NaNoWriMo enters its final phase, and I'm still here plugging away! Enjoy this latest chapter.
Damn I’m tired.
I used to think “tired” meant something completely different. You know, like coming home from work after putting in a few extra hours. Getting off that transcontinental flight after being stuck in “Business Class” for five hours. Trying to get into Philly on the Schuylkill during rush hour. The kind of tired that can be fixed by a nice, oversized glass of wine, a giant bowl of popcorn, and binging Orange is the New Black with your feet up and your bra off.
I wish I was that kind of tired.
Things are a little different nowadays. Your perspective changes when you develop superpowers for no reason, get kidnapped by someone else with superpowers, and then escape from a locked shipping container in the middle of nowhere. If you weren’t tired by all that, then you’ve got to roam through the underbrush for a couple of hours, tired, hungry, and in nothing but a hospital gown.
Now that’s tired. And not the kind of tired any amount of Netflix and Chill is going to fix. It’s the kind of tired that you can’t explain to someone else, or even begin to. There’s no way to make someone understand what it feels like – no way to do it right.
So what do you do when someone asks, “Oh my God, are you all right? What the hell happened to you?”
I decided to just tell the truth, as simply as possible. “You gotta get me outta here,” I said, limping down the small embankment to the road. “Some crazy fuck rammed my ambulance on the way to the hospital and fucking kidnapped me. I got out, but I don’t know when he’s coming back.”
I looked up at the driver of the Grand Am. He looked to be anywhere from his mid-twenties to his early thirties. He had a shock of light brown hair that was in need of a trim; it ruffled in the wind. His face was creased with concern and disbelief. He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out his phone. “Holy shit. Yeah, let me call 911-“
I shook my head. “No, please, we gotta get out of here.” I looked up and down the road. “This guy who kidnapped me, he’s scary as shit. Can we get someplace safe first?”
The guy looked at me for a second, obviously trying to figure out if I was crazy myself. “Y-yeah, okay,” he said. “Help me move this branch?” He grabbed the far end. I nodded, taking hold of the other end. Together we pushed it off to the side of the road.
“All right,” he said, looking between me and his car. “Um, it’s unlocked. Just let me…” he moved back to the driver’s side of the Grand Am. I drifted over to the front passenger door, watching him lean in from his side and toss a few things into the backseat. “There, it should be clear now.”
Heart pounding, I opened the door and slid into the bucket seat. My nervous savior got behind the wheel, pulling his door closed and buckling himself in. He took the Grand Am out of park and we started down the road.
I shivered in the passenger seat. “You probably think I’m crazy,” I said.
“No, I’m just… well, shit, this doesn’t exactly happen every day.” He glanced over at me. “My name’s Charlie. What’s yours?”
I hesitated.
Fuck it. The fewer lies I tell, the better.
“E-Erin.” I sighed. “Nice to meet you. Wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Charlie turned the heat up inside the car and I nodded gratefully. “Now are you serious? You were kidnapped from… what did you say, an ambulance?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I… God, this is gonna sound fucking bizarre. I was getting a ride to the hospital when my ambulance was rear-ended by some psycho in a pickup truck. The driver grabbed me and dragged me off the road into a van. He, uh, restrained me, tossed me into a van, and then drove me around for a while before dumping me in some cargo container somewhere near here.” I hugged myself, rubbing my bare arms. “I don’t even know where ‘here’ is, though.”
“Oh, uh, we’re… I guess we’re outside Scranton?” Charlie looked at me sheepishly. “I’m on my way to pick up I-84.”
“Scranton? Fuck. I was picked up in Wilkes-Barre. Listen, how far are we to the highway?”
“Uh, I dunno. Maybe five or six miles? There’s not much besides trees until we get to the on-ramp. I dunno what you want to do, I mean it looks like you need to get to a hospital or at least talk to the cops, but there’s not much between here and Port Jervis going east. Best thing to do would be to turn around and go back to Scranton –“
“No way, no fucking way, man. It’s only gonna be a matter of time before that fuck comes back for me. I can’t go back, I gotta go somewhere else. Please, just get me outta here?”
Charlie looked over at me, then shook his head. “This is crazy,” he muttered. “Look, uh, Erin, was it? I guess if you want to hitch a ride with me that’s fine. I’m heading back to New York, though, so it’s gonna be a while. I’ve got some spare clothes in the back seat, if you want them. They’re probably gonna be a little big on you, but it will likely be warmer than a hospital gown.”
“Oh God, thank you.” I turned around and pushed myself in between the front seats, rummaging around until I found a pair of gray sweatpants and a Marywood University hoodie.
I twisted back around. My hospital gown had bunched up to my midriff as I squirmed about but I didn’t even care – I just slipped the sweatpants on with a relieved sigh. I slipped the hoodie on next, sliding out of the hospital gown and tossing it in the backseat when I was done.
Charlie had been studiously eyeing the road in awkward silence the entire time. Finally, I settled back into my seat, feeling at least somewhat human again for the first time since that morning, and buckled myself in. “What’s wrong, Charlie? Don’t get that many strange women changing their clothes in your front seat nowadays?”
“No, I-“ Charlie stammered to a halt, then laughed. I found myself laughing as well, at least for a few seconds. “This is just the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s all.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” I said.