Kim Austin's Story

They had set off from the last truck stop about three hours ago. Most of them were still asleep...or at least not lucid enough to talk. Under normal circumstances, Kim might have berated them, scolded them for being lazy or uncooperative.

But she was tired too, and couldn't blame them. The paper coffee cup from the truck stop trembled precariously in its cup holder, the murky brown liquid sloshing about unpleasantly. Kim didn't like coffee very much, but on days such as today, when she was driving at the crack of dawn, she needed it.

"Exit 16B, 16B..." she muttered to herself, nervously checking the crumpled up MapQuest directions she'd printed out before they left Chicago. She had distributed copies to the others, but they needed their rest. God help her, if they started rebelling over lost sleep. She'd never survive.

At last the exit appeared on the side of the road...across four lanes of traffic.

"Crap! Crap, crap, crap..." Instantly shifting to 'panic mode', and already hopped up on overly sweet coffee, Kim did the only thing she could think of, and cut across four lanes of traffic, inspiring angry honks from other interstate commuters, but not causing any immediate damage.

Safely on the exit ramp toward town, she chuckled to herself, and said in a slightly louder voice, "That's a way to start the day, eh?" Figuring that at least one of them would have been woken up by her unseemly display of automotive safety.
-Kim

(Ooops, messed up, please disregard)

Kim turns to Charlie in the back and smiles, "Good, you're awake. It was so quiet in here, I almost fell asleep."

Charlie didn't look very glad to be awake at this hour. Not that Kim blamed her; if it wasn't for copious amounts of Red Bull at the truck stop last night, they would have done much worse than skid across four lanes.

"Yes, and what a wonderful way it happens to be," Charlie answers as sarcastically as she can manage. Scowling as she shifts to a more comfortable sitting position and forcing the jacket off of her. "Do you always drive this way or is it just when your responsible for passengers?"

"I'm not used to driving, to be honest. My mom wouldn't let me touch our station wagon after I almost killed our dog." she smiled at Charlie in the rear view mirror, hoping she would perk up if only for a minute.

"How close are we?" Charlie asks curiously.

"Well..." Kim hesitated, "not quite an hour away." Which seemed the safest estimation she could make, given that the not-so-picturesque acres of shriveled corn stalks didn't seem to be ending anytime soon, "In the meantime, we can chitchat. You know how men are, they can sleep through anything," she glanced in either direction at Gerard and Monroe, winking at Charlie, inviting her to share in their little bit of female commiseration.

"Oh, and there are some funky granola bars in the box, under your seat..." she nodded toward it with her neck, "In case you're hungry."

Those bars weren't very good, but they were only two bucks each for a box of six...which was very good indeed.

Light snores drifted from the sleeping form of Monroe, his body was covered in a makeshift blanket composed of his tattered jacket and empty to semi-empty potato chip bags he had gotten from the truck stop. Flecks of crumbs dotted his dark shirt, a small dribble of drool trickled down the corner of his wide open mouth, and his glasses hung crookedly on only one ear. Suffice to say, the young man looked like a complete mess.

Though the sudden jerk of the car and multitude of blaring horns didn't wake him right away, the sound of conversation somehow did. "Wa's goin' on?" was the first thing Monroe mumbled, his mind still numb from sleep. He fumbled with his glasses to set them straight, and wiped away the waterfall of drool before glancing out the window. His eyes began to focus as most of his fatigue began fading away.

"What's going on?" he repeated a bit more clearly. He glanced out the window, suppressing a small groan. Nothing but dying corn plants. Lots and lots of corn plants. "Wait don't tell me. I think I already know the answer: absolutely nothing. Nothing is going on." They were probably close to their destination, but not close enough to bring Monroe relief. He was getting sick of being cramped inside this stupid car.

Monroe pulled his jacket over his face, trying and failing to get back to sleep. Giving up, he pulled the jacket down and halfheartedly extended a hand. "Pass me a bar," he mumbled. He was pretty sure that those granola bars were a quick one way ticket to food poisoning, but he was at this point too hungry and tired to care.

Kim noticed Monroe stirring in his seat, covered in food shavings and saliva, and therefore looking kind of like her mother's shag carpet which she'd kept since the late 70s.

"'Morning, star-shine." she smiled at him. Personally she thought Monroe was well-meaning but slovenly...and a hopeless flirt, to boot. But he'd been nice enough to volunteer to come on this little road trip with her, and Kim didn't want a mutiny on her hands.

"Charlie, could you get him a bar?" she asked her, "I don't want to get distracted again. You know how terrible those insurance claim forms are."

