So anyway
I spent that night in Devil's Lake, North Dakota. I was worn out from my run in with Mr. Hyde, and needed to get off of the road for a night. I didn't get in until very late (or very early, I guess) and slept for a full nine hours. It wasn't until 3PM that I was back on the road again. Fortunately, it wasn't far to Minot and I hoped that nothing else would go wrong on the trip.
About an hour west of Devil's Lake, on a particularly barren stretch of US 2, I saw a car pulled over on the side of the road with it's flashers on. I wasn't in any particular hurry, and traffic was very light that day. Whomever was there might be stuck there for awhile, so I decided to pull over and see if they needed any help. I pulled rental my car to a stop behind the other one, and hit my Gov't Model in the glove box.
A moment later, the other car's driver stepped from in front of her car, and my jaw almost hit my lap. She was...well, beautiful. A tall, black haired latina, wearing a tasteful blue sundress and matching high heels.
It's like something out of a porno movie, I know. Beautiful woman stranded on the side of the road, guy pulls over to help....so yeah, I was pretty pumped.
I reached into my backpack on the passenger's seat and rooted around....my computer, some papers, pens and pencils, some loose rounds of ammunition, some old gum a...a condom? When did I put that in there? Who was I kidding? There we go! I found what I was looking for; a pack of old breath mints. Popping a mint into my mouth, and checking myself in the mirror, I put the backpack in the back seat and stepped out of the car.
Closing the door, I strode over to the beautiful woman, and went over in my head what I was going to say. 'Need some help, miss?' I was going to say, cooly taking off my sunglasses and looking her in the eye. And she was going to be all like, 'oh, thank you so much'. I smiled as I approached.
"Need some help, mi....oh, [EXPLETIVE DELETED]" Cooly taking off my sunglasses, they slipped out of my hand and landed on the ground at her feet. Realizing what I had just said, I quickly apologized to the woman. She bent down to pick up my shades for me; unfortunately, I bent down as well. Our heads collided and she was knocked back a bit, as was I.
"OH MY GOD! I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, wondering how in the hell I was going to salvage this. Smooth moves, Mike, I thought to myself.
"It's okay," she said, looking into my eyes and smiling. "My name is Maria. Thank you for stopping." Relieved, I smiled. My mind was racing; I had to say something that made me not seem like, you know, a complete loser.
"Y...you need some help?" I stammered. It was strange. Normally I'm not quite so inept with women (not quite), but she was so beautiful as to be almost intimidating. She made constant eye contact and I almost felt unnerved by it.
"Could you give me a ride to the next town? I forgot my cell phone and can't call for help."
"I....I have a phone. I could call...."
"It's okay," she interrupted. "I have family in the next town. It's where I was going. They'll call a tow truck. Could you give me a ride?"
Strange that a woman, travelling alone, was so anxious to get into a car with a total stranger, but I certainly wasn't going to argue. I agreed with a smile. Maria closed the hood of her car, locked her doors, and made her way back to my rental car. I opened the door for her, and she thanked me, smiling and once again making constant eye contact, as she sat down. I closed the door, and made my way around the front of the car, feeling glad that my apparent bout of clumsiness had passed. Then I tripped.
Laying face down on the asphalt, my hand stinging from where I had landed on it, I sighed heavily, and stood back up. I straightened my sunglasses and got back into my car.
"Are you alright?" She asked me.
"I'm fine," I said. "I'm just having one of those days." I put the car in gear and turned on the left turn signal. I looked over my shoulder, then pulled back onto US 2, accelerating to an even seventy-five miles per hour, and setting the cruise control.
"What's your name?" Maria asked me, almost staring at me.
"Parker," I replied, glancing at her occasionally. "Parker Hale. It's nice to meet you." As I drove, I found it difficult to concentrate on the road. Her perfume was nice, her dress was tastefully low-cut, and her legs were...well, I digress, but you get the point.
"I'm so glad you stopped," she said, touching my right arm.
"Were you there long?" I asked.
"Not long," she said. "I knew my white knight would come soon." Wow, I thought, she's being really flirty. Maybe this trip is paying off, I wondered.
She was being very flirty. Maybe a little too flirty? I certainly didn't mind, but it was very strange.
"I was waiting for you," she said at last. "I knew you'd stop, and I was right, wasn't I, Mr. Nightcrawler?"
Aw, [EXPLETIVE DELTED], I thought. I looked over at her, and sure enough, I was staring down the barrel of a nickel-plated Browning .380. I sighed again.
"Damn it to hell," I said out loud, whacking the steering wheel.
"Aww, what's the matter?" Maria asked, puffing up those goregous pouty lips. "Having a bad day? It's going to get worse, I promise. Turn right at the next road."
"Where does that road go?"
"NEVER MIND!" She shrieked. "JUST DO IT!" There wasn't a lot I could do. I had a gun to my head and my pistol was in the glove box. Even if it wasn't, there was no way I could draw a pistol and fire before she put a round through my noggin. So, when I came upon the turnoff, I did as I was told. The road I turned off on went north, and was as straight as the barrel of a gun for as far as the eye can see.
"FASTER!" She said, and I stepped on the gas, speeding away from US 2, into the middle of nowhere, at 75 miles per hour.
"Can I ask who sent you, at least?" I asked, not looking at her. She giggled to herself, but didn't answer. My mind was racing. I knew the score. Sooner or later she'd tell me to stop the car, then she was going to blow my brains out. I had to act fast. I glanced over at her one last time, and got an idea.
I floored the gas pedal, accelerating as fast as the car (a '98 Intrepid) would go. The speedometer passed 80, 85, then 90 miles per hour, and the engine roared.
"What the [EXPLETIVE DELETED] are you doing??" she asked.
"Go ahead, shoot me," I said calmly. "Killing the driver of a car you're in, while going ninety miles an hour is a great idea."
"Maybe I'll just shoot you in the leg to get you to slow down," she said flatly. Damn, she had a point. Then I got my second idea.
"You know," I said, glancing over at her one last time, "You're a very beautiful woman. We could've had something, you know? But you've got issues, darlin'. And really, you ought to be wearing your seatbelt."
I stomped on the brakes.
The car had anti-lock brakes, but the decceleration was, well, sudden, to say the least. Maria's head knocked off the side of the windshield, and she fell forward out of her seat, hitting the dash board. She dropped her gun, and I nearly lost control of the car as it skidded to a halt.
"I'm sorry about this," I said. I have issues with violence against women, even if they are psychos. I reached down and grabbed Maria's little popgun, putting it in my lap. While she was writhing on the floor, in a bit of a daze, I reached across her, opened the passenger's side door, and pushed her out. I tossed her purse out too, and it landed on top of her, spilling feminine hyiene products all over. She started cursing as I closed the door and locked it.
I guess that she had gotten her wits together as I began to drive off, because she started pounding on the side of the car, screaming at me in spanish. I turned the car around, and drove away, heading back towards US 2. A mile or so down the road I tossed her pistol out the window, and was on my way once again.
This had been a pretty rough trip after all, and I wasn't even THERE yet!
....:banghead: 
