1
A gun metal, black Shelby mustang skyrocketed down the road fast enough to make a race car look like a Sunday driver. Behind the wheel, an adventurous, well-dressed, witty, Harrison Paris. His constant companion, Rex the German Shepard, sat beside him. The desert horizon was alive with moonlight. Cold air flooded through the mustang. Rex’s head hung by the window corner with just the tip of his snout hanging out into the winter’s night. H. P’s eyes were focused on the rear-view mirror. His hands gripped the wheel harder.
H. P read a lot of horror books, went to see scary movies in the theaters whenever they came out, the things that go bump in the middle of the night didn’t bother him. But tonight was different, he was terrified. H.P ran with this gang when he was growing up, they started it together as kids. They never agreed it was such a thing, they just went with it. No fancy motorcycle vests, no varsity jackets, no matching hats. Everyone had a nickname. H.P was his. Some called him Lovecraft, after one of his favorite writers. Some called him lover boy, Dirty Harry, or Frenchie. He was well known around town for being one of the original remaining members. Everyone else called the group the Knights of Ill Will. He knew they were coming for him. There would be no possible way they wouldn’t. He took off into the sunset, just like he imagined he would, but he didn’t know how long he was going to be able to keep up with the happy go lucky ending. That Hollywood dream was fading away. H.P pressed the gas to see if the mustang would run any better.
“Hey Rexy boy, she drives pretty nice, don’t she?”
He took a hand-off the steering wheel and reached over to pet the dog.
“What do you say boy? Where do you wanna go? A nice warm sunny beach or do you like freezing your ass off?”
He lit a cigarette.
“South America sounds about right. That’s where we will be safe.”
H.P had traveled the world again and again. The certainty of a destination eased the Shepard’s anxiety, he left the window and circled in his seat and laid down. H.P Flicked his cigarette out and rolled the windows up and the warmth of the heater filled the mustang. They both pictured what South America had in store for them.
