New Mexico

(Earth)

2017

"—gonna save me, call me baby, run her hands through my hair!"

The girls weren't so much singing the words as they were shouting them over the wind that rushed past their car. Had anyone been around, they likely would've grumbled something about "Stupid teenagers being disruptive," but it was in the middle of an empty highway, in an equally empty desert.

And it was one in the morning.

"She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily, but yet she wouldn't care!"

Lorna's throat burned from a combination of the wind and "singing," so she took her eyes off the road for a brief second to grab her drink.

"We'll steal her cooper, it'll be super—" Sprout improvised, fixing her with a grin, "—find some dudes we can screw—"

Lorna reached over blindly to smack her, "Shut up, dude!"

Sprout avoided the attempt, laughing all the way, "Watch the road! I'm gonna be pissed if we made it this far to die!"

"I am watching the road!" Lorna shouted to be heard over the music, but it ended up much louder than they both expected; the car's radio fizzed with static, cutting off the song.

Lorna groaned, finally yanking her phone up from the cup holder, "Why the actual hell does it keep doing this?!"

"The Bluetooth must be messing up," Sprout offered, "Since we're out in the middle of nowhere."

"That shouldn't have anything to do with it, though!"

Unwilling to invite more frustration, Lorna just pocketed her phone with a huff.

"I can try to get my phone working," Sprout offered, already scrolling through her music.

"Mine's almost dead," Lorna said, "Maybe you should save your battery. So we can call someone if we need to."

Sprout gave her a flat look, "Call who? My mom?"

Lorna huffed, "Or my parents?" As an afterthought, she took a hand off the wheel and repeated, with air quotes, "Parents."

Pity replaced Sprout's unamusement, and she turned off the fizzing radio. All that was left was the wind and the engine—and a whole lot of unwelcomed, uncomfortable silence.

"You goo—"

"I'm waiting for you to finish the little rhyme you had going," Lorna interrupted as if she hadn't heard Sprout speaking.

"Man I dunno." She took Lorna's drink for herself, "I was just making stuff up."

A pause. She spit the drink out of the car.

"This tastes like the floor of a snow cone truck."

"And how would you know that?"

"I don't tell you everything."

"It keeps me from falling asleep and driving us into a cactus, so whatever."

"Or I could just drive."

"I'm fine. Finish the rhyme."

Sprout rolled her eyes, "You do it."

"I don't do wordplay as good as you." Lorna looked away from the empty road again, "Come on, dude."

Her request was ignored as Sprout reclined in her seat, propping her feet up on the dashboard of the car.

"Watch the road, Cloverhead."

The nickname was met with a clipped tone, "Don't call me that."

"I don't now why you're so embarrassed by it. If my hair grew in that color, I'd be frickin' flaunting it."

Lorna didn't reply.

"Your roots are showing, by the way. So."

She made a mental note to pick up hair dye at their next stop. And continued to withhold a reply.

Sprout stared at the passing desert. It was just a blur of dark shapes, none of which interested her.

"When do you wanna stop for the night?" She made every effort to sound casual.

"… Probably in an hour," Lorna answered, her tone much the same, "We'll put the hood thing up and sleep at the next rest stop."

"Some good it's gonna do protecting us from Chupacabras."

"Whatever."

"Don't "whatever" me, I totally saw one—"

"That was a goddamn opossum!"

"Opossums. Don't. Eat. Deer!"

Lorna just grinned and squinted to read the upcoming sign in the darkness.

Rest Area – 11 Miles.

Sprout pulled out her phone and started to tap something out, "If not a Chupacabra, we'll just get abducted by aliens."

"God I wish."

"I mean, New Mexico is the alien state, right?" Sprout continued, "That or New York, with the whole—"

"Yeah, the whole invasion thing." It was followed by a hiss of a breath, "Jeez, what was that? Like, five years ago?"

"I think so."

"Seventh grade. That's so long ago."

"Right?"

"But hey, if we do see aliens, we can just call in the Avengers to save our asses."

Sprout laughed, "What, you got Captain America on Snapchat?"

"Oh yeah, we meet up for coffee."

"Think he can get me Black Widow's number?"

Lorna just rolled her eyes and kept driving. The speedometer called her out with a bright "85," so she ignored it.

"… hey."

"What."

"I finished the rhyme."

"Tell me."

Sprout shifted in her seat, sitting up and brushing the tangled bangs out of her face.