She was much too happy for this early in the day. She dreaded what might happen when she got off her caffeine high.

At Monroe's "lots of nothing" comment, she said, "If you look really closely, you might seen aliens with hedge cutters making crop circles. We can add it to the film for extra credit." she laughed if only to herself. She was much too happy...and besides, she didn't even believe in aliens. Ghosts were different. There was evidence for ghosts. All the 'aliens are out there!' people had were photo-shopped videos and the fourth Indiana Jones movie.

"Well..." Kim hesitated, "not quite an hour away."

Great.

Charlie sighs and smoothed her hair away from her face. She's about to continue their conversation when Monroe pipes up, having been woken up in the same manner as her. She looks him over for a moment and rolls her eyes when she notices he had been drooling.

"What's going on?" he repeated a bit more clearly. He glanced out the window, suppressing a small groan. "Wait don't tell me. I think I already know the answer: absolutely nothing. Nothing is going on."

Nothing was a little bit of an understatement in Charlie's opinion.

"Charlie, could you get him a bar?" Kim asked her, "I don't want to get distracted again. You know how terrible those insurance claim forms are."

"Sure, why not." Charlie mumbles. She snaps shut her compact with a sigh and grabs one of the bars. She tosses it to Monroe with little care whether he catches it or not. She isn't trying to act disdainful towards her fellows purposely, but Charlie never really knows how to act when it comes to everyone else.

"You know guys this is usually how horror movies start," Charlie comments. "I'd prefer Vampires over Aliens and crop circles though."

"What about ghost-alien-vampires?" said Kim, snorting in an unseemly fashion, "Like, you know the ghosts of aliens who suck blood?" She couldn't help thinking how absolutely wasted she must sound. This drive was much too long, and her eyes kept forcing themselves shut.

"I am so tired." she said at last, "But look, if you really, really squint, you can kind of see the tops of some houses. And it looks like the sunrise is finally starting."

It was, thin rays of pale purple dawn light creeping in through the east-facing windows of the car and shocking Kim with their brightness.

"Crap, I can't see." she fumbled for the drop down sun-screen over the steering wheel, remembering very well her mother's warnings not to ever touch it when she was driving. But she needed some way to block out the sun, or else they'd crash anyway.
*************************************************
It wasn't very difficult for Bill to figure out where the interstate-havoc car was. The gray van was the only car he'd seen on the road since he'd started out in his truck, and it seemed to be driving very erratically indeed.

Bill sighed. It wouldn't be the first time he'd have to deal with some drunk farmer who'd been out to late. But he didn't recognize the car...

He didn't have much more time to reflect on this, however, as he realized the car was in the wrong lane, coming right toward him.

Swearing loudly, Bill pressed on the horn with bodily force, swerving around the car, and braking as efficiently as he could on the side of the road.
*********************************
Kim managed to get the sunshade down just in time to see a very large pick-up truck coming right toward her.

"Jesus!" she screeched, stepping as hard as she could onto the brake and then frantically looking around at the others, "Oh my God, is everyone okay?" Suddenly she wasn't feeling so tired, "Christ...I didn't even..."

She heard the slam of a car door. The driver of the truck had pulled up just behind them and was now approaching them, looking like he meant serious business. In the bright light, Kim could plainly see the badge on his jacket.

"Oh crap, it's the cops."

"What about ghost-alien-vampires?" said Kim, snorting in an unseemly fashion, "Like, you know the ghosts of aliens who suck blood?"

"Hah!" Charlie laughs, "I wouldn't mind that." She yawns and is echoed by Kim's comment about being tired. She nods, and watches Kim fumbling for the Sun-Shade screen. "Uhm, Kim should you really be messing with that rig-" Charlie didn't get to finish her sentence as she jerked forward suddenly, without the aid of her seatbelt she had collided with the seat in front of her and managed to jam her foot up under it. "Jesus Christ Kim!" She yells out furiously.

She forced herself back, foot throbbing a little bit from being twisted but otherwise uninjured. She doubted any of them were seriously hurt from the quick halt, but she still feels a little stupid over having forgotten her seatbelt.

"Oh my God, is everyone okay?"

"Relatively, maybe a little shaken up though," Charlie answers without any of her earlier anger behind it. Now she was just grateful that it wasn't worse, her heart hammering in her chest.

Bill crossed to the van in three quick strides, glowering as mightily as he could manage. He wasn't sure if the blame should rest entirely on the people in the van, however...it had been year's since they'd touched up the road, and the line dividing the two lanes was almost invisible most of the time. Complain to the state all he wanted, they were never going to do anything about it.

