Chapter Two

It was a little over two hours into her trip, and Mia’s anxiety level was beginning to rise.

It was already nightfall when the radio broadcast had been interrupted to announce a winter storm warning. Not five minutes later, the rain at the leading edge of the stormfront overtook her.

The twelve-year-old Honda she’d nicknamed Gracie shimmied and shook as the winds picked up, and Mia cursed as she gripped the steering wheel harder to try to keep her little car on the roadway.

“This keeps up I won’t be able to see at all,” she muttered. Her windshield wipers were already operating at maximum capacity and losing the battle with each passing minute.

The green and white highway sign she could barely make out read Winters, 2 miles.

Still three hours away at least, since I’m barely able to maintain forty miles an hour in this rain, she realized, and sighed. At this rate, I won’t make it to Mom’s before midnight.

Mia hunched over the steering wheel, peering through the windshield as best she could. She reached out and flipped the air controls to move the blast of heated air from her torso and feet over to defrost, then shivered as the warmth retreated from her slender frame to focus on improving her visibility.

And then she heard it. The distinctive tink, tink of sleet pellets that had formed among the raindrops beginning to bounce off the hood, roof, and windows.

Mia patted the dashboard nervously.

“Come on Gracie, hang in there. You get me to Mom’s safely and I promise I won’t ever drive you in a storm this bad ever, ever again.”

Gracie, ever temperamental in foul weather, responded to her owner’s plea by sounding an ominous chime and flashing the ‘check engine’ light just as an enormous clap of thunder rattled the entire car.

“Oh, no. No, Gracie, not now, please God, not here,” Mia pleaded even as she felt the power steering begin to fail, a sure sign Gracie was about to give up completely.

Just ahead she could see the exit for Winters, and she wrestled the wheel and slowed her speed even further to take the ramp.

At least get off the highway, Mia thought to herself. Safer that way.

Gracie plodded her way up the incline, speed plummeting, Mia coaxing desperately as if Gracie could hear her.

Just as the ramp leveled out to the narrow service road above, Gracie belched and backfired once loudly, then flatlined, and Mia shrieked as her little car’s headlights abruptly shut off, as well.

Unable to see anything in front of her in the pitch black, Mia tried her best to get as far over to the right as possible so she wouldn’t block the ramp. With the power steering rendered useless, she tugged with all her might, her arms straining mightily to turn the wheel as far as she could. Then she coasted to a stop and shifted Gracie’s transmission into park.

“Dammit!” Mia yelled in frustration and touched her forehead to the steering wheel in despair.

Think. What do I do now? Call Mom, see if Dad can come get me, I guess?

With trembling fingers, she dug her phone out of her purse, and cursed again.

Great. Just great. Twelve percent battery, and no freaking signal. So much for ‘organized’ and ‘plan-every-last-detail’. I can’t even remember to charge my damn phone.

Now what?

***

Tanner’s prediction of a long night had become a stark reality. He’d already been on seven calls, assisting stranded motorists along the highway.

And for the last one, he’d been just in time. He’d no sooner loaded up their minivan on his tow truck, put the elderly couple in his cab, and gotten underway when an eighteen-wheeler driving much too fast for conditions jackknifed behind them, finally coming to rest right where the couple’s vehicle had been only minutes before.

Wow. Damn good thing I was here, he told himself as the three of them watched the event unfold about a hundred yards away in his side mirrors.

“Oh, my! I hope he’s all right,” the tiny old woman exclaimed, her eyes as big as saucers.

“Me too,” Tanner told her as he keyed his mic to call it in to the Highway Patrol.

***

With her only source of heat lifeless, Mia’s teeth were already beginning to chatter from the cold.

I can’t stay with Gracie, she realized despondently. It’s freezing in here, and it’s dark, and I haven’t seen another vehicle in at least twenty minutes. I need to go find help. I need to get to Winters.

Using her cell phone screen’s glow as a flashlight, she clambered into the backseat and unzipped her suitcase, looking to add layers to her clothing. Out came the oversized sweatpants she’d packed, and she slid them on over her yoga pants. A thick pair of socks was added to the thinner ones she was already wearing before she shrugged her feet into her hiking boots.

She slung her purse’s strap across her body, turned off her cell phone to conserve what little battery life she had left, and shoved the useless accessory down into her purse before putting her heavy coat on.

Then Mia closed her eyes, said a prayer, and stepped out of her car and into the storm.

A hundred yards ahead of her was the little two-lane road that crossed the now mostly deserted highway. She was already losing feeling in her fingertips – gloves, dammit, I forgot my gloves - by the time she reached it and read the sign that pointed to the right.

Winters, 1.5 miles.

One and a half miles? There’s no way I can walk that far in this! part of her mind protested.

Her survivalist side spoke up sharply.

You can, and you will. The alternative is stay here and freeze. You don’t have a choice, so let’s go. Get your ass in gear.

She tightened the drawstring on her hoodie as best she could with a baseball cap on.

There. That will at least block some of the sleet and rain from getting in my face, she thought.

Mia shoved her bare hands into her coat’s pockets, turned right, and begin to walk as quickly as she could.

She trudged along, keeping the white line painted down the side of the road in front of her as a marker to guide her way in the pitch black. Each frosty breath she exhaled was immediately whisked away by the biting crosswind that had her struggling to stay upright.

Her heavy overcoat, while great for cold weather, was not waterproofed, and as it became saturated, she began to feel the immense weight bearing down with each step forward she took.

Mia set her jaw and railed against her situation in her head as she walked.

I will not let this beat me. I’m a Jones, dammit!

In a half-hour, she passed a sign that called her bravado into question.

Winters, 1.3 miles.

I don’t think I can do this.