The coffee was good and the night was quiet except for the occasional chirp of crickets and the hum of the compressor in the vending machine. Miguel had taken the last swig from his plastic cup when a young woman walked out of the ladies restroom and stopped midway down the sidewalk. She looked to be in her early twenties and was wearing some sort of black overcoat, or maybe it was a raincoat. She stood perfectly still then swatted the air several times as if shooing a fly. She then placed her hands over her eyes and leaned her head back. She stood on the sidewalk like that, still as a statue, long enough for Miguel to wonder if something was wrong. He was about to flash his headlights at her when she dropped her hands and took off running in the direction of the Lincoln. In the darkness he heard a door slam, an engine roar to life, and then the Lincoln backed up several feet and stopped. The car idled for a moment and then the engine died and the lights went out. It was all a bit on the peculiar side, but tired people did peculiar things. Maybe she decided she needed a little shut-eye after all. It wasn’t against the law to back up three feet and stop. He poured another cup of coffee from his thermos and enjoyed the cool night air and the warmth of his French roast. Occasionally the light above the vehicle flickered to life for a second then snapped out again. In the brief illumination Miguel saw the dark shadow of the woman sitting at the wheel. During one moment of illumination, Miguel thought he saw her swatting at flies. He sipped his coffee and kept his eyes focused on the dark end of the parking lot. It was unusual for a woman traveling alone to stop at a remote rest area. Most ladies would be scared to do that. And then there was all that weirdness with the fly swatting. She was young enough to be a druggie, not that you had to be young to partake. Maybe she was a meth head or just good old-fashioned crazy? The more he thought about her strange behavior the more he thought he should go down and check on her. If she was high or having some mental episode, she certainly didn’t need to be on the road. Miguel put his thermos away and stepped out of the cruiser. His legs were stiff, but they loosened up as he walked down the sidewalk and toward the parked car. The light flickered again as he came along the driver’s side window. He could see the woman behind the wheel. Her eyes were closed and she took no notice of him. She looked like she was resting, but then she wrinkled her nose and swatted at the air in front of her face. He tapped lightly on the glass and said, “Good evening, Ma’am. Highway Patrol. Do you need any assistance tonight?” The young woman’s eyes popped open and she jerked her head toward him. The electric window came down and the light buzzed off again. A few seconds later the light popped back on and Miguel saw her face clearly exposed in the orange glow. Her blank expression shot off an immediate flare in his mind. There was something smeared on her lip, and her eyes were hollow with pupils as large as saucers. Before he could ask for her license and registration, the gun came up and Miguel was blown away into the shadows. # # # # # amazon/Deadr-Than-Elvis-Bullsh-ebook/dp/B00CXGPBW6/ref=pd_sim_kstore_1
Posted on: Sat, 10 Aug 2013 02:51:57 +0000
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