The engine sputtered; the car jerked. The Check Engine light came on, soon followed by all the other lights on the panel.
“What the . . . ?”
She’d had the 10 year-old car in the shop for general maintenance just the week before. What in the world could be wrong? No time to ponder the cause, she pulled the car as far off the busy highway as possible. Once she’d killed the engine, she laid her forehead on the steering wheel. Why now? Why here, a hundred miles from no-where? And why on one of the hottest days of the summer?
She checked her cell phone. Dead. “Figures.” This had been a crapper of a day from the get-go. Should’ve listened to her sister and just stayed put. The lead she was chasing was probably a dead-end, anyway.
The only house in sight had to be a half-mile down the highway. No time like the present, she thought as she headed out, grateful she at least had on tennis shoes and not her normal three-inch sandals.
“Sorry. We don’t have a phone,” the woman said before she quickly closed the door in her face.
Stunned, she turned and retraced her steps.
The late afternoon sun beat down on her as she trudged back to the worthless piece of junk that had previously been so reliable. Right now, she’d give the world for a hat, or a shade tree, or a cool bottle of water.
Passenger side doors open, she sat in the car for what seemed like hours. No one stopped. Dusk settled and she began to get scared. Would she have to spend the night out here? Alone? No one would even miss her for a couple of days.
Finally, a car pulled up behind her. The driver left the lights on high, pretty much blinding her. A door slammed. Boots crunched on the gravel. All she could make out were the legs of a very tall man as he came even with the driver’s door.
He leaned down and . . .
You continue the story. Where does it go from here? 🙂