It's the night of Friday the 13th. 3 young men walk through the back isle in a corner store, passing by the drinks.
"Did you call her", asks James.
"Yeah, no response", says Isaac.
Isaac picks up a couple cartons of eggs and walk to the cashier.
"Try again bro", says James.
"I already called her like 3-4 times. I'm gonna just wait till she calls back", says Isaac.
"Yeah, if she calls back."
Isaac gives the cashier the money and the two walk out the store.
Outside, there other friend Mark sits in the drivers seat, waiting for them to get in. They hop in the car and open the cartons of eggs. They roll down the windows of the car and drive to find a quiet road.
They pull down a side street in the suburbs. They begin to throw eggs at the houses on the streets. Lights shine through the windows as the people wake up all down the block.
Mark speeds off as James and Isaac continue to throw the rest of the eggs. He keeps driving till turning on a long road. Dim, barely any of the street lights work.
The boys breathe deep, their hearts racing. Isaac in the back seat rest his head straight back looking the the roof of the car. His phone buzzes. He rushes to see who's calling him. His girlfriend.
"Shit, she's calling me back right now bro!"
He answers the phone.
"Hello?"
Nothing. Only static.
"Yo where are we? It's dark as hell, I think I lost service on just now."
"I don't know bro, I was just tryna get off the street we were on before somebody called the police", says Mark.
Isaac hands up and tries to call his girl back. She answers after the phone rings.
"Please stop calling me tonight. I don't want to talk to you right now!"
"Babe, you just called me."
"What? No I didn't. Maybe it was one of your other girls."
Isaac's girl hangs up.
He stares at the phone confused. His phone rings again. His girls name comes up again. He picks up again.
Once again, only static.
As Isaac looks at his phone again, giant white lights shine through the back windshield.
A giant truck is right on Mark's bumper. It taps his car shaking it.
"Speed up!", says James.
Mark stomps on the gas pedal trying to create distance but is unable to. The streets lights get dimmer and dimmer. The truck keeps riding on their bumper. Mark's pedal is pressed all the way to the ground. The street is now pitch black.
The trucks lights disappear into thin air, leaving the boys puzzled.
Out of the darkness the headlights shine into a intersection, where you can only maeka left or right. Mark isn't ready to stop in time. He looks at the speedometer.
94 miles per hour.
His car slams into the guard rail from a large hill, crushing the car. The windshield is smashed. James flies through the windshield down the hill. Marks head is sloppily leaned against the steering wheel. Isaac is no where to be found, his seatbelt ripped out the seem. The only thing leff is his phone on the back seat.
It rings again, his girlfriends name pops up on the cracked screen.