MADRIGAL

PART 2 - MADNESS

Jane's older model car seemed only able to pick up classic music stations, so she drove to the sound of Johnny Cash's crooning about spaceships and rain. She lost track of Deanna early on. They stayed close before the highway before Deanna flew off at twenty miles over the rate of traffic. The GPS stated their destination was right off of the I-10, and Jane had no interest in encountering a speed trap. She wouldn't have been concerned, except for the fact she noted that later, Deanna's car passed by twice, indicating her leaving the highway at some point. It didn't feel like the woman was trying to screw around with Jane, so Jane decided to follow one time.

Deanna pulled off at Interstate 110 in Biloxi, navigating the twists and turns of the town before arriving at a major intersection. She pulled into the left turn lane, started to drive at the green light, before her car stopped in the center of a four-lane crossing. Her car fell to a full stall, and Deanna reacted with both frustration and fluster as cars honked and people cursed. Jane pulled into the parking lot of a boarded-up restaurant across from the scene.

Deanna got out to pop the hood, and raising it aroused fresh waves of angry horn blasts. One driver in his fifties stopped behind her car, exited his, and examined her engine. Jane deciphered through their gestures and interactions that after a time, the man wanted Deanna to try turning the car over again. Deanna stepped inside, the machine roared to life, and stepped back out with arms outstretched to give him a hug. The good Samaritan wanted none of it as he waved her off, pointed to her car, and then the road. Deanna sped away, leaving Jane far behind.

Jane's journey ended in the panhandle city of Bagdad, Florida. The GPS coordinates led to a strip mall with only one shop open so late at night. Jane sighed, pondered for a time her choices, before entering the twenty-four hour adult novelty store in search of her teammate.

***

Deanna watched the new girl enter the Bizarre Bazaar. What an idiot head. Deanna had been very specific with her words; meet at the bazaar, not in. True, Deanna had slunk down in her seat when the new girl showed up, but it was her responsibility to find Deanna, not the other way around. However, if the new girl needed to look at some porn before she started saving lives, so be it. Deanna would just make sure to tell the others later.

Deanna knew what had happened. The black guy told the fat guy to dump someone else on her, and this time a chick, and not even a lesbian chick. Lesbian chicks were as easy to handle as men, but the woman had expressed no desire towards Deanna, so she couldn't be a lesbian chick. Instead, the new girl would soon start spouting attitude because she was jealous because Deanna was prettier and smarter and all around better. They said the new chick was going to be cool, that Deanna would like her, but Deanna was pretty sure that the new chick sucked. Deanna resolved herself to be on her best behavior so she couldn't be blamed for any bad blood, and she could see how long it took for attitude to show.

Deanna sat cross-legged on the car hood as she spread her cards out on the surface, along with her computer and a soda from a convenience store. A gust of wind picked up a card and carried into the street, indicating the universe wished that person's fate to remain sealed. Either that, or it was just a gust of wind, but that would mean that Deanna would have to leave her comfy spot to go after it, and there was no way she was going through that hassle, so, universe, it was. She double-checked to make sure it wasn't a brat card. The terrorist lady said there were two brat cards, and the black guy would whine forever if either was missed, but she found them in her pile, so all was good. The Asian numbnut's flash drive displayed a map with details of the cards, and she began the process of deciding who would live and who would die.

Deanna loved her cards and hugged a batch to her chest. They brought her such joy. She kept every one of them in her albums, rows upon rows of them in a secret place, shelves full of books, her lovely, lovely books, filled with names of lives she'd plucked from the brink. Most never saw her, never knowing how close they came to the perishing line, but she knew. She remembered.