With horror, Kim noticed the cop approaching them was limping. Barely registering Charlie's comment, she said, "Oh God, I think we hurt him! Crap, I need my I.D..."

She reached at once for her book bag, which was wedged down beneath the seat, next to a duffel bag full of extra lens caps.

Bill was not surprised to find that the passengers of the vehicle were all kids... well, young people who might as well have been kids. No apparent injuries were visible, so that was good.

"Ma'am, is this your car?" he addressed the woman in the driver's seat, who was currently rifling through a bag at her feet.

"Oh! Um..." Kim looked around frantically, "Yes. Um...well, actually it's on loan from my...from our school..." she beamed at the cop and gestured to her friends, "We're coming down here for a school project. College," she added the last word quickly, lest he think they were high school teenagers who'd stolen a car or something, "College project. University."

Bill looked at each of the passengers individually, "I'll need to see some I.D." He was ready to believe there wasn't any.

"I.D!" gasped Kim, "Yes, of course..." she looked urgently at Charlie and whispered, "Distract him. I think my wallet got stuck under the brake pedal." Which would explain an awful lot.

"I'll be just a second!" she hastily told the cop before digging back into her bag.

"Distract him. I think my wallet got stuck under the brake pedal."

"What?" Charlie asks incredulously, "Oh Jesus, fine." She whispers hastily, moving to roll down the backseat window and peering out at the cop. "Excuse me sir," She says to the cop, flashing her most concerned look at him.

"Are you all right?" She asks, referring to the limp. "It would be horrible if you were hurt because of us, I would just feel so guilty about it." She rambles on, a complete and utter lie but hopefully the cop didn't notice this. Charlie wouldn't be surprised if he did believe her though, she had often used this sort of tactic when she was younger to get her way.

"We should have been more careful, I just can't believe this!" Charlie puts a hand to her face, attempting a more guilty face, simply just trying to buy Kim some time now. "I promise we never meant for this to happen." That was probably laying it on a little thick and Charlie had to bite back a wince as her voice faltered. Maybe she wasn't as good at this as she was when she was younger.

Bill had to admit, he was impressed. No one had ever feigned concern for him to get out of a questioning before. He smiled despite himself at the blonde girl, "No need to worry about that, ma'am, I've had this limp for a while."

Involuntarily he glanced up the road a bit, to where the path curved sharply to the right to make way for a row of telephone poles. If you looked closely at one of them, the third down from where they were standing, you might still see the groove marks from when he'd run his own car into the damn thing.

"I don't suppose you're the same car that cut across the interstate earlier and almost caused a major accident?" he asked, already knowing the answer was yes, "That's why I was coming down here in the first place."

"Oh...yeah, that was me." said Kim sheepishly, at last wresting her wallet from its prison (she noted with distaste that there seemed to be a wad of gum stuck to it now), "It's not their fault at all... You see, we'd been driving since yesterday afternoon, and we only stopped once...in Kansas, I think." she took her driver's license from her wallet and handed it to the cop, smiling, "I hope no one was hurt." She really hoped no one was hurt. Her mom was a retired cop...she'd give her hell when she heard about this.

Bill examined the I.D caustically, "Kim Austin, age 23, from Chicago Illinois."

"Yeah, that's me." Kim realized she'd had her hair grown out since then, so the resemblance in the picture might not be as good.

"Alright, fine." Bill handed the license back to her, "And no, no one was hurt. Take this as a warning, alright? We might be a small town, but that just makes driving that much more dangerous."

"Wait...you're not arresting us?"

Bill shrugged, "I could, maybe I should. But no one did get hurt, and apparently you're down here for school." He'd heard a bit of gossip in town about some yuppie film students coming down to shoot a documentary about the old Shermen house. Not a very flattering depiction of modern-day Wichita Falls, to be sure, but at least it would boost the town's economy slightly in the midst of the centennial.

"Just take care in the future," he warned firmly, "I won't be so lenient next time."

"Thank you!" Kim could have run out of the car and hugged the grizzled old man right on the spot, "Thanks so much, officer, I promise it won't happen again."

"I'll hold you to that," Bill turned to go, but decided it was best he tell them one more thing, "And it's not 'officer', it's 'Sheriff'. Sheriff Fleetwood. Town's right up ahead."

He started for his truck again, saying as he went, "Enjoy your stay!"

Once he was gone, Kim breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh my God, that was the Sheriff! I didn't even know they still had Sheriffs! Oh my God..." she grinned at the others, "See, that wasn't so bad. They're nicer in these little towns, good ole' Americana and all that."

She put the car back into gear and set off, first putting the sunshade back up, just in case.