Reply to my opener (email or skype).
Myka's long, dark hair hung to the middle of her back most of the time, but when the windows were down in the truck, the sides looked like they were floating slightly. The breeze felt good against her slightly tanned skin and each time there was any kind of bump, her breasts bounced slightly. Her deep blue eyes were hidden by a pair of aviator sunglasses, the reflective kind, not revealing her every move.
A gun laid on the dusty truck seat that had seen better days. There were holes plagued throughout the fabric, but the trucks appearance made no difference to her. On the outside, it was pretty rusted and beaten up, but it got her to where she had been and it's getting her to where she's going.
Looking in the review mirror, she saw she was still alone on this country road. It made her relax a bit more in her seat. Her left arm hung out the window, sometimes she curved her hand and made waves through the wind, but mostly it just sat there, getting tanner than her right arm.
She held loosely onto the stealing wheel with her other hand, at the 6 o'clock position. This road wasn't very curvy so she didn't need to move the wheel a lot. Instead her eyes scanned the horizon both in front of her and in the rear view mirror again. Sighing, she reached over to the broken radio and tried to turn it on, hoping somehow it fixed itself, but she wasn't surprised when it didn't turn on.
Myka's foot, covered in a pair of pink sneakers, pushed the gas a bit more, almost flying down the country road at 70. Generally she'd slow down, but she was running away, in the most calm manner. No one would know what she left behind. There was a scar, but her shirt covered that horror and she tried not to think of it.
But something inside of her told her to touch that scar and she did, almost automatically and felt the raised area. Though it wasn't cold, she got goosebumps and shuddered for a moment. Reaching over to the passenger seat, she grabbed the half empty bottle and finished it off, the whiskey burning her throat as it went down.
"Ahhh," she groaned and then lit up a smoke, inhaling it deeply and letting the smoke come out of her nose. It felt good to let harm come to her body when it was her own doing. Now she had that control. They don't have her anymore.
After finishing her smoke, she flicked it out the window and watched as it bounced once on the blacktop before she was too far away to see it anymore. This time when she looked in her read view window, she pulled it down to look in the bed of the truck. A body, wrapped up, laid in back. No blood stained the sheet. No claw marks were visible. Myka, for just a moment, remembered what happened.
It felt like only a second. It was a bit longer than that, Myka having gotten lost in her own thoughts. She swore she saw something and jerked the wheel trying to avoid it.
She jerked it too much. Way too much. The old truck lost it's balance even though Myka did her best to try to correct her fault, but it just made it worse. It hit the side ditch and the truck started to roll toward the unplanted corn field. Not wearing her seat belt wasn't very smart. Everything went in slow motion.
On the second roll, her head hit the steering wheel, knocked her glasses off so they could tumble in the truck along with everything else and completely put her unconscious. The bottle shattered, along with the window but being passed out, Myka couldn't defend herself against the shards of glass. The gun had fallen in the field after the third roll; the body being tossed out after the first.
When it finally stopped, the truck was completely upside down. Myka was still blacked out, only her left arm hanging out the window, just as it had been when she was driving.
Now she was vulnerable again.
Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)