The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

12
The Gas Station
Jenna Heller
“How much longer?” Jenny asked.
“Maybe another 15 minutes. It can’t be too much further.” Jenny’s mother, Liz,
stretched her fingers around the steering wheel and admired her rings as they sparkled
in the sunlight. “There’ll be a sign for it just ahead. I’m sure of it.” She glanced at the
petrol gauge. “Be on the lookout for a gas station, too, everyone. We need to fill up
before we head back.”
They’d long since left the rolling, green hill country. It was flat, dry and sparse. “The
trees and bushes all look dead,” Jenny said.
“I’m glad we don’t live here,” Margo added.
In the front seat, both mothers nodded as they watched the paved road stretch out in
front of them. Loose dirt streamed across the grey surface and clumps of brown grass
lined the edges.
“It’s a wonder anything survives out here at all,” Margo’s mother said. Then she
leaned toward Liz and whispered, “Are we going the right way?”
“Well, I think so, Kathy.” Liz bit her lower lip. She really had no idea but didn’t want
to admit it. There hadn’t been any cars for quite some time now, none in front of them
and none in her rear-view mirror.
“So!” Kathy looked at Liz and smiled. “How about you come for a bike ride with me
this Wednesday?”
Liz pulled her best you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me face. “I can’t remember the last time
I rode a bike. I’m sure I’d fall straight off!”