2

Emily huffed as she walked down the stairway of her apartment. She had chosen the second floor when she had signed the lease. She thought the second floor would keep the creepy, drunk people from knocking on her door. She was right; however, now she had to worry about walking up and down two flights of stairs to put her book signing stuff and luggage in her car, Bitching Betty. Bitching Betty was what Emily had named the old 1995 blue Dodge Neon. 

The pink Hello Kitty suitcase was the last thing to be tossed into the trunk. Emily stared at her unorganized belongings. When the belongings had been in her apartment, they were in an orderly fashion. The way she liked things. By the second trip down the stairs, Emily gave up on keeping things organized. She was just happy to have made it to Bitching Betty without breaking her neck. 

“Bitching Betty, I hope you and I can have a great girls’ road trip. No more freeway incidents. Okay,” Emily pleaded. The car just sat there. As expected. “Here’s to wishful thinking,” she sighed.

She walked in front of the car, bowed her head and with closed eyes she said a brief prayer to any god or goddess, who might have been listening, that she would have a smooth trip to the book signing. Her and Bitching Betty had a past. A very unnerving past. 

The car had earned its name on the second day of being owned. The car had overheated in the middle of the freeway which had caused a lot of angry five o’clock drivers to give Emily the bird as they swerved around her. Two men had stopped their truck behind the car then assisted in moving the car to the emergency lane. They even offered to stay with her until her car started; however, Emily was already mortified that they had to stop in the middle of the freeway to help her. So she thanked them for their offer and their help then offered them money. The men refused to accept the money and were soon on their way. 

After an hour, the engine had cooled off enough for her to pour a jug of water into the radiator As quick as she could; she hauled ass down the freeway leaving her pride behind. Or at least she thought she had. The car then decided to make noises that Emily had never heard before and the check engine light popped on. She knew she needed to pull over. It had been a day from hell; work had been a nightmare with Dr. Hemington complaining about everything she did, she had just broken up with her boyfriend of one year, and she had received a phone call from her psycho mother. Emily just wanted to get home. She was no longer on the freeway so there would be less traffic for her and she’d get home in no time. Or at least that is what Emily told herself. The car had other plans. It began to sputter and jerk hard. Then it died in the middle of the road, smoke rolled from under the hood and covered her entire windshield. From then on, the car was named Bitching Betty. And Bitching Betty lived up to her name. Emily had the car less than three years and had already replaced a radiator, transmission, windshield, and four window motors. She needed to get a new car. However, Bitching Betty had grown on her. Emily kind of liked the excitement of ‘what the hell is going to happen now’ so she could post it on social media and earn thousands of likes. Bitching Betty had her purpose in life — social media diva.

***

“Son of a bitch,” Emily growled with her hands clenched on the steering wheel. She took a quick glance into her rearview mirror to see if her trunk was still shut. Or was Hello Kitty and book signing belongings spread out behind her? The road her GPS had directed her to for the book signing was bumpy, narrow in some places, slick from the falling rain, and deer central. Driving at snail speed didn’t seem to help as she had hoped.

Emily’s heart was damn near in her throat. She had slammed on her brakes several times to avoid hitting a deer or two. Each time there seemed to be a bump in the spot she hit her brakes. Her car would go airborne a few inches off of the road, then land back on the pavement. Her tires would lose traction and she would hydroplane several feet. 

She felt her odds of surviving this trip weren’t looking too good. 

“Thanks, GPS! Worthless piece of shit!” Emily whacked the GPS attached to her dashboard. The GPS flickered brightly, displayed an error then the screen went black. “Ugh. Just great. What else can go wrong?” 

Life answered Emily’s question. As she came around a curve, her headlights landed on a deer ahead of her. The deer was halfway across the road when he stopped and looked at the car. Emily’s heart was beating like a drum. A very loud drum.

“Go! Run, Bambi’s dad,” Emily pleaded. Her hands still gripped to the steering wheel. She feared if she hit the brakes, she would go spinning off the road and down the embankment. If she didn’t hit the brakes, she would hit the buck. Killing the buck and totaling her car was the last things on her to-do-list. 

