I quickly fumbled my way to the exit and stepped outside into the raging storm, locking the deadbolt with my key, using only my sense of touch. The wind began gusting, spraying my face with stinging rain. They said it might—might—sprinkle today. This was no fucking sprinkle.
I carefully made my way down the short flight of stairs, holding onto the railing for dear life. All I needed was to find my way around the trailer and hit the unlock button on my rental, which was parked out back. The headlights would come on and guide me the rest of the way.
Squinting, I glided my free hand against the wet textured wall of the trailer’s exterior while the rain pelted me. A bolt of lightning exploded in the sky, and I yelped. For one brief moment, everything around me lit up and came to life. Piles of construction debris seemed to move, the angular shadows dancing in a choppy motion. The puddles on the muddy ground flashed and swirled with the wind. The fallen crane, off in the distance, looked like it was bending with the wind.
Jesus. I was knee deep in a horror flick. Don’t think about the dead guy. Don’t think about the dead guy. Fuck. I’m thinking about the dead guy.
I picked up my pace, my hands extended while I prayed my feet wouldn’t land in one of the deep mud puddles. The makeshift lot was normally used for broken-down equipment waiting to be picked up and repaired. Not a smooth patch of ground to be found.
I successfully reached the corner of the trailer. Then the next.
“Thank you.” I didn’t know whom I was thanking, but my thumping heart didn’t care. The fine hairs on my arms didn’t give a fuck either. They were so stiff they felt like tiny cactus needles.
I hit the car’s remote, and my headlights came on. Sweet relief washed over me.
I got to the white sedan and pulled the driver’s side door handle. Nightmare averted. All I needed was to get dry, eat a granola bar—the only food I had back at the motel—and crawl into bed. Everything would be fine.
“Hey, Jebby. Watcha doin’ here sor late, huh?” said a raspy voice.
I froze, knowing exactly who it was. Randall. And given how he was slurring, I assumed he was drunk.
I slid behind the wheel and jerked the handle, but Randall wedged his construction boot inside before I could close it.
“Where you goin’, baby?” He yanked the door from my wet, slippery hand. Before I could utter a word, he had one of my long wet braids.
I clawed at his hand, screaming as he dragged me from the car and threw me onto the mud.
“I know what you like, Dorothy,” he slurred.
My eyes wide with terror, I watched as he started reaching for the fly of his dirty wet jeans, all the while chuckling.
I flipped onto my hands and knees in the mud and got into a sprinter’s crouch, but the moment I lunged to run, he had my hair again.
I flew backward, landing with a thud on a sharp rock right in the middle of my back. I knew it hurt. I knew I was injured. But that’s the thing about adrenaline, it shields you from feeling pain.
Randall jumped on me, straddling my torso.
“Get off me. Get off!” I screamed, trying to push him away.
“That’s what I’m doing, Dorothy.”
The interior of my car gave off more than enough light to see Randall’s snaggletoothed grin as the rain dribbled down his oily, stubbly cheeks. He was enjoying this.
I clawed at his arms, raking my nails down his skin.
He yelped and then laughed heartily. “Damn, girl! You got some spunk in ya.”
“Help! Someone help!”
“Shut up.” He backhanded my face.
My nose. My nose. Was it broken? I didn’t know, but the pain shot under my cheekbones and through the back of my skull.
I cupped a hand over my face, using my other arm to punch at him. “Stop! Help!”
My panic only seemed to amuse him, because his sadistic grin turned to a shit-eating grin. He was an animal.
Randall grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head. With his weight, I could do little more than squirm my hips.
Our faces were close. I could headbutt him in the nose if he just came a little closer. Come on. Come in for a fucking kiss!
He didn’t. “I’m gonna sit here until you get tired,” he said. “And then I’m gonna—”
A deep, silky voice chuckled to my side, catching Randall’s attention.
I looked up at the dark, shadowy figure standing twenty feet away.
“Just move along, buddy,” Randall said. “This here is between me and my girlfriend.”
In that moment, the clouds opened up, and a beam of moonlight washed over the large shadow. The man was tall with broad shoulders. His cheekbones were pronounced, casting sharp angles of light over his face. To me, he didn’t look like a man. He looked like a wicked statue of the devil brought to life. Only, he didn’t have horns.