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Chapter Nine (and a half): Beware of Wild Ostrich


Nick

The highway was dark, and with the exception of two or three cars that passed me by as I walked my way back to the car, it was pretty much empty, too. I walked along, my shoes clopping on the cement, looking around in the dark at the shapes of rocks and stuff and wondering what lurked behind them, certain at any moment the wild ostriches were going to come out and peck my eyes out. I clutched the flashlight harder, a lump rising in my throat. If something did jump out of the dark and try to peck me or maul me to death, nobody would even notice until hours and hours later when Ashley finally said something to the shopkeeper. And she'd be all stranded there at the gas station and then AJ and Rochelle would be pissed off 'cos we weren't there first thing in the morning to pick Zoey up so they could go have their Valentine's Day, which, I thought jealously, would probably go perfectly smoothly for them.

Fucking bastards.

Then I heard something - behind me, and I whipped around so fast I almost fell over and I tripped backwards, only just catching my balance before going down, the flashlight waving wildly. There was a lizard on the road. "Jesus," I said, scrambling backward. I turned 'round again and started running, the flashlight bobbling ahead of me.

Ashley was right. I was gonna get eaten by God-knows-what. Or abducted by aliens. Or by some crazy person that would drive by, see me, then haul me out to the middle of no where - like three feet off the road or something - and bury me alive. I was gonna end up in a shallow grave with the vultures eating my carcass. My beautiful, sexy carcass! And I hadn't even accepted a quick, commemorative last shag in the bathroom before leaving! I was so stupid.

I've never run as fast as I did that night.

When I reached the car, my hands hook as I knelt beside it, the flashlight gripped between my teeth, as I pulled the nuts out of the bag carefully affixing them with the wrench, my head swiveling in panic as I looked about left to right to make sure nothing was sneaking up on me. I kept expecting the flashlight's beams to pick up on eyes glowing hungrily in the darkness as something skulked up behind me.

Please God, just let me get out of this alive, I prayed as my hands flew with the wrench, Just let me make it back to the gas station to fuck my wife.

I bet God rarely hears requests like that.

Or maybe he hears them all the time. Who knows.

I can't be the only guy on the planet praying to fuck a hot woman, right?

When the nuts were finally on there securely, I muttered a hushed thank you and leaped to my feet, shoved the busted tire and all the tools into the back and ran 'round to the driver's side door and climbed into the car, pulling the door closed behind me and smacking the lock down. I let out a breath of relief and leaned back into the cushioned seat.

Then, because I felt like I'd conquered something (though I'm not entirely sure what exactly), I unrolled my window and I yelled out, "Fuck you ostriches! You can't eat me!" and rolled the window back up, laughing with giddy relief.