Issue #7

"Julia Red. But everyone just calls me Red," she introduced with a surprising smile.

It was surprising mostly because you were now 9 hours into the road trip. You had crossed the border a few hours ago and were surrounded by the Sonoran desert on every side. And in the entirety of the road trip so far, she had said more to the border guards than she had to you.

Maybe it was surprising because it was three o'clock in the morning and your adrenaline had finally worn off and you were nodding off when she spoke at last.

"Umm. Nice to meet you?" you stammered out groggily.

"We're going to stop in about 45 minutes. Fill up on gas, get some energy drinks. We should be getting close now to where Ms. Chandler felt the energy source," she stated matter of factly.

You rubbed your eyes awake and sat up straighter, "So what's the plan? Get there and find a hotel or something? Start asking around about weird happenings in the morning?"

She laughed. A discomforting sign.

"More or less. The bedrolls are back there. We should be able to find a good spot to set up camp. We'll feel out if there is anything unnatural out in the wilderness. Go from there."

You raised your eyebrow at her, "Do you have some powers that I don't know about? That'll let you 'feel out' a source of supernatural energy?"

"What do you mean?" she responded confusedly, glancing at you with an interrogative gaze. "That's your department. She said that your powers are really open to receiving a new ability or something like that. That you have some weird sort of potential for it?"

"I mean. I guess that's one way to describe it. But I have no clue what I'm looking for. The other power was just sort of given to me. I didn't like, go meditate under an oak tree until it came to me."

Her attention snapped back to the road as headlights rolled over the hill ahead of you. Another long distance traveler taking the long trek through the desert in the dark. It was a massive black SUV, passing you and heading off to God knows where.

"So if you can't- Then why did she even bo- Ughhhhh," Julia groaned. Her eyes snapped back and forth between the road and her rear view as a car rapidly approached you all from behind. Their engine roared through the night in a screeching dissonance to their booming pop music.

The bright green sports car rolled into the empty oncoming lane and passed you, two young women waving goodbye at you from their convertible.

The remaining trip leading up to the gas station was as awkward as the first stretch had been, except that she seemed weirdly on edge. Her eyes flicked back and forth, scanning for something. Her short nails dug into the steering wheel, picking apart old pieces of the cover and flicking them away.

You were closing in and she shook your leg to make sure you were awake, "Hey. When you get to the gas station. Fill up the car, then get me a pretzel, a Red Bull, garbage bags, and a couple rolls of paper towels. Okay?"

Made sense, even though she said it sort of strangely. She seemed like a pretty tidy person and like she would want to make sure that no trash ended up in her car. "Yeah. For sure."

"Awesome. And can you grab those bed rolls out of the back for me?" she asked, even more politely than her last request. Though her eyes were still more focused on the rear view than the road ahead of you.

You loosened your seat belt then reached back and grabbed the nylon apparatuses out of the back. They were surprisingly heavy.

"Cool. Unroll the orange one for me."

"Uhh why?" you asked, now a little confused.

She looked really agitated, "Just do it. I need it,"

"WHAT THE FUCK?!?" your eyes were wide at the machine gun sitting in your lap, tucked inside of the sleeping roll like a neatly wrapped gift.

"Yep. There it is," she grabbed the gun from you and looked you dead in the eyes, "Remember. Pretzels. Red Bull. Garbage bags. Paper towels. Now, take the wheel and don't slow down."

"RED! What the fuck??" you asked, as she swung open her door and rolled out of the car, MP5 in hand.

One hand grabbed the wheel as the other undid your seat belt. Adrenaline shot through your body and you began moving on autopilot, no time to even comprehend why she just jumped out of the car. You hopped into the driver's seat and closed the door as you kept the car going. You might not have understood what exactly just happened, but you had enough trust (or fear) in her to follow her orders.

The gas station was maybe another mile down the road and you pulled up to the pump, still cursing under your breath about what just happened. As you pumped the gas into the car, you looked around and saw that there was one other car here. The green sports car from earlier. But it appeared the owners were inside the convenience store.

Click. You closed the panel back over the gas cap and headed inside to get the items for Red. You were now a little bit more concerned for why she wanted the garbage bag.

Out of the store walked a vexing woman. Thick black eyeliner curved out into deep wings. Her hair was the hue of a raven's feather, falling down around her cropped leather jacket. She strutted to the convertible with the gait of a CEO ready to make an intern's life hell. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation or maybe it was the shock of the past fifteen minutes catching up with you, but either way you could not help but stop and stare as she walked by. She seemed to pay you no mind.

Shaking it off, you walked into the store and set about getting your items. The second woman from the sports car was in here as well. You attempted to ignore her as you went about your business, to little success.

Often in rom-coms, a beautiful woman and a bumbling nerdy male protagonist lock eyes through the bookshelves of a library. This trope would almost seem adequate for the situation you now found yourself in, considering many would describe you as bumbling or a nerd. And the woman on the other side of the trash bag shelf was, in fact, beautiful. A blonde with pouty lips and a smooth complexion save for the tiny mole on her cheek that only served as a perfect imperfection. But that was where the similarities ended to the fairy tale cliche, as randomly locking eyes was far from accurate. Instead, her piercing green eyes were staring at you with the intensity of a lion sizing up its next meal. And the dimly lit convenience store in the middle of the desert was far from a romantic library and more like a scene from a slasher flick. Unease bubbled inside of you.

She followed you as you walked over to grab the Red Bull and she picked up a drink of her own. Again, the desire to avoid confrontation at all costs was dragging at you to just ignore her, get your stuff, and leave.

But as she followed you once more without a shred of subtlety, you broke.

"Can I help you?" you asked abruptly.

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything gunfire broke out. It cracked the silence of the night like a rock splashing in a still pond. She yelped and jumped forward, grabbing onto your bare arm for support. You were startled at the noise as well, but stayed in place and held on to her as she recovered from the fright. The shots fired were a distance from the gas station and you had a sinking suspicion of where they had come from.

"Shit. I thought you might remember me. I-I've got to go," she said before letting go of your arm with a little static shock as if she had been sliding on carpet. You tried to use Investigative Journalism and see if you could glean any information about her, but she was either moving too fast or somehow blocking you. She dashed out of the store, not bothering to pay for her drink, much to the ire of the store owner. Strange, considering he did not react to the gunshots.

"Wait. Who are-" you called out as she bolted. You ran to the window and watched as she hopped into the passenger seat of the convertible. It peeled out of the gas station quickly and you were left confused, with a store owner now pointing at you and shouting in Spanish. You had no memory of the woman, but at the same time she was hauntingly familiar. You could swear you had never met her before. You definitely would have remembered her. And yet, there was a piece of you that could picture one thing. A memory that felt like it had just been unlocked from the deepest corner of your mind.

A memory of you down on one knee, looking up at her. Her hand was in yours, as you slid a ring onto her finger. Tears rolled down her face and she said, "I love you."