Cracks in the Glass
As heat builds inside the trailer, Heather faces a choice—resist temptation or let it consume her. One mistake could ignite everything, and cracks are forming in the life she and Madeline built.
Welcome back to The Devil’s Road, where vengeance runs as thick as blood through the veins of Sequoyah County. In Issue #18, we return to the small trailer where Heather and Madeline are struggling to carve out a life. But with Heather’s recent discovery, the tension between them is only building.
If you missed yesterday’s post, you can catch up on Paperwork here.
Now, settle in, my Faithful Ramblers, for Chapter 5, Issue 4 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.
A small ceramic tube affixed to a circuit board senses the increasing temperature inside Heather’s trailer. The sun’s rays creep up the exterior walls of the little home, steadily increasing the heat inside. The tiny tube’s electrical resistance decreases with every degree. As resistance drops, more and more electricity flows, electrifying the connection as the day gets hotter and hotter.
Heather’s been awake for a couple of hours. The single crystal she pulled from the bag yesterday sits on the upturned plastic bin, her makeshift coffee table, in front of her. She’s been staring at it since her eyes opened. She doesn’t remember getting out of bed. She doesn’t remember where she got the pipe she’s holding. She’s just negotiating with herself, and so far, the better angels of her nature are winning.
Heather jumps when the window unit’s compressor kicks on, and cool air slides across the tiny living room. The sun’s peeking through the cracks in the blinds, and Madeline will be up soon enough. It’s time to call this one a draw.
The pipe and crystal disappear into Heather’s pockets as she walks back to the bedroom. She peeks in to see Madeline still wrapped up in the sheets. Heather slips back into bed quietly and closes her eyes to enjoy a few more moments of peace.
“Never heard somebody who thinks as loud as you do,” Madeline whispers.
“I wake you up?” Heather apologizes.
“Yeah, like two hours ago when you went into the other room. I’ve been lying here wondering when you’d come back to bed. It got so quiet in there. I kept thinking about getting up, but I was…”
Madeline trails off, unable to finish the thought. She and Heather share the same fear, but Madeline has no idea how close to reality it came this morning. The pipe in Heather’s pocket presses against her leg. She probably should’ve put it away before getting back into bed.
“Maybe we should just throw it all away,” Heather concedes.
Madeline rolls over, and the two lay nearly nose to nose. They look into each other’s eyes. Madeline’s weighing the truth of Heather’s words. It’s not like Heather to pass up an opportunity like this unless she’s genuinely afraid.
“Anything else you remember about yesterday? Anybody hanging around that might come back today looking for that lost duffle?” Madeline asks, watching her closely.
Heather thinks earnestly for a moment. It was the same old truck lines. Actually, it was slower than usual. Probably because of the storms coming in.
“No, I don’t think so,” Heather says.
For a moment, Madeline imagines them throwing it away. They could drive out into the prairie, find one of the many lonely highways, and just toss it into a ditch. It would be easy to pretend none of this ever happened. But maybe not for Heather.
Heather grew up knowing nothing but the hustle. She’s lived in more hotel rooms than homes, dragged from small town to small town by her father. He was always looking for the next mark in his game. Could Madeline stay if they got rid of the drugs? Would Heather just go back and get them when she wasn’t around? Madeline knew that she would. So far, Heather hadn’t smoked any, but Madeline could smell it. It was in the house. It was on Heather.
Madeline places her hand on Heather’s jaw and twirls a lock of her hair between her fingers.
“Did you take any of it?” Madeline asks.
Heather stiffens. “I told you I wouldn’t, and I meant it.”
Madeline searches her eyes and, after a beat, nods. “Okay. Then there’s nothing else to worry about.”
She wraps Heather in her arms, and they embrace in the filtered morning light as it spills over the sheets. The air conditioner has cooled the room enough to make it that much harder to get out of bed. Madeline gives in first, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge.