Sputter. Sputter. Clank. Clank. 

Emily knew that sound oh too well. Bitching Betty had decided to take life into her own hands. Bitching Betty was going to die right then and there. Emily wasn’t sure if she should be thankful or threaten Bitching Betty with the scrap yard. 

Emily finally guided the car to the side of the road. “Wonderful. Just wonderful,” she grumbled. 

She hadn’t seen civilization for miles. The rinky-dink gas station she had stopped at was nearly an hour back. There was no way in hell she was walking anywhere, this late at night in the pouring rain. She was crazy, but not that crazy. 

The buck stood a few feet from the car. “Run, Mr. Bambi. Runaway. You’re safe, now.” Her hand gestured back and forth shooing the deer. He didn’t move right away. Just stood there in the rain looking at Emily and her dead car.

Crash!

Lightning struck off in the distance. It scared both Emily and the deer. The deer took off into the woods. The angry scream she had been holding she finally let out. She cursed, screamed, and slammed her fists on the steering wheel until she was calmer.

“Okay. Big girl panties up. Game face on. You got this, Emily Sophia Freeman!” 

Emily reached behind the passenger seat. She felt around until she found what she was looking for. A fishing-tackle-box-sized toolbox. She never left home without it. Her dad had been a piece of shit, but he had instilled survivor skills into her. One of the few things she had been thankful to him for. 

From inside the toolbox, she pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. She needed to find the problem before she could fix the problem. 

With the flashlight in her right hand, she pulled the hood release lever with her left hand. She took a deep breath before she swung the door wide open. The rain hit her like an ice cold waterfall. She shrieked and slammed the door shut again. 

“Why don’t I own a damn raincoat,” she asked herself staring out the window. “Okay. You can do this, Emily. You can do this.” 

Before she could change her mind, she opened the door, hopped out, and slammed the door shut. The rain pounded down on her. It hadn’t been but a few seconds and she was drenched. She ran to the front of the car and popped the hood. Leaning closer to the engine, she listened carefully for any sounds out of the ordinary. She heard nothing. 

“Of course it can’t be simple.” Emily moved the flashlight beam across the engine block. The rain slid in under the hood and blurred the beam from the flashlight. Emily screamed in frustration. She just wanted to go to the book signing. Her very first book signing, Romancing the Mitten. Yet, everything was going wrong. 

The closer to the signing she got, the stranger and worse things got. The middle of Timbuktu gas station she had last filled up at was no exception. She had muttered every cuss word she knew under her breath when the old man had told her they didn’t accept debit cards or credit cards. Luckily, Emily had taken out ‘just in case cash’ for her trip and was able to pay for her fill-up. 

“Anything else want to be thrown into this chaotic, clusterfuck of a road trip,” Emily shouted over the pouring rain. The flashlight slipped from her hand and tumbled down between the engine block and battery. Emily just stood there. Tears threatened to pour down her face. She wasn’t sure if they were tears of despair or tears from being so pissed.  

She gave a quick glance around. There were no cars in sight, so she walked around to the driver’s side of the hood and leaned in. The flashlight teeter-tottered on a hose just below the battery. Emily reached in over the edge and slid her hand down to retrieve it. 

Skreech! 

Sadly, the noise was music to Emily’s ears. It was the sound of a car hitting its brakes in the rain. She quickly stuck her head out from under the hood. A set of high beams greeted her as a car was coming towards her. The lights were blinding but were gone just as fast as they had come. 

The car the lights belonged to continued swerving for a few yards, then came to a stop. She let out a sigh of relief that the driver was able to keep control of the car. 

“Hey,” Emily cried out. She waved her hands in the air. The rain was falling too hard for her to see if the driver noticed her or not. Usually, she wouldn’t approach an unknown car, at night, in the pouring rain, but she saw no other option. 

