* * *
Four hours later,my tires tossed up clouds of dust as my car crawled across the designated dirt path to where I'd conduct my research on the local flora and fauna.
Man, I knew it was a desert and all, but it washot. My sweaty hands kept slipping from the steering wheel. I stubbornly refused to turn the AC up the same way I'd stubbornly refused to yield to my alpha coworkers. I didn't trust my rickety old car to both drive and blast AC at the same time.
But it was fine. I was here alone, just like I wanted. I could finally work in peace and quiet without someone roping me into an inane conversation. Soon I'd arrive at the research site and get to work.
Everything was going according to plan.
Correction: everythingwasgoing to plan until I saw smoke billowing out from under the hood of the car. They winded up like ominous snakes, coiling and smothering the sun.
I leaned forward, mouth slightly open, eyes narrowed to investigate through the windshield. At first, I hoped with every fiber of my being that it was just the disturbed dust pluming around the car, but the more I inspected it, the more that knot of dread tightened inside my stomach. Was it a problem related to the engine?
Just as I was praying it wasn't, the engine sputtered as if it were choking.
“No. Don't you even dare," I muttered.
The car stalled out.
"Are you fucking kidding me."
A foul odor wafted through the vents. Then, a hiss, and a sigh, as if the car were giving up on life altogether, unable to bear driving another inch in the unforgiving heat of the sprawling desert.
Groaning loudly, I banged my head against the headrest in frustration.
I'd admit it: I knew nothing about cars. Which wasnota good position to be in when I was alone in the desert with a broken down car.
But I wasn't incompetent. Maybe I could fix the situation by myself.
I did the only thing I knew to do. I clutched the keys in my fist and turned the engine again. Nothing happened.
Cranked again.
Nothing. Again.
My heart jumped into my throat and stayed there.
Lightheaded, I clutched the handle of the door and pushed it open, stepping out into the gritty sand. The bottom of my boots left impressions in the dirt as I tromped to the front of the car. I planted my hands on my hips, inspecting the hood as if I knew what the hell I was doing.
More steam billowed out, hissing, then a popping sound came from inside the hood. The car was mocking me, challenging me,daringme to try and get it to work again.
I walked back to the driver’s door and popped the hood with a push of a button. I lifted it with a grunt and hovered over all the engine parts with a glare. Maybe I could borrow a page from my alpha coworkers and simply intimidate the car into working again.
The car wasn't budging.
I was a great scientist, but when it came to cars, I was useless. I could drive one, sure, but otherwise I knew nothing. I didn't know how they operated, or most importantly, how to fix them.
The sun burned on my back. I drew the oppressive heat into my lungs, trying not to let my swollen, panicked throat close altogether.
Okay. Calm down, Frederick. You can deal with this. Just call roadside service.
I checked the bars on my phone. My stomach dropped.
Nothing.
No cell tower anywhere in sight to give me any contact with the outside world.
My pulse pounded noisily through my eardrums. My shirt clung to my back as perspiration continued to collect on my skin.
