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“Hi, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could borrow your cell phone. I lost mine, and I need someone to come pick me up. I’ll pay you for it.”
He looks me up and down—his gaze is neither creepy nor judgmental—before he nods and stands, pulling out his cell and holding it up to his face to unlock it.
“Thank you so much.” I take the phone and move back toward the table I had been sitting at so nobody can overhear me and place my call.
It rings four times before an irritated voice answers. “Who is this?”
“It’s me, Astrid.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Astrid. I’ve been going out of my mind. You were supposed to check in. I was two seconds away from making a missing person’s report.”
I hold back my snort as Mandy yells. She’s been so concerned that it’s taken all this time to report me missing when I’ve been gone for weeks.
“Well, as you can hear, I’m fine. I need a car to pick me up and drive me home.”
“Okay, which car and which home?” She sighs.
“Any car. Call me an Uber or a cab. You’ll just have to prepay them for me since I have no idea where an ATM is around here.” And I don’t want to use the cash I already have in case something goes wrong and I need it. Call me paranoid, but I’m not taking any chances.
“And where is here?”
I reel off the name of the diner and the town I’m in and tell her which house I want to go to. When I’m finished, I wait for her to speak again, knowing she’s taking this all down.
“You want to head home from there? It won’t be cheap.”
“It’s not like I can’t afford it. Just get me out of here.”
“Can I reach you on this number?”
“No, the phone belongs to a trucker who looks ready to leave.”
“A trucker? Fuck me!” she curses again. “Hold on.”
She keeps me on hold, but I hear her typing away and talking to someone on another line before she comes back. “Cab will be with you in five.” She repeats the registration number she was just given, like I’ll remember it, before telling me she will call me tomorrow and hangs up.
“Yeah, bye, Mandy,” I mutter as I walk over to the trucker and hand him back his phone. As my fingers brush his, a vision slams into me.
I grip the edge of the table as my legs buckle. The sound of smashing glass and the squeal of tires so real it’s like I’m there. I take in every detail I can before the vision fades and I’m back in the here and now.
“Is she okay?”
I look up at the voice and see one of the medical students leaning over me. Shit, when did I end up on the floor? The vision might have been over quickly, but it kicked my ass.
“I’m fine. Sorry to freak you out. I got a little dizzy for a minute. Low blood sugar,” I state sheepishly.
She looks at me, unsure, before telling me to drink some juice and returns to her table.
The trucker reaches out his hand and helps me to my feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod but stop myself, taking in the red and black checkered shirt he’s wearing, the same one from my vision. “I will be if you promise me something. I can’t tell you why and I can’t tell you when, but I need you to trust me. No questions asked.”
Tears well in my eyes as I pray desperately that he’ll hear me out.
“There’s a large truck carrying wood supplies. The company is called EN Holms Logistics. The cab part is green, and the name is scrolled across the top and side of the truck in black writing.” I shake my head for getting off track. “When you see it, speed up and move to the inside lane. The man behind the wheel is going to fall asleep,” I choke out, gripping his arm when he moves to step back.
“He’ll clip the back of your truck. You’ll spin and hit the guardrail before falling through it. Your truck will catch fire, and you won’t be able to get out because you’re gonna be pinned inside. I know you don’t believe me. If I thought I could get you to take a different route, I would, but I’m begging you.” My brain flashes to the dog-eared photo of a pregnant woman and two young boys that falls out of the visor when the truck flips.
“If you won’t do it for me, do it for your wife and sons. Please.”
