Dry dust swirls in the car's wake as it speeds along ninety-five towards Las Vegas. The light is starting to fade, but the day has not lost its heat. The highway has been abnormally devoid of cars, and the only sounds breaking the desert silence are the car's engine, and its radio.
A new noise adds itself to the mix; a loud buzzing, complimented by a red light on the dashboard. The engine noise dies with a few shuddering clunks.
“Crap!” mutters Renny as he guides the slowing car onto the shoulder, and lets it coast to a stop.
“What's wrong?” Brenda asks, her eyes hidden behind over-sized dark glasses.
“Car's dead,” Renny, short for Adrian, not Renfield, as many people assume, says as he turns the key. The engine chugs, but doesn't start.
After getting out of the car, Renny props the hood open, and proceeds to examine the engine, hoping to find something obviously wrong.
“I'm gonna call for a tow truck,” Brenda called over the music.
“Go for it,” he said, still staring at the engine
Brenda slides her phone out of her pocket, and looks at the screen: no bars, “I'm not getting a signal.”
“Nope, not out here you're not,” Renny explained, his disembodied voice coming around the hood, “Phones only work in the middle of nowhere in movies... well, except horror movies.”
“So what do we do?”
“We can either wait for someone to pass by, and hopefully give us a lift, or we start walking. I vote for waiting here, this is a major highway, and someone is bound to come by eventually,” he rounds the car, and leans in through the open window.
Renny turns the key off, and the radio goes silent, leaving only the sound of the empty desert, “Better turn that off so the blinkers'll last longer,” he says as he turns on the emergency flashers.
“Oh come on,” Brenda protests, “How much of an effect could that have?”
Renny shrugs, “Hopefully we won't have to find out.”
Brenda reclines her seat and closes her eyes, listening to the stillness of the desert.
Brenda's eyes open suddenly as she hears something like, “Dowenlervusmurmmer”. She sits up, and looks out at the small hill next to the road.
She hears it again ; clearer this time, “Don't leave us, mommy.” Two voices, maybe little girls.
“Renny, did you hear that?” Brenda asks, taking off her sunglasses.
“Hear what?”
Brenda gets out of the car, “Hello?” she calls, “Is someone out there?”
“Don't leave us, mommy,” the voices plead.
“There, did you hear that?” Brenda asks, certain the voice came from over the hill.
“The only thing I hear is you,” Renny says, peeking around the car's hood at her, “You're not still stoned, are you?”
“I'm not high, there's someone out there.”
“Trust me, Bren, there are no little kids out here. I doubt there's anyone out here for ten miles in any direction,” he puts a hand on her shoulder, gently urging her towards the open car, “Why don't you get back in the car so you'll be out of the sun at least. Drink some water.”
Brenda pushes his hand away, “No, dammit, there are kids out there; I have to help them.” She starts away from the car and off the side of the road.
Renny grabs her shoulder more forcefully this time, and stops her from moving forward, “No, fine, I'll go and look. You stay here.”
“Don't leave us. mommy,” the voices call, louder now.
Renny still doesn't hear them. His boots crunch against the dry, cracked earth as he stalks away from Brenda and the car. He carefully climbs the hill, stumbling a little as the parched ground crumbles beneath his feet.
“Don't leave us, mommy.”
When he reaches the top of the hill, Renny turns and all Brenda can see is and outline of him against the setting sun, “There is nothing down there but more dirt. No kids, no speakers, nothing!” he calls down to her.
“Don't leave us, mommy.”
“But I can hear them!”
“Hello!” Renny cried, his voice echoing in the emptiness. He motions to the silence around him, “No one's out here but us.”
Brenda stares at him, and says nothing.
“Dammit, fine!” Renny turns and starts down the other side of the hill, disappearing from view, “It's too damn hot for this sh-” he stops.
“Renny?” Brenda calls, “Did you find something?”
Silence.
“Ren?”
Silence.
“You're not funny, asshole!”
“Don't leave us, Mommy.”
The voices sound different this time; deeper maybe.
“Renny? Come back, lets try the car again,” fear creeps into her voice.
“Don't leave us, mommy.”
It's definitely different now. It sounds like there's a third voice.
“Don't leave us, mommy.”
The new voice isn't saying “mommy”, it's saying something else.
“Ren, please come back!” Brenda yells.
Don't leave us...” the voices say, and she listens hard. She finally realizes what the new voice, a man's voice, is saying, “Brenda”
She knows that voice, and despite the heat, Brenda shivers.
Brenda gets into the driver's seat, and turns the key, but only the radio starts. Deciding that she is willing to risk the battery dying faster, she cranks the volume up as loud as it will go.