"Alright, so we got: we'll steal her cooper, it'll be super, find some—"

"I know that part." Lorna stuck out her tongue, "The rest, Kanye."

"Gimme a second, jeez."

The taunt didn't sound sarcastic; instead, it was almost… nervous.

Stage fright? That's new.

Lorna peered over briefly, but Sprout was looking ahead at the road.

"Dude?"

"And… then the rest is something like: But we won't need 'em, I got a green thumb, makes me perfect for—"

A sudden chorus of beeping erupted from the car, making them both jump.

"What the f—"

Then the radio shrieked to life, blaring static like a hurricane.

On instinct, Lorna slammed on the brakes—and flung out an arm to stop her friend from smashing into the windshield.

The screech of tires joined the cacophony of sound, and when they finally stopped, they were parallel to the road, which now sported a new set of angry black tire tracks.

While Lorna forced the car into park and ripped out the key, Sprout hastily turned off the radio, then stared at her with wide eyes. They were so round and white, it was almost possible to look in and read the thought "We almost died" as it passed through her brain.

Her mouth opened as if to speak—

"Wear your goddamn seatbelt!" Lorna beat her to the chase, sounding almost hysterical as she did.

The girls just looked at each other in the following silence. Just the breeze and nothing else.

"… what happened?"

Lorna put the key back in place, ready to turn it on again.

She didn't have to.

The engine light blinked. The turn signals—both of them—blinked. The battery light, passenger seatbelt light, engine temperature light—every light on the dashboard flashed in rapid succession. The speedometer began to move, even though the car didn't.

Sprout reached for the keys, "Turn it off."

Lorna caught her hand before it could get there, "It's not—"

"Lorna turn it off—"

The radio, previously off, started to shriek with static again.

"Lorna turn off the car—"

Suddenly, from above them, a light appeared. On a scale of cheap glow in the dark stars to the noonday sun, it was a solid stadium floodlight. They looked up on instinct, then shielded their eyes, blinded.

And then, by seemingly nothing at all, Lorna was yanked upwards.

"LORNA!"

Sprout latched onto her friend's wrist with both hands, and as such, began to vacate the car along with her.

"Shit!" She jammed her foot in one of the gaps of the steering wheel, halting them midair.

Lorna grabbed onto Sprout's other arm like a lifeline, dangling hair obstructing her view.

"Don't—" she stammered, "Don't let go—Sprout don't let me go—"

"I'm not letting you go!" She strained to pull them both downwards, "I've got you—"

The pull only grew stronger, and both felt their grasps beginning to weaken.

"Shit!" Sprout thrashed her free foot around, looking for a hold, "Shit shit shit—"

One of Sprout's hands slipped, and they both shrieked.

"Don't let go!" she pleaded, "Sprout—"

Sprout forwent her attempt at rooting them and instead grabbed for Lorna's arm again. Her foot in the steering wheel would falter at any second.

"Sprout don't—"

Something came over Lorna then: the reality of the situation. And what it could mean if she didn't let go. What it would mean for them both.

But it only made her panic more.

"Hang on!" Sprout cried, sounding closer to tears than Lorna had ever heard her, "Hang on I won't—"

"...Let go."

She froze. Then pulled harder.

"Sprout you have to let go—"

"No!"

Lorna tried to pry out her hands, but Sprout only dug in her nails in response.

"It'll take us both! You have to—"

"No! Screw you!"

They both felt the sudden give of her hold on the car, only for it to jerk them to an unsteady stop once again.

"Sprout—" Lorna tried to keep the fear out of her voice and failed, "Sprout it's okay just let go— it's okay— Sprout—"

Her friend's eyes narrowed. And she reached down to unstick her shoe.

Without taking the time to think it through, Lorna's free hand darted to the seatbelt. She jerked it across Sprout's chest. And shoved it into the latch with as much forward momentum as she could gain.

In return, she was yanked upwards hard enough to make her head snap forward, audibly. Her grip faltered completely. And Sprout lost her hold.

"LORNA!"

Her body disappeared into the light, and not a second later, it was swallowed up like a camera shutter. The dark shape above the car, humming with an ascending whir, rose up into the night sky until it was nothing.

Once again, there was silence. Except for the breeze. The final electrical beep of a now dead car. And weeping.

Thank you for reading! Hopefully this goes somewhere fun and I don't abandon it a third of the way through like my other GOTG story; here's to hoping. I'd appreciate any feedback you'd like to throw my way, good or bad.

"Jackie and Wilson" Hozier