Strains of late-night radio station techno played softly as Evan drove along the highway, twenty minutes from home. There were few other cars on the road; he could not help but feel a certain solidarity whenever one showed up, that brief kinship ending when said car would continue out of sight.
He had spent the day helping Jack and Shirley move into their new house. The couple had more possessions than he had imagined, and although there had been other people pitching in, it had taken the whole afternoon and part of the night to get them settled in. They had provided pizza and beer afterwards, and although some who had helped had left right after dinner, he had stayed behind with other friends to hang out.
The company had whiled away the time until well past midnight.
Jack and Shirley had invited him to sleep in their guest room, but he had turned down the offer, confident in his ability to drive home after only two beers, their effects on him diluted by the greasy pizza, and always preferring to sleep in his own bed when possible.
This route was not one that he could remember taking before, but his phone's GPS has selected it for him.
The stretch of highway he was currently on was hemmed in on both sides by woods, the trees tall and gnarled, no signs of wildlife anywhere. The scarcity of other drivers and the late-night stillness lent the area an eerie atmosphere, the surprisingly spaced-out lights not helping that matter, leaving pockets of space darker than he was comfortable with, one of which he was currently in.
Wait, what the hell is that?
His attention was drawn up ahead, to where a figure in white was walking along the side of the road.
He slowed and pulled up alongside it.
His mind went to urban legends he had heard of, telling of ghosts creeping along dark highways, vengeful spirits who sought to harm anyone who might cross their path.
But as he came up behind it, it crossed into one of the lit-up portions of the highway, giving him a better look at it.
At her.
The first indication that the figure was female was the wedding dress. The delicate material was torn here and there, and the hem was stained with dirt, but the dress practically glowed under the stark highway lighting.
The second indication that the figure was female was her figure, which was accentuated by the dress. He could not help but appreciate her wide hips and shapely ass, and as he nudged his car slightly ahead of her, his eyes took in her large breasts, the neckline of the dress showing off lush cleavage.
She did not notice him, even as he crept ahead of her. Her head was bowed, face hidden under a veil, and her shuffling gait meant that she was not moving very quickly. A bouquet of vibrantly red flowers was clutched in one hand, in the other a pair of white high-heeled shoes.
Looks too real to be a ghost.
He brought the car to a stop and opened the passenger seat window.
"Ma'am, are you alright?"
She did not answer, instead continuing along slowly.
"Ma'am?"
Still, she kept walking.
"Ma'am?!"
She stopped suddenly.
His heart beat a bit faster, and he thought back to those urban legends of highway-walking ghosts.
She slowly looked over to him. In the several seconds it took her to do so, he contemplated driving off.
But the halting sobs he could hear coming from underneath the veil led him to decide to at least check if she was alright.
If she's a ghost, maybe she won't hurt me because I'm being nice and checking on her. And if she isn't, then I'm helping someone out.
Finally, her gaze was fully on him.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She shuffled over to the window and leaned over. His eyes almost flickered to her cleavage, on display before him, but he managed to restrain himself.
"Do you need help?"
She flipped her veil back, letting it settle on her hair, the dark brown done up in a complicated combination of braids.
Definitely looks too real to be a ghost.
This mystery bride was pale, but not unnaturally so. Her eye makeup was ruined by tears, with black tracks running down both cheeks. Even with that ruination, he could see that she was quite pretty, with a round face, full lips, and pleasantly blue eyes.
But those pretty features were drawn in an expression of anguish.
Good thing I stopped and checked on her.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" he asked again.
She sniffled, and then shook her head.
"No," she said quietly, her voice thin and fraught.
He hesitated.
Probably shouldn't ask about the dress or anything. Looks like it did not go well.
"Do you...do you need a ride somewhere?"
She glanced down the road in the direction she had come from, and then at him.
"Maybe."
"Well, get in then. I can take you wherever you need to go."
She glanced now at the stretch of highway ahead of them, and then back at him.
"I probably shouldn't get into a car with a strange man."
"That's smart. But would you rather keep walking around out here? It's dark, and who knows what could happen to you. There aren't many cars out right now, and I don't think there're many Uber drivers willing to come out here, so you don't really have many options."
She nodded, her anguished expression settling slightly into a more neutral one.
"You're right, I guess."
There was still a definite caution in her posture and demeanor as she looked back down the road and then ahead again.
"I'm Evan," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.
She shifted the flowers and the shoes to one hand and shook his daintily. Like her face, her hand was pale, but it was also cold, not unnaturally so but enough to be noticeable.
"I'm Annie," she said softly, "nice to meet you."
"Hi, Annie. Can I give you a ride somewhere?"
She took a few seconds to think, during which he gave in and glanced quickly at her cleavage, the swells of her breasts just as pale as the amount of her he had already seen.
"Okay," she finally replied, opening the door.
As she hiked up her dress to get in, he saw her feet, their skin caked with dirt. Inwardly, he cringed at the mess she would inevitably leave on the floor mat, but then he scolded himself for that self-centered reaction, especially in the face of her anguish.
He noticed a shiver run over her, and despite his brief fear that his hand would pass through her and she would be revealed as a ghost, he reached out to touch her shoulder.
His hand met solid flesh through the wedding dress.
That flesh was cold, and another shiver ran over her as she regarded his hand with a neutral expression.
He grabbed his jacket off the back of the passenger seat.
"You must be freezing. Put this on."
"Thank you," she said, smiling gratefully.
The smile highlighted her pretty features, and he snuck a good look at her face as she put the flowers and high heels in her lap so she could put on his jacket.
"Seat belt," he told her pointedly.
She nodded, as if remembering that such a thing existed, and then reached back for the shoulder-strap belt.
Her breasts were pushed out by the movement, his eyes drawn there mindlessly. Another shiver made them ripple, and he turned on the heat.
Once the click of the seat belt sounded, he drove off.
"Thank you," Annie said quietly after a few seconds of near silence, the techno music still playing faintly. "No one has stopped for me before."
"You're very welcome. I guess some people just can't be bothered."
