D I M I T R I A N N A H

|03| Drills and Lifts.

|3|

Hannah

"My course is set for an uncharted sea."
— Dante Alighieri.

Driving through towns was an easy job but as time flew by so did money. I stopped at some towns for a month or so, picking up random jobs at garages. My fingers knew their way through the car like my mind knew the way with alphabets. I was satisfied.

The soft summer wind kissed my face, sending pleasant shivers down my neck. My mind wandered through scenes of books I had read, food and dreams. Driving through the stretch of the highway was boring, I looked for things that would catch my eye. The only thing I got was a goat and a cactus.

The flash of red in the corner of my eye distracted me. I turned just in time, slamming the brakes of the car. The car in front of me was dented. The black beauty now looked like the last Diet Coke can I consumed, crushed and vacant. I picked up my knife, and a socket wrench I carried. Those were for safety purposes. Purely for that. It wasn't like I enjoyed bashing passerby's head for fun.

I got out of the car, making my way around the dented piece of trash. The driver's seat was empty. I looked around, looking for any sign of life. A grey mass caught my attention. He would have passed for a huge rock if he was immobile. Only he sat there with his head hung low.

"Um. Are you okay?" I asked keeping my distance. He could probably pull out a socket wrench like I had and ram it into my head. My knife felt heavy in my pocket. I concealed the socket wrench in my jacket.

He didn't respond. His head just lifted and he gazed across the highway as if he could see the end. I caught a flash of tanned skin, and waves of hazelnut hair. The silence between us grew. Feeling awkward, I raised a hand and gestured to the piece of trash.

"If this trashed Coke Zero can is yours, would you mind moving it, sir?"

"Does it look like it can move?" he snapped.

"On its own? No. But if you move your ass and stop moping on the highway, it could move. Also, it would reduce your chances of an early death courtesy of a huge trailer who would think you were just a rock."

"Harldy, I'm a boulder," he tilted his head and added after a second thought, "I think you're increasing your chances of an early death."

"How so?"

"I could be a serial killer."

"So could I."

"You definitely look like one." He shrugged and lifted himself off the ground. "But I'm no serial killer."

"So they all say," I countered back. "Move your car out of the way, and let me be."

"You're not going to offer me a lift?" His voice was a symphony of amusement but I caught a note of disappointment, even irritation.

"No." I replied as calmly as I could. "I'm not taking you anywhere. You can stay here."

"In the middle of nowhere."

"I'm sure there's a town a couple of fifty miles or so. Look, get your car out of the way or I'll have to run it over."

"And kill me?"