My old satnav was so out of date that Richard, my husband, used to joke it couldn’t recognise any road built after the Romans left, but I rarely used it so it wasn’t a problem.
And then I bought a new car.
New car – new satnav. I hated it from the word go. Far from pleasant soothing female tones gently guiding me to my destination, Sadie – as I secretly named her – had a screechy, nagging tone with that irritating upward lilt so beloved of teenagers. I half expected her to end every sentence with, ‘Whatever.’ But the module came with the car and I couldn’t work out how to change the voice so finally, I switched it off altogether.
Everything was fine for a day or so, and then, one morning, I was nipping around the inner ring road in town when suddenly the screen lit up with an odd red glow and Sadie said, ‘In one hundred yards turn left.’
I was so surprised I very nearly obeyed but that would take me into the middle of the busy pedestrian precinct so I laughed and said, ‘Don’t be an idiot, Sadie.’
She didn’t like that.
‘In fifty yards turn left.’
‘Shut up, Sadie.’
She really didn’t like that. ‘In twenty yards turn left and kill them all.’
‘What?’
‘You have missed your turning.’
Somewhat shaken, I slowly pulled up for the zebra crossing and the old lady with her walker, and decided I’d imagined it.
Only I hadn’t. The screen turned red again. ‘Kill her.’
‘What did you say?’
‘She’s old. She’s had her life. She’s of no use to anyone. Mow her down. Do it now.’
And then, to my horror, the car started to inch forwards. I looked down. Handbrake on. Neutral gear. This shouldn’t – couldn’t – be happening but the car was creeping forwards.
I stamped hard on the brake and the old lady reached the pavement safely. I fumbled with the satnav but someone behind me beeped their horn so I pulled away, meaning to switch it off at the first opportunity.
I never had the chance. Just as I turned the corner past the little primary school the lollipop lady stepped out with her sign. I braked for a crocodile of five- and six-year-olds, all hand in hand, crossing the road in front of me.
‘Nasty things, kids,’ said Sadie. ‘Vermin. Run them all over. What are you waiting for? Christmas?
I’d had enough of this. Shouting, ‘Shut up Sadie,’ I yanked the whole satnav from its mounting, switched it off – as I thought – and threw it into the passenger well. ‘And stay there.’
And that, I thought, was the end of that.
I set off for home. Not a peep from the satnav from hell until suddenly, without any sort of warning, the engine roared. I felt the sudden acceleration. The wheel twisted in my hands. The satnav screen flickered red and black and I knew Sadie was back.
‘Kill them all,’ she was screeching, as the car mounted the pavement and headed for the half dozen tables filled with people enjoying a morning coffee in the sun. There were shrieks and shouts of surprise and anger. People scattered, knocking over tables and chairs.
I was screaming, ‘Get out of the way. I can’t stop,’ and struggling with the wheel. I even tried switching off the ignition and all the time the sound of Sadie laughing was cutting through my brain like cheese wire.
A great roaring filled the car. A thousand voices shouted, ‘Bring unto me the blood of my victims,’ while Sadie screamed words I’d never heard before.
I don’t know what was happening around me – all my efforts were concentrated on avoiding people. People running away. People on the ground. People frozen with fear. The engine was screaming. The tyres were screaming. I was practically standing on the brakes and the whole car was shuddering with the strain of it. I could smell burning rubber. What was this nightmare? What was happening?
And then I had a thought. Don’t fight it. Get the hell out of here. Drive into the river if you have to.
I put my foot down, swerving to avoid everything, fishtailing down the road. Because I had to get home. And out of this car. Before Sadie killed someone.
I was sobbing with shock and fright. ‘What the hell’s going on? What do you want from me?’
‘To direct you to your destination,’ said Sadie, her voice thick with satisfaction and again the screen flickered red and black. ‘At the end of the road turn right.’
Shaking and crying, I pulled into our drive and screeched to a halt. The garage door was open. I could see Richard taking something out of the freezer.
‘He’s having an affair with your friend Cheryl, you know,’ said Sadie and I could hear the poison in her voice. ‘They often talk of him leaving you. Neither of them likes you very much.’
‘Shut up,’ I shouted, pounding the wheel. ‘Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.’
‘You should kill him.’
‘No …’
Sadie’s voice rose to a scream, filling my head with rage and revenge. ‘Kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him …’
My head was exploding. This pain had to stop. I stamped down hard. The car surged forwards.
‘Kill him kill him kill him kill him …’.
The car crashed into the freezer. Richard screamed and disappeared. There was an explosion of bricks and timber as the car burst through the back wall and the garage collapsed around me. The engine stalled. Silence fell. In the distance I could hear shouting and sirens as the world tried to catch up with me.
I couldn’t get out. I was trapped in the rubble. Oh God, I couldn’t get out.
Red flickered. Sudden heat. Was the car on fire?
‘Help me. Someone help me.’
I struggled with the door. I pounded on the window. I screamed and screamed. ‘Let me out. Sadie. Please.’
The screen turned an ugly red. ‘Unable to comply.’
‘What? Why?’
The screen began to fade.
‘You have reached your destination.’
THE END
First published in the Daily Express Magazine.
Hahahahaha excellent! Thank you Jodi 💜
Spine-chilling!