A Siren’s Song
The Devil’s Road: CHAPTER 01: THE DANCE
Welcome to Issue #2 of The Devil’s Road, a serial novel following the exploits of Samantha Hart, a Sequoyah County Sheriff, full of vengeance and fury using her badge to hunt down her sister's killer as she uncovers a trail of bloodshed that coats the heartland.
Miss the first issue? Check out Issue #1: Gore, Oklahoma by clicking the link below.
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And now, please enjoy the second issue of … The Devil’s Road.
In 2004 an Oklahoma Bureau of Investigations analyst discovered a crime pattern along the Interstate 40 corridor between Oklahoma and Mississippi. Subsequently, The Federal Bureau of Investigations (F.B.I.) started the Highway Serial Killings Initiative. They discovered over 500 bodies of women along the interstate highway system with more than 200 potential suspects, a trail of bloodshed that coats the heartland. The Devil’s Road is a serialized novel based on this horrific discovery.
Sandy flips on the tiny light over the vanity in the motel room bathroom. She leans into the mirror, searching for runs in her mascara and lipstick. She smiles. The unflattering downlight exposes her misshapen jawline and teeth. The smile fades, but she keeps her lips parted, examining. She always had such a beautiful smile as a child.
Sandy sets her purse in the sink and unzips it again. She pulls out the small .22 pistol, unscrews the cylinder pin, and rolls the cylinder into her palm. Two bullets are spent, leaving her with only three shots if she needs them.
She removes the spent .22s, tosses them in the toilet, pushes the cylinder back into the pistol, replaces the pin, and flushes. She watches as the empty casings spin in the watery tornado and disappear down the drain.
One eye squints as she stares down the iron sights with the other. She pulls back the hammer and watches the unspent round roll toward the barrel. She uncocks the gun and slides it into her boot. Her blouse comes off, and her skirt slips to the floor. She looks at herself again and smiles in her underwear, this time remembering to keep her lips locked together.
Her hand hovers over the doorknob, but something pulls her in a different direction. She glances back at the sink. Both hands dive into her purse, rummaging for something she’d rather leave untouched. She can’t find it.
She dumps the purse’s contents into the sink and finds a small baggie with little white-bluish rocks inside—crystal meth. She pulls out one of the crystals, a pipe, and a lighter, and begins her ritual. When the smoke finally enters her lungs, she smiles. There’s a tingle in the back of her throat. This is going to be a nice one.
She slowly exhales through her nostrils, maximizing the chance to get a direct shot into her bloodstream. The warm, welcomed buzz starts at the back of her head, envelops her skull, and then slowly flows down through her body until it reaches the floor. She’s grounded, ready. She kills the light and opens the door to the hotel room.
