Bite Me

Chapter 1

My car sputters to a stop in the middle of the road. There's no one around for miles. I get out, and I kick the rusted metal. The blue paint is chipping off of the car, and the sides are coated with mud and dust. I cough, and the sun beats down on my leather-clad back. I look up and the glare hits my eyes. I blink it away, and then I look around. The road stretches on for miles. There's barely any wind and the small gust that is around stops after a second. I'm completely alone, in the middle of nowhere in Texas.
Then I hear it. The grinding sound of wheels on hard-packed dirt and I can tell the truck is carrying a lot of weight without even turning my head. I look back, and a man is sitting behind the dashboard of an eighteen-wheeler. He sees me and turns his head back on the road. I give him the finger, and he sees it through his grind rearview mirror and returns the gesture. I spit on the ground. I decide to follow his truck.
From a distance, I can tell he knows where he is going and that he's travelled this road before. I've been walking so long that my feet behind hurt in my tall leather boots, but I keep going. The sun begins to set, and the hot air grows colder. The dirt of the road and myself fills my lungs, and the sweat off my back makes my slim-fitting shirt stick to my back. I think he sees me, but he doesn't say a word. By now I just look like a shadow, trailing far behind him in the dim desert light. And then the darkness lifts, just a bit.

There's a small town in the distance and the fluorescent neon sign of a grocery store catches my attention. One of the letters is dark, and another is flickering.

The truck slows as we near the town, and I take this as an opportunity to latch onto the back. After a few minutes, we arrive at the store. I head a door slam, and heavy footsteps come my way. I begin to clamber down the truck, but the man comes to me before I can leave.

"The hell are you doing in this place?" 
The question catches me off guard. I'd think he'd rather ask why I'm latched onto his truck.

"I'm looking for someone."

The answer isn't a lie, but it's not exactly the truth either. Light from the sign bounces off my silver hair and onto the truck, spilling shadows all over the place.

The man looks at me.

"We don't get a lot of visitors 'round here. Not exactly a tourist destination."

I smirk at him.
"Whoever said I was a tourist?"

He doesn't reply for a second.

"You'll be outta here in a day or so. There ain't much to do out here, except maybe waiting to die." 
His pessimism is off-putting, but I pay it no mind.

"Thanks for the ride," I say as I turn around and head into the grocery store.

"Never offered...." I hear him mutter, and I grin to myself. 

On the door, there's a sign saying the store closes at eight-thirty. It's tattered and there's grime on the edges of the paper. The doors aren't automatic. The few cars in the parking lot look as old as the one I stole earlier today. I push open the plastic glass door, and a wave of cold air hits me. There are a few shoppers, two if I'm being exact. There's a line of fridges stocked with frozen packages and a sad pyramid of fruits in the center. A bored-looking cashier mans the checkout station. The crack of her bubblegum fills the small store, but no one looks at her. They look like they're used to it. I pick up some apples and I head toward the cashier.

"Is there any good places to stay around here?" I ask her.
She shrugs.
"Motel or trailer park."

I pay for the apples and leave the store. The two shoppers glare at me suspiciously as I exit the store.
The streets are quiet. There are a few small bungalows and a trailer park nearby. The air is dry and I can feel my throat burn. I should have bought water. 

I don't want to stay at the trailer park, so I look at a sign, which points me in thr direction of a motel. It's a small town, and I don't think they'll pat me down. I make sure that my gun is still secured, and I stare a few metres to where thr hotel stands. Faded neon signs say "Holiday Inn". I guess big corporations can find even the smallest town. I see the word "The". So, it's a rip-off. I guess I should be wary, but I'm so tired that I can barely stand.

I enter the inn. It's cheap, and the front desk has a small plastic potted plant on it. It just makes the whole place feel dead. The faint orange glow coming off of the old desk lamp does little to light up the stark room.
Faded beige paint is peeling off of thr walls, and I can see cobwebs in the corners. She comes out of nowhere. 
Her skin is tanned, and tattoos run down her arms. Her dark hair frames her face, and she wears dark sunglasses. I can't see her eyes. She licks her perfect red lips.

"Welcome. You...want a room?"

I nod curtly. 
"One night, please." 

Her long red nails drag along the surface of the splintered desk to the register.

"Name?" She says, without looking up.

"Lana Redmont."

Her head perks up and through the glasses, I can feel her eyes boring into me.

"Miss Redmont, is that right?"

"Yes." 

Somewhere I can hear the dripping of water. The lamp flickers.

"You're sure..." She says.

I make an irritated sound.

"I'm sure." 

She grins at me, and takes off her sunglasses. Her eyes are red. She's the one.

"Not Evi Van Altena?"

My stomach drops, and I pull out my
gun. 

"Seems we know each other."

She flashes her fangs.

"Seems we do."