Highway to Hell

The car smelled of cheap air freshener that barely masked the scent of gasoline and damp upholstery. Sitting in the driver’s seat, Bethany stared into the reflection in the tiny visor mirror, her expression a mix of confusion and disgust. A youthful face with heavily lined eyes and fake lashes stared back at her. Green eyeshadow glimmered awkwardly in the dim light coming through the window. Her reddish hair was tied into a neat bun, and a thin gold necklace with tiny hearts on each link glinted on her neck.

She dropped her hands to the wheel, her long, bright-pink acrylic nails nervously tapping against it. A clatter of cheap bracelets jingled on her other wrist with every movement. Blinking, she ran her tongue across her teeth, which felt unnaturally smooth and straight, and winced. “This is some kind of fucking dream,” flitted through her mind. At that moment, the radio crackled to life with the enthusiastic voice of a DJ:

“Hey-hey, it’s Ricky Jazz again!” (a rock-and-roll guitar riff played) “And back to our top story—there’s an asteroid heading this way, people are freaking out, but NASA insists it’s all fine. Personally, I say let it come! I’ll ask it to subscribe to our channel and maybe enjoy some real music! Up next: a classic! AC/DC’s Highway to Hell!”

— Yeah, Highway to Hell, just perfect, — Bethany muttered, but her voice came out unnaturally high-pitched and sharp. It only made her irritation worse. Her small hand lashed out to turn the volume knob, but her long nails scraped against the stereo’s plastic with a brittle crack. She winced at the sharp pain in her fingers, her frustration building. Those damn claws! The nails skittered across the knob like ice, refusing to grip properly.

Giving up with a huff, she reached for the pack of cigarettes on the passenger seat, bought just ten minutes earlier at a tiny roadside store. She fumbled to pull one out with what she called in her head these "damn pink shovels." Lighting it with the cheap lighter wasn’t any easier—the nails kept snagging on the metal. After several awkward clicks, she finally managed to get the cigarette lit.

The first inhale ended in a violent fit of coughing that doubled her over.

— Goddammit! — she gasped, gripping the steering wheel for support. Her lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, and each hacking cough made her chest, too heavy and too foreign, jiggle uncomfortably, reminding her of its unwelcome presence.

— Damn you! — she croaked, spitting out the bitter taste of smoke. Suddenly, the passenger door swung open, and a tall guy with short dark hair climbed in. He wore a worn-out T-shirt and jeans and smelled faintly of cheap aftershave. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the cigarette in her hand.

— You’re smoking?! — he exclaimed, slamming the door shut behind him.

Bethany raised her eyes to him, her irritation plainly written on her face.

— Of course I’m smoking. What, I’m not allowed? — she snapped, taking another drag and trying not to cough. But the cigarette was too harsh, the smoke scorching her lungs, and another coughing fit followed almost immediately.

— Bethany, you’ve never smoked before. Not once, — the guy said, frowning. — And you always said it was disgusting.

— Are you deaf or just stupid? I’ve told you a hundred times: I. Am. Not. Her, — she shot back sharply, locking eyes with him. And then her stomach churned violently. Whether it was the cigarette or the memory, she couldn’t tell.

That sickening moment played out in her mind again like a bad movie. Seconds ago, he—Jack Harper—had been sitting in his truck, figuring out the best way to cross the border with a stash of illegal drone chips. The sky outside had begun to lighten, and he’d grown accustomed to the smell of coffee from his thermos and the suffocating silence of the Arizona desert. Everything had been going smoothly. Then—an instant, deafening void. Reality itself seemed to pause.

When the world returned, he’d felt an unfamiliar tongue in his mouth, arms smooth and fragrant with some fruity lotion wrapped around his neck, pulling him close to a body that wasn’t his. Jack had panicked, trying to pull away, but his hands—adorned with delicate bracelets—had moved on their own, clutching the shoulders of the man in front of him. He felt the softness of foreign lips and the wet heat of a kiss.

He’d shoved the guy back, hard enough to send him sprawling, then stumbled away, nearly tripping over a root. His heart had raced like mad as he tried to catch his breath, staring at the confused man who was saying something Jack couldn’t process. Even now, the memory of those lips made his skin crawl. Clenching his teeth, he’d muttered something like, “Stay the hell away from me!” before bolting toward the nearest light in the distance, barely aware of where he was going.

Now, he was looking at that same guy sitting next to him in the car, struggling not to punch him square in the face. The guy reached out, placing a comforting hand on Bethany’s delicate shoulder. Jack flinched, swatting the hand away.

