“Damn it all to hell,” he growled, the radio playing some country song he didn’t recognize, the interior of the cab cooled by the cross breeze as he drove this stretch of country road. Thinking the bottle could have rolled into the backseat of his king cab, he glanced over his shoulder but saw nothing other than his son’s baseball bag and Barb’s jacket. No bottle of Tums. No little, half-used roll of any kind of antacid.

Damn, his gut ached. Burned. He’d probably have to pull over at the next convenience store or gas station and—

Son of a bitch!

He stood on the brakes.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” The truck shimmied and fishtailed, sliding and spraying gravel as the tires hit the shoulder. Staring through the bug-spattered windshield, he saw her standing butt-ass naked in the middle of the road and waving frantically. A naked girl! No, a woman! She looked like she’d been through hell. Her skin was burned and grimy, her hair matted against her head and so dirty he couldn’t really tell the color. Blood was visible on her neck, and her face was twisted in sheer, full-blown, nutso panic.

“What the fucking hell?” he said under his breath, his heart thudding wildly. For the love of Christ, he could have hit her. Killed her. And killed himself. Let alone what would have happened to the vehicle.

She was hobbling toward him. Still waving, propped up on some kind of tree branch that she used as a crutch. What the hell was this? A shakedown? He looked around, saw no one else, then let the truck idle as he climbed from the cab and stepped onto the sunbaked asphalt.

In obvious pain, her ankle swollen to the size of a small melon, she hurried awkwardly toward him.

“Please, please help me,” she said, her voice a crackling whisper. “Please, before he comes.” She was scared spitless.

“Who?” He looked around. “Before who comes?” Again, there was no one, just a hound dog baying and bounding through the field nearby.

“Him!” Hobbling on her crooked tree limb, she hitched her way past him more quickly than he’d expected and made her way to the passenger side of his truck. “The freak. He’s coming!” she added hoarsely. “Please. Just take me away from here. Now!” She wasn’t waiting for an invitation.

“Hey, slow down. You’re okay,” he said, though she was definitely not. Not by a long shot. Whack job. Probably high on something. And scared out of her mind. Hallucinating maybe. Could be dangerous. And where the hell were her clothes? “Wait, you can’t just—”

She’d reached the cab and was opening the door.

“Whoa! Hey, look!” He rounded to the passenger side. “What’s going on here?”