06 Jan Have You Seen Them? The Construction Workers?

Have you seen them? The construction workers?

Have you seen them? Working on the roads at night… Always busy. But it’s never clear just what they’re working on.

I’ve seen them.

And I know that they’ve seen me.

I am a little drunk right now. So forgive me if this all isn’t the most coherent. I’m hoping the alcohol will help calm my nerves enough so I can sleep, even if just for a little while. I don’t really get a lot of sleep in the first place. I never have. Ever since I was really young, I’ve always had the worst insomnia. I’ll lay in bed but my brain just won’t shut off. My thoughts race at a thousand miles per minute and I can’t make them stop. Questions, worries, self doubts, the list goes on. I’m an anxious man by nature. The calm that one needs to drift off doesn’t come easily to me and sleep only comes quickly when well and truly exhausted. Sometimes I’ll go on my phone but that really doesn’t help. I just stay up browsing all night. Sometimes I’ll get up and play a video game or something. But really that’s no better than spending the night on my phone. So lately… I’ve been driving.

I don’t know about you, but driving calms me down. It soothes my nerves. My mind doesn’t race or anything. I forget about the anxiety. I can just sit and focus on the road and whatever I’m listening to. A podcast, some music, whatever. Lately I’ve been listening to Creepypod. That Jon Grilz has a very calming voice.

I’ll go out on the road for a couple of hours and drive through the dark country roads. Sometimes I’ll pass through the nearby towns and take in the surreal beauty of them, quiet and abandoned in the early hours of the morning. If you’ve never seen it, you should. It’s something special. There’s something so serene about being the only one around in the dead of night… It makes my heart race and in a way, it makes my anxiety spike. But I love it.

Anyways, it was during those drives that I saw them.

I never put that much thought into the random construction workers I’d sometimes pass. I just slowed down and made a point not to hit them, like a decent human being. They’d go about their business, and I’d go about mine.

Nobody ever really thinks that hard about roadwork. It’s just sort of a little, annoying thing you deal with. If there’s a lot of traffic, it’s frustrating. But usually it’s just a mild annoyance at best. Sometimes, while passing their worksites, I’d catch a glimpse of the workers and briefly imagine myself living their lives. Scheduling my life around late night construction shifts. I’ve never really been one for manual labor. I don’t think I could do it, but I admire those who could. Most of the construction workers I’ve seen on my drives were just ordinary people, up past midnight fixing potholes.

Most of them.

Every now and again I’d see something different and I’m not entirely sure how to describe it.

See – While I was out on my late night drives, I’d sometimes pass ‘worksites’ that hadn’t been there during the day.

I know, I know. That doesn’t sound that weird when you say it out loud. A lot of roadwork gets done at night when there’s less traffic out and about. But stay with me here. I know the area I drive in pretty well. I’d know if they were doing roadwork in these areas during the day. They weren’t… And the roadwork they were doing at night… Well. I’m not entirely sure if I could call it roadwork. These ‘worksites’ had a setup like they were doing roadwork, with orange and black construction pylons keeping cars away from their worksites. But they didn’t really seem to be actually working on the road. I only ever caught a few glimpses of what they were doing, but in every instance that I saw them, there was always a car in the sectioned off part of the road, and they were always doing something to that. Does that even qualify as roadwork?

Then there were the workers themselves… If you’ve driven past a construction zone at night, you might’ve made eye contact with some random worker. If so, you’ll know that it’s a very surreal moment. Kinda uncomfortable. But I mean, you’re still just looking at a person.

Passing these guys though… Something just felt off about them.

They’d always, always be tall and skinny. As in, weirdly tall and skinny. They’d be dressed in baggy uniforms and their facial features never seemed quite right. Their hair looked like a badly done wig. Some of them were inexplicably wearing sunglasses and those that weren’t just had a sort of vacant look in their eyes. The weirdest part was how they’d all just sort of stop and look at me as I drove by. In unison, they’d just stop what they were doing and just stare… Eyes fixated on my car as I passed. As if they were waiting for me to leave.

The first few times I saw them, I never thought too much of it. I mean, you see weird looking people all the time. It’s not exactly unfathomable that some of them might work in construction. What they were doing was never really my business anyways. But as I started seeing them more and more over the next few months, those little ‘weird’ traits they had stood out to me more and more.

