The bell rang and the door opened. Every face that turned toward her kept watching, until the awkwardness was so great no one could focus on his meal. Eight truckers and the proprietor stared at the reedy girl with the short hair, short sleeves, and long shining dildo protruding from her skinny jeans. She was expecting it when two of them rolled their eyes at each other, and a third got off his seat.
"Well, looky here, little lady. Lessen' you think the carnival's in town..." Her smile silenced him.
"I'm looking for a young man who's been seen in this area. If you cooperate with me, you may leave here with your lives." She had foreseen their laughter, too.
"Now, what do you want a young feller fer, anyhow? Someone with your sass-mouth oughta..." but at that point he had touched her cheek. As though pushing an elevator button, she raised her limp hand to him and stiffened her fingers at his sternum. Flipping upside down, his face and chest crashed into the shelves over the counter, and he slid crumpled behind it.
"Holy shit!" one of them yelled as patrons rose. Two ran out the door. One put out a hand.
"Listen, now..." he said as another attacked her.
"Luke, don't!" a different man yelled and her canvas shoe shattered the assailant. He fell into a booth.
"Goddamn it, cut it out!" the man in the apron yelled, as another looked around for something that could be swung at Miranda, but all the stools were bolted down.
"You bitch!" a fat-body snarled, and pulled back his right arm while rising from his seat. She had all the time in the world, but only needed an instant. His back dragged down the wall, his face a sheet of blood. One man sat and simply stared at her with a mouthful of egg.
"That's it," the owner snapped, and reached for the phone. For a moment the room became blue and stank of ozone. He screamed over a fizzing like sparklers when white fire from the end of her dick pitted his face. As he died another man fell to his knees, his groin soaked. She approached the last sane one.
"N-Now, wait a minute," he said, as she picked him up by his lapels and bent him over his meal. With a fistful of belt she punched his pants down. He began to pass out, but she nudged her tool into his body, hands at her sides. She watched his blank face rise in the mirror, and imprinted my image in his mind. "The bathroom."
She saw me as I ran from the door, which I heard blown off its hinges when I dove out the window. Staggering to the parking lot I was knocked flat by a wave of force. I turned to face the thunder in a rain of wood and saw a hole in the wall the size of a train tunnel's mouth, from which the emotionless woman walked toward me. A car seemed to grunt and its horn yelped from being picked up, and held over her head.
"I'll let you feel my power one more time," she said. The ringing in my ears changed to the deafening whine of the tractor trailer that struck her the moment she turned to see it. Everything turned black in contrast to the explosion, and I crawled into a lope, unable to move in a straight line.
Several miles down the forested road, I stopped at an intersection and leaned forward with my hands on my knees. A truck pulled up from another route. The feline head on its side had irresistible pink eyes.
THAT WONT STOP HER
Once I'd blinked, the logo read Kat Town, and the traffic sign beside it said STOP HERE. The painted circles were green. I heard a clank from the rear of the vehicle, and walked to it, finding the door opened. A mattress of pet beds in plastic awaited me.
"I should know by now," I muttered, and was rocked to sleep.
Four hundred miles from there, I stepped off a bus in a city shown to me by portents. I was at the end of my savings, jobless, a stranger for all intents and purposes without a home. If I couldn't locate Sarah, I was doomed.
"You look like you could use a hug." To my left a girl offered a small teddy bear from a tray suspended around her neck. "Help our sorority. One dollar." I shrugged and gave her the wrinkled money from my soiled pants. She smiled widely and left to laugh about me with her friends. The tag on the toy briefly scrambled into an address. While I asked a beat cop for directions, the vendor's phone dialed in a hotel lobby.
"Confirmed sighting... On foot... Understood."
My destination was a three story brownstone. I climbed the steps and rang its bell. Without ceremony the door buzzed and I pushed it open. Sarah was at the top of the staircase. Her appearance registered as she clomped down to me: hair longer than before, and straight in a ponytail; a tight, white sleeveless shirt; black booty shorts; a blush smirk. She shook her head.
"Can I go to sleep?" She nodded, took my hand, and led me to bed.
