The car lights went out leaving Chris alone in the
darkness of Nevada’s Great Basin Desert. He had stopped on deserted US 93 to
exercise his aching back. His timed headlights had switched off and Chris was
unable to see the road or his SUV. There was no moon and no guiding light.
Gathering
his senses, Chris paused as he heard crunching in the desert, then it was
quiet. A chill crept down his spine as he had just passed the junction with Extraterrestrial
Highway 375, the gateway to Area 51. Chris shrugged off his skittishness, found
his SUV and got in. He started his vehicle and his headlights illuminated the blacktop
that cut through the desert. To his surprise, Chris saw a figure standing in
the road at the edge of his lights.
The
person came forward and it was a young woman dressed in trousers and a loose
shirt with a leather bag slung across her shoulder. Black hair cascaded down
onto her shoulders and she held out her right arm with a thumb raised.
Chris waved her forward and offered the
hitchhiker a ride, saying he was on the way to Idaho, but would stop in Ely
where he could drop her off. The young woman said Ely was fine and introduced
herself as Claire. He asked what she was doing alone in the desert, but Claire
said simply.” I’m going home.”
“Where’s
home? Chris asked.
“Home
is far away.” She responded.
They
drove on in quiet until Chris saw flashing lights closing behind him. He slowed
and pulled to the right, but the Nevada Trooper zipped past them, much to his relief.
His passenger became agitated and clutched her bag. Chris pointed out the Ely
lights on the horizon and Claire relaxed, noting she was tired.
Reaching the Pioneer Motel on the north side
of Ely, Claire went with him as he checked for a room. A couple was registering
ahead of Chris and to his surprise Claire asked for money to play the lower-lobby
slot machines. He obliged and gave her a five dollar bill, eliciting a smile.
“Wish me luck.” She waved.
The
manager said he had a large room with two queen beds that faced the highway.
Chris said fine, thinking to offer Claire one of the beds. He was completing
his registration when a state trooper entered and chatted with the night
manager. The trooper said a young woman had escaped from an institution for the
criminally insane outside of Las Vegas and the lawman produced a photo which he
showed to the manager who shrugged and said no. The trooper held it up for
Chris who started. The dour mug shot resembled a younger Claire staring into
the camera.
Chris
gazed at the picture and shook his head, denying he knew the girl in the
picture. The manager asked what she had done and the trooper explained the girl
had murdered her boy friend, and then killed his father and mother. “Beat them
to death with a hammer.” The trooper offered.
”Sounds
like a real wack job.” The manager grunted.”I’ll keep an eye out.”
Chris
found his hitchhiker at a slot machine and he offered her a bed for the night.
She gladly accepted and they went to room 113 on the first floor. The neat room
was large with two queen beds and a large flat screen. Claire went into the
bathroom and Chris set his bag on the bed nearest the widow which looked east,
facing the highway.
In
a few minutes Claire emerged from the bathroom and stood by the second bed. “I
am not a wack job. “ She said, having overheard the manager. “And I did not
murder that family. It’s a cover story and the place I escaped from is not an
institution.”
He
looked at her, at a loss for words. Claire put her finger to right ear as if listening
then looked at Chris. “They are coming for me and will be here at dawn.” She went
on to explain she had been held in Area 51 and through a security lapse had
been able to slip away. Once outside her people had made contact, directing her
to Ely where she would be met and taken home.
Absorbing
this fanciful tale, Chris gripped his phone. Was it all a fairy tale or was
there a chance it was real? If something was coming, he could video them taking
Claire. Put it on YouTube, perhaps fame was beckoning.
Later Chris awoke with a gasp and he saw Claire
standing beside his bed. Was it time for her to go? He started to sit up and
reach for his phone, but Claire hit him in the forehead with a ball peen
hammer. She hit him again and then
smashed his phone.
“No
YouTube and no fame.” She said, crossing to the window and watching as the
morning sun crept over the Wasatch Mountain Range. She put her finger to her
ear. Yes, they were arriving, just a few more minutes.
The maid opened 113 and walked in with an arm of fresh
towels. On the second bed she saw a man with a bloodied face, his eyes wide
open, staring blankly. She uttered a scream and backed up, glancing around for
the room’s second occupant.
But Claire
was gone.