Like I said before, I never thought about it too much. If anything, it was just one of those funny things you see while driving at night and I never mentioned it to anybody. Why would I? Whatever they were doing, it wasn’t any of my concern. And I guess it was really never any of my concern now that I’m thinking about it… I don’t know. But I couldn’t leave well enough alone. Not after seeing what I saw.

I’m beating around the bush. I’m sorry. Putting it all into writing is hard. I’m overthinking every little detail. I’ll try and get to the point.

It was a few days ago and I was in the middle of another bout of insomnia, so I did what I’d always done. I went for a drive. I didn’t want to go too far from home, so I stayed in town for the most part, skirting along some more rural roads as I drove a familiar circuit I’d driven a thousand times before. I put on a podcast, and let myself relax. It was nice and soothing.

After about a half hour or so, I was skirting along one of the roads that separated the suburbs from the endless farmland that dominated the backroads and I saw the orange and black pylons up ahead. I cut my speed and moved into the other lane to give the construction a wide berth. As I passed the construction, I spotted a white pickup truck inside the pylons. This didn’t look like a work truck. It had way too many bumper stickers, most of them referencing God.

The truck was idling but I didn’t see any trace of the driver inside. Only several tall, pale figures working on the body of the truck and as I passed, they all turned to look at me, fixing me in wide, unblinking stares. I looked back at them only briefly as I slowly drove past.

On the ground a few feet away were about 4 or 5 other workers. They were standing around something I didn’t immediately get a good look at. Like their buddies, they all stared vacantly at me as well… And as I drove past, I caught a glimpse of just what it was they were standing over. And I almost stopped the car.

It was hard to see clearly between the figures, but I could’ve sworn that there was a man lying on the ground.

No… No, that’s not the right phrasing. That implies I have any doubts about what I saw.

I did see a man lying on the ground.

I saw him looking at me, his eyes locking with mine for a moment as I sat inside my car. I saw that he was terrified… That look… I don’t know how to describe it, really. It felt like it pierced my very soul and left me slightly sick to my stomach… I’ve never seen the face of a man who knew he was about to die before. I’ve never had someone beg me for help with just their eyes. But that night… I was sure that was exactly what I was looking at. And the longer I looked, the more I realized was off.

The man they stood over didn’t appear to have any legs. He was pale as a ghost.. And there were dark stains on the hands and uniforms of the workers. Stains that looked an awful lot like blood. I stared at them. I stared at the man… And they all stared right back at me. Silently warning me off.

I took the hint.

I hit the gas and sped away from the roadwork. Looking in my rearview mirror, I could see every tall, pale figure at the construction site still staring at me, as the darkness of the night consumed them again.

My mind was racing as I left the scene of the ‘roadwork’ behind. I tried to understand what I’d just seen but no answer really seemed satisfying. Maybe they’d been helping someone who got into an accident? But why were construction workers doing that? Why were they set up around his car like that? There’d been nothing else they’d seemed to be working on! I had so many questions and none of it made any sense. I tried to justify it in my mind but every logical explanation I came up with collapsed in on itself. Maybe it was just that my mind was tired. I wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe it would all make sense in the morning. Maybe…

After driving for a little while longer I eventually found my way back home, went up to my apartment, and collapsed into my bed. I wish I could say I slept soundly but I didn’t. Not even close.

Come morning, I was inclined to dismiss everything I’d seen the night before as some sort of bad dream, or exhaustion induced misunderstanding. I mean, realistically, what were the chances that there was anything suspicious going on out there? Probably zero, right? And yet I still couldn’t shake the memory of the man watching me from the ground as the workers surrounded him… I still couldn’t justify the fact that those workers looked to be covered in blood.

Perhaps it was just an accident… Perhaps… I don’t know. But if it were, wouldn’t there be some record of it?

When that idea crossed my mind, I had to look into it more. I scoured the local news looking for some reference to a car accident last night, but found nothing. That in and of itself shouldn’t have been too suspicious… Right? The news can’t cover every little fender bender…

What was I saying, this wasn’t a little fender bender! In a best case scenario that man had to have been at least injured! There’d been no other cars at the scene so he had to have crashed into something. A guard rail, or a sign post. Something! That was it… If he’d hit something on that road, there would be some sign of it, wouldn’t there? It hadn’t looked like his truck had hit anything when I’d passed him but… Well… It had also been dark and I hadn’t stuck around for long.

