a cactus stood right behind her. She nodded uneasily, painfully aware that she was alone in the middle of nowhere, and this man was a complete stranger.
“Three-point-two-liter V-6 engine. Leather seats, I bet.” The driver poked his head out farther, studying Tess intently. “Not from around here, are you?”
“No.”
“You headed for Tucson?”
“Er—no. Albuquerque,” Tess lied.
“In that case, you're headed in the wrong direction. This road goes west.”
Tess gave a noncommittal shrug. “I guess I missed a turn back there. I'd better get going. I've got people waiting forme,” she lied. “Maybe you could just move your RV so lean—”
His eyes narrowed. “How long since you left L.A.?”
“A few days.”
The driver shaded his eyes, staring at the tangle of lace underwear spilling out of the bag on the passenger seat.
Nervously, she shoved the lace camisoles down out of sight, then pulled her jacket across them.
“Did you hear about the food riots?” His eyes took on a bright, almost fanatical gleam. “We read all about it on the Internet last night. Stick around and watch technology flame right into oblivion.”
Tess had occasionally listened to the radio on her drive, but she hadn't heard anything about food riots or power grid failures. “Everything was fine when I left.”
The man scowled. “Like hell. We've heard reports from northern Canada up through Alaska. They've had RTU failures on the offshore oil rigs, and shipping was closed down tight.”
Tess stared in amazement. “They must not have reported that on the radio.”
“Hell, no. Got to keep people quiet. Got to make things seem safe.” He made a sharp gesture with one hand. “Damned government says jump and the press can't move fast enough. The big cities are going next. Damned scavengers will be roaming the country like animals. You got a rifle with you?”
Tess swallowed hard. “Gee, I knew there was something I forgot to pack. I only took my pistol and ammo.”
His eyes focused, probing Tess and the dusty car. “You sure you're not lost?”
“Not a chance. I know these roads like the back of my hand. But my friends are waiting, and I don't want to be late, so I'd appreciate it if you'd back out of my way.”
He didn't move. “Real nice car,” he drawled. “Pretty lonely place for a woman to be driving a sporty little thing like that.”
Tess felt her heart slam against her chest. “Heck, no. Me and my pistol, we're a team. Nobody's going to mess with us.”
He smiled as he opened his door.
Tess didn't wait any longer. Her hands were shaking as she whipped backward and made a ragged U-turn, taking off the edge of a cactus and a chunk of paint in the process, and then sped down a narrow dirt road with her gas pedal to the floor. The Mercedes banged along the lonely road, washboard grooves making her teeth rattle. She took a quick glimpse at her map, then made a hard right onto a single-lane paved road. She checked the mirror and gave a sigh of relief when she saw that the RV had disappeared. Only then did real panic kick in.
Her hands began to shake so hard that she careened off the road into the dirt, while gravel spun up in a cloud. Suddenly the rear tires hissed, then mired down tight.
Tess slammed into reverse, her back tires smoking as they spun up dry sand and slip rock. She shot the gear into low and gunned the motor, her foot to the floor.
No luck. The tires screamed, but the car didn't move.
Finally Tess shoved the car into park and got out, staring down at the front wheel buried up to the axle in powdery sand.
Stuck solid.
Just perfect.
She turned, glaring out at the horizon. She was miles from any major city, the victim of a map that was probably years out of date. Behind her a dirt road snaked over boulders and twisted hills, shimmering in a heat haze like one of the vintage movies she'd loved.
It would have been wonderful if she had been sitting in an air-conditioned theater enjoying the
“Three-point-two-liter V-6 engine. Leather seats, I bet.” The driver poked his head out farther, studying Tess intently. “Not from around here, are you?”
“No.”
“You headed for Tucson?”
“Er—no. Albuquerque,” Tess lied.
“In that case, you're headed in the wrong direction. This road goes west.”
Tess gave a noncommittal shrug. “I guess I missed a turn back there. I'd better get going. I've got people waiting forme,” she lied. “Maybe you could just move your RV so lean—”
His eyes narrowed. “How long since you left L.A.?”
“A few days.”
The driver shaded his eyes, staring at the tangle of lace underwear spilling out of the bag on the passenger seat.
Nervously, she shoved the lace camisoles down out of sight, then pulled her jacket across them.
“Did you hear about the food riots?” His eyes took on a bright, almost fanatical gleam. “We read all about it on the Internet last night. Stick around and watch technology flame right into oblivion.”
Tess had occasionally listened to the radio on her drive, but she hadn't heard anything about food riots or power grid failures. “Everything was fine when I left.”
The man scowled. “Like hell. We've heard reports from northern Canada up through Alaska. They've had RTU failures on the offshore oil rigs, and shipping was closed down tight.”
Tess stared in amazement. “They must not have reported that on the radio.”
“Hell, no. Got to keep people quiet. Got to make things seem safe.” He made a sharp gesture with one hand. “Damned government says jump and the press can't move fast enough. The big cities are going next. Damned scavengers will be roaming the country like animals. You got a rifle with you?”
Tess swallowed hard. “Gee, I knew there was something I forgot to pack. I only took my pistol and ammo.”
His eyes focused, probing Tess and the dusty car. “You sure you're not lost?”
“Not a chance. I know these roads like the back of my hand. But my friends are waiting, and I don't want to be late, so I'd appreciate it if you'd back out of my way.”
He didn't move. “Real nice car,” he drawled. “Pretty lonely place for a woman to be driving a sporty little thing like that.”
Tess felt her heart slam against her chest. “Heck, no. Me and my pistol, we're a team. Nobody's going to mess with us.”
He smiled as he opened his door.
Tess didn't wait any longer. Her hands were shaking as she whipped backward and made a ragged U-turn, taking off the edge of a cactus and a chunk of paint in the process, and then sped down a narrow dirt road with her gas pedal to the floor. The Mercedes banged along the lonely road, washboard grooves making her teeth rattle. She took a quick glimpse at her map, then made a hard right onto a single-lane paved road. She checked the mirror and gave a sigh of relief when she saw that the RV had disappeared. Only then did real panic kick in.
Her hands began to shake so hard that she careened off the road into the dirt, while gravel spun up in a cloud. Suddenly the rear tires hissed, then mired down tight.
Tess slammed into reverse, her back tires smoking as they spun up dry sand and slip rock. She shot the gear into low and gunned the motor, her foot to the floor.
No luck. The tires screamed, but the car didn't move.
Finally Tess shoved the car into park and got out, staring down at the front wheel buried up to the axle in powdery sand.
Stuck solid.
Just perfect.
She turned, glaring out at the horizon. She was miles from any major city, the victim of a map that was probably years out of date. Behind her a dirt road snaked over boulders and twisted hills, shimmering in a heat haze like one of the vintage movies she'd loved.
It would have been wonderful if she had been sitting in an air-conditioned theater enjoying the
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