Erika
Crap. Snowing.
I was flying down a mountain backroad trying to get back to civilization, but the first big flakes were already hitting my windshield. Not a blizzard yet, but there was no way I’d be able to get to a decent-sized town in time.
I had my music going, listening to an a cappella group sing “You Can Fly.” Yeah, Peter Pan, don’t judge. Yeah, I’m jealous of the soprano’s high notes. On the other hand, she’d be jealous if they knew they were right.
I can fly.
That was how I missed the weather update.
I saw the clouds while I was flying, though, and golden eagles don’t need a degree in meteorology to know when a storm’s blowing in fast. I flew back to my car, shifted back to myself, got dressed, and jumped in.
Wish I could blame my eagle for driving like an idiot, but I can’t. For one thing, my eagle wasn’t driving, and for another, I’ve lived in mountains long enough to know you don’t drive that fast once the snow starts sticking. But I did, and that’s why I hit a slick spot, did a 180, and hit the ditch with a whump.
Well, shit.
Airbag didn’t deploy. Wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing; at least I wasn’t hurt, and airbags are expensive to replace. So I got out of the car, bundled up, and looked around. Car seemed to be drivable if I could get it out of the ditch, but both of the passenger-side tires seemed to be messed up. And I only had one spare. And I was in the middle of nowhere. Well, not quite the middle of nowhere; I saw a cabin across the street partially hidden by the trees. There was smoke coming out of the chimney, so I wasn’t completely cut off from humanity.
I could have lifted the car out of the ditch, but I’d still need someone out here to fix the tires. And they’d probably wonder how I got the car out of the ditch by myself, and that wasn’t a question I wanted to answer. I decided to leave the car in the ditch.
Grabbed my cell phone to call AAA. No bars.
Well, I was looking for some place remote.
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