Tyler felt a tightness inside.
Not Barbie Doll. Why not? Because she’s a good ten years older than Dan, and fat? I wasn’t exactly svelte and it didn’t bother him. At least he never complained.
And so what if Dan did have something going with Barbie? Why not?
Hell, they were probably just friends.
Five years. Face it, he’s been with plenty of women since me. Some of it must’ve been serious.
She wiped her sweaty hands on the legs of her corduroys.
What’s the good of thinking about it?
But she couldn’t stop. With a sick feeling of despair, she wondered how many women he’d taken to bed. Who were they? Did some remind him of her, and make him miss her? Maybe he never thought about her at all anymore, her image erased by a new love.
Stop this!
At least he’s not married. Or he wasn’t as of two Christmases ago. Or he had been married by then, but didn’t mention it in his card to Barbie. Anything was possible. He might even have moved again. Might’ve left Malcasa. Wouldn’t that be…
She was shocked from her thoughts as she rounded a curve and faced a green pickup truck. It was just ahead passing an RV, speeding straight at her. She hit the horn and brakes.
Nora lurched awake. “Holy shit!”
Tyler swung wide to make room, her right-hand tires spraying up dirt and gravel on the road’s shoulder.
The driver of the pickup smirked and saluted the brim of his cowboy hat as he shot past.
Nora gave him the finger. “Asshole!” she yelled.
Tyler steered her car back onto the road.
“Christ,” Nora gasped. She clutched her chest as if to keep her heart from jumping out. “Fuckin’ redneck scum-butt!”
Tyler took a deep breath. Her own heart was sledging. Her legs felt hot and weak.
“Fucker woulda killed us,” Nora said. “What’d I tell you? Pickup trucks! Put a bastard in a pickup, he thinks he’s King Shit.”
Moments later, a green pickup appeared in the rearview mirror. Tyler groaned. “He’s coming back.”
“You’re kidding.” Nora looked over her shoulder. “Oh, shit.”
“Maybe it’s not him.”
“It’s him. Oh, shit. Guess I shouldn’t have flipped him the bird.”
The truck bore down on them. Then it was tailgating, speeding along no more than a yard from their rear bumper, its horn blasting. Nora faced forward and shrank down in her seat. She made a sick-looking smile at Tyler. “What do you think, is he pissed or horny?”
“I don’t want to find out,” Tyler said. She searched the area ahead. For as far as she could see, the two-lane strip of road was bordered by brown, desolate hills and a slope dropping away to the shoreline. No gas stations where she might stop for help. No shops or cafes. No dwellings of any kind.
“Where’s the highway patrol when you need it?” Nora muttered.
“Where’s civilization when you need it?”
Tyler eased down on the gas pedal. The pickup fell away as the speedometer needle climbed from fifty-five to sixty to sixty-five. Then she was pushing seventy. She was on a straightaway, but she could see a bad curve in the distance—maybe a mile ahead. And the pickup was gaining fast.
“No way,” she muttered. She took her foot off the accelerator. Their speed dropped quickly. She gazed at the rearview, trying to fight her growing panic as the truck raced closer. It didn’t seem to be slowing. She braced herself for the impact. At the last instant, the pickup swung into the southbound lane and pulled alongside. Its horn blared like someone screaming into Tyler’s ears. Instead of passing, it kept even. The road ahead was clear, at least for now. She half expected the pickup to swerve and bump her, sending the little Omni careening into the hillside. Her foot hit the brake pedal. The pickup shot by, cut in front, and slowed. She mashed the brake. With a glance at the rearview mirror, she saw a Mustang bearing down fast. She was doing twenty, then fifteen, the pickup blocking her way.
“Oh, Christ!” she cried. She pulled onto the bumpy shoulder and stopped. The pickup swung over. The Mustang to the rear crossed the center line and sped past. The pickup backed up until it almost touched the Omni’s front bumper.
With a trembling hand, Tyler cranked her window. She elbowed the lock button. Through the rear window of the pickup’s cab, she watched the man take off his cowboy hat.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a gun handy?” Nora asked.
“Oh, sure.”
“I didn’t think so.”
The man scooted across the front seat. He opened the passenger door and climbed down. He didn’t look at them. He scowled at the ground as he ambled closer.
He was a big man, maybe thirty years old, with eyes that seemed too small for his massive face, and thick bulging lips. His jaw looked broader than his forehead.
“Fucking Neanderthal,” Nora muttered.
He suddenly looked up. His tiny eyes flicked from Nora to Tyler. His lips curled into a grin. He raised his middle finger and twisted his hand slowly as if screwing it in. Tyler pressed her knees together.
“Pig,” Nora said.
Using his middle finger, he gestured for them to come out.
Nora leaned close to the windshield. “Not on your life, shithead!” she yelled.
“For Christsake!” Tyler gasped.
Smirking, the man snapped off the Omni’s radio antenna. He swung it like a riding crop. Tyler flinched as it lashed the windshield.
“Shove it up your ass!” Nora yelled.
Tyler punched her shoulder. “Stop that! It’s bad enough! Christ, don’t antagonize him.”
He struck the windshield again. Tyler rammed the shift to reverse and sped backward, the car bouncing over the rough ground of the shoulder. She wanted to swing out onto the road, but a huge camper van was rushing in from the rear. Steering away to avoid it, she felt the car tip. She hit the brakes. The RV roared past, close enough to make the Omni shudder with its buffeting wind. She shifted to first, stepped on the gas pedal and let out the clutch. She heard a rear tire spin. But the car didn’t move.
The man, jogging toward them, stopped to pick up a rock the size of a softball.
Nora shoved her door open. She leaned out and glanced back and shut the door and locked it. “We’re hanging over the ditch,” she reported.
“Oh, great.”
“That rock, he can bash his way in.”
“I know, I know!”
The man hurried closer, rock in one hand, antenna in the other.
Tyler tried again to make the car move.
“Look,” Nora said, “he’ll just demolish a window and get in anyway.” She opened her door again.
“Don’t!”
She climbed out and stepped toward the front of the car.
“Nora!”
She leaned back, rump against the hood, and folded her arms across her chest. The man stopped jogging. One side of his mouth twisted up. He tossed the rock away, shifted the antenna to his right hand, and walked slowly toward her, switching the air.
With a groan, Tyler turned off the engine. She set the emergency brake and got out. Her legs felt rubbery as she walked to the front of the car. She rested against the hood, shoulder to shoulder with Nora.
About four feet away, the man stopped. His gaze roamed slowly down Nora’s body, then slid over to Tyler. She felt cold and sick inside. She tried not to squirm.
Nora said, “Like what you see, liver-lips?”
With a snarl, he whipped the antenna. It whistled by their faces.
