by T. S. Hill
“Y’all be careful out there Jimmy Ray!” cooed the dark haired cheerleader, again directing her flirtatious attention to the young cop that was opening the driver door on the patrol car.
“We’ll be careful, Chris Ann. You be good!”, admonished the cop, as he removed his service hat and climbed back into the cruiser.
“Oh, I’m always good Jimmy Ray! Always!”, she called back. As the cops backed out, I could see them both laughing, and then, they were gone. Closing the gas lid, I put the pump handle back on the stand, then strode across the lot, to pick up my change, and buy some headache remedy for Lori.
Half way across the lot, I overheard one of the girls ask the dark-haired cheerleader, “Why are you always flirting with that cop, Chris Ann?”
“Who? Jimmy Ray? Because I want to fuck him!”, she answered bluntly. All of the other girls squealed, almost simultaneously.
One of the boys piped up, “If all you want is fucked, I’ll do that right now!”
“Ernie Rogers! It’ll take more dick than you’ve got, to properly fuck me!”, she piped back. The girls all squealed again, and the boys all erupted with laughter.
Not to be out done, the embarrassed boy grabbed his crotch, and hunching forward, shouting back, “You’re just afraid of this anaconda!” The girls all squealed again, and the boys all erupted in even louder laughter. The cute dark-haired cheerleader grinned and flipped the guy a bird, as she climbed into a car full of girls.
“You want it and you know it!”, the boy shouted after her, as the car full of teen girls pulled away. The car full of girls moved down the street, and the boy yelled out after them, “Holy shit! I want to fuck that!”
One of the other boys shouted back at him, “Hell, Ernie, we all wanna fuck that!”
When I returned to the car, all of the teens had left, and the parking lot was again empty, save the Mustang, and what I assumed was the clerk’s rusty Toyota at the other end of the lot. I handed Lori the headache remedy, with a bottle of Gatorade, and told her that I hoped she liked fruit punch flavor. She silently took both from my hands.
I told her that the clerk had said that there was a string of fast food spots, just up the highway, a couple of miles ahead, where we could get something to eat and use the rest rooms. She nodded her head silently, as she tore at the packaging of the headache remedy.
I cranked the Mustang and slowly cruising across the lot, eased back into the roadway. Just as I straightened in the road, and began to accelerate, I saw the rusty Toyota’s lights come on. That, startled me. I had assumed, wrongly, that the car belonged to the store clerk.
I watched in the rear-view mirror intently as the Toyota pulled into the street and began following us. I knew that it might be nothing, or, it might be Milinni’s men. I couldn’t take a chance, but I also didn’t need to panic. I kept moving down the street, sticking just under the posted speed limit. The rust bucket kept its distance, but its head beams were constantly there.
The Toyota followed us all the way through downtown Canadian and almost to the eastern outskirts of town. Finally, I pointed at a burger joint on the left and asked Lori, “This okay with you for getting something to eat?” She lowered the Gatorade bottle from her lips, but still didn’t speak, only nodding her head. I put on my turn signal and turned into the drive that was just past the restaurant. The drive circled the store and arrived back on the other side of the store, at the drive through window.
As I turned into the driveway, I watched intently, as the Toyota sped up and continued down the street. I was relieved to see it pass on down the street, and out of sight.
Pulling the Mustang up to the billboard style order station, I asked Lori what she would like. I hoped she wasn’t going to give me the same silent treatment that she had before, nor a hateful potty mouth response. I was pleased when she only took a moment, and ordered a burger, fries and a large chocolate shake.
I relayed that, with my order, to the microphone and speaker, and after being told the total, was asked to pull to the window to pay for, and pick up, my order. I handed the clerk, a twenty.
She was a pretty brunette with huge tits, wearing a very low cut, bright yellow, stringed halter, top that showed them off handsomely. Surprisingly, as soon as she had handed me back my change, she immediately handed me two bags of food, and then, my lemonade and Lori’s chocolate shake.
