The light of her phone filled the cab when she checked the battery level. It was at 55%. She put it on the charger. She was thankful Kevin had left the keys, but she couldn’t run the truck for heat. And to save the battery, she didn’t put on the lights or radio. Tiny red and green pinpoint lights blinked and glowed on the charger, as well as the truck’s alarm system and other things that ran directly off the battery.

A flash caught her attention.

Headlights in the side mirror cutting through the fog.

Sam’s heart lifted.

That must be Kevin.

But the headlights stopped some distance away.

Why? That’s strange.

The lights were several car lengths away. Why’s it hanging back there? Sam could hear the engine idling. She turned the key in the pickup’s ignition and lowered her power window. She stuck out her arm, seeing it illuminated in the intense light beam as she waved.

Nothing happened.

No one got out of the vehicle.

Was it a police car? Checking the license plate?

Sam thought of approaching but reconsidered.

I don’t know who that is, or what’s up with them just sitting there.

It was strange.

If this was another prank of Kevin’s, she was going to kill him.

The engine revved. Gravel churned as the vehicle accelerated and drove at the pickup in a stone-filled cloud of dust and fog. It veered around the truck so fast that Sam was unable to see what color the vehicle was, or even whether it was a car or truck. Red taillights appeared in the soupy gloom in front of the pickup, then submerged into the fog and darkness until they were gone.

Sam’s heart was beating faster.

What the hell was that?

Probably some local fools with nothing better to do.

She shook her head at the darkness, cursing Kevin.

What’s taking him so long?

Sam searched her side mirror, willing Kevin to appear with gas so they could get out of here, return to the interstate and civilization.

She turned and froze.

Light filled the pickup’s cab.

Through the windshield, Sam saw headlights shooting through the fog as a vehicle approached. Maybe it’s a Good Samaritan? But that hope died when the headlights stopped several car lengths away.

Has to be the same jackass.

The vehicle sat there.

Sam checked to ensure her doors were locked.

She swallowed, glancing at the silver chain bracelet with a love knot on her wrist. It was the last gift her mother had given her. Sam slipped it into her shoe as the strange vehicle’s engine revved, its thrumming filling the night air.