Dear Readers, I know I promised you guys the next chapter, but with ideas for a whole new storyline, I had to go back and add stuff to the original in order for the new storyline to make sense. Please bear with me as I work on getting the next chapters out. I'm going to start writing in sections now, rather than chapters since I get so many complaints about my posts being too short. I'm aiming for roughly 10,700 words per post since I intend Big Bad Karma to be 70-75,000. I can't say when the next section will come out since I'm a plotter and perfectionist and have to look at everything through my character's eyes, but I will get it out as soon as possible.
Thanks for all your support,
DGN
Kayla Morgan desperately needed to pee. That wouldn't have been such a big issue if she'd been anywhere near civilization. Problem was, the only thing she'd seen in the past hour that remotely resembled civilization was a decrepit looking gas station with a hand written
gone fishin'
sign hanging in the window.
Gone fishin' my ass! I need to pee!
Not to mention, her car was on the fritz. She scowled at the check engine light in irritation. The damn thing hadn't stopped beeping at her since her last turn some thirty minutes ago, and it showed no signs of stopping any time soon. It was a constant reminder that all she needed to make her weekend from hell complete was to break down in the middle of nowhere. The fact that her ninety-day warranty ran out less than a week ago added insult to injury.
Pressing her thighs together -- as if
that
would help the situation any -- she glared at the directions she'd printed off of Google maps. She knew she'd followed every step to the letter, and yet, here she was, lost on some nameless rural road with nothing but barbed wire fences separating her from the forest beyond.
Note to self: Invest in a GPS as soon as humanly possible.
Annoyed, she crumpled up the useless scrap of paper and tossed it unceremoniously to the floorboard. It landed with a swish and rustle among three empty water bottles and a Starbuck's venti mochachino cup that she was trying hard not to think about.
For what seemed like the hundredth time, she pulled out her cellphone and hit autodial only to get,
"You are currently out of the service area. Please try your call again later."
Snapping it closed in frustration, she barely managed to refrain from banging her head on the steering wheel. Call anyone from anywhere, anytime? Yeah, right!
Other note to self: Switch cellphone companies as soon as you have service.
Cursing, she flung the blasted thing to the passenger seat and tried to assess the situation from a logical perspective, which was becoming exceedingly more difficult considering that her bladder had somehow swapped places with her brain, and it was thinking rather loudly,
"I need to pee!"
This was all Phillip's stupid fault. She'd worked for the man going on three years now, and while he never acknowledged her in any way for the work she did, he somehow always managed to find more of it for her to do. This time, it was delivering paperwork out to one of their new clients who apparently couldn't wait until Monday or be bothered to find a damn fax machine. Not that anyone
could
find a fax machine out here, she thought, gazing out at the dense wall of trees rising up on either side of the road. In fact, by the way things looked, the guy probably didn't even know fax machines had been invented yet.
Ugh! Why in the hell had she agreed to do this on her day off? To think, she could have been home right now, the remote in her hand, a bowl of popcorn in her lap, and the fricking bathroom right down the hall. Instead, she was lost in the Gods-only-knew-where in a car she wasn't entirely sure would make it another mile and had no way to call for help.
And,
her bladder/brain reminded her painfully, she really, really,
really
needed to pee. As far as she was concerned, it couldn't get much worse than that.
She was just pulling off to the side of the road when her engine choked, then sputtered, and then finally gave out altogether. Her first response was to scream, "Damn it all to hell! What else can go wrong?!" Her second response was to bite her tongue and wish she hadn't just said that. Crossing her fingers, she hoped beyond all hope that she hadn't just invoked Murphy's law.
What can go wrong, will
was a phrase she was quickly coming to despise, and one that was sadly becoming her personal motto. She planned to put it on her business card just as soon as she made it home.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath that did absolutely nothing to soothe her, she added her broke down Taurus to her ever-growing list of problems. Right now, though, she had a bigger problem to worry about, and if she didn't do something about it soon, it would be all over her newly detailed interior.
At this point, she figured she had three options. Option One: She could wet herself, which might very well happen if she didn't come up with another solution soon. Option Two: She could squat behind the car and pray there weren't any other idiots lost on this road who might happen to drive by and see her. Or, Option Three: She could venture into the relative privacy of the woods.
On that last thought, she glanced towards the forest. Aside from the barbed wire fence with the giant black and neon orange 'KEEP OUT' sign affixed to it, it really didn't look all that imposing.
Alrighty then. Option Three it was.
She paused just long enough to grab a flashlight from the glove compartment before hopping out of the car and closing the door. Switching it on, she headed towards the woods. She was pretty sure she'd seen this scene in a horror movie last week. Young, unsuspecting, beautiful -- yes, beautiful, damn it! -- woman breaks down in the middle of nowhere and goes into the forest only to get hacked to death by a psycho chainsaw serial murderer.