Just as I handed Lori the chocolate shake, I heard the sound of a revving engine, then saw the rust bucket Toyota tearing around the corner of the building next to the restaurant, within the adjacent parking lot. As the car turned near the curb separating the two parking lots, I saw a barrel poke from the back window of the Toyota. It was a shotgun barrel.
I grabbed Lori by the top of her head and shoved her down hard, following her myself, as low in the Mustang as I could get us. Then we heard the blast.
Both of our windows had been down and we could hear the pellets whizzing over our heads and tearing into parts of the car, and the service opening of the drive through. Next, we heard tires squealing, and the Toyota speeding away. I raised up and saw the Toyota heading east, the same direction that we had been heading.
I flipped open the console and pulled out the Colt. As, I was shifting the Mustang back into drive, I looked to my left and saw what had happened in the drive through window. This was going to get attention.
I pulled away from the drive through window as fast as I could. I didn’t want Lori raising up and seeing what I had just seen. The shot gun blast had torn the cute, big-titted brunette into a mess. There was nothing that we, or anybody else, could do for her. I pulled out of the restaurant and headed back in the direction from where we had just come. Lori raised up now and asked, “Where the hell are we going?”
“Just hang on!”, I replied back to her firmly, “and tighten up your seat belt. “. I flew down the street for two blocks with everything the Mustang could give me, then locked up the brakes and made a right
“Where the hell are you going?”, Lori demanded.
“I am going on the premise that there is a street that runs parallel to highway sixty.”, I yelled at her, and continued, “I figure that those clowns will be waiting to ambush us, somewhere along sixty. If we can get far enough ahead of them before crossing back over to highway sixty, then we can avoid the ambush.
“How about we just head north or south for tonight instead of east?”, she responded coolly.”
“Normally, that would be a good idea.”, I responded to her, still shouting. “But the guys pulling the strings of those goons, will be expecting that, and probably already have dispatched people to intercept us on both the north and south routes. They also know enough to know, that I can’t afford to turn back. So, our best chance is to get ahead of that fucking rust bucket of a Toyota, and hope that no one else is dispatched east.”
She didn’t argue, which surprised me, but just calmly said, “Okay, let’s go! And, please quit yelling!”
It struck me how calm she was in the face of just being shot at, and facing the distinct possibility that there were other people out there gunning for us. “Yeah”, I said a little more calmly, “I just didn’t want you to get all upset, and hysterical, or anything.”
“Right!” she said, as I turned onto the street running parallel to highway sixty. Gilmer street only ran for a few blocks and then we faced, a left to who knows where, or a right back toward highway sixty.
“Well it looks like we’re going to get ambushed, Cowboy.”, she bluntly commented.
“Look, we don’t have much choice at this point but to face this head on.” I told her. “. So, get down as far into the floor as you can, and I’ll do the best I can.”
“Fuck that!”, she popped back. You got another gun?”
“What? So, you can shoot me with it?”, I shot back. Just then, we reached the stop light at highway sixty. Across the street, parked under the street light, was the rust bucket Toyota, with two guys sitting in the front seat. The shotgun barrel
was visible, laying on the side mirror of the passenger side.
“In the glove box!”, I shouted, as I flipped the .45 to my left hand. She had the glove box door open, my backup, nine mil Smith in her hand, and had racked a round into the chamber as she leaned out the window, pointing the nine at the Toyota. I looked both ways and hit the accelerator.
As the Mustang’s tires screamed, and we charged forward, I fired the first round into the passenger side of the Toyota’s windshield, and almost simultaneously heard the nine release two rounds. As I spun the Mustang into a hard left, we watched the Toyota’s windshield shatter into a spider web. It appeared that all three shots found their mark, so as I straightened the skidding Mustang into highway sixty, I stomped it.
“Lighten up!” Lori shouted, “You want to get the cops on us?”
“We just shot two guys!”, I popped back at her.
