Appleton, Colorado, USA

She blinked her eyes open, but closed them just as soon again. The sun stung. And Heather relinquished in the dark.

Bile clawed its way up her throat. Disgusting. Her stomach in knots, her arms too weak to push her up, only agitating her position. The sea of red had engulfed her.

If she could open her eyes in that moment, she'd see the lures. She would see them tauntingly dancing just above the ground, melting the cold away in their radiant light. She would see a string of them, reaching up to her car. She would – she would see what Evelyn had, moments before reaching out in trance. Alone and cold. Doomed and forgotten. Unable to move as a painful curse shot through her body.

She'd rather keep her eyes closed. Cold and alone, but safe on the ground, in-between times.

Waiting in anticipating. Until her legs fell asleep. Until her bony knees melted puddles through the frost.

Until warmth seeped through her spine. Until her eyes shot open, her body turning violently to what must be a lure on top of her, claiming her, again and again and again and-

“Oh Jesus, sorry,” yelped the woman looming over her. She had crouched down, black braids falling over her shoulders. Quickly, she retracted her hand. Heather let out a pathetic whine.

“Are you alright?”

She let her head sink back down into the dirt. Her vision blurred. Not a hint of pink laid upon the horizon. She nearly wished it did.

“Stupid question, yeah,” murmured the woman to herself. “You mind if I take a seat?”

Heather blinked. “Didn't think so,” she said and plopped herself down to Heather's level.

She wore thin brown sneakers and silver jewellery around her neck. Probably not a trucker, then. Too innocent in her attitude as well. Too radiant. She didn't talk. People usually talked, Heather found.

The woman rested her elbows on her knees and stared into the sky. There was still blood drying underneath Heather's fingertips.

When she sat up, hesitantly rubbing her irritated cheek, the woman looked unfazed – nearly bored.

“Do you by any chance know the way to Hotchkiss?”

What? Heather took a second to find her words: “Uhm... yes,” she answered shakily. “You just follow the 50 onto the 92.” She shrugged. “It's pretty simple.”

“Thanks,” said the woman, “That helps a lot”

There was some strange golden glint to her cheeks. Maybe make-up. The woman's hand blocked the low-hanging sun from blinding her; little rays of light painting pictures on her face. Heather picked up a handful of dust and let it run through her hands.

“I hope I'm not holding you up,” she laughed.
“I have nowhere to be. You shouldn't worry about me”

Heather nodded.

“You seem quite shaken”
“I didn't...” Heather looked around, “He got into a fight. I drove him and I didn't ask his name”

The sun stung. The ice had melted. A sea of red engulfed her, then receded, then hung back, just far enough for Heather to still see the shore.

“Laetizia. That's mine,” the woman said. Consonants jumping over vowels: Le-ti-zi-a. “Let me drive you home. Or to a hotel. Or... whatever it is you do” Laetizia, Laetizia.

Heather laughed a sigh. Whatever it is you do. “I'm driving home. For... for a while. I'm driving home”

“Then let me drive you a bit. Just to Denver," she smiled, her voice honey-sweet and sticky. And Heather – so tired, so empty, so cold – trapped in sweet molasses. No, she thought, you won't drive my father's car. And I will not be a bother, she thought. No, don't worry. It's fine, I'm fine, I really am, she never said and nodded instead.

“Good,” Laetizia replied, pulling Heather out into the winter sun. She was taller than her. Apparently, she had a little tooth gap only visible when she smiled and wore eyes so dark Heather lost herself in them.

“Good,” she repeated then took Heather through the dirt to her car, shoved her into the passenger seat and drove.