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Soren walked up to the van and nodded. "If you're heading in the same direction, I'd appreciate the ride."
"Climb in. There's still space in the back."
The guy behind the wheel answered cheerfully.
Soren opened the door and squeezed into the crowded rear seat.
Five young people were already inside the van.
"I'm Sally Hardesty. This is my boyfriend, Jerry."
The blonde girl in the passenger seat introduced herself warmly, pointing at the driver.
She then gestured toward the guy sitting next to Soren. "And this is my brother, Franklin."
Soren turned to look. Franklin was a heavyset young man whose legs were withered and useless. He sat in a wheelchair that had been secured at the very back of the van.
Soren gave him a small nod.
The other couple in the van only got a quick mention from Sally. Soren didn't press for names.
He thanked them briefly and gave his own name.
"Soren? That's a cool name."
Sally smiled, her gaze lingering on him for a couple of seconds. "What are you doing all alone out here on this road? Road trip too?"
"Something like that."
Soren leaned back against the seat. "My truck broke down. I was trying to get to Maine."
"Maine?"
Sally spread her hands with a regretful look. "That's too bad. Our road trip route doesn't go that way. We—"
"Oh, right. Soren."
Jerry, who was driving, suddenly spoke up and cut her off.
He kept both hands on the wheel, clearly annoyed that his girlfriend was paying so much attention to the handsome stranger.
"We're just wandering around on this trip. No real schedule. We stop wherever we feel like it."
Jerry glanced at Soren through the rearview mirror. "We might end up staying in the next little town for a day or two. If you're in a hurry—"
"It's fine."
Soren nodded.
Any distance this ride could give him was better than walking.
Static crackled from the van's radio as they drove deeper into the area. A local news report came on.
"…In recent days, a cemetery near Newt County was the site of a horrifying mass grave desecration. Multiple recently buried bodies were stolen. Some of the remains were arranged into grotesque art pieces and left on top of headstones. Police are currently investigating…"
The atmosphere inside the van grew heavy.
"I just hope Grandpa's grave is okay…"
Sally sat in the passenger seat, hands clasped tightly together.
Their whole detour into Texas had been because of this exact news report. Their family's old house was near Newt County, and after their grandfather passed, he had been buried in the same cemetery that was now all over the news.
Sally couldn't relax and keep traveling until she checked on it herself.
Franklin wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Don't freak yourself out, Sally. That cemetery's huge. The guy probably didn't pick Grandpa's grave."
"This place is giving me the creeps," Jerry muttered, clearly unhappy that his girlfriend had insisted on coming here.
They continued chatting on and off in the tense silence.
"Hey, there's a hitchhiker up ahead. Should we stop?"
Jerry suddenly eased off the gas. Up ahead on the side of the road stood a ragged-looking man with a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. He was waving frantically at the van.
"There's no room left," Sally said after glancing back. Her eyes flicked over Soren. "We're already packed."
Jerry nodded and stepped on the gas again.
As the van sped past, the man went berserk. He chased after them, screaming curses and spitting at the vehicle.
"What the hell is wrong with that guy?" Franklin scoffed. "Chasing the damn van."
"Thank God we didn't pick him up," Sally said, patting her chest in relief. "Good thing we ran into Soren first. If it had been that guy, we probably would've stopped out of pity."
The other couple quickly agreed, still shaken by how unhinged the hitchhiker had been.
Soren leaned back in his seat. This is the famously friendly state of Texas.
They drove for another hour.
"Shit, we're almost out of gas."
Jerry glared at the flashing red light on the dashboard and smacked the steering wheel. "There's a gas station up ahead. We need to fill up."
The van pulled into a rundown gas station by the side of the road.
Once they parked, everyone climbed out to stretch their legs. Sally grabbed the other girl and headed toward the public restroom on the side of the building. Jerry walked up to the pumps and shouted for the owner.
A middle-aged man slowly came out of the shop. He took one look at their out-of-state plates and shook his head.
"Tank's empty. You picked a bad time. The fuel truck won't be here until tomorrow morning at the earliest."
"No gas? Then how the hell are we supposed to leave?"
Jerry ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
Franklin called out from inside the van. "Hey, boss! Do you know if the old Hardesty place is still standing? I'm his grandson. Wanted to stop by and take a look."
The middle-aged man's eyes flickered at the name. He wiped sweat from his neck with a towel and gave them a warning.
"You city kids should stay away from that old abandoned house. You'll get yourselves hurt for sure."
He pointed back at his shop. "Why don't you come inside and grab some barbecue instead?"
Jerry looked at the hungry faces around him and ended up buying some. While paying, he learned from the owner that if they kept driving a little farther, there was a place called Newt County that should have gas.
They got back in the van and kept going.
Sally glanced at Soren with an apologetic look. "Looks like we might be holding you up a bit, Soren."
"It's fine. Safety first."
Soren took the sausage the owner had handed over and passed it to Franklin instead.
If he ever came back to Texas, he was seriously considering claiming he was a vegetarian.
After driving a while longer, Jerry kept glancing around. His eyes suddenly caught sight of an overgrown path leading off the highway. Through the trees at the end of it, the vague shape of a two-story abandoned house could be seen.
"Look over there! Is that the old house you were talking about?"
Jerry hit the brakes.
Sally and Franklin leaned forward to look. Their faces lit up with excitement.
"That's it! I can't believe the place is still standing!"
The van stopped at the side of the road.
Sally, Jerry, and the other couple immediately threw open the doors and rushed out.
Sally turned back and called to Soren. "Soren, I want to walk around the old house for a bit. Reminisce about when I was a kid. You can rest in the van if you want, or come take a look with us."
"Go ahead. I'm good."
Soren smiled.
Once the others had run off, the only ones left in the van were Franklin in his wheelchair and Soren.
Franklin watched his friends disappear into the distance, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. His useless legs meant he couldn't move around like a normal person.
He turned toward Soren, looking a little embarrassed, and pointed at a wooden board stashed under the van.
"Hey… Soren, could you maybe…"
Soren understood immediately and nodded.
He didn't bother grabbing the board to use as a ramp.
Instead, he walked around behind Franklin, gripped both sides of the wheelchair, and lifted it—chair and person together—straight out of the van with almost no effort.
"Ah!"
Franklin let out a startled yelp.
By the time he realized what was happening, he was already on the ground outside.
Franklin stared at Soren in shock, eyes wide. The wheelchair plus his own two-hundred-plus pounds had to weigh at least two hundred and fifty. And this guy had just picked it all up like it was nothing.
"I'll push you over there."
Soren placed his hands on the handles. "There are branches and holes everywhere. You'll get stuck if you try to wheel yourself."
"Thanks, man."
Franklin said gratefully.
Soren started pushing the wheelchair toward the abandoned house in the distance.
What was Texas most famous for?
Poker. Fried chicken.
And chainsaws.