“The cops don’t know that!”, she yelled at me. Then as I let off the gas and slowed down, she added, “Yet!” Then, I swear, I heard her giggle.
As hard as it was to believe then, and even now, we peacefully rode out of town and made our way into the night, unmolested any further by gangsters, or cops. About ten miles out of town, I saw the light of the glove box come on. Lori laid the little Smith inside, then closed the door.
“Does that answer your question?”, she asked. This time, I didn’t answer. I also didn’t mention the mess the goons had made of the fast food girl. It upset me bad enough, but I found myself wondering if maybe, it hadn’t upset me more, than it would have Lori. But, I didn’t really want to test that out.
A little later, somewhere in the darkness, I pulled off onto a side road, and we found a dark spot to relieve ourselves. Back on the road, she silently ate her burger and some fries, and drank her chocolate shake. Then after thanking me for the food and headache remedy, she rolled to her side, and promptly fell asleep. This damn girl could roll with the punches. I rode into the darkness thinking quietly to myself, but in an awfully troubled way.
I had managed to keep the empty cartridge case in the Mustang when I had shot the store clerk in the foot, but we had both sent casings flying into the street, from both my Colt and Smith, in Canadian. Those casings could tie my guns, and hence me, to that shooting. It wouldn’t be safe to continue the trip without weapons though, so I couldn’t afford to dump them, and besides, where in the hell would I get another decent pistol out on the road like this? We would just have to take our chances, hang on to what we had, and roll with the punches.
A foreign thought rolled through my head, and I could not understand why I was thinking it. I thought, if I had to go through this crazy shit, then I couldn’t think of another person, that I would rather go through it with, than this bitchy, cool, gorgeous, sexy, blonde, that I was calling Lori.
And to think, that I almost left her on the side of the road. I was glad that I swam against the current on that one. Even though I still didn’t know her name, I still really wanted to fuck her. I wanted her bad, and at the same time, couldn’t understand why I was letting my own yearnings override what little good sense I had.
Riding in silence, I realized, that Lori probably wasn’t aware, that just before she dove into my car, that I shot the store clerk in the foot. I thought too, that she probably wiped the Smith before putting it back in the glove box. This girl had obviously been to a couple of rodeos before this one. To her list of qualities, I had to add, that this girl could shoot, and stayed cool under fire.
Her list of positive qualities kept growing, along with my lust for her. She was just like a knock out rosebush; beautiful, and just keeps on blooming. But, I wasn’t picking roses. I was on a mission to clear myself, and see that those that would have me killed, wound up either as food for their own kind, or forever off the streets. I had to find a way to keep my mind focused on that. In the darkness of the highway, I wished myself luck.
Chapter Three
Do I Feel Lucky?
Good looks, hard work, clean living, and honesty, are worthless when luck is at play. Only preparation can hold the hand of lady luck, and seduce her into his bed.
I had driven into the night, until about three in the morning, and I was getting pretty groggy. I shook Lori gently, not bothering to call her by her fake name, since she wouldn’t recognize it coming out of sleep.
“I’ve got to pull off the highway, somewhere secluded, and get some sleep, or you’re going to have to take over driving.”, I told her. I had become accustomed to her, mostly hostile, potty mouth, but her civil answer, this time, surprised me.
“I can’t drive.”, she matter-of-factly stated.
“What?”, I asked, not sure that I had heard her correctly.
“I can’t drive.”, she stated again, only just a little slower.
“You’re kidding me!”, I exclaimed.
“What’s the big deal?”, she earnestly asked. “A lot of people don’t drive.”
“Well, okay”, I replied and paused. “Then we’ll just need to get off the highway and find a place where I can safely catch a few zees.”
“Okay.”, she responded.
“Stay awake and pay attention”, I told her. “Later, I may need your help finding our way out of here.”
Once again, she simply responded, “Okay.” Then I heard her mutter under her breath, “What the fuck does he have a fucking GPS for?”
