Chapter 2, Desert Fox

The desert was just fucking endless. On all sides the golden sands lay like an ornate carpet, spreading on towards the horizon. There was nothing out there, no visible signs of life bar the odd cactus. I drove past one or two ghost towns, the burnt out shell of a once thriving community: the wood had either burnt, collapsed or simply been eroded by the wind till all that remained was a dusty wreck. In ten years there'd be nothing there at all. I eased past a rusty pickup truck, the driver staring at my car until his eyeballs were popping out of his head. For hundreds of miles there was nothing but sand and rocks, and the faint heat haze on the horizon, which keep making me wonder if I hadn't just driven into another world.

One good thing about the empty road was it gave me a chance to really test the Aventador's V12 engine, which would apparently get me from 0-60 in 2.8 seconds and up to 220kph. With straight dry roads stretched out ahead of me, there was no better place for a test drive. For hours I smashed the speed limit as I drove through this barren wasteland, occasionally seeing another car, until I reached Indio and the first signs of life at the east of the Coachella Valley. I cruised through Indio and up into Cathedral City and Palm Springs, before leaving them behind in a cloud of dust.

There were lots more cars now, as people began their long commutes into Los Angeles and Santa Ana. A cop car whizzed past in the opposite direction and I hid my face as much as possible, remembering that I was still on the run. Would they still be looking for me in California already? I guess if word had spread far enough, I might be wanted throughout the states. Shit.

I stayed on the Interstate seeing that it would take me straight to LA, driving through Beaumont where the road turned north and took me up past Redlands. This was just the beginning of the greater Los Angeles area, which spread for miles inland and up the west coast. I went through the suburbs of Colton and Fontana, as the traffic began to slowly congest from the influx of commuters. Buildings began to appear, first small houses and convenience stores, and then a few larger out of town shopping malls. It took another hour to get out of Pomona because of some dick in a Toyota breaking down and then managing to block two lanes. Asshole. And then I was in Los Angeles, or so the sign said, the sprawling metropolis spreading its arms in welcome. In the distance I saw the skyscrapers in the city centre, and beyond that the Pacific Ocean, and Venice beach – I'd have to visit there again sometime.

Half an hour later and I pulled into a car park in South Central Avenue, and parked outside and Office Depot, making sure that I wasn't in a disabled bay or something. I stretched out my muscles as I stepped out of the car, having been cooped up inside for hours since stopping at that service station. I'd told that girl Angela that I worked for the CIA in a counter terrorism squad and had weekly meetings with the President and Secretary of Defence, to which she'd begged to come with me. I'd driven off whilst she was in the toilet, although not before emptying the register which came to about $200 in all.

Even though I had over a thousand dollars in my pocket, it still wasn't enough. Los Angeles is one of the most expensive cities in the world, and a thousand dollars would've bought me a box of toothpicks. I needed a job, and a place to stay. But right now, I needed a mother fucking coffee. I locked the Aventador and walked casually across the car park to the Starbucks on the other side. Although I was a wanted criminal, surely here I wouldn't be recognised. I mean sure the police department would've had my details: but I wasn't Nicholas Martinez, I was –

"Oh Shit!" exclaimed the woman who had just walked into me from the side, and hadn't been looking where she was going. More importantly, her coffee cup that she'd been holding had spilled down onto my t-shirt and coat as a dark, shit-coloured stain spread across me. The coffee was scalding hot, but I'm no pussy. The woman was remorseful.
"Oh my god I'm so sorry," she said in a silkily apologetic voice, "I'm really sorry, I was in a rush. Are you ok?"
"Yeah sure," I said wiping the coffee off of me, about to come out with a sarcastic comment about women.

But then I looked up – and boy did I look. She was easily one of, if not the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her brown hair was long and messy, yet fell gracefully around her perfectly ovular face. Her eyes were an intoxicating shade of green, and pierced my skin and bones whilst her lips were full and pink. She had a slight tan, which is to be expected in LA, but not to the extent that she looked fake. She wore a tight white t-shirt that said 'Sex Pistols' and had a British flag and a guy with a guitar, which showed off her obscenely beautiful breasts. On her right forearm was a tattoo that looked like Marilyn Monroe's face. Looking further down I saw that she was clothed with black skinny jeans that hugged her legs violently and her white high heels clicked against the pavement. I had the strangest feeling that I knew her from somewhere.

"Yeah I'm fine" I said, finally regaining my self-composure, "Don't worry about it."
"Look I'm really sorry, is there anything I can do?" I stared at her face intently, hoping it would help me remember who she was.
"You could let me buy you another coffee," I smiled, "It looks like that one's all out," I said gesturing to the almost empty cup in her hand. She laughed and visibly relaxed. God she was sexy when she laughed.
"That's really sweet but I'm in real hurry; I have a meeting to get to." She looked at me apologetically.
"Oh don't worry" I assured her, "But… sorry to be so clichéd, but do I know you from somewhere?" She laughed lightly, smiling at me which made the whole world suddenly seem a nicer place. No, just kidding, but she did have a lovely smile.
"Yeah, I'm Megan Fox." Of course. It hit me then; I'd been watching Transformers with the flock just the other week. And Iggy had a poster of her on his wall. And I think I masturbated over her once. I don't think I'll tell her that.

"Yeah. Sorry, I just recognised you from your film….."
"Yeah I get that a lot," she said still smiling, "Look I really have to go now, I'm gonna be late." She suddenly looked anxious to get away.
"Alright. Do you need a ride?" I asked as she started walking away.
"No I'm already getting one, but thank you." And with that she turned and strode off confidently down towards the city centre, her ass shaking beautifully. I watched her until she disappeared in a crowd of people. Damn she was hot.