Page 30 of Factory Thief

Jack and I plop down on the metal guardrail beside the highway, panting as the sun warms us.

“That was an experience.” Jack probes his ear in an effort to remove trapped seawater. I wring out my hair and laugh with more exultance at being alive than mirth.

“Yes, it certainly was.”

“I have no idea how we’re going to get to the flash drive now,” he says. “It’s a long drive and a longer walk from here.”

“O ye of little faith.” I stand up and thrust my thumb out. “Haven’t you ever hitchhiked before?”

JACK

“Hitchhike? Are you nuts?” I shake my head. “We might as well advertise our livers for a serial killer’s next meal.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Our chances of running into a serial killer are practically zero.”

“Practically?”

“Yeah, I used to do it all the time before the Factory took me in, and a couple times when things got rough, after. You’ve just got to put out friendly vibes and they’ll pick you up.” She perks up at the sound of an approaching vehicle. “All right, this is our chance. Now, remember, friendly vibes.”

Friendly vibes, friendly vibes…I do my best to look and feel friendly, approachable. Definitely not a serial killer, even though, with what sea and flight have done to my clothing, I could pass for a homeless guy. Pick us up, we’re harmless…

The car doesn’t slow when the driver sees us. If anything, it zips right on by. Victoria puts her hands on her hips and frowns as the car disappears around a bend.

“Huh.” She shakes her head, incredulity dripping from her tone. “That’s never happened before.”

“Maybe he was just unfriendly.”

“Maybe you were. I told you to put out friendly vibes. Okay, here comes another one, we’ll try again.”

I paste a smile on my face and thrust my thumb out. A blue pickup truck idles past, the elderly driver either not seeing or not caring about our request for a ride.

“This is a bad idea. Maybe, if we keep walking, we’ll come across—”

“We’re exhausted and battered. The last thing we need to do is try and walk the twenty odd miles it will likely take to reach the next outpost of civilization.”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “Then what are we going to do?”

She studies me for a long moment. “I think I’ve hit upon the problem, why nobody’s stopping to pick us up.”

“What’s that?”

“You. You’re the problem.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Nobody trusts you because you’re a man. I wouldn’t give you a ride if I didn’t know you.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Just hide in the bushes and leave this up to me. I’ll get them to stop and then you can come out of hiding.”

“Sounds good.” I jog behind a tree, feeling a bit miffed at having to go through with the ruse. I guess I don’t give off friendly vibes after all, but maybe it’s because I’m out of practice. Friendly vibes can get you killed in prison.

I’m dismayed to see Victoria roll her trouser legs up to expose her legs, and unbutton her shirt halfway. I guess she’s the bait to set the trap. It works, too, as a man in a gray sedan pulls over.

“Thanks so much,” she says as he rolls down the window. I come trotting out of the tree line. “I thought nobody was going to stop.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be a good Christian if I let a sweet young girl remain out on the cold, nasty highway—aaaah!”

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