Chapter 1

Jeremy Renthorp felt the tire give a fraction of a second before he heard the pop of the rubber separating. The steering wheel jerked in his hands to the left. He knew that he was over correcting even as he pulled the wheel to the right. Trying to compensate he let his hands slip off of the wheel and let the tires pull in the direction they wanted. Once the car had stopped jerking back and forth and had settled on a direction he grasped the wheel again and started easing the vehicle to the shoulder of the luckily deserted highway.
Once he had the car stopped he took a moment to gather his frayed nerves and opened the door. The blistering sun shone brightly on the metallic silver paint, making Jeremy squint as he walked around the BMW to look at the damage. The front passenger tire was only shreds of rubber hanging from the alloy wheel. The wheel itself had crimped and chipped around the rim.
Kneeling next to the damaged wheel Jeremy looked into the wheel well and saw that his plastic wheel skirt had been ripped down by a flying piece of rubber and was wrapped around the axle, melted and misshapen from the friction heat. Jeremy couldn't tell much more about the damage while on the side of the road.
Standing up he looked up and down the long stretch of lonely highway without seeing another car in sight. There was nothing in view that wasn't flat farmland with no workers tending the fields. With a sigh, he started back around his car determined to call for help.
Opening his door and sliding behind the wheel Jeremy reached into the cubby on his dash for his cell phone. Climbing back out of the beamer he looked both ways on the road, out of habit more than any sense of danger from oncoming traffic. Tapping his screen to bring it to life he sighed when he saw that he had no service here in the middle of nowhere.
Fetching his keys from the ignition Jeremy walked to the front trunk of the BMW I3 and looked for the spare tire. To his dismay he found that the I3 only came equipped with an inflator kit to seal and re-inflate a flat tire. There was no way he was going to be able to inflate the shreds of rubber that were attached to the damaged rim on his car.
Jeremy had been heading West when the tire blew and he knew that there was nothing but more emptiness to the East so sliding his phone into his pocket he reached back into the car for his water bottle and car keys. After locking his car he turned West and started walking.


An hour down the road Jeremy was still berating himself for not doing more research when he bought his “road trip” car. He had purchased the car only a week ago, to make this little trip of his more comfortable. Next time he will look in the trunk before signing the papers.
He could hear Sully now, as if he were walking right beside him on the hot blacktop. “Next time you should listen to old Sully. Stay home I said. This is a waste of time I said. You just need to get laid I said.” At this point Sully would cough out his rough tobacco stained laugh. “But you wouldn't listen to me would ya? Now look at ya, stuck in the middle of the desert heat.”
“This is not the desert,” Jeremy motioned to the gently swaying fields of green vegetables. “Besides, I needed to get away. You know that I needed some space. I couldn't handle all those reporters asking when I'm going to finally make a comeback.”
“And more to the point, you are nothing but a figment of my imagination. So, shut up and go away Fake Sully.” With a shake of his head and a small humorous laugh Jeremy kept walking down the highway.
He was almost past the sign when Jeremy registered that it was there. Stepping back to get a better look, he saw that it was a state highway sign for gas, it pointed south. On the other side of the highway there was a small road that had more dust than asphalt showing on its surface. The sign said 10 miles to the gas station promised.
Looking west along the highway and not seeing anything between him and the far off horizon, Jeremy decided ten miles sounded like an afternoon walk. With a small ironic smile on his face he started south.

MAVEN
POP. 1459

The sign was on the side of the road, green and bold, and obviously lying. Jeremy looked ahead and could see the buildings on what must have been Main St. for this tiny Kansas town. To the left was what looked like a bar, with an actual hitching post out front! On the right was apparently a general store. Behind the store was a grain tower with railroad tracks running next to it. A diner. A post office. Even a small tennis court with sagging nets. As far as the eye could see, old run down buildings, but not one single person in sight.
Standing in the middle of Main St. Jeremy turned a slow circle in the overly warm afternoon sunshine. No cars, no people, not even any animals. He stood still and listened close. No sounds, just the gentle breeze as it passed through the soybean plants in the fields behind him. Curious, but not yet unnerved he headed into town.
He passed the bar on his left without getting close enough to look through the dust coated windows. It was three in the afternoon, in a small town like this he doubted anyone would be in the bar at this time. On the other side of the street was Jacob's General and Sundries. Stepping onto the sidewalk Jeremy went to the doors. There was a sign on the door that was flipped to “open”. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the dim interior of the general store. The lights were on. He could hear the hum of the refrigerated units in the back of the store, there were no other sounds.
“Hello,” he called.
No answer.
Jeremy walked over to the counter and leaned over the edge. There was no one hiding behind the glass cabinet with an odd collection of goods in it. On top of the cabinet was a box of long yellowish beans. Next to that was a bowl of freshly shelled beans. Someone had left in the middle of work.
“Anyone here,” Jeremy called out louder as he walked toward the back of the store. He looked down every aisle but found no silent proprietor.
At the back of the store stood a set of double swinging doors with a sign on them that read “EMPLOYEES ONLY”. Jeremy pushed one door open partially and called out again, fruitlessly. Pushing the door all the way, he entered the storeroom of Jacob's General and Sundries.
The back room was just as dim as the front. The bulbs in the ceiling lights were probably sixty watts or less and the rafters and shelving were all made of some dark wood stained even darker. Shadows encroached on the room at every turn.
Walking through the close packed shelves Jeremy came out into a receiving area. There was a roll up door on the back side of the wall, closed now with nobody watching the store. From the looks of things Jeremy assumed the railroad tracks for the grain silo ran on the other side of that door. Next to the door was a desk covered in papers and forgotten memorabilia. It looked like the desk where all unfinished work went to die.
On the other side of the receiving area there was a wooden set of walls that looked like they might house a bathroom. Next to the alleged bathroom was a wall mounted water fountain that was more red than silver due to all of the rust. Jeremy's water bottle had emptied before the ten mile jaunt off the highway and was now laying on the side of the road caught in the weeds, trying to blow away with the wind.
Walking over to the fountain Jeremy leaned over and pressed the button. He waited to see what color the water was and breathed a sigh of relief when it came out clear. Before his lips touched the wet stream coming from the fountain he heard the metallic click behind him.
“Don't move scumbag, you're under arrest.”
Jeremy put his hands up on either side of his head and stood up slowly. Turning around he kept his hands up and confronted the man with the gun pointed at him. His pulse was racing and his mind formulated and discarded several things to say by the time he registered that the older man was wearing a uniform.
“Hello Officer, I was just...”
“Shut up,” the Sheriff's voice was gravely, not rough like a smoker but like a rock slide echoing in a deep valley. “I'll do the talking. You just answer my questions.”
“What are you doing in my store?”
Jeremy put his most ingratiating smile on his face. “My car broke down and I was looking for some help.”
“And you thought snooping around the back room of my store was a good way to get help?”
“I couldn't find anyone to...”
“So instead of staying in the public area, or better yet, outside where you belong, you thought it was a good idea to go through my personal belongings?”
“I'm sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot, Jacob is it?” Jeremy was getting tired of being interrupted.
“My name is no concern of yours, you can call me 'Sir'.” The officer moved closer still training his gun on Jeremy. “Turn around and put your hands on your head.”
His fingers laced tight behind his head, Jeremy turned around and faced the wall again. The officer began patting him down, up the outside of one leg to his armpit, down the other side. Then a quick check on his inner legs and waist. Then, Jeremy felt his left arm pulled behind his back roughly and handcuffs attached to his wrist. His right hand followed.