Charlie Prologue

The Cadillac cruised down the highway, its headlights cutting through the night. Rain dancing in their twin beams. The soft whisper of the wipers and the gentle ruble of the engine was all Caroline could hear as she unwrapped the cellophane on a hard pack of Chesterfield cigarettes and pulled one out with her teeth. She pushed the electric lighter on the dashboard in and turned the radio on.

Johnny Cash and June Carter singing It Ain’t Me Babe filled the Caddy’s interior. Caroline sang softly along with the music. The light of the cigarette held in her mouth illuminated her face as she lit it. She was wearing a pair of white leather driving gloves.

In the path of her headlights, on the side of the road, was a bearded man in jeans and a denim jacket held over his head in the rain. A woman stood next to him, her hand held out, her thumb extended. Caroline eased the big car over to the side of the highway just past the couple. They ran up and the man pulled the big car door open. Caroline called out to him over the rain.

“You’ll have to lean the seat forward, there you go hon, you got it.”

The man got into the backseat, dripping wet and grinning, his wet jacket back on. Once he was in, he pulled the front seat back into the place and the woman got in. She was wearing a pair of wet green corduroy pants that looked black in the dark of the car. Her brown leather vest was over a blue turtleneck shirt. An amber gemstone hung from a silver chain around her neck.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. We were getting drenched out there!” she said.

“I wasn’t expecting all this rain when our last ride dropped us off,” The man said.

“Where you headed to?” Caroline asked, turning to the man.

“Ultimately, New Orleans, but weʼll take Flagstaff if youʼre going that way.” Caroline smiled.

“Iʼm going that way. Iʼm Caroline,” Caroline said, rolling her window down and tossing her cigarette onto the wet highway. She held her hand out, still wearing those leather gloves. The woman took her hand and shook it, smiling.

“Iʼm Jodi and this Ranse,” she said. Ranse put his hand over the seat and Caroline shook it.

“Whatʼs in New Orleans?” Caroline asked.

“My Nanna and Poppa are in Baton Rouge and then weʼre gonna party in the French Quarter for a whole week.” Jodi said.

“Jeeze Jodi,” Ranse said, laughing. “Weʼre just sightseeing and traveling. If we happen to have a drink or smoke along the way, we won’t complain!” Jodi laughed. Caroline looked at her and then laughed herself. She pulled the Cadillac back onto the highway.

“I like your dress! Your whole scene is righteous!” Jodie said. Caroline laughed.

“Yeah, this Donna Reed thing is really your bag. It works. You got the leather gloves, the old timey dress… Itʼs wild.”

Caroline looked at Jodi and smiled.

“Well, you never know who youʼre going to run into, so I try and look nice whenever I go out,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at Ranse and smiling in the dark.

“I like your necklace, Jodi,” Caroline said, looking at the amber stone. Jodi smiled and touched the necklace, rolling the stone in between her fingers.

“Thank you. It was my mom’s,” Jodi said. She looked back at Ranse, who motioned for her to keep talking.

Caroline switched the radio to FM and found the rock and roll station the kids like.

Credence Clearwater Revival was singing The Midnight Special.

“This is a really nice car,” Ranse said from the back seat. Jodi ran her hand along the back of the leather seat. “It sure is. It smells nice too.”

“Thank you, I like it,” Caroline said. She looked at Jodi in the dark and smiled. Jodi cocked her head to the side, as though she didnʼt quite understand why Caroline was smiling.

“Okay, I need you to pull over up here,” Ranse said, pointing ahead.

“Why?” Caroline asked.

“Because youʼre gettinʼ robbed, hon,” Jodi said. Caroline looked over and saw that Jodi was now holding a folding knife. It looked dull and rusty. Caroline smiled at her.

“Alright then,” she said and eased the car over to the side of the road, chuckling to herself.

“Whatʼs funny?” Jodi asked. Caroline shook her head. She looked back at Ranse and winked at him.

“I was just going to take you Flagstaff. You two walked right into this. That's what's funny.”

“Kill the engine,” Ranse hissed from the back seat. Caroline turned the key off.

“Walked into what?” Jodi asked. Caroline grinned, then in two quick motions, she took the knife from Jodiʼs hand and planted it in Ranseʼs throat. Jodi screamed. Caroline pulled the knife out of Ranseʼs neck and blood ran into his shirt from the sputtering wound. He clawed at his throat, trying to scream but only managed to sputter and gurgle. Caroline punched him in the side of the head, and he fell over on the back seat. Caroline turned back to Jodi, holding the knife.

“Oh, my fucking God!” Jodi screamed. She fumbled with the door handle, but before she could get her ahold of it, Caroline grabbed her other hand and buried the knife on her wrist. She screamed and tried to pull her arm away, but Caroline held her in place.

