Southern Exposure

by Lari Smythe

  * * *

  As I turned off Main Street onto Route 67 and headed toward home, an erratic flash of light in the rearview mirror caught my attention. Although I didn't have a lot of seat time—as Tink had pointed out—I did have my keen senses and could easily drive and concentrate on the rearview mirror at the same time. A ricer squealed around the corner behind me as a second one shot through the intersection going east. The boys? It wasn't really a big deal, but before I turned my attention forward again, the one that turned came screaming up behind me, so close I couldn't see the headlights. I could make out two occupants, but couldn't tell who they were. It seemed odd they didn't just pass me. We were the only two cars on the road and the centerline was broken to allow passing. My turn was just up ahead, so it didn't really much matter anyway.

  To my chagrin, the ricer followed my left onto Reno Monument Road. A cell phone lit up and I could clearly make out Derrick's face as he held it up to his ear. Then I remembered the other car, was it going around to the other end, to box me in? That was ridiculous. They had no way of knowing where I would turn. Still, I didn't want to lead the car behind me home. Privacy from humans was imperative. There were only a few more roads before Reno crested the mountains and went into another county. If I got too close, it wouldn't be difficult for them to figure out where I lived. A left on Moser Road seemed like the only choice—Roy's Lane was out since it was a dead end. I slowed, choosing not to use my turn signal, and abruptly swerved up the hill on Moser. Derrick swerved erratically, his car bottoming out on the gravel shoulder in a shower of sparks, but he made the turn.

  At the top of the hill, I realized I was heading back toward Old National Pike, the road the other car had taken through the intersection—probably not good, but the idea they were corralling me seemed totally ridiculous. The narrow road dipped sharply to the left and as I entered the second half of the S turn, my headlights lit up the side of the other ricer as it skidded sideways to block the road.

  I locked up the brakes and felt an immediate jolt as Derrick smashed into the back of my car. I turned into the skid, but slid off the road, down a washed out ravine through the tangled underbrush. I wasn't scared—it wasn't like I was going to get hurt—but I was sorry for what it was doing to Tink's masterpiece. I came to an abrupt stop as the rear wheels fell into a ditch, the dislodged headlights shining haphazardly through the underbrush. I killed the engine and shut off the lights. Everything was quiet.

  The road was about a hundred yards up the embankment, and through the glow of headlights, I could see the silhouette of four boys—Derrick and his crew—they were laughing.

  "Jeez Derrick," Matt said, "you didn't say we were going to run her off the road."

  "Andy's the idiot who spun out."

  "Hey, don't blame me," Andy replied, "you told me to—"

  "Not bad for a rookie," Derrick complimented, "of course, I would have done it better."

  "Maybe we should make sure she's okay," Matt interrupted.

  "Right," Derrick replied, "make sure she's okay."

  "We gonna mess with her?" Andy asked, sounding hopeful.

  "We didn't come all the way out here for nothin'."

  The yellow beam from Matt's flashlight scanned over the underbrush. "Hey guys."

  "Come all the way out here." Andy laughed and the boys started pushing each other, except for Matt staring down the beam from the flashlight.

  "Guys."

  "What, Matt?" Derrick said, sounding totally annoyed.

  "It's all poison ivy."

  "You kidin' me." Derrick yanked the flashlight away from Matt and scanned over the underbrush again. "Freakin' great! You sure?"

  "Yeah, three shiny leaves." A roll of thunder echoed through the mountains.

  "Well, she ain't worth poison ivy, that's for sure. Besides, sounds like a storm's headed this way." Derrick tossed the flashlight back to Matt. "Some other time, freak!" he yelled before walking back toward his car.

  I pressed the door against the tangled vines and slid out of the car. There was another car approaching from the north.

  "Yeah freak, some other time," Andy mimicked.

  I probably should have been angry, maybe fighting back the urge to attack, because they apparently had intended to hurt me, but I was totally confused. Was this why Cathy was afraid of them?

  "Someone's coming!" The boy who had been introduced as Joe yelled as a pair of headlights swept across the trees above me.

  "Way to go idiot," Derrick complained, "can't you ever do anything right?"

  "I—"

  "Shut it."

  The gravel scratched under the aggressive tread of off-road tires as the piercing blast of a shrill horn cut through the heavy night air. The dark silhouette of a Jeep stopped inches from careening down into the ravine—my ravine.

  "What the hell!" Derrick yelled. "You tryin' to kill someone, idiot?"

  "Are you guys crazy?" A distinctively male, yet smooth voice, shouted back. Even angry, his voice sounded different than the local boys—not an accent exactly—just different.

  "Well, if it ain't Hollywood," Derrick said. "You followin' us?"

  "Following?" The new arrival chuckled. "No, just out for a drive, kind of learning my way around."

  "Ain't learned much."

  "What are you guys doing out here?"

  It appeared, in a flicker of lightning, that Derrick's crew had formed behind him.

  "We ain't doin' nothin'," Andy replied. He groaned as Derrick punched him in the arm.

  "So, you all are just hanging out in the middle of the road on the blindside of a turn." The boy Derrick called Hollywood observed.

  "We're outta here," Derrick replied.

  "See you at practice."

  "From the bench, loser," Derrick joked and the boys burst out laughing. "Ain't like we need no second quarterback." Car doors slammed followed by revving engines that clouded the lit area in an oily, blue fog. The two ricers sped away.

