post 8x14
Ellie does what Dean tells her. She runs. The days stretch into weeks, which then blur into months. She can’t keep track of town names, state lines. She can’t remember the last time she spoke to her mother. Three weeks ago, maybe. Maybe four.
Her junker breaks down somewhere outside of Sioux Falls, five miles from the nearest gas station. Ellie grabs the hex bag and gets out of the car. She peers down the long, empty stretch of highway. The road, shimmering in the heat, looks like it goes on forever.
Sighing, she runs a dirty hand through dirty hair and starts to walk. The air smells like gasoline and horse shit. Her jaw tightens.
About twenty minutes later, a car starts to slow down and sidle up to her. Shit. It’s a cop. Ellie wonders if she shouldn’t just jump into the brush and hide. But it’s too late now, the cop has spotted her. If she runs now, she’d probably look even more suspicious than she apparently already does.
The window screeches as it rolls down. Leaning across the passenger seat is a woman with dark hair and smiling eyes, who looks more like a soccer mom than a cop. “Need a lift?”
Ellie usually doesn’t trust cops as a rule, but damn if it isn’t sweltering out here, and beggars can’t be choosers on hot asphalt. Besides, this woman has this way of speaking out of the side of her mouth that reminds Ellie of her mom. She takes it as a sign – though of what, she’s not quite sure.
“Depends.” She wipes the sweat out of her eyes and peers into the car. “You know any good mechanics?”
“Used to,” says the cop. The crooked smile fades. “Used to be a scrap yard down the road. Burned down few years back.”
“Ah.” Ellie isn’t quite sure what to say to that, but the policewoman looks almost sad when she says it, and Ellie feels like she should say something, though she’s not quite sure what. “Well,” she peers at the nametag on the cop’s chest, “Sherriff Mills, that and a paddle still gets me up shit creek.”
“Just get in,” she says. “Don’t make me use my mom voice.”
Ellie obediently opens the car door and climbs into the passenger’s seat. She’s never been in a cop car before. Talk about weird. “You aren’t going to put me in jail, are you?”
“Nah. Ain’t a crime to hike while brown in my town.” Mills offers her hand. “I’m Jody.”
“Ellie.” She shakes Jody’s hand hesitantly, but the woman has a firm grip and an even firmer smile, and Ellie can’t help but give in.
“Now don’t you worry about a thing, Ellie,” Mills says. Her eyes flick up and down, giving Ellie the once over. “We’ll get your car up and running in no time. And we’ll see if we can’t get cook you up a better hex bag while we’re at it. That one’s seen better days.”
Startled, Ellie looks down at the little leather pouch still in her fist. “How did you –“
“Because I do.” As Jody pulls back onto the road, she looks over at Ellie and winks. “Let me tell you, you don’t get to be the sheriff around here without learning a thing or two about crazy.”
For the first time in weeks, Ellie smiles.
