Gus

12:55 a.m.

Mile Marker 147

Rest stop one mile ahead. I looked in the rearview mirror. Darkness. Maybe I can stop, just for a minute. Have to keep moving. A dark, hulking shape sat on the shoulder of the off-ramp. An abandoned, burned-out car came into focus. Streetlights lined the ramp. Security on duty read a sign. Maybe it won’t be too bad. A few semi-trucks parked along the back row. No other cars were in the lot. 

I parked as close to the building as possible. The guard shack was dark. Maybe they’re not on duty. I sighed, turning the car off. The darkness swallowed my car as the lights went out. “Now or never, Dani.”

I got out of the car, my knees protesting. Six hours since the last stop. I stretched my arms above my head. My back cracked in relief. Yellow lights dimly illuminated the building. I stood up straight, keeping my gaze fixed on the restroom sign. Someone once told me to keep my head up and back straight if I felt unease. That felt like the right thing to do here. 

Moments later, I entered the women’s restroom. The chemical smell of clean overwhelmed my senses. Overhead the fluorescent light flickered. In the mirror, dark circles enveloped my eyes. A purple bruise bloomed over my right eye.  The cut on my cheekbone had finally crusted over, no longer oozing. I splashed cold water on my face, smoothing my hair back from my face. 

I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to stop. I’ve driven over 800 miles. How far is far enough? I shrugged, frowning. I guessed when I ran out of money. A loud, shrill noise interrupted my thoughts.

Whistling? I faced the entrance, concentrating to hear more clearly. Pop Goes the Weasel? What the hell? Phone. I patted my pockets. “Shit.”

I left it in the car. The whistling advanced closer. In front of the door. It ended as abruptly as it began. Leaning on the counter, I willed my pulse to slow. I spun, viewing my reflection. “Dani. Cool it. You’re tired. You haven’t slept in 23 hours. Not since... Not since, Louisiana.”

My shoulders drooped. Home. I could never go back. Not now. I touched the cut on my cheek, flinching at the soreness. Never again. I shuddered. 

I hardly recognized the woman in the mirror. An empty smile graced my lips. I laughed bitterly, seeing it not quite reach my eyes. Empty. The whistling began again. My body tensed as I scowled at the mirror. What a dipshit to be whistling like a lunatic at one in the morning. My reflection winked at me, a smirk gracing her lips. I jumped back. “What the hell?”

I shook my head, refocusing on the mirror. The reflection waved at me. I yanked the restroom door open, scrambling to get out of there. “You’re just tired, Dani.”

Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. I rounded the corner and ran into a solid mass, stopping the whistling. Stumbling back, I found the source of the whistling. 

A tall, lanky man in a cowboy hat stood before me. He wore a blue flannel pearl-snap shirt, jeans, and boots. “Whoa, little lady.”

I tensed. The man smiled down at me with a cigarette in his mouth. Tufts of blond hair peeked out from under his hat. Mutton-chop sideburns lined his face. “Something chasing you out of that bathroom?”

I shook my head, not trusting my voice to speak. He glanced toward the door, then directed his gaze toward me.

I nodded and mumbled, “Nice to meet you.”

I turned away and hurried to my car. He began whistling again. I could hear him from my car. I wouldn’t waste my time talking to some guy who appeared like he belonged in the seventies still. Those sideburns. I shivered. I should get to a hotel room. Somewhere safe for the night. I tried my key in the ignition. The engine weakly tried to turn over. Nothing. I tried again. Still nothing. What the hell?

I popped the hood open and grabbed my phone. I could at the very least use it as a flashlight. Climbing out of my car, I walked around to the front of it and opened the hood. I peered into the engine, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong. “Trouble?”

I jumped out of my skin. He had come out of nowhere. I flashed the light in his direction; that weird, friendly smile still on his face. “Won’t start.”

“I can fiddle with it if you’d like. I’ve spent so much time on the road; most cars are second nature by now.” He shrugged. “If you permit me, that is.”

What other choice did I have? It was one in the morning. No tow truck was coming for me this late. I shrugged. “I can’t pay you.”

“I didn’t ask for money, now did I? Some people like to do things out of the goodness of their heart. Yes ma’am.” I rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine. If you can get it running, great.”

“Probably can. Just hold that light for me. While I work, why don’t you tell me where you’re from?”

I held the light up, trying to aim for his hands. My thoughts flashed back to when I was young and helping my dad. “Dammit Danielle. Hold the light still.”

“Louisiana.”

“Long way from home. I was down that way once. Baton Rouge. That damn traffic. And I've been a lot of places. Yes ma’am.” His hands kept busy and then stopped. “I gotta get some tools. I think I can get this fixed up lickety-split.”

He disappeared into the darkness. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. They burned from lack of sleep. Moments later, he reappeared silently. Holding the wrench, he resumed his work. “So, Loo-si-ana. Where you headed to?”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll know when I get there.” When I run out of money, I told myself. 

“Well then. You know, you can’t run forever, Dani.” My body tensed, but the light shook in my hand. How did he know my name? “How…”

“How did I know your name?” He grinned again, baring his tar-stained teeth. “Ah, well, I know lots of things, Danielle.”

I turned the flashlight off and pulled up the dial pad on my phone. “You going to call the po-lice?”

“Yes. You’re giving me the creeps.”

“Turn the light back on and let me finish this.” I quit dialing and turned the light back on. His hands went back to tinkering. I shivered. “Are you actually fixing my car, or are you trying to leave me stranded out here?”

“I’d never leave you stranded, Danielle. It was you or him. That much I know.” He rose, lit a fresh cigarette, then returned to fiddling. “The way I see it, it’s still you or him. He’s hanging on in the ER right now. Just barely.”

Gus chuckled, smoke forming a halo around his head. “Make a choice now. And I’ll take that as payment for fixing your car.”

“What do you mean, a choice?” How could he still be alive? I shot him four times. “A choice. You or him. Who lives? Who dies?”

“Didn’t I make that choice already?” I replied flippantly. “In a way. But it’s not final. Not yet. Like I said. He’s still hanging on. Now I’m here and I’m asking you. You or him?”

Gus rose, tilting his head. “You already ran 800 miles. You choose yourself; you can finally stop running. Settle back down. Make a life for yourself. But... someone will be back for you. Might be me. Might be a friend. Death stalks us all. Choose to let him live. Well, you won’t see daylight, Dani.”

He blew smoke in my direction. Aggravated, I waved it away. I’d already made the choice he had to die. I wanted to live. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. It felt wrong, but it was what I wanted. I suffered for months at the hands of that monster in ER. Why would I choose him now? “I choose myself.”

Gus smiled, the cigarette between his dirty teeth. “That’s my girl. Your car should start now.”

I withdrew, not lifting my gaze from him, then settled into the driver’s seat. I turned the key over, and the car cranked without any protest. Gus shut the hood forcefully, then approached the driver’s door. “Well, Ms. Dani. It sure was nice to meet you. Glad I could be of service.”

“Th... Thanks, Gus.” I closed the driver’s side door and watched as he disappeared into the darkness. I leaned my head back in the seat, exhaustion washing over me. What had he really meant? I looked at my phone. Three a.m. I closed my eyes, suddenly even more tired. Don't fall asleep here. My eyes shot open. What if he came back? He won't. I made my choice.

When I opened my eyes, the sun was rising. I surveyed the parking lot. Six in the morning. Still half a tank of gas. Keep going. Get as far away from here as I can. I pulled out of my parking spot and headed for the entrance ramp. I gathered speed and then looked at the passenger seat and hit the brakes.

A cowboy hat.