Las Vegas Bound

         Justine was tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, humming along with a classic rock station, somewhere between Barstow and Midway, headed towards Las Vegas. Her mind was so distracted by work and life that she barely noticed the fog rolling in from both sides of the road.

         As she tapped the brake to slow her speed the radio crackled and died, interrupting the late Tom Petty, expressing his undying love of Mary Jane.

         Pressing the power button she muttered, “I agree Mr. Radio, the DJ should have played Free Fallin’.”

         The radio was soon forgotten as Justine notice the fog getting thicker, and the yellow lines dividing oncoming traffic becoming less visible, and more dangerous. She pulled over to the side of the road and put on her hazard lights, hoping the fog would dissipate.

         Just then, the lights on her dashboard began to get brighter, so much so that Justine had to shield her eyes, and then, everything went dead. She was sitting in the dark.

         The first sound came from the passenger side, it was like a foot shuffling through the dirt. Soon, the sound was coming from all directions and she fumbled for the door locks. A heavy weight landed on the hood and another on the roof. She heard a cacophony of laughter, banging and crashing on every window and panel of the vehicle. She turned her head in all directions but soon buried her face into her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.

         The noise stopped as soon as it began and the engine roared to life. As she sat there on the side of the desert highway, breath erratic and her face covered in tears, watching the yellow hazard lights reflect off of the disappearing mist, through the many childlike, dusty handprints on her windshield.