Hitcher Slut - Chapter 2 (Patreon)

I might as well post Chapter 2 now as well. Also, it seems like even when I write in a more classically narrative style that I still can't help creating cliffhangers at the end of every chapter...

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A slight glint of metal in the headlights had been his only warning. He shot fully awake, like a rocket, his back ram-rod straight in the chair of the Sunfire. Normally he would recline the driver's seat backwards quite a bit and drive as relaxed as he could manage, but now the back of the seat lay several inches behind him as he sat straight up.

He realized that he had been dozing, more than just letting his mind wander, in the same moment that his foot was ramming down on the brake pedal. It was a detached thought, his brain examining certain things objectively, and almost curiously, even as his body was already acting. His foot slammed the pedal all the way to the floor, jarring his leg, while his brain notified him that it was a cell phone that had glinted in his high beams.

It was probably an Apple, since the aluminum-like finish appeared very similar to that of the MacBook. He wasn't a fan of the devices himself, but he was willing to acknowledge that they were pretty. He was more of a PC fellow. Mac's might have made sense at one point, back when they had proprietary technology, but now they were made from the same components as PCs. They were just assembled in a way that made them nearly impossible to work on without proper training and prevented all customization.

A whole train of random thoughts flew through his mind in nano-seconds, while his body was busy struggling with the wheel as the car swerved. It didn't feel like the car had power steering in this instant. He had to wrench the steering wheel hard to keep the car straight. It was a front wheel drive, so it would have been easier to pull out of it if he could speed up a little. But that would mean pancaking the unknown figure in the road.

He threw the car into neutral, which was a trick he'd once been taught for a car losing control on ice. That seemed to help and he recovered his line, while the tires screeched loudly on the pavement. He had even managed to avoid the gravel shoulder, which would have added a whole other complication.

It felt like the car stood up on its front tires as it came to a violent stop. His head banged off of the wheel, before his whole body was slammed backwards into his chair. He thought he heard a slight crack of something plastic in the seat as he fell backwards as far as it would go. The seat tried to recline fully, but the stacks of stuff in the backseat had stopped it from going all the way. Only his seat belt kept him in the driver's seat, as his backward momentum came to an abrupt halt.

He grunted in pain, reached a hand to his forehead, and lightly caressed it. That was going to leave a mark, but there didn't seem to be any blood as he pulled his hand away. He might have a headache later too, but hopefully not before reaching Thunder Bay. He thought that it might be a good idea to take some painkillers, just in case, before realizing that they were packed away too.

"Damn it all", he grumbled, "a headache is the last thing I need". It would make it difficult to sleep, and he would need his rest if he was planning to drive to Winnipeg, Manitoba tomorrow. Although that would technically be later today, given that it was sneaking up on 1:00 am at this point.

He had completely forgotten, for a very brief moment, why he had stopped and banged his head. The feminine voice coming from his passenger side reminded him, however, as he returned his seat to a more comfortable and vertical position. Whatever might have snapped earlier didn't seem to be affecting it.

"Thanks fer stoppin', Mista", she said as she opened the door and sat down.

He blinked at her. He was sure that he had locked that door. All of his doors were always locked when he drove. He was a very careful, some might say paranoid, person. How did she get in? Had the "crash" caused further damage to his vehicle that he was unaware of? He wondered if he should get out and check, but that probably wasn't a good idea. Not on the highway, even if he hadn't passed another vehicle in a while.

He worried at the problem for a moment, tilting his head down and sucking on his lip. He needed this vehicle to get him all the way to Alberta. It would be a real problem if it broke down on him now. He had very limited funds, basically just enough to get to Edmonton or Calgary and sustain him for about a month. It was barely enough time, he'd hoped, to find a job. It would consume a significant portion of his savings If he was delayed for a few days and had to pay for car repairs. That's assuming that he even made it to his next planned stop.

His mind whirled through all of the worst possibilities: being stuck out here, having to wait for the next good Samaritan passing by to save them, losing his only vehicle, never reaching Alberta, having to turn back and give up, the disdain his family would have for his most recent failure if that happened, getting stuck in some place he didn't want to be, or just simply being eaten by wildlife long before any of that could occur.

"You all right, Mista?" Her innocent question pulled him out of his downward spiral. He noted that she had a very cute voice, and that she sounded very young.

He scrutinized her more closely. It was difficult to tell her age. Her cherubic face and bedraggled, brownish mop of hair made her appear to be in her mid-teens. She had a slight build, being quite thin, which only added to that assertion. That could mean that she was too young to safely be in his car.

She had decent muscle tone, however. Not that of a body builder, but the kind of healthy build of someone who spends a lot of time outside. Yet her skin was decidedly unmarked by the sun. He would have expected a deep tan and possibly some dirt covering her, if she spent a lot of time sexily basking in its rays.

Being physically active would also explain her fairly flat chest that was contained in a white, crochet halter top with a deep V-neck that left little to the imagination. It would certainly account for her trim, flat stomach and narrow hips, though she seemed to have a reasonably perky butt filling her torn, cut-off jeans shorts. It was hard to tell with her reclining so deeply into his passenger seat. Walking a lot could certainly explain that, and the long, toned legs that led to flip-flops that were currently resting on his dash.

She almost gave the appearance of a cat curled up beside him with the way she had confidently taken over her side of the vehicle, like she belonged there or owned it. Although she had spoken, she had not looked directly at him yet. Her gaze was riveted on her phone, where he could only assume she was playing some game. Her fingers were tapping on it at a furious pace.

It was this air of superiority and indifference that made you think she might be far more mature than her appearance made it seem, and also made it difficult to decide her age.

Despite her somewhat disheveled appearance, she didn't seem to be dirty or wet. It was kind of crazy to think that she was out here in flip-flops as well. She couldn't have traveled far, but there were no indications of a nearby settlement. There hadn't been a side road in a while, and there didn't appear to be one up ahead either.

She was an enigma. She appeared young, but acted much older. There were indications that she had been out here for a while, which implied a certain level of experience, but other aspects of her appearance seemed to suggest that she was fairly young. It was baffling!

"Mista", she prompted again and he realized he had been staring. She finally looked at him with eyes that were some kind of brown, like pools of mud. They only added to her disheveled appearance. Looking into them, however, he suddenly remembered that he had nearly run this waif over and broke out in a cold sweat. They could easily both be dead, if his reaction time had been only a few milli-seconds slower.

She quirked a smile at him. Her eyes twinkled mischievously under her thin lashes and magically looked less muddy all of a sudden. Her teeth weren't pearly white, yet her smile was like a ray of sunshine piercing the gloom in the car. It instantly drove away his fears and made him feel more at ease. It also reminded him that she might be far too young to be in his vehicle, as part of his anatomy twitched in reaction to her expression.

"It's OK", she said in a soothing tone, "I'm OK. You're OK. We're all OK."

Seeing his expression ease up a little, she turned back to her video game. Slouching deeply into the passenger seat, with a huge grin on her face, she stated proudly and matter-of-factly, "You can just drop me in T'under Bay. I'm gonna be a stripper!"