Sarah grimaced as her fuel gauge slowly bobbed down past zero. Her 2012 Corolla gave a high-pitched hiss, her gas pedal went limp, and her tires stopped rolling. The gas station was less than 100 meters away.
Sarah mumbled, "Fuck" under her breath and put the car in park. She would have to walk the rest of the way. She felt stupid for not getting gas before leaving civilization, but how was she supposed to know there were no gas stations for 80 miles?
Her white sneakers turned tan from the dirt roads. Cornfields to her left and right, boarded by rustling tall grass, were the only sound aside from the wind. Feeling frustrated but determined, she kept her eyes on the small gas station and silently prayed it was open. Sarah cursed herself for her stupidity. Maybe if she hadn't been so distracted, she would have noticed that she was in the middle of nowhere. Now she was approaching some dust-covered gas station surrounded for miles by corn fields.
It was a short walk, but the closer Sarah got, the slower she felt herself moving. Four slim yellow and red dust-colored pumps stood before a gray-blue building resembling a shack more than a minimart. The front doors were obscured by shadows from a westward falling dusk sun. Half of her mind shouted to turn back and wait in her car till she could wave down a passerby, but what were the odds of another car coming by anytime soon? Besides, many buildings she'd seen around here had a "rustic" look. She was overreacting.
But as she got closer, she saw a cracked opening. Thank goodness. She already felt gross from walking in the manure-scented air. Whoever was working could give her a ride back to her car with the gas can. Sarah stepped around the humble gas pumps and through the tinted doorway, feeling uneasy.
Inside, it was like any other small quickie mart, except maybe dirtier and less well stocked. Sasha's unease increased, but she tried to tell herself this was just how things were in small towns. "Hello, is anyone here?" She quietly called, trying not to wince when the yellow overhead lights flickered.
"Well, look at you," a Montana accent called from behind the counter displaying lottery tickets. As the man stood, Sarah noticed his height and stature; he must've been at least 6'4, with broad shoulders.
"Hi, I'm Sarah." She smiled, trying to ignore the hunter, looking into his deep brown eyes, "I ran out of gas a little up the road, and I was wondering if you maybe had a can I could borrow."
"That I do." he didn't break his gaze, "but it'll cost ya."
Sarah pushed down another wave of unease, "Do you take Apple Pay?"
The man laughed, "What does this look like, wholeFoods?" he put both hands on the clear part of the counter, leaning forward towards her, "We take cash or card."
This wasn't improving her situation. Sarah fumbled with her pockets, cursing herself again for being so stupid, "Okay, well, I don't have that. I can Venmo you or WhatsApp you. Could you keep my ID until I come back with the cash? Whatever works. I need to get back home before dark." Her boyfriend would be wondering what took her so long.
The man smiled, "No, I don't think that'll work. How about you take that top off?"
"What?"
"How about you take that top off? I'll think about helping you. Oh, and let down that pretty blonde hair of yours."
Sarah stood stunned, frozen, "I'm not taking my top off or letting my hair down! I need a little bit of gas to get down...."
The gas station attendant interrupted her briskly, "Yes, yes, you are." He removed his hands from the counter and made his way around the far end so that it was no longer separating them.
"I'll call the police." Sarah barely stuttered out, not breaking her gaze. An unbranded gray shirt hung off his frame, his hair was short but messy, and his face was stern and unwavering.
"No reception, go ahead, check."
He was correct; there was no reception. Sasha was totally and entirely at his disposal.
"Listen," Sarah started, "I don't know anything about you; I don't even know your name." The situation was so surreal that she still wasn't sure it was happening.
"But maybe." She continued, realizing her best option would be to bargain until her car was up and running, "If you help me out a little, I'll be willing to help you out a little." She forced a smile.
The edge of the man's lip twitched up, "My name's Tom, and from my perspective, you're in no position to be making deals." The scent of ethanol gently drifted from his direction. His fingers were coated in something dark. It could've been dirt or grease or god knows what else, "From what I understand, yer cars broke down, you got no money, no cell reception, and you walk in on my day off expecting me to help you?" with another predatory smirk he continued, "I reckon yer gonna have to take that top off or start walking."
Sarah was frozen in place, staring at the tiles on the floor. She was dressed conservatively: a striped blue and white blouse with tight-wash jeans. She fumbled with the bottom button, wondering why she was considering this. After all, she could walk back to the car and seek help from a passerby. Then again, Sarah wasn't sure she wouldn't get the attention of someone even worse. If she was lucky, this guy Tom wanted to embarrass her for some sick entertainment.
"So, if I take my top off, that'll be it, and you'll help with my car?" Sarah tentatively asked.
Tom laughed, shaking his head, causing loose brown hair to rustle over his forehead, "Something like that, sweetheart."
Sarah nodded, trying to assert herself, "I think all it needs is a bit of gas. If you give me a ride down there, I can flash you on my way out, pinky promise." She smiled.