I still had some time before work started… I could drive down to get coffee and a donut, take that road and see what damage was done. It would alleviate all my fears! No problem!

So that’s exactly what I did.

I took a long route to pass by the spot where I’d seen the accident, and I expected to see pylons or even a police car. Judging by the time, the accident had only been about 6 hours ago. There probably wouldn’t be any trace of the truck or its driver, but I had little doubt I’d see what they’d hit. And yet as I drove down the highway, I saw nothing…

I’d never really stopped to closely study the signs and guard rails along that road before… Or more accurately, the lack of them. What few rails and signs I saw had no damage, and when I passed the area I’d seen the truck in, there was nothing there that it could’ve hit. Let’s say the driver had been drunk and he’d gone off the road… He would’ve ended up in a farmer’s field.

Perhaps he had, and those workers had carried him out? But wouldn’t there be some sign of it? Some evidence? I saw none. I passed that way a second time after getting my coffee to get out and take a closer look, on the off chance I could find more evidence. The golden glow of the rising sun didn’t offer the best light to investigate in, but as far as I could tell there was absolutely nothing… No signs that anything had gone off the road. No evidence of bloodstains. No chipped pieces of paint or signs of damage.

Nothing at all.

I almost wondered if I was in the wrong place and spent the next fifteen minutes walking up and down that stretch of highway looking for something. And yet there was still nothing…

After a while, I got back into my car and went home to start work.

As I meandered through my workday, my mind kept wandering back to that car accident from last night. Why did this matter to me? Why was I putting so much effort into this when really, it shouldn’t matter? Was it the look in that mans eyes… Why would that drive me?

I sat mindlessly at my laptop, replaying those precious few seconds I’d shared with him over and over again in my head as I’d driven past… Maybe it was that fear that I saw… A mortal fear that was hard to describe… But that was stupid, wasn’t it? This shouldn’t be bothering me! *Why was it bothering me*?!

When I had a moment, I scanned the news again. I looked for any announcements of recent deaths, and found nothing of note. Eventually, I gave myself two shots of expresso and shifted my focus back to my work… Or as much of my focus as I could spare at least. Then when my day ended, I had a microwaved dinner to cap off my day and played a video game until I got sleepy.

I woke up at around 1 in the morning. Usually, I wake up gradually. But this was different.

I don’t have a lot of nightmares and the ones I do have are pretty minor… The most recent one I can remember involved me putting too much soap in the sink while washing the dishes, and being terrified that my parents would find out. Don’t ask me why I thought this was so terrifying, I don’t know how to explain it… But the nightmare I’d just woken up from was far more vivid than any of the others.

In it, I was back in my car, coasting along that backroad and watching as the strange, tall construction workers stood over the man with the Jesus Truck. I watched as they tugged at his body… Not as if they were trying to help him up but as if they were trying to take him apart…

I’d looked into his eyes as I’d drove past, and both the man and the workers all stared at me. I got to see the terror in that mans eyes all over again… I got to see the mortal fear he felt, and it was intense enough that I felt it in my own heart too. I wanted to help him…

But the workers were staring at me… Eyes burning into me. Silently willing me away… Warning me with an unspoken threat should I get closer…

In my dream, I drove away… Just like I’d driven away the night before…

I’d woken up in a cold sweat. The knot in my stomach was anything but a dream… And though I tried to lay back down and rest, my brain was wide awake. I didn’t feel rested… I still felt exhausted. But after half an hour sleep wouldn’t come, and browsing on my phone quickly felt like a hollow distraction.

So I got up, got dressed and grabbed my keys to go on another drive… I passed by the spot where I’d seen the truck again, although there was still nothing there. No evidence of roadwork. I didn’t linger there for much longer.

I moved on.

I took a backroad that I knew would lead me to one of the small towns just outside the city I live in. I didn’t play a podcast this time. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a little while. I don’t know what I was expecting or hoping to accomplish. I just figured it would help. Perhaps it did… Perhaps it didn’t. I’m really not sure.

About roughly an hour into my drive, I noticed a flash of orange just down the highway.

Roadwork.

Even from a distance, I recognized the tall, lumbering forms of the workers. These were the men I’d seen before.

