Her feet go down to death; her steps lead straight to the grave.

Jones heard his mother’s words echoing in his mind. “No matter where you go, trouble always follows.” Irked that she was right he tried to find a way out. He drove towards his own burial and he had company, there was a woman in the car heading toward the same destiny.

“I’m tired.” Jones glanced at the gun whiles yawning. “I need coffee.”

The thug looked at his friend in the backseat, “I’ll go.”

Jones pulled over at a petrol station and waited until the thug left.

“I have to blow up a tire.” He reached for the door.

“Stop!”

A gun touched his neck.

“I’ll do it. Don’t move, don’t twitch.”

The thug got out of the car, and Jones floored it. It had been unbelievably easy. He kept the speed until the thug was out of sight, then he slowed. After a couple of turns, he headed down a back road and parked in the woods. The car had to go; he dragged the smashed bint out before he torched it.

“You saved my life.” She flapped around, dazed from the drugs.

“I saved myself.” Jones watched her get up without hiding his contempt. “You’re on your own now.”

“You can’t leave me here!” She wobbled down the dirt road on pink stilettos.

Flames engulfed the car behind her and for a moment, he considered pushing her into them. Adding murder to his troubles seemed unwise; he turned and started walking instead.

“Wait!” She staggered in his tracks. “Where are we?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t leave me.”

He heard a thump and turned; she crawled, dragging her leopard coat in the muck.

“Come here.” He pulled her up.

“Where are we going?” She slurred while he dragged her along.

“Forward.”