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She woke up to an aching pain in her neck and the hush of a car driving down smooth tar.
It can’t be earlier than midnight, she thought, squinting at the screen by the steering wheel. It read 1:34 am. She shivered, and let her drowsy eyes wander towards the person driving.
They were tall, with a sort of androgynous figure that made her struggle to describe anything else about them. In the scarce illumination they wore what could only be described as utterly unremarkable attire, save for the barely visable gleam of a badge on their chest.
“You’ve woken up, I see.” The voice was deep, but feminine by all accounts.
She said nothing, confused and hazy with lingering exhaustion.
“Hmmph. Not much of a talker,” they muttered, “Oh well.”
They fell into a bizarre silence.
She wasn’t immediately concerned. The highway was as dark as it always was, though she wasn’t quite sure she knew in any case. They passed only a few streetlights - the sort found in the more rural parts of the world, dull and very occasional. Apart from that, she could barely see a thing.
The car seats weren’t uncomfortable, not particularly alarming in any way if she didn’t touch them with her bare hands. Running an index finger along the material - leather, maybe? - she felt a slightly oily substance. Like the sweat on a humid day spent in traffic, unnoticeable until you have to pry and peel off every inch of skin touching the vehicle. She felt like she was about to melt into it, muscle and bone nothing more than an amalgamation. It made her flesh crawl.
She sat up straight, and opened her mouth for the first time that night.
“How long until we get there?” she asked the driver.
It wasn’t that it was a strange question, just in context. She found herself wondering why she wasn’t demanding answers; a location; or at least a purpose.
They shrugged, keeping their eyes on the road. “We probably never will.”
She nodded, and leaned back once more to stare out at the swallowing blackness of her surroundings. The night seemed to call to her, seemed to envelope them and the car and eat the noises that dared to disturb the quiet. If she were to set aside the small jolts she felt when the road was less than perfect, she would be half convinced this was somewhere between a fever dream and a stringless thought. How couldn’t it be? She’d always adored journeys - the gentle rumble of the motor, the special clink of a glass bottle or beer can as it rolled softly in a sort of dance in the passenger footwell. It was her lullaby. Her childhood beaches and homes.
The corners of her mouth tilted upward slightly, and she found herself unnervingly at ease.
“What is your name?” She asked.
They seemed to chew on the question for a moment. “Tuesday.”
“That’s not your name.”
She could hear the smile in their voice. “You’re right.”
“Why are you lying?” But she sort of knew the answer.
“Is it lying if I don’t know the answer? If you ask me, Tuesday is a good placeholder.”
She was silent at that. “Did you forget it?”
“Mm? Oh, yes I think I did. What’s your name?”
“It’s... oh.” She didn’t have an answer. It wasn’t quite lost to her, it was just... on the tip of her tongue. If she could just- no. It was a lost cause.
“Yeah.”
And the drive continued.
“What is your favorite color?” She asked after a few moments. Or days. She wasn’t really sure.
“How many options do I have?” They replied, stretching their arms out for a second.
“Uhm...” She should be concerned, shouldn’t she? The only color seemed to be that warm, all encompassing-
“Black.” they said, loud and clear.
She continued to stare out the window at that, eventually sloping her back to kick up a foot on the dashboard, lingering in that beautiful limbo between slumber and consciousness.
Their small refuge smelled faintly of wood polish and something... artificial. It reminded her of the dusty white walls of... well, someplace in her past. Either way, it was oddly calming.
“Will it always just be me? And you?” She mumbled.
“Maybe until Spiky over there wakes up.”
It was only then that she turned around, and noticed a sleeping figure, blanketed in darkness. He was so desperately quiet. She didn’t even think he was breathing.
But then again, neither was she.
The time still read 1:34 am. Constant, unchanged.
She drifted off to sleep again.