Careful to not fall, she made her way over to the car. Her headlights shined against the back of the car. It was a cream colored, two-door Mini Cooper. Looked to be brand new. Focus, Emily! You’re stranded in the middle of bum-fuck Egypt. It’s not the time to be checking out cars.

She tapped on the window. The window came down slowly. The rain welcomed itself into the driver’s car. Strands of dark hair whipped around in the car. It was a woman. Her hands clutched the steering wheel. She appeared to be nervous.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry my big ass was out in the road. My damn car just up and stopped and I’m completely lost.” The woman looked familiar. “Wait, Don’t I know you?” The woman sat quietly looking up at her.

“Yeah... the November write-in, right? It’s Sara... Thelma... Louise,” Emily rambled hoping the driver would stop her at one of the names. Ugh. Why can’t I remember human names like I remember Mr. Luck and Bruce’s name? Emily cursed to herself.

“Selma Alvar... and I recognized your bumper sticker. What are you doing out here?”

“I was heading for Romancing the Mitten, until Bitching Betty, which is what I call my car, sputtered and died.”

“I’m heading there too... How did we not know each other was going?” The woman laughed. 

“Wait, did your GPS get you lost and then lose signal too?” She asked Emily. 

“Yeah, and my phone is dead so I couldn’t call and try to get some help. Normally I can repair the car on my own and at least make it to a house or town, but I think it is one hundred percent dead this time.”

“Well, you can use my phone...” Selma grabbed her cell phone and swiped at the screen. “Fuck, still no signal,” she cursed. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m no help.”

Emily looked back at her dead car. There was no chance of her fixing it tonight, especially in the pouring down rain. She sighed, then turned to Selma.

“Bitching Betty is dead... can you give me a ride?” It wasn’t like Emily to ask for help; however, she didn’t like the idea of being stranded in the middle of nowhere. If she could at least get to a town, then she could figure out this mess and be back on the road in no time. 

Selma glanced at her dash, then back at Emily. The woman was clearly nervous about giving a complete stranger a ride. Emily couldn’t blame her. Especially, in this day and age.

“I promise I’m not a serial killer,” she said in an attempt to ease the nerves between both women. A strong gust of wind blew past. It flung Emily’s hair every which way before going about its evening. 

“I'm sorry, I didn’t... I only... well, I’m worried about the delay,” Selma sighed. “But, don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t think of leaving you here on the side of the road. Get in and we’ll see if I can find you some help.”

“Thank you! I just need to get my things.” Emily took off towards her car before Selma had a change of heart. Emily grabbed her purse, phone, and charger from inside the car, then locked up before going to the back of the car. She popped the trunk. 

As quick as she could, she grabbed her Hello Kitty suitcase, hygiene bag, and box of book signing stuff. When she saw the Mini Cooper backing up towards Bitching Betty, she couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief. The less distance between the two cars the better.

Emily slammed the trunk then she made a dash over to the driver’s side of the Mini Cooper. The window was still part way down.

“Can you—” Emily began. Selma screamed. She hadn’t heard or seen Emily walk up. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No worries. I just didn’t see you leave your car.”

“I was getting my stuff out of the trunk, but I need you to open yours so I can put it in... I don’t want the books to get soaked.”

“Um, that might be a problem... you do realize that this is a two-door, hatchback Mini Cooper right?”

“Yeah.” Emily let out a sigh of frustration. Authors weren’t known for packing light when they traveled to a book signing. Emily had packed a lot but compressed it all down to air-tight bags and one box. Another of the few things Emily’s father had taught her how to do was condensed packing. Her father had been in the Army. Family trips were strict on how much was allowed in the 1990 Dodge Caravan. Emily learned at an early age how to fit everything in one bag and how to wear multiple outfits to save space.

Emily gazed at the woman in front of her. Selma didn’t give the vibe of being an Army brat nor did she give off the vibe of being a tomboy. Emily had a feeling Selma had brought just about everything but the kitchen sink. And even that was questionable.  

“Well, it doesn’t have much space and I already have all of my stuff in here. I doubt there is any room left.”

