Camry

Walked all night. The moon as her companion and watcher. Then he too was gone.

Sunrise. Golden egg-yolk bursting over the horizon. She winced as the sun touched her cheeks. Clemens missed her Civy. My Civy…

A car rumbled in from the distance behind her. She stopped. Didn’t wave. Just looked. It drove ahead of her and stopped.

2000 Toyota Camry. Saloon. Faded blue. Dirty mudflaps. Engine running. Waiting. Dust in her eyes. She was still. It was a stalemate.

A head popped out. A young man wearing a baseball cap and had a mess of sandy blonde mullet and curly moustache. Black sunglasses.

“Girl? You okay?” He said. His arm on the edge of the car window. He was chewing on something. An easy smile.

Clemens paused, “No I am not…”

He noticed the bruises on her neck. Her tired eyes.

Ignition off.

“Did a vampire bite ya?” He said.

“I’m not a vampire. I’m a person,” Clemens said.

“Do you have a name, Miss Person?” He said.

“Clemens…” she said.

“Alright Clemens, you need a ride into town?” He said.

“You're not going to play gin rummy and lock me in a room?” She asked.

He laughed. But there was silence. She was dead serious. Okay.

“No Miss Clemens… None of the sort… My name is Brucey and don’t know how to play gin rummy,” he said.

“Okay…” she paused, then walked up to the car. She looked in the shotgun seat. A few McDonald’s and Arby’s wrappers. A bottle of water in the cupholder.

“Promise?” She said.

“Promise,” he said.

She opened the door. He had an easy free smile. Wild moustache like a horses mane. Young too. He wore a tank top and had arm muscles with tan marks.

Sat in the seat with crumbs.

“Not a carriage for a lady,” Brucey said, “but hope it’ll do until we reach Carrington.”

Clemens was looking at the water bottle. The drops condensation on the top.

“By all means help yourself,” he said, turning the key, and they were off.