Damaged Goods Ch. 02

She found her way to a state highway that would take her to who knows where. She was completely lost, but that didn't seem to matter at all. Being on the run meant that laying down roots was an impossible task to accomplish. She could add two charges of involuntary manslaughter to her laundry list of crimes. The cops would have noticed the footprints in and around the accident site. Of course, those boys were going to kill her at the end of their playtime with her. Even if she was found not guilty of wrongdoing in the accident, her past would come to light at the trial.

And for her, that was not an option.

She kept trudging and trudging and noticed the landscape around her. It was filled the same scenery as before: flat farmland, wind towers, shelter belts, farmsteads left abandoned to the whims of decay and age, and empty fences with brown name placards decorated in a letter-hyphen-number format.

So much for the change of scenery, she wondered.

She looked to the west at that very moment. About a quarter mile from the road, she noticed a large yellow building surrounded by a high fence with barbed wire and tall spotlights. It was odd thing to see in a place where agriculture was the backbone of the economy. It looked like a small prison or the kind of place a sick, psycho killer would house his operation.

She looked to the north and noticed another grain elevator and water tower, another town like all the others, another shit splat on the map that nobody will ever notice. She noticed a clump of trees just off the road about a mile north of her location. The sun was starting its journey downward and she wanted to be up and on the move early the next morning.

She walked onto the empty farmstead and she noticed the dip that the land made immediately after that. There was a small river running through the yard just north of the dilapidated house. No wonder the owners abandoned this place so long ago. She opened the front door and noticed the garbage that was strewn across the floor.

It was the same scene as before: busted lithium batteries, ripped coffee filters, small lengths of rubber tubing and plastic soda bottles with missing tops strewn along the warped, cracking floor

"Another meth house," she stated while scoffing fate. "Another lucky day I guess."

She found a side room that was free of meth debris and she made her nest accordingly. She snacked on some crackers and chugged some of her water. She stripped down to her lingerie, wrapped herself into her sleeping bag and used her dirty clothes as a pillow. Her neck was sore for having slept without a pillow the night before. She was so exhausted that she fell asleep before the sun had even dipped below the horizon.

CRACK! BOOM! POW!

She awoke totally startled, unsure if she heard a car backfiring, a rifle misfiring or if the angels were bowling up in heaven this light. She suddenly noticed the blue light lighting up the entire room. The torrent was pouring through the broken window. She felt a little more at ease because her items were dry, but she was still dog tired. She tried to go back to sleep but it was fruitless. She grabbed her canteen and took another swig of water. She walked toward the window and watched the light show. At one point, she noticed a triple blast of forked lightning off toward the southern horizon.

She wondered if lightning really could strike twice in the spot.

And it did.

It did in the form of a soft thunder crack that came from only a few hundred feet away.

She heard the sound immediately and she put her shoes on. She looked out the front window and noticed the yellow glow emanating from around the car. The vehicle had broken down and had turned into the field turnout just after the driveway into the farmstead.

Her apprehension ratcheted up as she wondered who was in the car. She wondered if she should wander over and get a ride from the stranger. Was it even safe?

Still, there was a part of her mind that told her it would be all right.

People in this state tended to be of friendly stock.

She decided to throw caution to the wind.

She was tired.

She was lonely.

She needed a warm bed.

She needed a hot shower.

She needed a place to recoup for the time being.

And she had the capital necessary to do it.

She redressed herself and had her stuff packed up in record time. The torrent was still coming down hard and she soaked herself to the skin as she ran from the house toward the vehicle. She ran to the passenger side of the vehicle and rapped on the glass with the pinkie side of her left fist. The driver dropped the window as the rain splattered hard against her. She couldn't see the driver because her wet hair stifled her vision.

"Can I get in? I am soaked out here!" She screamed at him with pleading sound.

She heard the click of the door and she hastily opened it. Dropping herself into the passenger seat, she took a deep breath and pushed her hair behind her ears.

She looked to the driver and spoke her appreciation with a smile, "Thanks so much for pulling over! I probably would have died out there!"

The driver didn't react for the longest time. She stared directly into his eyes and he stared piercingly into hers. She started to wonder if her hasty decision had been the right one to make.

And then he spoke a simple sentence, "Delilah, is that you?"

She was stunned, nobody had said her name to her in over a week. She gave the same piercing look back to the guy.

And then she spoke a simple sentence, "Dylan, Dylan Good?"

And he laughed nervously, "Yeah that's me. Are you Delilah Galt?"

And she laughed nervously, "Yeah it's me. In the flesh."

And he smiled and stared out the windshield for a moment, "What are the fucking odds?"

And she smiled too, "What are the odds, indeed."

She looked out the windshield as well, and then it happened without warning.

A triple blast of forked lightning strikes occurred off toward the southern horizon.

And she thought to herself, lightning really strikes twice in same place.