Evelyn: On the Move

"Hey missie!, you gonna gimme my money or what?" An annoying, yet sadly familiar voice called. Evelyn sighed inwardly hoping she wouldn't have to go through this conversation again. She turned around to her pungent, unshaven, all around repulsive, renter Carl. Sadly, she knew she hoped in vain.

"Don't get your panties in a wad Carl! I'll get you your frickin money!" she spat, hoping to end this quickly.

"Hey, I don't want your sass missie! I want my money!: he replied staggering over to her, obviously drunk agin.

"And I'm telling you Carl you'll get it. Why don't you go back to your smelly room and drink your beer?" she retorted, not very kindly.

"I don't want your promises, I want my money!" he yelled spittle flying. Eugh. Disgusting. Drunk people in general were repelling but Carl in his state, was even more so. Still, she supposed she could use that to her advantage.

"Hey old man! Your fly is unzipped!" She chuckled to herself as she walked away while the idiot checked his pants. Classic. Sadly, her amusement was short-lived. This conversation was probably a signal. It was most likely time to move on. Jumping from motel to motel until the owners got to demanding for their money. That was her life. She sighed, this time out loud, and unlocked the door to her room. She combed room for any silver it might yield and threw it with her belongings, which wasn't very much. An old energy bar, silver, her trusty pistol, and the picture of her parents. Her real parents. She lifted the frame and looked at the two. They were walking on the beach, hand in hand, while passionately gazing into each others eyes. The look they shared was only one of love. She longed to find someone who could love her that much but it was a pointless hope. She was a member of an almost extinct race, that no human knew about, and the government that ruled in the name of "freedom," and "liberty" wanted her dead. Yep. The universe definitely decided to screwed her over.
          She tore her mind away from the current path it was on. This was no time to dwell on the past. Longings and desires only served as weaknesses, and weaknesses got you killed. She didn't plan to die. She was a survivor, and she knew it. She steeled her nerves, threw her backpack on her shoulders, walked out the door and didn't look back.
          The sun was going down as she set off. She had already ripped of to motels in this town so she knew it was time to skip town before her notoriety got a little to high. She set off down and had gone about a mile when an opportunity presented itself. She was passing a pick-up truck filling up a a gas station. She spied the owner whistling while pumping his gas. He set the pump back and walked over the the convenience store. He disappeared through the entrance and Evelyn sprinted across the road, hopping into the bed of the truck and throwing a ratty tarp stored in the back over herself. She waited until she heard the whistling again. She held her breath, and lay stock still. She heard the front door open and slam, and the truck rumbled to life. They lurched, and were off onto the road, increasing speed. She lay still as the truck rumbled on, bouncing from the potholes in the road.  She felt her eyes began too droop from the exhaustion off the day and let the soft bounce, and reverberation of the truck slowly lull her her into a fitful sleep.
          She awoke do the lurch signaling the halt of her ride. She suspected whoever was her driver was probably parked at his home and waited for him to walk away. Suddenly the tarp was yanked away, and she was face to face with a sort, scruffy man.

"What the-" the man didn't even finish his sentence before Evelyn was out of the truck and running full speed to a thick copse of wood in the distance. Her backpack bounced with every step as she sprinted into the trees. She kept running until she was sure she wasn't being pursued. She stopped and doubled over, hands on her knees sucking in the chilly evening air. When she had regained her breath, she righted herself and continued on in the direction she was going. Her weary limbs protested with every step, but she ignored it and continued onward. Her heart was still thumping in her chest as she walked, and she mentally calmed herself. This was her life. Once again, she was on the move.

The End

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