The Voting Machine

Another World

An hour later, we made it to the freeway. I scattered fruit for Moonlight at the roadside while I waved oncoming cars with Annabelle in my arms. First a truck passed up by. Then pack of motorcycles. Then a family in an SUV.

I cursed in frustration. "Can't they stop and help us?"

"It's too late," Annabelle whispered. "Temo, there's one more thing I want to tell you. Something I should've shared a long time ago. I was too scared before. But now is my last chance."

"Wait!" I said, waving at another oncoming car.

"I have to tell you, Temo."

A horn blared and a white GM pickup pulled over onto the shoulder in front of us.

"We need to get her to a hospital," I told the driver as he stepped out of the car. "We were hiking and she got bit by a rattlesnake."

He opened the passenger door and helped me lay her across the seat.

"Get in. We're twenty miles from Barstow. Home, sweet home.," the man said, starting the engine while I sat beside Annabelle in the back. He was older but still vigorous. Bulging biceps and a solid gut poked out from the Harley T-shirt underneath his leather jacket. His forearms were a thick tangle of flames and smoke tattoos with different images hidden within the design.

"Can't thank you enough," I said. "We were out on the trails and she got bit by a rattler. Let me check a phone for the nearest emergency center."

His eyes lingered on us in the rear view mirror as a line of cars passed us on the shoulder. The pass was clear now but he didn't merge back on the road. He didn't even start the car.

"Aren't you gonna go?" I asked.

I figured he was studying my face so I kept it down, focusing on his forearm as it clutched the gear shift. I found myself staring at the images hidden in his tattoo. There were pictures of nude women and Bugs Bunny woven into the design. There was a swastika.

He lunged across the glove compartment and I leaned into him, grabbing his arm. I hit him hard in the back of the head as he fumbled for a Colt in his glove compartment. Blood ran through his gray hair and he leaned one elbow into the car horn.

"You're the one they're looking for," he said as I finally tore the gun away from his hand and pocketed his cell phone. "You killed all those people in Vegas."

"I'll kill you too if you don't do what I say."

I waited for a bus to pass. Then I hit him again and he was out cold. I pushed him over into the passenger's seat. I drank a few swigs from his open can of cola in the mug holder and gave the rest to Annabelle.

The Barstow Community Hospital was three blocks off the freeway, past a supermarket strip mall, a dialysis center and a vacant lot full of sand dunes. I parked the car in a shady spot in the right outside the emergency room entrance. I left a note explaining Annabelle's injury and kissed her on the forehead. The driver was still out but showing a strong pulse so I knew I hadn't hit him too hard. I used his phone to call 911 and ran away from the car. The last thing I saw was medics carrying them into the ER on gurneys.

I scrambled into a trash dumpster in back of the strip mall. It was only a matter of time before the sounds of sirens and choppers surrounded the hospital. The city was an island in the desert and I knew there'd be no way to run away without getting caught up in the dragnet. There was no way to escape. I studied the storefronts of the mall. A Vietnamese nail parlor, a sandwich chain, a coin laundry, a payday loan shop and a Dollar Delight. The helicopter was approaching overhead and I barely had time to shut the lid of the dumpster and burrow into the trash.

I waited many hours, careful not to make a sound. I finally fell asleep in my garbage cocoon and when I woke up it was nighttime. The parking lot was quiet and empty. I walked carefully, avoiding any street lights, until I made it to the display window for Dollar Delight.

"What they did to you and my father, Temo. I am not going to let it stand."

"I am going to have to run. I don't see how we can stay connected."

"We have the stores. Wherever you go, there's a store."

I smashed the entrance door and opened the latch from the inside. Fatima would've disabled the alarms that called the police, because she trusted them less than anyone at this point. But she probably kept the cameras inside rolling. I combed the aisle until I found a discounted set of markers in the kids section. I took a sharpie and scrawled a message in plain view of the camera. There was no way she could miss it.

ANOTHER WORLD IS POSSIBLE