— Hey, calm down, — the guy said gently, clearly trying to defuse the tension. — You’re all wound up. Is it the asteroid? I get it, everyone’s freaking out, but—

— Dude, just back off, okay? — Jack snapped sarcastically, his voice betraying him again, sounding too shrill, almost pleading. — And don’t touch me, I mean it, — Jack pushed his hand away, nausea rising in his throat. The situation was becoming more absurd by the second.

The guy’s expression softened, but he pulled back, raising his hands as if surrendering.

— Okay, okay, relax, Beth. I was just trying to help, — he said, his tone cautious. — And why did you get into the driver’s seat? You’re terrified of driving, — he added, glancing back at her.

— Don’t talk bullshit, — Jack growled, jamming the key into the ignition. The starter groaned, and the engine sputtered to life. The guy’s eyes widened in panic.

— What are you doing?! — he yelled, fumbling for his seatbelt. — Beth, you’ve never driven before! You have no idea how to do this!

— Shut up, — Jack hissed, refusing to look at him and focusing on the dashboard. But a sliver of panic crept into his mind. Everything about the car felt both familiar and alien. His thin hands with their pink nails barely managed to grip the wheel, and the pedals under his feet looked like buttons on an alien spaceship.

“Come on, damn it. It’s just a car. You’ve driven a truck, for fuck’s sake!” he told himself. He grabbed the gear shift and yanked it, hoping it would move forward. Instead, it jammed with a dull thunk, refusing to budge.

— God, Beth, the clutch! You’re going to wreck the gearbox! — the guy shouted, clutching the door handle and staring at her in terror.

Jack froze, blinking furiously. The clutch? What the hell was that? His gaze dropped to his feet, encased in low-heeled shoes that felt unnaturally small. He realized that the clutch must be one of the pedals.

“Why is everything so goddamn complicated?!” Panic clawed at him, paralyzing his body. His fingers trembled on the wheel, his heart hammering as if someone had switched it into overdrive. He was furious at the sudden, inexplicable fear gripping him—a helplessness he hadn’t felt even in the most dangerous deals.

— Fucking hell, it’s just a car, — he muttered through clenched teeth, gripping the wheel harder.

He slammed his foot on the right pedal, hoping it was the gas. The engine roared angrily, but the car didn’t budge. Jack let out a sharp, high-pitched yelp that startled even himself. The sound echoed in the small cabin, like it had come from someone else—someone small and powerless.

His body went slack all at once. His hands trembled, gripping the edge of the wheel, his legs felt like jelly, and his breathing became shallow and erratic.

His chest heaved, the sound of his racing heart pounding in his ears. The world spun around him as if the car were about to tip over, even though it remained perfectly still. Cold sweat dripped down his back, soaking the thin fabric of the dress. His ribcage tightened, refusing to let him take a full breath.

— No… no, no, no… — he whispered, clutching at his neck as if the air had truly run out. Every muscle in his body felt like a stretched wire, aching with tension, but there was no way to release it. His chest felt like it was made of lead, dragging him down, amplifying the dizziness.

Jack shut his eyes, but that only made it worse—the darkness filled with his spiraling panic. His breaths became short and rapid, like a cornered animal’s. The fear surged anew, wiping away any semblance of control.

— Bethany? — The guy beside him suddenly shook her shoulder, pulling her out of the suffocating nightmare. His voice was full of concern. — Are you okay?! Breathe, for fuck’s sake!

Jack opened his eyes, hot tears streaming down his face. It was unbearable. He felt like a caged animal with no way out.

— I… — His voice broke, the words dissolving into a helpless sob. He hated himself for it. Hated the weakness, the fear.

The guy took his small hand in his larger one, and Jack flinched at the touch. It was too warm, too reassuring, as if there were some genuine connection between them. Jack yanked his hand away, though for a moment it felt like it had been glued to the other’s.

— To hell with you! — he shouted, wiping tears off the unfamiliar face with the palm of his hand before stepping out of the car. His body was still trembling, but the fresh air hit his face, forcing him to take a deep breath.

Jack stood with his legs apart, bracing himself against the ground, his hands clenched into fists as he stared at the darkening sky. Somewhere up there, beyond the clouds, a massive asteroid hurtled toward Earth, threatening to obliterate it. That was easier to accept than what was happening to him now.

“Goddammit, just let me wake up. Let this be some insane dream,” he pleaded silently. But the cold wind biting at his bare shoulders felt too real. The stupid dress flapped around his legs, leaving him feeling even more exposed.

What Jack didn’t know yet was that the asteroid wasn’t just threatening Earth’s destruction—it was already causing inexplicable phenomena. Scientists were scrambling to understand the anomalies spreading across the planet. No one had answers yet, but one thing was clear: about ten percent of the population had inexplicably swapped bodies. No warning, no logic, no way to reverse it.