The truck stop was quiet. Too quiet, almost. I hadn’t worked there long, but long enough to know that something felt eerie as the giant digital clock hanging over the beer fridges rolled over eleven. A few people still milled about inside the truck stop, but none of them were shopping for anything. They were playing the slots, watching TV, or using the microwave one last time before calling it a night. It was a harsh contrast from the beginning of my shift, when the dinner rush started and truckers started coming off the road in droves.

I tried my best to look busy. I don’t know why it mattered to me - it’s not like the truck stop was a family business and I needed to keep up appearances. It was a corporate-owned chain and no one was even paying attention to me, but I still pretended to find things to do behind the counter.

One-by-one the travellers wandering around inside the store filtered out and I found myself alone in the jarring environment of the store. Everything inside was harsh lights and noise, flickering fluorescent fixtures that illuminated everything below in blue-white light. Neon lights that advertised beer and cigarettes. Lights and sound from the slot machines, the TV blaring in the truckers’ lounge. But outside it was another swampy mid-August night in coastal Georgia. Cicadas chirped incessantly and each time the doors swung open to admit a customer, warm, wet air and the song of the night pressed inward, a reminder of how strange and unnatural my environment was.

In the distance heat lightning lit up the night sky, too far away to be heard, but near enough to be appreciated as it raged over the Atlantic. Despite the massive air conditioner I found myself dabbing sweat from my brow again and again, the oppressive humidity too much for the system to truly keep up with.

The doorbell chimed and I waved at a man who ignored me on his way to the showers. Then I went back to pretending I was busy, finally settling on emptying the trash cans since I really had nothing else to do. It wasn’t really my job, but they were beginning to overflow and the person who was supposed to be doing it had vanished on a smoke break a few hours earlier and not bothered to return.

By the time I finished collecting all of the smaller bags of trash and loading them into large, black trash bags no one had come into the truck stop and I didn’t feel guilty about slipping outside to toss the bags into the dumpster. I shouldn’t have left the store unattended, but my employers shouldn’t have left me alone on the night shift, either. “I guess it’s not really their fault Hank took off in the middle of his shift,” I grumbled to myself as I hauled the trash bags out to the parking lot, but it did piss me off that they didn’t really seem to care. After an hour with no sign of him I’d called the manager at his home and told him about Hank’s disappearance.

“Let me know if you hear from him,” was all he had to say.

I struggled and finally got the bags into the dumpster, then turned back to the store and walked as quickly as I dared. Despite the late hour the heat was overwhelming and sweat dripped down my back from the short walk and simple task. “I have got to get out of Georgia. I just have to figure some way out of here,” I talked to myself to stave-off the heebie-jeebies the dark parking lot gave me at night. It didn’t matter how much I interacted with truck drivers, a lot of them still worried me. And they weren’t the only strange things lurking in the truck stop parking lot at night.

I slipped inside the truck stop and immediately began apologizing. “I’m so sorry, I just stepped out for a minute. I hope you weren’t waiting long,” I told the man waiting at the counter.

“No, no, it’s no problem,” he smiled warmly as I made my way back behind the counter where I belonged. He had great teeth and a nice smile. A dark stubbly beard almost hid his sharp jawline but couldn’t quite hide the small daggers tattooed beneath his stretched ear lobes. He wasn’t a pretty boy, but there was something magnetic about him that sucked me in instantly. He looked strong, and I liked that.

“What can I help you with?” I asked after looking at the counter between us and seeing nothing on it.

“I actually was wondering if you could help me with something,” he looked down at my nametag, “Lacey.”

I felt my smile slip a little as I wondered where this was going. “Oh?”

“Something broke on my truck and I just need someone to hold a flashlight, then I can fix it myself. But I can’t see what the hell I’m doing out there in the dark,” he chuckled easily, as if he hadn’t just asked a young, mostly helpless woman to go outside into the darkness with him.

“Uhm,” I shuffled my feet behind the counter while I searched for an excuse. “I’m not really supposed to leave the store unattended–”

“But you just did.”

“Yeah. Well, I didn’t really have much choice. The other person that’s supposed to be here took off in the middle of his shift–”

“So, you’re alone here?”

It was just a simple observation that anyone paying attention could have made, but the fact that he actually said it deepened my unease. After a lengthy pause, I nodded.

