Amelia led the way inside the gas mart where fluorescent light cast a dingy glow. It looked as though the place had been left to rot. Dust blanketed a handful of sparsely filled shelves. The only sign of life was the mournful warble of “Ramblin’ Man” pouring from the speakers. They loitered at the counter covered in yellowed plastic. An ashtray next to the register overflowed with stale cigarette butts.
“Hello?” Brian shouted.
Shuffles sounded from behind a door labeled “Employees Only.” It flung open, and a hulking man settled beneath its frame in tattered jeans and a sweat-stained shirt. Greasy grey hair framed a bloated face.
“I’m closed,” he barked but leered at Amelia.
“Sir, we really need gas,” Brian said. “We won’t make it to another station.”
“You got cash? No cash, no gas. And I won’t pump it for you.”
Spittle gathered at the corners of the man’s cracked lips. Brian’s eyes darted to Amelia, and his skin paled as she shook her head. She never carried cash. The attendant pointed to the door for them to leave and turned back to his hovel.
“In case the food sucks and you wanna stop for something on the way home.”
“Wait! I’ve got it,” Amelia called after him and fumbled through her purse.
She handed the attendant two twenty-dollar bills. He snatched them from her, but his beady eyes gleamed with greed.
“All of it.”
“This is all of it,” Amelia insisted.
For a moment, he looked poised to call her bluff, but grumbled to himself and jabbed at the register.
Brian discreetly slipped Amelia the car keys. “Get in and lock the door.”
She obeyed and, from the passenger seat, supervised Brian’s scrimmage with the clerk until a car pulled in. Her eyes shot to the rearview mirror where headlights beamed from a beat-up Buick. The driver rummaged through the glove box before kicking open the door.
Amelia scooted down in her seat to go unnoticed. Gravel crunched in deliberate steps. Maybe they just needed gas. Why then did they park at an out-of-order pump? The steps stopped behind Brian’s car. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Go away. Please go away.
The slow crunch started again, then something lightly tapped the top of Brian’s car.
Tap, crunch, tap, crunch.
The sounds came closer until the driver stopped outside Amelia’s door.
EIGHT
AMELIA
Aknock cracked at the window.
Amelia knew it was coming but still flinched. With another knock, she opened her eyes. A man stared through the glass, his eyes buggy behind thick glasses. A chipped tooth left a small, jagged hole in his smile.
He looked like her high school science teacher—goofy and affable with a flannel shirt stuffed into jeans. The similarities ended there. Something not quite harmless stirred in his eyes.
When he circled his wrist for Amelia to roll down the window, her panicked gaze snapped to the door lock.
“Sorry if I scared you,” he shouted and acquiesced with lifted hands. “I was wondering if you could give me some directions.”
He flashed a hopeful grin, but Amelia tucked her elbows to her side and dropped her chin to her chest.
“Miss, I just need some help. I’m not from here. Where I’m from, folks help each other out. It’s what our good Lord would want.”
Don’t be rude.Isn’t that what he meant? Do what he said or burn in hell branded a bitch?
