Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
This was a bad idea, Samantha thought for the umpteenth time.
It was so cold that her skin hurt. Somehow, her insides hurt, too, as if she was literally chilled to the bone.
Her front driver’s side tire had blown out thirty minutes ago. There, on that deserted stretch of two-lane highway, the fierce winter wind had blown a piece of thin metal right into her path. She’d tried to swerve, but it wasn’t any use. It sliced her tire, leaving her stranded.
All around her were low-rising arid mountains and a whole lot of nothing.
Well, besides the tumbleweeds. A few honest-to-goodness tumbleweeds blew about, either rolling across the road or flying, depending on how ferocious the wind gusts were.
The gray sky was eerie. The world was strangely quiet except for the taunting, howling wind.
It was as if the very air was angry.
She popped the trunk, got out, and hurried to the rear of the car to once again look inside at the spare tire, as if that would somehow make her know how to change one.
Obviously, nothing had changed from the last time she’d stared down at it. Or the time before that.
She went back to the car, shrieking a little as a giant semi zipped past her, the swooshing current it produced nearly knocking her over.
It rocked the car, too, as she climbed back inside and shut the door.
Part of her wished the trucker would have stopped to help her. Another part of her was glad he hadn’t.
She felt so alone and vulnerable out there in the middle of nowhere.
Why had she run? She should have stayed in LA!
Perhaps she should go back. Of course, she couldn’t on that flat tire.
But maybe someone would stop and help her.
Or maybe someone who happened by would have pity on her and stop to help.
That ran the risk of a psychotic killer attacking her.
But then again, she wasn’t exactly protected from them just sitting in the rental car.
The snow started slowly.
A few hard pellets clinked against the windshield. Then more came, pinging on top of the roof and bouncing down.
Crap! It wasn’t soft snow. It was mixed with ice.
Five minutes later, the window was glazed over.
She looked down at the dash and realized her fuel wouldn’t hold out forever. Running the car all night to have the heater going wasn’t an option. Besides, she might overheat the engine.
So, that left several options.
She could kill the engine and let it go for a while until she became too cold. Then, she could turn it back on to run the heater for a while before switching it off again. The process would just have to be repeated throughout the night.
But then what? The morning would come and the area might be covered in snow, and she’d be colder than she was now!
Maybe that was why there weren’t many travelers on this stretch of road right then. Everyone else had the good sense to check the damn weather before setting off on their journeys.
Another option was to watch a video on YouTube and see if she could figure out how to change the tire. Surely she could stumble through it.
That was the only course of action.
Hopefully she was strong enough to get all the nuts or bolts or whatever they were and get that old tire off and the spare on.
She hopped out of the car and rubbed her hands together. Everything instantly hurt. She hadn’t prepared for winter weather. Living in Los Angeles, she didn’t really have a heavy coat. The long-sleeved flannel shirt she wore did little to protect her from the storm that was billowing around her.
Grabbing a hoodie from the backseat, she threw it on and bounced on the balls of her feet trying to generate warmth through the activity.
She had to hurry, though, because she wouldn’t last long in that cold, exposed like she was.
Going to the trunk again, she was about to unlatch the spare tire when a car horn blared. Spinning around, she saw a vehicle careening straight toward her.
Samantha leapt out of the way.
The car fishtailed all over the road and narrowly avoided hitting her stalled vehicle.
It kept going.
“Hey,” she muttered. “You could have at least stopped to see if I’m okay.”
Samantha started walking back to the trunk, but the ground was so slick she could barely stay upright.
“Explains why the car was having trouble.”
Tears began to stream down her cheeks. This was a hopeless situation. There was no way she could realistically change the tire. She didn’t have the first clue as to what she was doing.
With desperation setting in, she looked around. That’s when she saw an old building on her side of the road just about a hundred yards away. She’d completely missed that earlier!
It was tough to make out much detail, because the snow and ice were blowing something fierce now. But from what she could see, it was a gas station. There weren’t any cars around it, and it didn’t even appear to be open.
It was better than nothing, though. She could take shelter in there—even if she had to break a window to get in—and ride out the storm. Once it was over, perhaps she could call someone. Or maybe she could call 9-1-1 when she got in and see if first responders could reach her.
Either way, the building was her only hope.
She grabbed her stuff and slowly trudged toward the structure. As she went, she thought of Kendrick and her friends. She’d give anything to be with them now. But she only had herself to blame for the predicament she was in.
The predicament that just might kill her.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered, hoping the words would somehow reach Kendrick’s ears.
“I’m sorry for everything.”