Red Xs

The car screeched to a sudden stop on the edge of the empty road. Dust rose in thick clouds around the tires. The man swung the door open and rushed around, yanking at the other side.

“Get off, you shitty dastardly—” the girl’s voice cut sharp through the air.

“Get off my car,” he snapped.

She flipped him the middle finger without hesitation. He leaned toward the open window.

“Open the door, Darcy. This isn’t funny.”

“Come on, darling,” she taunted, chewing her gum and blowing a lazy bubble. “You don’t wanna play? Why so angry?”

Slowly, she opened the door, stepping out like the world belonged to her.

“You’re free to go.”

He stared at her. “Seriously? You’ll leave me here?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re gonna be responsible for me dying in the middle of the desert. Thanks to your mom for raising this man.”

His fist hit the steering wheel. He glanced at her. She was utterly calm, blowing another bubble.

“We’re not far from the farm. You can come back. An hour, at most.”

“Asshole.”

She started walking down the empty road, each step eating distance between them.

“How many times have I told myself not to trust these men-jerks?” she muttered. Fingers fished in her pocket, finding a bottle of nail polish. One nail got painted, inspected, and the bottle was tucked away.

The roar of the engine broke the silence. The car came racing toward her. It stopped with a cloud of dust.

“Sit down.”

“No.”

“Sit in the car. I can change my mind.”

“I already changed. You’re an asshole.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Not your business, smiley. But you’re not smiling anymore.”

“Because you’re awful.”

“You’re awful.”

He sighed and killed the engine. Stepping out, he grabbed her hand.

“Okay, I was an asshole. Sorry.”

She let herself be pulled back, sliding into the seat.

“That’s it?” he asked.

She smirked. “Yes. You said sorry. But you’re still an asshole.”

The engine roared again. They tore down the empty road, fast enough that no one else could be near.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Just forward.”

“You know what you’re looking for?”

He didn’t answer, eyes scanning the horizon. Tired, tense, raw.

“So…you don’t know? Wow.”

Anger sparked in his gaze. “Why, why on earth did I meet you and nobody else?”

“I’m your destiny,” she laughed. “Just kidding. You know this road has no ending, right?”

“You mean we’re going back to your farm?”

“No. Nobody ever comes back.”

“Maybe they found a normal life?”

“Look around, smiley. There’s no normal life anymore.”

Silence stretched. The sun sank lower, painting the desert in molten gold. Dust swirled around the tires like ghosts.

After a long stretch, he finally broke it. “I’m looking for the end… somewhere, something. Do you know what I’m looking for?”

She glanced at him, chewing her gum, a lazy smile playing on her lips. “You already have it. Yourself.”

He didn’t respond, eyes fixed on the horizon. “The end point… it’s only one for everyone. I know what it is.”

“And me?” she shrugged, calm. “I was just looking for someone nearby. Someone to keep me company. I’m happy you found me.”

He stayed silent. No smile. Only the faint tightening of his jaw.

After another stretch of the endless road, he asked softly, almost hesitant. “How long… have you been there? Alone?”

She tilted her head, eyes distant. “You have no idea… feels like an eternity.”

Sunlight spilling across walls lined with calendars—maybe fifty of them—every single one marked with red Xs crossing the dates. And yet, despite the endless counting of days, she looked impossibly young, brushing her hair, chewing her gum, untouched by time.

He didn’t see it. Only the car and the road.

She caught his gaze through the windshield, a faint, calm smile on her lips. “Crazy, isn’t it? Time doesn’t feel the same when you’re waiting… or when nobody else is around.”

He just nodded. The car rolled forward. The endless road stretched out before them, horizon folding into horizon.

They drove through the night, tires humming against the asphalt, headlights cutting through the darkness. He barely said a word; she barely laughed. By morning, exhaustion had claimed him, his head leaning against the seat, eyes closed. She was behind the wheel, silent and watchful, the horizon faintly glowing as the sun climbed.

Finally, she slammed on the brakes.

“I… I can’t see anything clearly,” she said, voice tight. “Is it a person… or an animal? I just… I don’t know. But I don’t like it. Let’s turn back.”

“Back where?” he said, voice tight with confusion. “Are you kidding?”

She pointed, eyes wide. A figure—or something like one—stood on the edge of the road, shrouded in morning dust. Its shape wavered, barely solid.

He squinted, trying to make sense of it, but all he saw was haze and light. “I… I can’t see anything. How is it possible?”

She stayed silent, staring straight ahead, unmoving.

“Let’s change,” he said finally. He slid back to the driver’s seat, and she took his place beside him.

“I still can’t see anything,” he muttered. “Maybe you’re just tired.”

But she shook her head, pale, trembling slightly. “No… it’s not that. I… I don’t know what it is. But I don’t like it. We should get back.”

“No way. We do not have a place to go,” he said, pressing his hands against the wheel. “The road… it keeps going. That’s all there is.”

She swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “But what if it’s waiting? For someone?”

“Waiting for who?” he asked, tension rising in his chest. He tried to see the figure again, but it flickered, bending in the light.

Her fingers trembled on the dashboard. “It’s not dust. I feel it… it’s alive somehow. And it’s looking at us.”

He laughed bitterly, half disbelief, half fear. “Looking at us? It’s a mirage. The road plays tricks. That’s all.”

She didn’t answer. Her eyes never left the horizon. The figure shifted slightly closer, still impossibly distant, its outline bending and wavering with the morning sun. He felt the weight of something immense pressing down on the car, the desert, the road.

And then, he realized—the road wasn’t endless by accident. And they weren’t alone on it.