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 at 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 fixed her with a grin, "—find some dudes we can screw—"

Lorna reached over blindly to smack her, "Oh shut up!"

Sprout avoided the attempt, laughing all the way, "Watch the road, dipshit! I'm gonna be pissed if we got all the way here and then just died!"

"I'm watching the road!"

The car's radio fizzed with static, cutting off the song.

Lorna groaned, 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!"

Sprout offered a shrug, and unwilling to invite more frustration, Lorna pocketed her phone.

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

"Think I'd rather crash," Lorna said, " And 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?"

"Yeah, or my parents?" As an afterthought, she took a hand off the wheel and repeated, with air quotes, "Parents, I guess."

With a click, the fizzing radio was switched off. All that was left was the wind and the engine—and a whole lot of unwelcomed, uncomfortable silence.

"You oka-"

"I'm waiting for you to finish the cute little rhyme you had goin' there."

"Man I dunno." She took Lorna's drink for herself, and promptly spit it out the side of the car, "Tastes like the floor of a goddamn snow cone truck."

"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 good like you." Lorna looked away from the empty road again, "Come on, dude."

Sprout reclined in her seat, propping her feet up on the dashboard of the car. Her shoes were old and worn, sunbleached, decorated with dirt and dried gum. But the same could be said of Sprout, frankly.

"Watch the road, Clovertop."

Lorna's silent observation was clipped abruptly short, "Don't call me that."

"Man, chill. If my hair grew in that color, I wouldn't need to bleach the hell out of it."

Lorna didn't respond.

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

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

"When did'ja wanna stop for the night?" She made every effort to sound casual.

"… Probably in an hour, or something," 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."

Sprout sat up in her seat, "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 big 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 like, 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 for coffee and shit."

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

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

"… hey."

"Mm?"

"I finished the rhyme."

"Say it."

Sprout shifted in her seat.

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

"Yeah thanks, I know that part. The rest, Kanye."

"Christ, gimme a second."

Her voice was notably tight, and Lorna tried to identify the cause- funny, for a moment there, it almost seemed… nervous?

That'd be a first.

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

The hell is this all about?

"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—"

The radio shrieked to life, blaring static like a roaring storm.

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

The screech of tires joined the cacophony of sound. When they finally squealed to a stop, the car was parallel to the road, which now sported a new set of angry black tire tracks.

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

"Lor-"

"Wear your goddamn seatbelt!" Lorna beat her to the chase, sounding almost hysterical as she did, "You could've died!"

They stared at each other in the following silence. Just the breeze and nothing else.

"… what even happened?"

Lorna put the key back in their place, prepared to turn on the car once more.

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 on—"

"Lorna turn it off—"

The radio began to shriek with static again.

"Lorna turn off the fucking car—"

Suddenly, from above them, a light appeared. On a scale of "cheap glow in the dark stars" to "noonday sun", it was a solid "stadium floodlight." They looked up on instinct, only to immediately shield 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 in manic desperation, dangling hair obstructing her view.

"Don't—" she stammered, voice choked by fear, "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!" Lorna pleaded, "Sprout—Sprout please-"

Sprout forwent her attempt at rooting them and instead grabbed for Lorna's arm again. She was able to, bit by bit, pull them closer to the seat of the car. Lorna was just able to grasp the seatbelt with her free hand, but it hardly made her feel safe.

"Sprout don't—"

Her shoe in the steering wheel jerked, but only an inch. The small, heart-stopping jerk seemed to knock something loose in Lorna's mind- a realization. It shook free and took shelter in her throat, stifling her voice.

She'd always heard that in situations like this, when you "knew what you had to do," people would feel a strange sort of calm come over them. But that's not what happened at all- Lorna felt, somehow, even more terrified.

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

"... let go."

Sprout froze. She stared at her friend, unable to comprehend the order.

Then, she pulled harder.

"Sprout listen—"

"No!"

Lorna tried to pry her hand free, but felt Sprout's nails dig relentlessly into the skin.

"Listen to me! It's gunna take us both! You have to—"

"No! Fuck you!"

Her hold on the car gave way once more, regaining itself with a jitter that didn't instill confidence.

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

Spout's eyes narrowed. And she reached down to manually unstick her shoe.

Lorna yanked the seatbelt across Sprout's chest, the movement inelegant, 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. Her grip faltered completely. And Sprout lost her hold.

"LORNA!"

Her body disappeared into the light, and not a second later, that too 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.

"Jackie and Wilson" Hozier