Page 67 of Bad Things Come in Threes
This is the start of a horror movie if I have ever seen one and of course I am in a dress that will not allow me move freely and crazily high heels.
Nathan walked over to my side of the car, “I don’t know what’s wrong; I’ll probably walk up a little to see if I can get a signal.”
“Are you crazy?” I all but yelled, “The first rule of any horror movie is not to split up.”
“We aren’t in a horror movie; this is real life.”
“Do you not see what is happening here?” I began but stopped when I saw bright lights approaching us.
A pickup truck pulled up beside us and the passenger window wound down to revealed a middle aged man wearing a pair of jean overalls and a white shirt.
“Is everything okay down there?” he had a twinge of an accent.
“Yeah it’s fine,” I said at the same time Nathan said, “We could use some help.”
We turned to each other and I held up a finger to the truck driver to show that I needed a minute then I pulled Nathan down until he was eye level with me.
“He could be an axe murderer.” I whisper yelled
“He could be our only chance out of here,” he retorted, “I don’t know about you but I do not plan on sleeping in the car.”
“If we die, this is on you.”
He rolled his eyes at me before turning back to the driver, “We could use some help getting to the nearest motel or mechanic.”
The driver looked like he was having a hard time controlling his laughter, “the nearest mechanic is in a little town about thirty miles away, I doubt you’d get him tonight,” he explained, “But there’s a motel about ten miles down the street, I could drop you off if you want then pick you up tomorrow morning and take you into town.”
“Why would you do that?” I know my question came out rude but I would take being rude over being dumped in a ditch.
“You must be from the city. We town folk look out for ourselves.” He smiled softly, “If you don’t want my help then that’s fine but at least I offered.”
“We would love your help, thank you.” Nathan shot me a dirty look, almost daring me to speak.
The truck driver got down and hooked our car up to his. Nathan had to help me get into the truck because I wouldn’t part with my heels. He muttered something about me being as stubborn as a mule but I was in no mood to respond to his taunts, I was busy writing down the driver’s description in my notes app should something happen to us.
Nathan got in beside me and when he looked over my shoulder and saw what I was doing, he let out a groan.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“We could die and I’d be damned if I didn’t let someone find out who killed us.”
He opened his mouth to speak but the driver got into the car so he settled for whispering in my ear instead.
“Sometimes, people do nice things because they are nice people.”
“Sometimes,” I whispered back with equal harshness, “People do nice things because they are axe murderers in disguise.”
“The two of you argue probably more than Marla and I,” we both turned to the driver in confusion, “How long have y’all been married?”
“Oh no, no, no,” I said at the same time Nathan said, “We’re not married.”
“You could have fooled me,” he chuckled, “I’m Darius by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you Darius,” Nathan spoke, “Thank you for helping us out.”
“It is my pleasure.”
We spent the rest of the twelve minute ride- yes I counted- in silence save for Darius’ whistling and my anxious foot tapping. At some point, I was very sure he was taking us deeper into the forest to kill us but I saw a lit up sign that read “Motel” and I let out a breath of relief.
