LOCATION — Some country ass road. DATE — Late August. STARTER — Closed for @intheseaofred
The screech from his tires is a warning that comes too late.
He tries altering course with a spin of the steering wheel, but it's an overcorrection. The tires skid first and then roll in protest, losing traction with the asphalt beneath him. His knuckle-white grip makes no difference; the car is unmoored. An unchained beast obeying no master... Teodósio has only enough time to brace as it careens off-road and pitches him over the shoulder. The vehicle is briefly airborne. The slam back to earth is violent, shattering the front windows and deploying the airbags. It's an ugly sound on an otherwise peaceful road, but the cacophony settles almost as soon as it starts, sputtering into an eerie, smoky silence.
For a spell, even the driver is still.
His head swims, there's a trickle of something down his neck, and he'd very much like to take a nap if it weren't for a low, bothersome hiss coming from what he suspects is his engine. It takes a herculean amount of effort to drag himself up. His muscles groan in protest, and his vision is doubled as he tries to assess the damage done to his car.
That's when he realizes it's the wrong side up. Ergo, not something he can fix himself.
Teodósio slumps back against the headrest, momentarily defeated.
But a few minutes later, an idea comes to him. He pats the pocket of his trousers, finds what he's looking for. His vision is still doubling in lazy halos, but if he squints he's able to decipher the words on his cellphone screen as he navigates to the address book to find a contact he'd added only recently. It's in the column under A – Ariya's Boy Toy – and he taps it quickly and raises the phone to his ear.
In reality, it's the number to Dusty's Garage, because it's the closest link he could find between the license plate on the sleek, black vehicle idling outside of Isolde when he'd descended the restaurant's steps, only to see a blur of unmistakable satiny green in his peripheral vision, and then his ex feeling up someone who looked a lot like a chauffeur.
Well, not how he'd have planned it, exactly, but there's always room for serendipity.
"Hello, yes... I'm in need of some assistance... Probably a tow-truck. Well I don't know exactly, this wasn't my final destination as you might imagine, but it's off the shoulder of Mulberry road. I doubt there's a whole parade of us... Yes, would you mind terribly?"
Is anyone injured, the voice on the other end of the line asks, and Teodósio remembers the feeling of wetness on his neck, reaching to touch it haphazardly. His fingers come away slick with blood, and he makes a face. "No... Just the tow truck is fine. Thanks."