  Hollywood stood on the edge of the road, silhouetted by his Jeep's headlights, and waved his fists at the fleeing cars. "You guys are idiots!" He dropped his arms in exasperation and mumbled, "God, I hate this place." As he turned to go back to his car, he noticed the cut my car had made through the vegetation. He stood at the edge of the ravine, staring down into the darkness and our eyes met—only I knew he couldn't see me.

  I gulped, a completely pointless human reaction that I couldn't explain. His dark, chocolate eyes were intense, concerned and absolutely beautiful. Suddenly the intoxicating scent that possessed me at school drifted down from the street—it was his.

  "Is anyone there?" He strained to see into the darkness. "Hello? I can see your car. Are you hurt?"

  I glanced down, not realizing my hands were trembling, as a knot tightened in the pit of my stomach. The burn in the back of my throat overwhelmed me so quickly that I moved toward him out of instinct. A stick snapped under my foot.

  "Hello?"

  Another roll of thunder triggered a sudden downpour. I took two more steps before the cleansing rain allowed me to regain some semblance of control. I froze in a clear spot between my car and the road.

  "Is anyone there?" He called over the deluge, "Are you hurt?" He waited for an answer, but I didn't reply. "My cell is dead, but I'm going for help. Just stay put. I'll be back."

  A flash of lightning lit the sky, his face, and presumably mine.

  "Don't move," he called having apparently seen me.

  It took me a second to realize he was coming straight down the ravine. There was no question what I would do if he reached me—absolutely none.

  "Stay there."

  I fought off what could only be describe as primal instinct, turned and ran into the underbrush as a bolt of lightning struck a tree less than half a mile away. I stopped on the far side of the ravine, hidden behind a large oak. He continued to probe around in the brush, looking for me, but finally climbed back up to the road. I thought he was going to leave, but he came b
ack to the edge of the road with a flashlight and scanned the area.

  "Okay, so you're probably terrified. I can't say I blame you. I'm going for help—an ambulance—the police. You'll be okay, just stay put."

  He disappeared above the lip of the road. Headlights swept across the trees and he drove off in the direction he'd arrived.

  If I couldn't control myself around this boy in the open, how was I ever going to manage at school? At least I could be sure he wasn't in any of my classes. That left only lunch and I could always wait that out in the bathroom. First things first though, I needed to get my car out of the ravine before he came back.

  I loathed everything about being a vampire, but used my strength to push the car out of the tangled underbrush, across the ditch, into the clearing. I thought I might drive from there, but the wet grass was too slick, so I pushed it down the hill to the road. From there, it was a short drive home.

  The house was dark, as usual, when I crested the steep driveway. I still hadn't figured out what I was going to tell Tink about the car and it wasn't until this very moment that I remembered Elizabeth and Benjamin would be waiting for a report on my day. I wasn't too worried about Benjamin—Elizabeth was another story. I turned into the garage and killed the engine.

  "Evenin'," Tink said, emerging from the shadows, "kind of late for a school night."

  "Very funny." So far he hadn't noticed the car—I was going to have to play this by ear.

  He leaned to the side as he walked toward me, obviously noticing the damage. "So, you find everything you were looking for?"

  "Nah, they were out of book bags." I opened the door and got out of the car, standing in front of the scratches on the door.

  "Well, I'm sure Benjamin has something you can use." He continued to survey the damage discretely. It was beginning to look like he was going to let me off the hook—if it was only that easy.

  "About the car," I confessed.

  "It givin' you problems?"

  "Stop it Tink, you see what I did. I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot. You told me to be careful, but did I listen—no, of course not, then the boys—"

  "Boys?" he interrupted.

  Oops. What is it they say about loose lips sinking ships? I'd let my mouth get ahead of my brain.

  "I thought we were clear about the racing." His tone was scolding, like a parent and that made me angry.

  "I wasn't racing! The boys ran me off the road." Crap, I did it again.

  "You hurt?"

  "Stop teasing. I love the car, and it wasn't my fault. I turned into the skid just like you taught me, but when the one hit me from the rear there was nothing I could do." Way too much information, I usually had better control than that, maybe it was the accident, or was it Hollywood?

  "It's not a big deal, you're just a girl."

  "Just a girl!" Are you kidding me?" I lunged at him, and we collided like too pieces of granite, falling back into his tool boxes with a crash. The drawers flew open showering the floor with sockets and wrenches like metal rain. I dug my nails into his shoulders as he pressed back against my throat. I let out a loud, guttural roar.

  "Izzy! Izzy! Take it easy," he begged, "I was just playing around."

  I buried my knee in his groin. He gasped, and we toppled over one of the tool boxes, flattening it against the floor. Being a relatively new vampire, I unnecessarily grabbed the first wrench my hand fell on and slammed it into Tink's temple—the wrench folded over the back of my hand. I shook it off, but he caught my next bare handed blow.

  "Come on Izzy, I don't want to fight," he pleaded.

  We released simultaneously and I rolled off his chest.

  Tink sat up first. "You still got a pretty good right hook."

  I glared at him, still fighting to contain my anger.

  "For a girl," he added, "I tell you what: I think you've lost some of that youthful strength. I bet I could take you."

  "Not now Tink." I sat up and spotted Benjamin and Elizabeth standing just outside the garage. Their faces were drawn, concerned—how long had they been there? Did they hear what I said about the boys running me off the road? "Sorry about that," I whispered to Tink.

  "No problem." We both stood and brushed off.

  I gave Tink an apologetic glance, then stared at Elizabeth. "I need to hunt."