Ruddy had been driving for hours. Teri was still unconscious, and now there was blood seeping through her bandages.
What do I do? he thought. All he could do was drive until he saw an opportunity to get some help.
The sun was blazing down from a cloudless sky—a typical summer day in Texas. The engine temperature gauge was way into the red. He could see heat shimmers coming off the hood, and the dash and floorboard were almost too hot to touch.
He turned the air conditioner up as high as it could go, but the gauge kept climbing.
There was a hissing noise and steam poured out of the hood. “What the hell?” Ruddy said.
The engine coughed and died.
“Goddammit!” Ruddy wrestled with the steering wheel and pulled the car onto the shoulder. When he finally figured out how to open the hood, steam poured into his face. “Ow!” His face turned red, then silver. When his skin returned to normal, the burns were gone.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Well, this doesn’t look good,” he muttered. Several of the parts inside looked weird, like they might be melted, or maybe they were supposed to look like that. He scratched his head.
Oh, boy. I really screwed up this time. Dad would just love this.
They were on an old state highway somewhere in rural Texas. Clumps of stunted trees dotted a landscape broken by a single building—a mega-church about a quarter mile away. The expansive parking lot around it was filled with cars and the whole thing was surrounded by fences topped with rolls of razor wire. It looked like a fort with a giant cross over it.
The billboard at the driveway entrance read, “Bethel Church—We have risen!”
“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Ruddy said.
Teri opened her eyes for a second and looked up at him as he unbuckled her seatbelt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She was limp in his arms as he held her against his chest. He began the trek up the road to the church, wishing there was anywhere else they could go.
