I do have insurance you know.”

    “Yes of course, but it’s company policy. I have to display the plates when accepting a lift from a member of the public. It’ll give us extra protection.” Anne-Marie wasn’t about to argue. She just wanted to get on.

    “Right, so if we do a quick U turn and take the first left that should get us on our way. Then, it’s just two more lefts and we’ll be back on the A27.”

    Anne-Marie switched on the radio. She wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation. Dire Straits were playing ‘Sultans of Swing’. A few minutes later, the music was interrupted by some traffic news. “I’ll find us another station,” the man said quickly.

    “No, please don’t, we might hear something about the accident.”

    “There has been a major accident on the A27 West of Arundel and the road is blocked in both directions. A car skidded into the path of an oncoming lorry and two men are believed to be dead. The lorry driver is uninjured. Another car plunged down a steep gulley but the driver has yet to be found. Police are appealing for witnesses and are asking the public to look out for this driver who may be injured.”

    The man sitting beside Anne-Marie made no comment. Is this the man the police are looking for she wondered? Was he somehow responsible for the accident and that’s why he left the scene? Best to play dumb. “Oh my goodness, how terrible, those poor men,” she said.

    They reached the A27 again in what seemed like no time at all. Traffic was queued back towards the accident, but fortunately, someone had the common sense to leave a gap so they were able to move out from their junction and continue their journey Eastbound.

    She noticed a helicopter searchlight shining erratically from above. “They’re probably searching for that missing man.”

    “What makes you think it was a man?” the stranger said. “It could just as easily be a woman?” Anne-Marie didn’t reply.

    “Okay, so the services are just ahead. You’ll need to pull right in to let me out. This really is so kind of you. Not everyone would be brave enough to pick up a complete stranger on a night like this.”

    Once she’d parked up the man got out then leaned in the door to thank her again. He turned and began to walk away reaching for his phone as he did so. “You’ve forgotten your number plates,” Anne-Marie shouted after him.

The man turned and came back to her car. “You keep them,” he said. “You never know, they might come in handy.”

“But I don’t want them,” she said. She put the car in first gear ready for a quick get-away. “You’re the man they’re looking for aren’t you? And I don’t believe you deliver cars either.”

    “You’re right Anne-Marie, I don’t deliver cars: I deliver people. Unfortunately, the world we live in is in dire straits. So I deliver good people to safety and bad people to hell.” She watched him as he walked away again and wondered if she should call the police straight away. She decided to wait and see who came to pick him up. She could then pass that information on.

Ten minutes later, a black Mercedes MPV pulled up next to the man. But as soon as he got in, the car seemed to melt into the ground and disappear. Anne-Marie blinked in disbelief. Two people from the service station rushed out, one scratching his head the other pointing to the spot where the MPV had once stood.


It was well after midnight by the time Anne-Marie pulled up outside her flat in Brighton. Alice, her partner, had waited up. “What’s that you’ve got? More junk I suppose,” Alice said looking at the number plates.

“They’re number plates. It’s a long story.”

“These aren’t number plates, they’re religious symbols, look.” Alice pointed to the first two letters. “This is Alpha and Omega, the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet. This refers to Jesus when he said ‘I am Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End’. The number three after that represents the Trinity. Then there is the number seven and what looks like a book. This is the book of the apocalypse with its seven seals.”

“How do you know this stuff?” Anne-Marie said.

“My Religious Education teacher was my first love. I used to hang on her every syllable.

Where did you get this from anyway? No, wait, before you say, let me tell you my news. There’s been a bad accident on the A27. I’ve been worried you might have been caught up in it. The police were chasing two men who were believed to be people traffickers. They befriend vulnerable young women and then force them into prostitution. Apparently, one of the men began shooting at the police so they had to pull right back. Then, out of nowhere, another car appeared on the scene and side-swiped the people traffickers swerving their car over to the other carriageway. It was then hit by an oncoming lorry and both men were killed instantaneously. The police didn’t say anything about the man in the other car.”

“How do you know it was a man? It might just as easily have been a woman,” Anne-Marie said.

Alpha & Omega: The Beginning & The End.

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