During my quest to go through all my aunt’s papers, I came across another fragment of the Rose Red saga. Interestingly enough, this scrap was part of a bound sheaf of papers, as if at one time it had been part of a book of some kind. I’ve updated some of the technology, but otherwise left the story as it was written.

One night, Rose Red took a long drive through the countryside, trying to shake the restless feeling plaguing her. It had been a long week full of work and family and goings-on, and her mind simply would not shut down and allow her to sleep.

Down the mountain she went, singing along to her favorite tunes, letting the hum of tires on the road soothe her.

It was dark out. Clouds blotted the skies in great patches, hiding the stars and the moon. Rose Red leaned forward against the steering wheel, looked at the sky out her car’s windshield, and sighed.

She’d needed starlight and gotten rain. Didn’t that just figure?

Unperturbed, Rose Red drove on along winding country roads past sleep-darkened houses toward the nearest town of any size. Gradually, streetlights flickered into view, throwing yellowed light onto cracked sidewalks, and the roads widened into highways traveled by more and more vehicles, mostly long-haul semis hauling tractors or loading crates.

An hour from home, she spotted a convenience store in the distance, a newer looking FleetMart, and decided to fill her car up, grab some coffee, and stretch her legs. She pulled carefully into the parking lot and alongside a pump, turned the engine off and grabbed her wallet.

A sharp rap hit her window, right beside her ear, startling her so badly, she fumbled her wallet. It slipped out of her hands, bounced off her left knee, and fell onto the floorboard with a decided thunk and the distinct sound of loose change spilling onto the rubber floor mat.

Well, for pity’s sake, she thought.

She sighed and glanced through the driver’s side window into the brightly lit portico sheltering the pumps. A uniformed police officer stood beside her car, leaning down. His face was narrow and lean and weathered, like he spent a lot of time in the sun, and under the broad rim of his hat, his dark hair was shot through with silver. He wore a wry grin and tinted aviator sunglasses, and motioned for her to roll her window down.

Reluctantly, Rose Red cracked it a bare inch. “Is something wrong, Officer?”

“Yes’m,” he said in a smooth, rich baritone. “One of your taillights is out. If you’ll pop the trunk, I’ll see if it’s just a loose wire, or if you’ll need to change the bulb.”

She blinked at him, stunned, then reached down and flipped the release located on the bottom left-hand side of her dash. He could’ve given her a ticket, and instead was trying to help her out. How often did that happen anymore?

The trunk popped open, and the officer straightened. He touched a single finger to the brim of his hat and nodded. “Just a jiffy, ma’am.”

As soon as he cleared her door, Rose Red opened it and slid out, and hurried after him to the rear of her car. The night was moist and cool. Cars swished by on the road, their headlights flaring against the night. Light flashed against the coal black clouds and a moment later, thunder rumbled in the distance.

The tater wagon, her mother used to called it.

The officer had one hand buried in her trunk, behind the taillight, and the other braced on the rear panel, and was leaning into the trunk.

Rose Red peered in behind him. The trunk light wasn’t strong enough to illuminate the trunk’s interior, even with the bright, florescent lights shining overhead. “Need a flashlight?”

The officer shook his head. “Just about…got it. There. Let’s see if that did the trick.”

Rose Red hurried back to the front of the car, started the engine, and flipped her headlights on. She leaned out and said, “Did it work?”

“Sure enough.” The trunk shut with a soft bang, then the officer walked into view and beckoned to her. “Come see.”

She walked back to him, leaving the car running. Sure enough, her taillight shone bright red. She turned to the officer and stuck out her hand, grinning for bear at him. “Thank you, Officer. You sure have saved me a lot of hassle.”

He grinned back at her and gripped her hand, and his was firm and work-roughened against hers, and a tad damp. “Anything for a traveler through our parts. Where you headed tonight?”

“Just driving around, watching the storm roll in.”

“Good night for it.” He tipped his sunglasses down, flashing bright green eyes at her. “You drive carefully now, Miss.”

He winked at her, slipped his hand out of hers, and sauntered toward the Sheriff’s patrol car parked along one side of the FleetMart’s parking lot.

Rose Red stared after him, a little shaken. His pupils were narrow slits bisecting the unnaturally green iris, like an amphibian.

No, it couldn’t be.

The sky burst open just then, showering a hard rain down on the gas station. Water ran in rivulets along the concrete and splashed into the covered area, soaking Rose Red’s shoes.

She stepped back out of the water and shook her feet out, then glanced back to the lawman. Just before he walked into the shadows surrounding his car, he turned around and waved at her, and she could’ve sworn she spotted vertical gashes on his throat opening and closing under the rainwater streaming in under his hat and into his collar.

She blinked once, and he was gone, disappearing into his car, and she laughed. That officer was a nice man, a human, nothing more, nothing less. Anything else had to be the shadows and the rain fueling her sleep-deprived imagination.

Coffee, she thought with a firm shake of her head. That’s what she needed, and maybe a snack, then it was time to head back up the mountain and into bed before her mind conjured up another trick to play on her.