Speed Trap Town - Raw ending
070823.01a
Marion's destiny is not what it seems
All characters are over 18. This is non-consensual fiction.
Speed Trap Town
Chapter 1: Prey
The road was dead straight for miles and miles. It was narrow, barely two lanes in moderate shape with few pot holes. It was dark gray with a weathered broken white line that was hypnotic, in a bad way. The pale golden sand at the edge at times threatened to take over the road. Illuminated by her head lights the sand stretched out into the darkness. She had seen it earlier, before the sun set. There was nothing out there in the desert.
Marion Blake, with hands gripping the wheel, her knuckles white with the strain, peered into the falling darkness. She had been driving for hours, since 2:43 this afternoon. She was tired and stressed. She didn't like driving at night, even in the best of times. But now was in no way the best of times for her. It should have been, but things are sometimes not what they seem.
She reached out to the empty passenger seat and touched her purse. It was reassuring and scary at the same time. The purse was still there and in it, nestled in the bottom, covered by all her little possessions was the bank pouch with sixty thousand, three hundred dollars. At 2:43 pm when she drove off with it instead of making the deposit, it seemed like a lot of money. Now, after a few hours have passed, perhaps not as much.
The money could solve a lot of her problems but it also created a few. Stealing the money on impulse, meant running away and starting new. No one knew where she was going. Not even her longtime boyfriend Paul. That loser. He was no great loss.
She would go to Mexico, get a little place by the sea. She could work accounting at a local resort. She would meet new people, make new friends. But now she was growing tired, her vision blurring. A vehicle was approaching her car, the approaching lights visible as tiny dots growing larger, brighter by the second. Tiny amber lights around the bright head lights told her it was a big semi-truck approaching really fast, on the narrow road. Its lights were blinding, its engine roared as it flashed past, her little car swayed in the cross-breeze. She needed to stop and rest before she ran herself off the road.
A mile away, peering through the dirty bug splattered windshield, Marion saw the blurred lights of a neon sign. She blinked and forced herself to concentrate on driving and reaching the sign without going off the road.
She passed the sign and pulled into the parking lot of the 'Sandy Springs Motel.' To her surprise the small parking lot was almost full, with only two empty spots in front of the office. On her way into the office she paused to look at the motel. The office was a stand-alone building with lights on in the front and back. She assumed the back was a residence for the motel manager. Close by was a single row of rooms, about a dozen with vehicles parked in front. The Sandy Springs Motel looked like it was built in the '50's, but it was clean, well maintained and well lit. She wondered about the name, there was a lot of sand in the desert, but no springs around for a hundred miles.
Marion went into the office, and rang the bell. Shortly after a young man appeared, like Marion, he was in his early thirties. Unlike Marion who had an attractive, shapely figure, he was tall and thin.
The young man, apparently the manager, asked, "Can I help you?"
"I am looking for a room." Marion smiled prettily, trying to hide the tiredness from her voice. "A single bed would be fine."
"Sorry, we're booked solid. All twelve rooms are occupied or on hold," the manager said from behind the counter. His eyes followed his finger as he scanned through the names in his registration book.
"You must be Mary. Hi, I'm Trent. We spoke on the phone. Remember? I was expecting you earlier. I saw you pull in, and rushed over here. Did you get lost? This little motel is so out-of-the-way, but that is why we picked it."
Trent had come quietly into the little office and was standing looking at them. He was a tough leathery man in his late thirties. He looked hard and fit and the faded jeans, military-cut shirt, wide leather belt suggested that he made an effort to look tough.
"Mary! Mary Krest," the manager called out. "I got your reservation, right here. Room 7."
Marion looked from Trent back to the manager, the stress of the day visible on her face. "Mary Krest, yes." She looked back at Trent. "That's me, Mary Krest."
"Okay, then. I am glad you made it Mary. I thought we would have to start without you. That would be a disappointment to all in the Society. It's a good thing that I briefed you on all the details in our phone calls. I will give you a little while to check in, have a snack, freshen up, and then we can start. I will pick you up, Mary, at Room 7. Manager, check her in! Let's get started!" He sprang boyishly out the door.
+++
An hour later, Trent was at her motel room door. "So glad you could make it. Better late than never. The 'Wild Siders' will be so glad to meet you. We normally have a meet and greet at the beginning, but since we are having a late start we will have to postpone that."
Trent lost his train of thought when Mary came through the bathroom door and stepped into the light. She was wearing a pale brown, form fitting, satin dress, designed to make the wearer look naked.
"Is this dress Okay?" Mary asked. "I didn't know what to wear. I can change."
"It is fine! Everyone will just love it. But wear flats. Heels don't work too well in the desert."
"We are going in the desert?"
Trent burst out laughing and apologized for laughing to the beautiful Mary Krest. She moved with the unselfconsciousness of someone who is used to going about with little or nothing on. It was a warm look, and a friendly, confiding face. She was in her very early thirties and had a pretty and youthful look about her. Her best feature was the ash-blond hair that hung heavily to her breasts.