On instinct, I slowed my car down, pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine. My lights went dead and immersed me in darkness. I saw one of the workers look over in my direction, and for a moment I dreaded that they might stare at me, seeing me through the darkness… But they didn’t. They just went on with their business, seemingly none the wiser.

I felt like I was doing something wrong… At the very least I was doing something weird, spying on random construction workers. These probably weren’t even the same guys I’d seen the night before! I mean… They looked similar, but I had no proof! But I still figured that I’d watch them for twenty minutes or so before getting bored and driving off. I’d probably spook the hell out of them… But it would put those nagging voices in my mind at rest…

So I sat.

I waited.

And in time… I saw…

I watched as the workers set up something on the road. Just what… I couldn’t say. Some sort of strip, right across the highway though. It came out like a jack. Oddly enough, they didn’t seem to mark where it was. They just laid it out, then went back to the safety of their orange cones. I wondered if perhaps this was some sort of road treatment…

I never thought it would be anything dangerous. And yet when the next car came… I’ve seen a cars tires pop before. The sound is hard to forget, as is the smell of burning rubber. The second that car went over whatever they’d put in the road, the tires were shredded. I watched the car skid and struggle to brake before veering over to the side of the road. And as it did, I watched the workers approach it, carrying their pylons silently and dutifully…

Probably just to help him, right…?

But if so, why were a few of them picking up whatever they’d laid out across the road? Why did whatever they’d laid across the road look like it had spikes on it… I watched as the driver, a man in a warm looking sweater, with a matching scarf got out. He didn’t seem to notice the workers coming towards him at first, and while I considered getting out to check on him, my instincts told me to stay put.

The workers were almost on top of him when he finally noticed them, and when he did, I saw his eyes light up a little. He spoke to them warmly, almost like friends.

  “Hey! Sorry, something blew out my tires…”

And before he could say anymore, he trailed off. His eyes followed the pair of workers taking their road spikes off the road and I could see him piecing together what had just happened in his mind. His warmth immediately faded away and was replaced with rage… Then panic…

I heard him yelling at them: “What the hell is going on here? What’s your fucking problem?!”

They didn’t seem to care. They just kept drawing ever closer to him and when they started to grab him, he fought them, screaming and thrashing all the while. But there were too many of them… And only one of him…

He fought, but in the end it meant nothing.

In the end they dragged him to the ground and his screams of rage all too quickly became screams of pain.

I watched as they began to pull him apart… Not cut… They had no tools. All they had were their bare hands and they just… They pulled…

I heard the squish of flesh being ripped from flesh… The inhuman, throaty screams of a man being eviscerated while he was still alive. Then the choking gasps… The horrified sobs… The begging…

 *“S-stop… Please stop… W-why are you doing this! P-please!”*

Then the vomiting, as the horror of what was being done to him settled down upon him.

Within about ten minutes, all was silent…

The workers who had pried off parts of his body took them away, disappearing into the night with them like ants carrying pieces of their prey. I watched it all with a growing feeling of nausea in my stomach… And I knew that this was the hell the man I’d seen the other night had gone through.

They started on his car next, prying at the metal before ripping chunks of it off. Once again, with only their bare hands.

I didn’t stay long for that.

The spikes were off the road. I didn’t want to wait around for them to finish on his car in case they spotted me, and decided to make me the next victim… I wasn’t stupid enough to drive towards them. For all I knew, they’d seen me and had set up yet another spike trap up ahead.

Instead, the moment my engine came to life, I made a violent U turn and hit the gas, speeding away from the workers.

In my rearview mirror, I could see them all looking up at me as I fled.

I haven’t slept well ever since that night… I’ve barely slept at all.

I can’t unhear the screams… I can’t forget the sound of the flesh being ripped apart. Part of me doesn’t want to forget.

I saw a report on the news the other day. They found parts of several disassembled vehicles dumped in a nearby lake… Some of them even date back to the 1960s… There was even some video of the vehicles being pulled out… One of them looked like it used to be part of a white pickup truck… And it was even covered in decals and stickers praising Jesus. Hard to say for sure but… I can hazard a guess as to where it came from.

I haven’t left the house in a few days. I don’t think the workers go out in daylight but I don’t want to chance it. I know they’ve seen me at least twice now. I don’t know if they can find me. But I’ve seen a lot of construction on the street outside my window lately and it seems more active at night.