Chapter 8
Just after midnight, I start to feel the repercussions of staying up too late last night. Of course, I hadn’t known I’d be evacuating my freaking town today, or maybe I would have gone to bed earlier. I yawn for the hundredth time and glance in my rearview mirror at Ella. She’s not keeping as closely behind me as she was before, and all I can see are her headlights. I wish I could call her, but every time I try the phone doesn’t connect. Of course, way out here in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly the best place to get cell reception.
After another annoying yawn, I shake my head and smack my cheeks to wake myself up. That’s what they do on the movies, but trust me—hitting yourself like an idiot doesn’t make you wake up. It just makes you annoyed. I’ve gone through three sodas from my ice chest since we left the house and now I’ve got to piss. It’s been ages since I passed any sort of civilization, and I look around now to confirm that no one will see me if I pull over on the side of the road to take a leak. There’s nothing out here, just darkness and land as far as you can see.
This old county road is proof that no one ever comes out here because the pavement is broken and choppy and hasn’t been redone in ages, if ever. I put on my signal and slow down, then pull over on the side of the road. Out here, there’s no paved shoulder or anything, so I’m on the grass. I hope nothing sharp waits in the grass to puncture a tire. I don’t have the time or energy to be putting on the spare.
I put the truck in park and go to open my door, but startle as a car blows past me. Why the hell wouldn’t Ella stop? Maybe she’s stopping in front of me?
I squint as I study the back of the car that just passed me, and my veins run cold. It’s a freaking Kia. A Kia! That’s not Ella’s Corolla. This whole time, the wrong car was right behind me.
I stand in the middle of the road, watching and waiting for her headlights. I know she’s not there, but some part of me hopes that I’ll see her car approach any second now, and she’ll laugh and say she got distracted and wasn’t driving fast enough. Or maybe she got a flat tire and had to change it.
Worry settles into me so much that I forget I have to piss. Finally, I remember, and I walk over into the grass and relieve myself. My heart pounds and there’s an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Why isn’t she here?
And who the hell was following me for hours if it wasn’t her? That car took all the same turns I did. Maybe they were just following the same made up route to get the hell out of here.
I pace the length of my truck while trying to call her, but the stupid phone won’t connect. I send off a bunch of texts and they don’t go through. Dammit.
I run a hand through my hair and squint my eyes and try to find her headlights in the distance. I try to will her to appear, so that we will be together again and everything will be fine. But she doesn’t show up. I lost her.
I lost my girlfriend, and a hurricane is coming.
I kick my truck tire and curse. What the hell do I do now? I’ve made a dozen turns since I last saw her in the daylight when I could clearly see her behind me. She could have taken any of them the wrong direction. She could be anywhere by now.
I should turn around and retrace my steps. That’s all I can do at this point. That, and keep trying to call her on my worthless cell phone. Why do they charge nine hundred dollars for these things if they aren’t going to connect to your loved ones in an emergency? Dammit.
I’m fully awake now as I turn around and speed back down the way I came. My eyes are wide open and I’m scanning the road, hoping to find her. Terrible thoughts race through my mind, like maybe her car broke down and someone kidnapped her.
I can’t stand the thought of something bad happening to her. My throat is dry and I crack open another soda can. I make a turn, and then another, and then I’m back in the small town I drove through an hour ago. The street sign says it has a population of seventy two people. There are a few cars at the only gas station in town. My whole body feels like it’s on fire as I pull into the parking lot and study the cars. Please,please, be Ella.
There are four cars here, and none of them are hers. My heart aches as I throw the truck in park. I’m trying like hell to be okay, but I’m so worried about her.
I tell myself she’s strong and smart and she’ll be okay. She probably realized she lost me hours ago and then found a map herself. Maybe she’s even at the hotel by now. I take a deep breath and jump out of my truck.
The gas station is open and a few people are mulling around outside. One cowboy-looking guy is smoking a cigar and a lady is leaning inside her car, laying out blankets on the backseat for her two kids. She tells them they’re gonna have to get used to sleeping next to each other in the small backseat and to stop whining.
“Excuse me,” I say to the cowboy. “Have you seen a Toyota Corolla? The driver is a teenage girl, dark brown hair.”
The man blows out a puff of cigar smoke to the right. “Sorry man, I haven’t seen her.”
I curse under my breath. “She was following me an hour ago and now she’s gone. I think we got separated when we hit some traffic.”
I take out my phone and try to call her, but of course it doesn’t work.
“Where you from?” the man asks. I notice that his plaid pearl snap shirt has the gas station’s logo embroidered on the chest. He must work here.
“Hockley,” I say, hooking my thumb toward the south. “We’re evacuating for the hurricane.”
He nods, like he expected that. “I’m keeping the store open all night for these folks,” he says, nodding toward the people who are hanging out in their cars. “You’re welcome to sleep here if you need.”
I sigh. I should sleep, and I need some rest, but I can’t do anything until I find Ella. “Thanks,” I say. “I gotta find my girlfriend though.”
I hold up my phone again, wishing it would magically get some signal.
The cowboy snuffs out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. “I got you,” he says. He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a thick cell phone. It’s like a brick of plastic with a huge fold out antenna and a digital black and white screen.
“Sat phone,” he says, holding it out to me. “It’s for emergency personnel and it’ll kick off other people who are clogging the signal so you can call someone in an emergency. Call your girlfriend.”
