Free Origin - Season One by Nathaniel Dean James

all those movies!”
    For a moment she only looked at him, then they both started laughing.
    “You’re right, Jesse,” she said, “I should have called you.”
    Amanda offered to get another pitcher and Jesse almost agreed when he remembered he still had to drive back.
    “I’ve got to get the car home,” he said. “I don’t think getting pulled over and hit with a DUI is such a hot idea, do you?”
    “No, probably not,” Amanda said. “Should we go?”
    “Want to head down to Lake Morey?” Jesse asked.
    “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all week.”
    They pulled back onto the interstate and headed south. Mandy appeared unaffected by the four glasses of beer she’d had. Jesse, who’d only had three, looked almost stoned.
    “You gonna be okay?” Amanda said.
    “I’m fine,” he said.
    “You going back?” he asked after a moment.
    She looked out the window, her eyes distant, as if the question hadn’t really occurred to her until now.
    “My dad would kill me if I didn’t,” she said at last.
    Jesse was about to ask her what she wanted when he saw the car. It had pulled off the southbound interstate, moved across the central divide and stopped only a few feet from the road. Someone was standing at the back looking into the trunk. Jesse pulled over onto the side of the road and stopped.
    “That was a woman, right?” Amanda said.
    “Yeah, it was. Stay here, I’ll go see if she’s okay.”
    He got out and crossed the road. The woman saw him and moved to the side of the car.
    “Ma’am. Are you all right?” Jesse asked.
    “What do you want?”
    “My name is Jesse Corbin, ma’am. I live just down the road. Do you need a hand changing that tire?”
    The woman took a step toward him. She had a tire iron clenched in one fist. In the dim glow of the car’s interior he could only see her face. She looked haggard, exhausted. Mascara had run from her eyes in two black lines that made her look a bit like a sad clown. There was something mad in those eyes. The look of someone whose gears have started to slip.
    “You should leave,” Cynthia Ross said.
    “You sure you don’t want me to give you a hand with that?” Jesse asked, pointing at the tire.
    “You should leave,” she said again, her voice taking on an edge of hysteria.
    “Would you like me to call someone?”
    “No, don’t call anyone!”
    “Okay,” Jesse said holding up his hands, “I’ll go.”
    He decided they would call the police as soon as he got back to the car. The woman was clearly on something and he didn’t think pleading with her would do any good.
    “Wait!” Cynthia said.
    She opened the back door of the car and leaned inside. When she stood back up she was holding a small black bag. Jesse saw she was limping slightly.
    “Ma’am, are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?” he said.
    She ignored the question and held out the bag. “Take this.”
    “What is it?”
    “I don’t know, just take it. Please.”
    Jesse did and saw she had started crying again. If there had been any doubt in his mind that the woman was nuts, that dispelled it.
    “Go!” Cynthia said. “You need to get out of here.”
    Jesse left. When he got back to the car, Amanda was standing by the side of the road. “Is she okay?”
    “She’s crazier than a shithouse rat.”
    “What’s that?” Amanda pointed to the bag.
    “No idea.”
    “Shouldn’t we help her?”
    “You can try. But I think we would be better off calling the cops. I don’t have a cell; do you?”
    Amanda took her phone from her pocket. “No signal.”
    “Come on,” Jesse said, “there’s a phone outside Seven-Eleven.”
    When they were back on the road Amanda turned to look at the bag in the backseat. “What the hell is that?”
    “No idea,” Jesse said. “But I plan on handing to the Sheriff as soon as I see him. She seemed to think it was dangerous.”
    “I think we should take a look first,” Amanda said.
    She reached back and prodded it with