Madeline pulls her long red hair into a bun on top of her head as she slowly gets dressed. Heather watches as she pulls on her blue jeans and boots. One strand of hair falls loose, dangling between her shoulder blades.
“Looks kinda curly this morning,” Heather says.
“Yeah, well, I guess that’s your fault,” Madeline replies with a smile as she leaves the room. Normally, that would’ve made Heather smile too, but the pressure to take the pipe out of her pocket is mounting. She feels the heat rising inside her, an electricity that, if sparked, will burn down her entire world.
From the bed, Heather hears Madeline getting the coffee started. She reaches into her pocket and fingers the pipe. She made it through another night. It was easier when you had someone to…
What did she do with the crystal?
Heather feels around in one pocket, then shoves her hand into the other one. It’s gone. She tosses the sheets back to search the bed. There’s a light tapping sound as something small and hard hits the floor.
Shit!
Heather pops out of bed, down on her hands and knees. Her pulse quickens, and she can hear her heartbeat in her ears. She’s got to find it.
There’s a beep from the kitchen as Madeline finishes the coffee setup. Heather’s eyes dart from under the bed to under the dresser. Her hands slide over the floor, feeling for the hard little rock. Every second feels like an hour.
Heather sees it. It rolled all the way to the back of the dresser. She stretches to reach it, her fingers rolling it forward on the linoleum floor until she finally palms it.
“What are you doing? Did you drop something?” Madeline asks, stepping back into the room.
“No. No, I just dropped a, uh…” Heather stammers as she stands, slipping the rock into her back pocket and pushing past Madeline into the living room.
“Coffee ready?” Heather asks, trying to change the subject.
“What did you drop?” Madeline presses.
Heather pours herself a cup of coffee, ignoring the question. Madeline senses the rising tension.
“What did you get out from under the dresser, Heather?” Madeline demands.
Heather pulls the crystal and pipe from her back pocket and sets them on the kitchen counter. Madeline’s face flushes with anger. She needs to get this shit out of here.
“Did you take any more?” Madeline asks as she picks up the rock and pipe.
Heather shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. Madeline believes her.
“It’s just so much, and I thought maybe I could take a little, but…” Heather trails off, her voice breaking as she struggles to maintain control. Her body shakes with anxiety and anger—anger at getting caught, at giving up her stash, at being back in the same place she always ends up.
Madeline slips the pipe and crystal into the duffle full of meth.
“The rest of it’s in here?” Madeline asks, holding up the bag.
Heather nods.
“I’ll be back tonight,” Madeline says. Heather looks at her like a cornered animal.
“You coming back?” Heather asks, her raw state on full display for the woman she loves.
With her hand on the door, Madeline hesitates. She doesn’t know. The smart thing to do would be to leave. Leave this shitty little trailer and take the money for herself. Heather will always be an addict. They will always be one bad day away from tragedy.
“Pack this shit hole up. We’re moving to California tomorrow,” Madeline says as she walks out the door.
Heather crumples to the kitchen floor, overcome by a mix of relief and sadness. She has no resistance left. The air conditioning shuts off. The little ceramic tube’s resistance builds back up in the cooler air, but the heat inside her is still smoldering. Her tears finally fall freely, cooling her soul in the raw, ugly aftermath.
If this week’s issue got your blood pumping, refer a fellow traveler to join the ride and unlock some devilishly good rewards!
The Devil’s Deal:
REFER 2 FRIENDS: Unlock 1 month of The Devil’s Road for free—no strings attached.
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REFER 10 FRIENDS: Score 6 months free, along with a signed, mailed copy of The Devil’s Road pilot screenplay—your own piece of the story, right in your hands.With Halloween just around the corner, I couldn’t think of a better time to bring you, my Faithful Rambler, to the end of Part 1 of The Devil’s Road. Now six chapters in, I want to offer a refresher for any New Witnesses to the trail of bloodshed left behind by our enigmatic Driver. His identity remains a mystery—for now—but Part 2 may finally bring the truth to light.
