a chill through my body. I zip my coat up and slip my hands inside my pockets.
The walk to the door seems longer than I had thought. Every step I take feels like I am getting further away, not closer. The parking lot seems to grow and stretch with each step, the store moving further out of my reach. My legs begin to feel heavy, almost impossible to move. The wind feels stronger with each passing second, blowing my hair back over my shoulders with great force. My simple journey transforms from a short, fifty-foot walk to a never-ending, seemingly impossible uphill battle in just a matter of seconds.
I turn around, contemplating heading back to the car, only to find everything gone. The truck stop is completely deserted. Zoë would never leave me. How could this have happened? It wasn’t more than just a few seconds since I left the car.
I turn around again, toward the store, looking for answers.
The wind inexplicably dies down enough for me to hear the buzz of the fluorescent lights that hang over the gas pumps. The clerk, once visible through the windows, is now gone. My heart beats faster as panic bubbles up to the surface.
I turn toward the store again and to my surprise, see someone moving around near the back shelves. I begin walking to the door again, this time with a rush in my steps.
Muffled screams flood my ears as they break the silence. I stop dead in my tracks and hesitate for a few seconds before changing my course and heading to where the scream came from. With a heightened sense of danger trickling through the air, I increase my speed to a sprint.
When I round the corner of the building, to my utter terror, I see Zoë in the arms of the dark walker. Her wrists are bound tightly together with rope. One of his gloved hands covers her mouth and the other holds the blade of a hunting knife to her throat. He looks darkly into my eyes and smiles. “Just the girl I was looking for.”
I am frozen with fear. My heart is thrumming at top speed, forcing my blood through my veins like a waterfall. I can’t formulate any words. I stand frozen, my mind racing, trying to figure out how to get us out of this situation.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hits me that I must have fall asleep. Nothing in the past few minutes has been normal in the physical world meaning of the word. I must be dreaming. The stress of this evening must have been weighing heavily on me—so heavily that I couldn’t even recognize a dream.
A voice echoes in my ear, calling my name in long, drawn out letters. I don’t know where it is coming from. It gets louder and louder and I am the only one reacting and responding to it. “Emma!”
I jolt awake. The Jeep is pulled onto the shoulder of the highway. Zoë shakes me and calls my name. “Emma! My God, are you alright?”
I adjust myself in my seat. “I’m fine,” I stammer out through labored breaths. “I just dozed off.”
“You more than just dozed off. You passed out! One minute you were talking about a cautionary tale and the next you were unconscious.”
“I’m fine. I’m okay. I promise. I’m just overwhelmed by all of this. It’s mentally exhausting and a little bit terrifying.”
“Should I call your dad?” Zoë asks, looking terrified.
“No, really, I’m okay. Don’t worry him.” I look outside the window to see where we are. Cars are flying by us as we sit on the shoulder of the highway, giving the Jeep a little shake each time they pass. The click of the blinkers begins to irritate me. “Let’s just drive. I promise, I’m fine!”
Zoë, clearly irritated with my lack of respect for what has just happened, falls back into her seat, slides the gearshift into drive and waits for a break in the traffic before pulling back onto the highway. A ding sounds from the dashboard and the low fuel light comes on. Zoë sighs. “We need to stop for gas. Maybe we should get some food too.”
Fighting her is pointless, so I agree. “Food sounds like a good idea.”
She pulls off at the next exit where we fill the tank and stop for a burger and fries at the nearest fast food restaurant.
***
As Zoë drives the Jeep onto the highway and merges into traffic, I pull the journal back