The Hitchhiker Essay Research Paper Id watch — страница 2

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this road. I didn?t have a chance to get off as you came past. I?m terribly sorry to have given you a fright.? Jenny was bewildered. What was an old woman doing on a road in the middle of nowhere? ?Oh dear, I am so sorry to have startled you like that. My mind just wandered off,? Jenny babbled, ?and I wasn?t paying attention to the road, the radio was on, and then I saw?? ?It?s all right love. I understand. Would it be too much trouble to get a lift with you?? ?Uh?Um? yes, sure,? Jenny regained herself. ?Of course, anything I can do. Hop in.? They got in and Jenny carefully manoeuvred the ute back into the right lane and pushed the accelerator down. ?Nice ute you got here.? Grumbled the lady, with her head resting on the tilted headrest. ?Thank you. It?s pretty old though.? ?Ah

well, those V8 engines got power in ?em however old they may be, that?s for sure.? The lady commented. She crossed her legs slowly, her rather large, black shoes knocking against one another. What a strange ensemble, Jenny thought to herself. Out of the corner of her eye she observed the woman?s thick black stockings, bright red blouse and hefty burgundy handbag. ?I just returned from a visit to my grandmother. Have you ever heard of McClear property? It used to be a huge working station in her day.? Jenny smiled at the old lady, who returned her friendliness. ?Oh, isn?t that kind of you. I can?t say that I have heard of the area though.? ?It?s lovely, I assure you.? Jenny remarked. ?So what were you doing out here,? she inquired politely after an uncomfortable silence, ?I mean,

with no car or anything?? ?Oh well, you know? I like walking.? The old woman hesitated. ?Would you care for a toffee?? ?Toffee? Yes please, they remind me of my childhood days.? Jenny chortled. The woman reached into her handbag and rummaged around. Her hand emerged with a neat little lolly. ?Here you go.? She said, as she placed the toffee in Jenny?s outstretched palm. ?Thank you very?? Jenny stifled a gasp as she noticed the woman?s hand. Covered with thick, black hair and riddled with fresh abraisions, this was not the wrinkled hand of an elderly lady. Jenny gagged as her gaze moved up the stranger?s arm. The sinewy flesh was caked with dirt and filthy hair. In a state of severe panic, Jenny forced her mind to come up with a solution. All of a sudden, the ute veered of the

road, and into a shallow ditch. ?Crap!? Jenny said in a manner of mock frustration. ?I think I might have run over something? an animal.? She lied ?I just can?t think straight on the road these days. Oh, I can?t stand to see hurt animals. What if it?s a wombat? I can?t go and check? I just can?t?? ?Would you like me to go investigate?? offered the person. Jenny was no longer sure wether it was a woman. ?Please do! I just couldn?t bring myself to go outside.? The minute the stranger had closed the door behind them, Jenny put her foot down on the accelerator as hard as she could. The ute stalled. ?Help!? Jenny whimpered as she struggled to stay calm. Her head throbbing with concentration, she turned the key in the ignition and put the ute into first gear. She was away!  ?Hello??

Jenny answered her mobile phone in a shaky voice. ?Jenny? It?s me.? ?Grandma! Thank goodness it?s you!? ?Yes, well I was only calling to tell you to watch out.? ?Grandma, we?ve already talked about this?? ?There is a mass murderer who is on the loose. He is in the area and is dangerous?? The line went dead. Jenny looked at the phone?s screen, no reception. Figures, she thought. Her grandmother was always worrying about her, she knew she would be fine. Suddenly, a debilitating thought occurred to Jenny. She pulled the ute over and reached over to the passenger side. After fumbling about on the floor, she located the handbag of the hitchhiker she had abandoned. Anxiously, she tore it open. Glaring inside she saw exactly what she had been dreading. In the bag there lay a sharpened

knife, soaking handkerchief and shredded rubber gloves, all of which were encrusted with blood. The tools of a mass murderer.