A new chill passed throughout his body. This one making him shiver. His teeth soon began to chatter uncontrollably. The unearthly cold front wreaked his entire body. This one worse than before. He put his hands, one at a time, up the car heaters to warm up, but they did no justice. He tried raising his ki around his body to possibly thaw himself out. It did nothing. His jaw throbbed. Through his entire life, Gohan has never experienced teeth chattering cold. Yes, he wrote about it in his novels for effect, but he believed it was just something said to create the effect, the mood. Plus, he also always knew how to use ki to warm him up a bit. His father taught him that. Another chill swept across his shoulder blades. Gohan remembered the peculiar moment earlier at the car dealership: the fleeting shadow with no cloud or bird could have cast it, the deep coldness like a wind that stirred nothing else but him.
He glanced away from the road ahead of him, up at the deep sky, as if he might glimpse some pale shape passing through the darkness above.
["What pale shape, for God's sake?"]
"Cool it ,Gohan. Your scaring yourself...and now your talking to yourself too. Gosh, I'm losing it," Gohan said. He still looked up ahead into the night sky, still thinking that he might see something, something he couldn't explain, but... a pale figure of all things.
Suddenly realizing the sheer silence, Gohan reached his hand down to turn up the radio so he could listen to some vintage oldies. Still, he felt uneasy, and was nevertheless chilled in spite of the flood of warm air cascading from the car heater.
Odd. Noticing that nothing but static came from the radio, he thought he must have nudged the selector of the station. It was strange. Not the ordinary static, but like distant water tumbling over rocks and smashing into other intruding matter.
Briefly taking his gaze off the road, Gohan pressed the selector button again. Immediately the numbers changed, but the sound stayed true. It was the same far away water clashing. Strange. Again, he pressed the button to another station. The numbers changed, but, again, the sound did not. "Oh, wonderful. Terrific. Only a few hours and the radio's already broken. Jeez."
Once again glancing away from the road, Gohan started pressing all the controls hoping to find anything. He was desperate. The sound of the water was driving him mad. He would settle for polka! He switched from FM to AM, but still no change. The static stayed victorious. Eventually, he gave up. Cursing under his breath he pressed the button to turn it off. The static remained undiminished. Again he pushed the same button to no avail.
Gradually, the character of the sound had changed from the gurgle of falling water to a sound that resembled that of a crowd, like voices of a multitude all raising their voices in cheers or chants; or perhaps it was the far away babble of an angry mob or protest group. Disturbed by the sound greatly, Gohan continued to jab any and all buttons in his sight with hope of relief.
Voices. Defiantly voices. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Men, women, and the fragile voices of children. Through the shouts he could here screaming. Pleas for help, moaning, people in anguish. It filled the car. There was no escaping the sound.
The voices were creepy, mesmerizing. He found himself staring at the radio for too long and diverted his attention back to the highway he was currently traveling, but he was only able to focus for a few seconds as his gaze unintentionally crept back down to watch the radio.
Now behind all of the voices, Gohan was able to depict one rising above all others. It was low. The voice did not seem human. But what else could it be. The voice cracked as it gradually rose above all the others. Phlegm rocked in the lungs of...whatever it was. The voice was wet, slimy, disgusting. The repulsive thing rang over the 'crowd', but its words were undecipherable.
No. Good God. What was coming from those speakers was static, white noise, electronic slush. Gohan didn't trust his overactive imagination at the moment. Not at all.
In spite of the chill that still infested his body, Gohan felt perspiration slide down his forehead. His palms were sweaty too.
Surely, he had pressed every button in the car at least three times, but the ghostly chorus droned on. "Damn." He scrunched up his hand to make a fist. He smashed the fist against the control panel, not hard enough to break it, but so he pressed three or four buttons simotaniously.
Minute by minute, second by second, the on going voice of phlegm echoed through the car. Gohan believed it was getting clearer. But why. Once again, Gohan threw his fist against the panel, accept this time, a stifled cry left his mouth. He wanted to end the drone. Even though it couldn't possibly cause any harm to him... Could it?
As he questioned himself, he realized he had to block out the sound. Do what ever it takes. He clamped his hands to the steering wheel, trying as hard as he could to ignore the pain filled moans coming from the stereo speakers. ". . .Kanahan. . ."
That one word. Clear as daylight. ". . .Son Kanahan. . ."
The repulsive, mucus-clotted voice rang over the speakers. Gohan's name . His Saiyan name. ". . .Son Kanahan. . ."
Someone was calling him. Seeking contact. Coming closer. Ever so near now. The voice... it called to him and it seemed...hungry.
The chill, unbearable. Like little scurrying spiders infected his body. A third time, he shot his fist at the panel. He screamed. Abruptly, everything when dead. The only sound was that of the purring engine Gohan loved so much, the tires running on the road, and his ragged breathing.
Gohan gaped at the radio.
"Tha...That didn't just happen."