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If you had any sense, you would have rolled back by now, instead of sitting in silence with a man you know would gladly kill you. The position is awkward, and you can feel the shaking in your hands worsen with fatigue, every nerve a livewire waiting for any small sign of movement you'd need to defend yourself from. Waiting for his temper to spark again. And yet, you continue.
"You ever consider that stealing a car might be easier than convincing somebody to drive with a knife at their throat?" The driver breaks the tense silence, swallowing as your grip on the blade tightens.
"I cannot drive. Your car is useless to me." Without you. You don't say that part aloud, lest he realise how much your survival rests on his cooperation.
"So, what, if you had to kill me- were you just gonna run through the woods until you found a better solution?"
Your reply comes through gritted teeth. "Something like that." It's not like you can tell him how long you've already spent limping through the darkness.
He laughs far too loudly at that admission, almost slitting his own throat as you jerk the scalpel further away from him, seemingly as surprised as you are by the sudden mirth. He glances at the rearview mirror, grinning stupidly at your startled expression. Utterly infuriating. It might be more unsettling than the anger from earlier.
"Fucking incredible, you are. I'm gonna die to a serial killer who didn't even plan for the scenario where somebody doesn't just play along with their own murder."
"We are one and the same; you are just as bad as I am." You remind him. "Did you ever predict how this night would end?"
He smiles wider, and you realise you don't think you've seen him drop that grin yet. You have the feeling you'll be seeing a lot more of that. Lucky, lucky you. "Sure, got the sign from God and everything. Decided to risk it for a chance to hang out with my best buddy here."
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour."
"You ever hear about what type of snakes you can find in cars?" He pauses expectantly, unfortunately taking your refusal to participate as a prompt to continue. "Windshield vipers."
He laughs, either at his own joke or at your disapproval, and you can't decide which is worse. You prod him with the blade in retaliation, getting nothing more than a raised eyebrow in response as you sigh. It's going to be a long night.