Ken Douglas - Nightwitch

Sometimes the highway bent into a sharp curve and he was forced to slide down to eighty, but he averaged over a hundred for over an hour, before he brought the speed down to a respectable sixty miles per hour. Sarah lay back and breathed in the misty air coming in from the sea. After that wild ride, sixty seemed like slow motion.

Up ahead, she saw the glowing lights of one of those off ramps that offered fast food, fuel and lodging. He eased the battered Corvette into the right lane, dropping the speed down to fifty. Sarah slid back further into her seat. Maybe the insanity was almost over.

She wondered why he was stopping, and why here. He wasn’t stopping for gas, or directions. She couldn’t imagine he was going to McDonald’s, and keyed up like he was, she didn’t think he had the motel in mind. She would just have to sit tight and be quiet and wait and see what developed, because it didn’t look like he was going to tell her.

He took the car off the ramp at thirty five, passing a Shell station, and turned into a parking lot shared by a Denny’s Restaurant at one end and Jack’s Honky Tonk Saloon at the other. He drove up to the bar, parking between a Ford Van and a Chevy Pickup. She could hear Johnny Cash on the jukebox filtering out from the bar. Nice music drifting through a quiet night. Her ordeal was finally over. Now, all she had to do was find some clothes, get a ride home and see if Harrison got the fire department to her house in time to save anything.

“ Stay here,” he said, turning to her. He tried to look her in the eyes, but his gaze drifted down to her naked breasts. She wanted to cover them, but she appreciated the look, despite everything he’d put her through, and besides he’d seen them bobbing, thumping and rolling for the whole wild ride, a few more seconds wasn’t going to hurt. But it would be the last time he’d ever see them, she thought.

“ Where are you going? she asked.

“ To get another car and you something to wear.”

“ Then what?”

“ Then we drive back to Palma. I still have a little girl to protect.”

“ It was just an animal. It’s dead.”

“ Lady, what will it take to convince you. You saw it last night and you refuse to believe. It crashed into your house tonight, bent on killing us. It tried to get us on the road, and would have succeeded if not for your shooting, and still you doubt?”

“ I feel bad about the bear. It’s illegal to shoot them. They’re endangered.”

“ That was no bear.”

“ It was a bear.”

“ Then why’d you shoot.”

“ I was frightened and not thinking clearly.” She met his gaze head on and this time held his eyes with hers.

“ Okay, Sarah, I don’t want to fight with you. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

“ What about me?”

“ You wanna come with me?”

“ No, but I don’t want to sit here with the top down, naked in the moonlight.”

“ All right.” He restarted the car and tried to get the top to come up, but all they heard was the struggling of the electric motor. He got out of the car and tried to raise it by hand, but the collision with the police car had done enough damage to keep the top permanently down.

“ Great, now what do I do?” she asked.

“ Sit low in the seat till I get back,” he said and then he was gone, leaving Sarah to bask alone in the glow of the red and white flashing neon sign of Jack’s Honky Tonk Saloon, while she listened to Johnny Cash sing his truck driving songs.

After a few minutes she settled in. Johnny Cash shifted into Dolly Parton who became Patsy Cline. Then the music went up and she popped open her eyes. The music was louder because the tavern door was open. Someone was coming. She slunk low in the seat as two men passed by the rear of the Corvette.

She heard a car start, then another. She listened as the sounds they made disappeared into the night. The highway, close by, reminded her of a river as she settled back and closed her eyes again. The passing cars, like running water rippling by. She thought of those drivers going on their long trips, some in a hurry, others taking their time, all with the radio on or a cassette playing to drown out the silent night and pass away the time. None of them giving a thought to the people and lives in the small towns they were driving through.

“ How does it feel to be like a rolling stone,” she heard the gravel twangy voice of Bob Dylan and wondered who slipped that one in there. She imagined howls of protest when the song started. Then she smiled. Maybe not, she thought-it was a great song. Maybe it was on the juke for a reason. Maybe they liked it.

She was so caught up in the music, she didn’t notice the volume rise when the bar door opened again, and she didn’t notice it fade back down when it closed. But she did notice the sound of heavy breathing, the smell of beer breath, and the feel of eyes crawling along her naked flesh.

She opened her eyes.

A beefy hand clamped around her jaw, thumb and fingers pressing against her cheeks, forcing her mouth open. She gagged as a man with a ruddy face shoved a bandanna into her mouth.

“ Get the door open, Willy.”

“ Yeah, Gus, yeah Gus,” Willy said.

She stared wide-eyed as a short, stubby man fumbled a key in the door of the Ford Van. She tried to scream through the bandanna as the door slid open. Then she felt the knife at her throat.

“ I never had me a dead woman,” the man with the knife and the fleshy hands said. Dead came out, dayed.

She choked back the scream. Whatever these men were going to do to her couldn’t be as bad as that knife at her throat, but she wasn’t going to give in easily.

“ Better, lady,” Gus said, and he opened the door of the Corvette and pulled her out.

“ This is gonna be great, Gus. This is gonna be great, Gus,” Willy said.

“ Into the van,” Gus said. He had a large hand wrapped around her wrist, but when he lowered the knife to push her into the van, she jammed her elbow into his stomach, causing a whoosh of air to rush out of his lungs. But he didn’t let go of her wrist, and he didn’t drop the knife.

“ You okay, Gus? You okay, Gus?” Willy whined.

He answered with a cough and she jammed her open hand between his legs, grabbing him by the testicles. She squeezed and Gus howled, doubled over and let go of her wrist. She turned to run away from him and slammed into Willy’s stubby chest.

“ Not gonna get away. Not gonna get away.” Willy wrapped his arms around her and holding her in a bear hug. She punched him in the stomach, but he held on. She kneed him in the groin, but he held on. She bit him in the neck, but he held on.

“ Let her go, son.” John Coffee’s voice came from the parking lot and Willy released her.

Sarah ran toward Coffee as the heavy set man with the knife got his wind.

“ Behind me,” he said, and she obeyed, sliding between Willy and the Chevy pickup.

“ You’re gonna be one sorry son of a bitch,” Gus said.

“ Please don’t kill these men,” Sarah said. “The short one is retarded. It’s not his fault.”

“ Am not, am not,” Willy said.

“ Take your friend, go back into the bar and you can live,” Coffee said.

The man was big. He had a knife, and he’d been drinking, but not that much, and he wasn’t that stupid. “Come on, Willy, let’s go get another beer.”

“ Fine by me, Gus. Fine by me, Gus,” Willy said.

The big man put away the knife and lead his stubby friend back into the bar. When Gus opened the door that voice rang out loud into the night. Bob Dylan was still singing that song on the juke box and she was beginning to know what it felt like to be like a rolling stone.

“ We gotta go.” He turned toward her, but she didn’t move. She just stood there in the middle of the parking lot, nude, with her feet apart, hands on her hips, breasts jutting forward, long hair blowing in the wind, her skin changing color with the reflection of the neon sign. Pink, white, pink, white. She was drop dead beautiful.