“Damn. I don’t want to leave my stuff here.” Emily glanced over her shoulder. “Can you open the back and let me see if I can fit at least some of my things in there?” She pleaded. She didn’t want to leave any of her stuff in her car. She needed it all for the book signing. 

“All right,” Selma reluctantly agreed then popped open the hatchback. She reached for the door handle. 

“No, no...” Emily stopped her. “There is no need for you to get soaked.”

Selma seemed hesitant about letting Emily put her stuff in the trunk by herself. However, she dropped her hand to her lap and sat back in her seat. Emily ran to the back of Selma’s car. The trunk was already open and the rain making its way inside. Emily frantically wanted to get her stuff into the trunk before the rain ruined both author’s books. 

As expected, Selma hadn’t packed light. Emily didn’t see the kitchen sink, but she had a feeling if she moved a few things she may find it. 

Emily kept the hatchback as low as possible to keep the rain from getting on Selma’s belongings. Emily knew she'd be pissed if some stranger got her stuff all wet after she was nice enough to give them a ride.

Carefully, she moved Selma’s belongings around to make room for her suitcase. There was no way the box would fit. It would have to ride shotgun with her. Once the suitcase was in nicely, she closed the hatchback and ran around to the passenger’s side with the box in her arms. She did her best to motion to Selma to unlock the door. 

Click.

Emily opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. She felt bad getting the woman’s car wet, but she didn’t have much of a choice. 

She quickly closed the door then positioned the box comfortably on her lap. She didn’t realize how huge the box was until she tried looking out the windshield. She could barely see anything.

Emily reached for the seatbelt but had no luck reaching it around the box. With the box between her and the dash, she doubted she’d move if the car came to a sudden stop. She was wedged pretty good between the box and seat.

“I can’t buckle my seatbelt but I doubt it would make any difference. I’m not going anywhere,” she laughed.

“It’s the law. I’m not sure that this is legal to have a box like that in your lap either,” Selma lectured.

“I’m not leaving my books and there is no room to put them anywhere else in this tin can.” Emily instantly regretted her choice of words. Selma had been nice enough to give her a ride and Emily was now insulting the woman’s car.

Selma looked like she wanted to say something. Instead, she grabbed the gear shifter and slid the car into drive. 

“Thanks,” Emily whispered. She was still embarrassed about her lack of manners. “My name is Emily, in case your memory is as bad as mine.” Selma looked at Emily and gave a half smile, then went back to paying attention to the road.

“So, what do you write, Emily?” Oh! Good! Shop talk! Emily thought enthusiastically. She loved talking about books.

“Paranormal romance. And, you?”

“Really? I write paranormal romance, too. How come we never connected more at the write-in? It makes no sense that we wouldn’t have at least followed each other on social media and kept in touch.”

Emily thought about Selma’s words. Most authors in the same genre linked up together on social media. Facebook at the least. However, Emily and Selma had just had a general conversation. Emily couldn’t even remember either of them mentioning their preferred writing genre. As far as other write-ins, Emily hadn’t been able to make it to hardly any. 

“I haven’t been able to go to many write-ins. I wish I could have,” Emily shrugged. “But between moving to a new city and having a new job as a vet tech my budget was a little tight. Ya know.”

“Oh, I definitely understand about a tight budget. I bought this car only two months ago and there‘s little left over for anything else. This signing is my one big splurge and I need it to be successful. I have to make these connections so I can sell some books.

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Emily laughed.

It surprised Emily at how nice the chat was with Selma. They had a lot in common as far as being an indie author. Time was passing by nicely; however, Emily couldn’t help but notice there was still no sign of civilization. No other cars. No houses. No towns. Nothing. Where in the hell were you taking me, GPS? she thought to herself. 

As though life was answering her question about where the GPS was trying to take her, Emily spotted a glow off in the distance. 

“Hey,” Emily stated pointing towards it. “Do you see that glow?”

Selma slowed the car down and looked to where Emily was pointing. They gave each other a smile. They had finally found civilization.