She pulled the knife out and blood ran from the wound. Caroline pulled Jodiʼs wrist to her mouth and covered the wound, drinking the blood running out of her in great greedy pulls. Almost immediately Jodi stopped struggling and screaming and seemed to drift off out of consciousness. She was falling into that place they go when Caroline feeds on them. That memory place.

Caroline relaxed in her seat, Jodiʼs wrist no longer moved. After a few minutes, Caroline let Jodiʼs wrist fall, limp, to the seat. She was quite dead. From the back seat Ranse was still valiantly struggling to stay alive, his neck sputtering.

“Oh, come on,” Caroline said, looking over the bench seat at where Ranse was laid out and twitching.

She got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and then leaned the seat forward. Caroline grabbed the collar of his jacket and hauled him out of the backseat and onto the road.

Ranse was trying to talk, his hand holding onto the wound in his neck as Caroline went to the back of the Cadillac and lifted the trunk lid. When she walked towards him carrying a tire iron, Ranse held his hand up and tried to scream. All that came out was a wet wheeze. Caroline brought the tire iron down on his forehead, caving it in and silencing him. She dropped the tire iron on the road with a loud clang, and stood up straight. She raised her arms above her head and stretched, then reached down and picked Ranse up by his belt and collar and hoisted his corpse to the back of the car and into the trunk.

Caroline then went to the passenger side and grabbed Jodi by the wrists and then stopped. She reached down and unclasped the necklace from Jodiʼs cooling neck and dropped it into the ashtray. She hefted Jodi up over her shoulder and deposited her in the trunk.

With the two hitchhikers safely stowed away, Caroline got back behind the wheel and sat for a moment, gathering her bearings. She switched the radio station from the FM contemporary station to the AM station with the old crooners and country and western music she liked. Patsy Cline was singing Crazy. Caroline took her pack of Chesterfields from their place in the ash tray and slid one out and into her mouth, then turned off the wipers and headlights.

She lit her cigarette and then leaned her seat back. She took her gloves off and dropped them on the floor behind the passenger seat. Listening to the rain always calmed her. She wasnʼt upset, or even particularly bothered, but she did have to kill two people unexpectedly, and the rain was helping her center back up. She didnʼt feel bad about having killed them, as they were threatening her with a knife after all, and she wouldnʼt have felt bad even if they werenʼt threatening her. She honestly didnʼt care. It was just wasnʼt in her nature to concern herself with the feelings of her food.

She really hadnʼt planned on killing them when she picked the hitchhikers up. She saw people who needed a ride in the rain, and she offered them one, and if they happened to lose a little blood in the process, before being sent on their way, what was the problem? The fact that they tried to rob her was on them. She could have, she supposed, handled that situation less violently. Hell, she could have given them the 25 dollars she had in her purse and let them go on their way, but what was the fun in that?

Plus, they threatened her. That demanded a response, and that response was justified, as far as Caroline was concerned. She was a little disappointed that she would have to wash out the seats and floor of the car when she got home. She was also annoyed that the earthly remains of those two assholes would need to be disposed of.

As soon as Jodi pulled the knife, Caroline knew immediately that they were both going to die, but that she could only feed on one of them, and the other sheʼd just have to kill. If she had it her way, she would have taken them home and drained them properly and given herself a week or two supply, but most of the guyʼs blood ended up on the rainy pavement, draining from the wound in his neck. Sheʼd already forgotten his name.

Caroline closed her eyes and took another drag of her cigarette and listened to the pattering of the rain on the convertible top. She liked the way Flagstaff smelled in the rain. She preferred the smell of the desert in Southern California, but she was no longer welcome in Southern California, so she got her consolation prize, a solitary life in Flagstaff, Arizona.

It was a life that was straining the outer reaches of her loneliness. Right then, however, Caroline didnʼt feel lonely. She felt strong and satisfied, but there was still something missing in her life. Caroline was never someone who needed the validation of another person to survive, but she also deeply appreciated it when she got it. She liked having someone to tell her that she was valued and appreciated. That wasnʼt too much to ask. Caroline didnʼt think so anyway.

There were times, over the years, when sheʼd found that in someone, but that never lasted. It never meant anything to her. It was always attached to some other desire. Some other need. It was never affection or praise or love given freely… but the company was nice.

Was she lonely? Caroline thought she might be. Bored, certainly. That was part of it. But lonely, too. It wasnʼt just about validation and praise. It was about having someone to share your experience in the world with. Someone who remembers you when you were happy. Because sometimes itʼs not enough to just remember it yourself. Sometimes happiness has to be shared to feel like itʼs real.

Caroline raised her seat back up and took the necklace out of the ashtray She held it up and turned it over, looking at the stone. It really was beautiful. She started the engine, turned the headlights and wipers on, and drove back out into the night.

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