Lost Highway by Bijou Hunter
Chapter One
Odessa
My captor wears a skull mask.
I hang from his shoulder as my consciousness comes and goes. The man treks through dense brush, leaving behind my car and the Lost Highway. Despite my mind reeling from the pain, I remember the crash. The way the car shuddered before flipping over. I can still hear the metal grinding and feel the glass shattering around me. What I can’t recall is how I went from the car to this man’s care.
A flash of his mask is all I have until he lowers me onto the ground. My body is weightless. I can’t remain upright until he props me against a tree.
I watch him silently move around nearby. He opens a worn, brown knapsack and I see the flash of a blade in his hand. My gaze lifts upward finding a world shrouded by massive trees. Leaves flutter down around me, and I recall autumn arrived a few weeks back. I’d decorated my house with the customary pumpkins on the front porch and pinecone wreath on the door. My boyfriend John told me that I’d become predictable. I thought immediately if I ever stopped being predictable, the first thing I’d do was dump him.
The masked man’s footsteps are soundless as he approaches me. Leaning down, he presses a water canister against my lips.
“Drink,” he says none too gently.
I struggle to swallow the warm water he pours into my mouth. My lips feel alien, swollen and uncooperative. I can’t keep up with the stream of liquid, and much of it splashes against my bloodied shirt.
The man shows no reaction to the mess. He’s on the move again. Shoving the canteen in his backpack, he scans the area with the eyes of an enraged beast. I sense someone is hunting us.
Not alone in the car when I crashed, I’d picked up a hitchhiking woman. I’d wanted the company, and she looked desperate. Was it her idea to take Route 201 rather than a well-used road? Or had I been the one to suggest we try the notorious Lost Highway?
The masked man’s body goes rigid as movement approaches from the woods. When I follow his gaze, I spot the flash of white from an approaching figure.
My mind returns to the road just before the crash. The woman’s name was Kim. She didn’t want to talk to me but finally opened up about leaving behind a bad job and relationship.
“We’re not so different,” were the last words I said to her before spotting the spikes in the road.
I tried to dodge them, but it was too late. The car jerked once the tires blew. I’d nearly corrected the swerving car when I heard the shot and a hole opened up in the engine. Kim screamed, and I couldn’t control the vehicle.
The masked man stalks in my direction before pausing. Hesitating, he looks away from me to where we were heading. I think he might leave me for whoever is coming. His indecision doesn’t last.
He barrels toward the tall, burly man bursting from the brush. Bashing into each other, their battle lacks finesse. The large men grapple for the second man’s weapon.
As they struggle, I recall crawling out of the shattered car window. Kim was already on her feet, reaching for her bag when an arrow tore through her hand.
Her scream woke me from my daze. A primal urge to escape overtook my pain and confusion. I scrambled from the car and looked at where Kim ran down the road. Leaving a blood trail behind her, she screamed for help, but there are no police on the Lost Highway.
The men fight feet from me. I don’t know who to root for, but I do know I’m in danger. Using the tree to stand, I realize my right leg is torn open below the knee from an animal trap I stepped in earlier.
Hobbling away from the men’s struggle, I panic as the memories flood back.
Once I saw the wild men attack a begging Kim, I ran into the woods. The dense brush hid me from those predators, but the Lost Highway is teeming with threats.
As I run now, the masked man yells for me to stop. I know his voice from when he found me in the animal trap. I’d swung an ax at him. Dodging it easily, he told me to stop, or he would kill me.
“Never touch me,” he said, snatching the weapon from my grip.
Now he calls for me to stop, but the other man says the same thing and laughs. This place has no heroes, only monsters. They’ll both destroy me, just in different ways. I need to escape.
I limp away from the battling men. The sound of their frenzied grunts from violent blows follows me. I don’t know who will win or if I can find safety in these blindingly, overgrown woods. Despite my questions, I must try to survive.
My right leg feels dead, dragging behind me. Wiping sweat and blood from my eyes, I reach up to the gash on my hairline where the laughing woman hit me with a bat earlier. She watched me fall and hit me again in the leg. Somehow, I dodged her next strike and regained my footing.