Within a half mile of our brief conversation, I spotted a secondary road sign off to the right, and took the road. About two miles down that road I saw a small dirt road to the left, just as we ran past it. I stopped and backed up, saw no fresh tire tracks on the road, and decided to take it.
About a half mile out that road, it emptied into an open grassy area, with an old unpainted barn on the far-left side of the opening, and two rock chimneys, some one hundred yards to the right of the barn, where obviously a house had once stood.
I circled the Mustang in the open area with the high beams on and didn’t see any other structure, other than a wooden corral fence adjacent to the barn, an old, raised, wooden, water tower, with a windmill to the right, and some barbed wire fencing, beyond the cleared grassy area.
“This looks like as safe a place as any.”, I said as much to myself as to Lori.
Again, she only answered, “Okay.”
I cut the engine, killed the lights, and let the back of my seat recline.
“I’ll stay awake and keep an eye out while you sleep.”, Lori volunteered.
“Sounds good.”, I replied, although I still wasn’t up to fifty percent on trusting her, and I figured, it probably never would be a hell of a lot higher. Still, I thought, trust her or not, I’d really like to take that gal in my arms and fuck her brains out. And, with that thought floating around in my head, somehow, I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke well after the sun had been up a while. I intended, hoped that is, to be awake about sunrise. I definitely had some thinking to do. I wasn’t sure if there would be an APB out for the Mustang with two occupants, or if the area would be flooded with Milinni’s, and his associates’, goons.
I needed to think this situation through very carefully, before venturing back onto the road. I dared not make a cell call. In fact, my cell phone had been packed away in the trunk of the Mustang since the beginning of this trip. It probably needed charging by now.
Just then I saw Lori coming from the barn area towards me, with a large basket in her arms, pushed out in front of her. Well, I thought, she must have done a good job at keeping an eye out. We were both alive, and not surrounded by cops or goons.
In the morning light, I could see that the twin chimneys, that we had observed last night, were all that was left of a farm house, that had, sometime fairly recently, burned to the ground. Knowing that someone’s home was lost to fire made me a little sad. I imagined that lives had been lived out here happily, children raised, and that somewhere in that old heap of ashes, was a bedroom where a lot of love had been made.
That o
ld tree trunk in the clearing, probably once held a swing, where shrieks and laughter prevailed. I imagined squeals and bare feet had chased balls, dogs, and other bare feet through the now overgrown grass. Now, it was all gone, and nothing was left but a history forgotten.
Finally, Lori finished her methodical slow plod from the barn to the Mustang, and set her basket down. My attention withdrew from the old house, and I now focused on the lovely girl before me.
“Whatcha got there girl?” I asked.
“Well good morning to you, Stan.”, she uncharacteristically replied in a cherry voice, but emphasized “Stan”. I think that may have been her way of acknowledging that she knew that wasn’t my name.
“Good morning, Lori”, I retorted, with emphasis on the “Lori”, to signify that I got her message., “Whatcha got there?”
“Oh, you’re going to be surprised!”, she said with a hint of excitement in her voice, while easing the basket to the ground just outside of my car door. “I found several old chests in the barn with clothes and other stuff in them. The clothes are all clean, and neatly folded, so I brought a few with me that I thought we could change into. They look like they’ll fit us.
And, I found a cellar, except that it’s dark down in there, and I didn’t have a light and couldn’t see in it. And then, I found that just under that water tank, is a homemade shower, with some soap and a few towels hanging there. And, the shower works!”, she ended, with an excited look on her face. Jeepers! She sure was beautiful in the full morning sunlight.
“Okay, give me a sec, and we’ll have a look.”, I replied. I got out of the car and stretched. “You want to excuse me for a minute?”, I directed to her, and raised my eyebrows.
“Oh sure!”, She replied, “Just go around that side of the barn.”, She pointed to the right. “For heaven sakes don’t pee here beside the car! And,” she continued. “if you need them, there’s a door on that side of the barn, that opens the corn crib, and there’s just all kinds of corn cobs and shucks in there. If you need them!”, she repeated.