“Route 4 is beautiful, but totally fucking wild,” Calypso said.
She drove her old green Ford Bronco through increasingly intense rain and wind. The sun had already disappeared behind the mountains while she was hiking back through the wilderness, and by the time she reached the Bronco, the storm was moving in fast.
A small swarm of bats had circled overhead as she approached the truck.
Then, not long after she got back on the road:
Bang.
“Fuck.”
Calypso slowed and pulled onto the shoulder.
Flat tire.
“Fucking karma.”
She sat behind the wheel for a moment, staring through the rain.
Then she got out.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Changing the spare alongside Route 4 in the dark took considerably longer than she would’ve liked. By the time she finished, she was soaked.
An engine suddenly whined through the storm.
Calypso looked up.
A vintage police car flew past at a reckless speed, red and blue lights flashing through the rain as though it were pursuing something she couldn’t see.
She watched it disappear around the next bend.
“Keeps getting weirder.”
Her voice crept upward as she said it.
Calypso pulled on a black hoodie and zipped it to her neck. She was surprisingly cold.
Too bad she hadn’t gotten to soak.
She’d really wanted that natural healing energy today.
Calypso climbed back into the Bronco and sat there for a moment, listening to the rain hammer the roof.
Headlights appeared behind her.
A red Honda Civic drove past.
She watched it disappear into the storm.
Then she pulled back onto Route 4.
Santa Fe was still a long way off, but she’d already wasted most of the day. She might as well enjoy the drive. Get some alone time. Balance things out.
Route 4 wound through hills, forest, and walls of rock. Eventually, she came down the great hill and the land opened before her, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains stretched across the distance.
“Land of Enchantment…”
Calypso considered it.
“How enchanting. Let’s chant about it.”
She put on System of a Down and cranked the volume.
Then she turned the heat all the way up and rolled down the windows.
Cold rain and warm air collided inside the Bronco.
Calypso roared into the night.
Why was life always so fucked?