“My name is Nathaniel. Nathan– call me Nate,” he extended his hand over the counter and I giggled while I shook it. He didn’t look that much older than me but his aura was weird. If I was blindfolded I would have guessed he was old enough to be my father. He felt rock-steady, dependable and in-charge, but talking to him felt like he held all the cards. “I promise it will only take five minutes, but if you really can’t help me I’ll knock on some doors and see if anyone else is still up.”

“No, don’t wake the other truckers up,” I told him, shooting an uneasy glance at the surveillance camera over my head. My boss would be able to tell I had left, if anything happened, and I would almost certainly lose my job. And I needed my job. It was my only shot out of Hell. But it wasn’t my fault that I was alone. I locked the cash register and grabbed my own flashlight before signaling at Nate to lead the way.

“I really appreciate it. I know this is weird and probably scary,” he murmured as he held open the door for me. I didn’t say anything, just listened as I followed him into the depths of the truck lot. Hundreds of trucks sat, dark and idling or with their APUs running to combat the thick Atlantic air. I wondered how far away he had parked, but near the middle of the lot he finally approached a black truck with a logo I didn’t recognize. I followed him with the beam of the flashlight, then followed his beckoning gesture as he made his way to the back of the trailer.

Don’t. A chill ran up and down my body as he disappeared behind the trailer. I stopped at the last set of tires and waited, afraid to follow. Then he reappeared, smiling and holding a pouch of tools. “Alright, let’s see if we can do this in record time,” he grinned and scooted past me, his muscular frame too-briefly rubbing against me as he squeezed by. In the damp air his scent lingered and my heart fluttered. The woody, smoky spice of pure tobacco, something sweet like caramel, and spicy clove went straight to my head and made me dizzy. Oblivious to my reaction he squatted beside the next set of tires, then came back to me and adjusted the beam of the flashlight in my hand. “I need this right, there,” he smiled as he released my hand. Cologne, I realized when he came close and held still.

I couldn’t see what he was doing, not that I would have had a clue what it was anyway. He squatted beside the tires and messed with something between them - a wire, a hose? I wasn’t really sure what I was looking at, but he seemed to know his way around a truck. “That should work until I can get back to the hub,” he stood and rubbed his hands on his jeans, leaving a streak of black fingerprints on each thigh.

I don’t remember the walk back to the truck stop with any clarity. I was just suddenly back behind the counter, a little lightheaded and holding a half-drunk bottle of Gatorade. “You fainted on me out there. Must be the heat,” he held out a package of cookies across the counter. “On me.” Empty. My head was just empty as I stared down at the package in his hand.

“I’ve never fainted before,” I murmured, my voice muffled inside my own head.

“There’s a first time for everything. Did you eat today?”

No. It was impossible to eat around my stepfather. I should have lied and said that I had. I meant to. Instead I shook my head.

The stranger, Nate, looked thoughtful and sighed. “What’s your schedule like?”

“I work four to midnight every night except Thursdays.” Why did I answer him? I knew I shouldn’t tell a stranger my schedule.

“I will see you when I come back this way on Friday evening, then. Eat before I get here, please. The fainting is cute but frankly kind of frightening.”

I nodded obediently. I drank the Gatorade. I ate the cookies. When I looked up again he was gone and my relief was walking in, the electronic chime sounding to announce the door had opened. I felt slow and muddled and realized I was staring at them like I didn’t know who they were.

“Your brother is outside. Did you hear me, Lacey?” He frowned.

“Yeah.”

In the morning I realized I’d left work without clocking-out and without getting my purse from the break room. I rolled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, feeling weak every step of the way. “I must be coming down with something.” I flicked on the bathroom light and peed, then stood in front of the mirror and studied my pallid complexion. I was never exactly rosy-cheeked, but I looked like death. A strange shadow caught my eye and I turned my head to the side to see it better.

My breath caught and my fingers moved of their own accord to rest in the marks on my neck. Three black fingerprints on my throat and neck, and two more on my collarbone. Memories of the trucker kissing me, the flashlight dropping to the asphalt and rolling away, and the cold metal of the trailer against my upper back hit me in waves. Goosebumps rose up on my skin and the world spun for an instant, then it stabilized and I was left with the swirl of feelings inside of me.

I should be afraid. But I hope I see him again.