What Dreams Are Made Of

Megan OBrien heard the popping sound just before she felt the steering wheel being jerked out of her hand. She quickly let her foot off the gas pedal and firmly regained control of the vehicle as she eased the car over to the side of the road. The thump thump thump of the flat tire smacking the road with each revolution parodying the beat of her heart as she realized exactly what had happened. Shed had a flat tire on probably what was the most barren stretch of road on her whole trip. Megan was on her way back from a fall writers conference at UNCW where she had been asked to teach a class about the proper way to prepare a book outline. She was just twenty-six but already she had lucked into a few book deals and was an aspiring meaning broke writer. When the college had offered to pay her traveling expenses and a small gratuity for a two-day seminar she had leapt at the chance. Now she wondered if those traveling expenses included fixing her flat tire. She unhooked her seat belt and opened the car door. Fortunately the flat was on the curb side so at least she wouldnt have to worry about someone hitting her if she was able to put on the spare. She went back and opened the trunk. Of course it was full of books files folders and luggage. She started unloading everything from the trunk putting it all on the back seat so she wouldnt have to worry about anything happening to it. She was on the third carton when a car pulled in behind hers. She looked back as she carried a carton to the back seat of her ten-year old Pontiac Bonneville. A man in his late thirties or even early forties got out and ambled towards her. A feeling of trepidation crept up her spine as she remembered all the scary Stephen King novels shed read. Why was she thinking the worst case scenario instead of the best? Her practicality returned as she reasoned that surely he would know a lot more about changing a tire than she did. Need some help there? he asked with a wide grin. He ambled over to the side of the car that was lower and knelt as he looked at the flat. He was rangy almost to the point of being gaunt. His graying brown hair was in bad need of a cut. That along with his scratchy-looking salt and pepper beard growth gave him an all over grizzled look. You got a spare and a jack? I think I can get it off he said smiling to himself at the secret double meaning of his words. Ducking out from under the back seat she turned and walked back to the trunk. Only one more box to move and then I think I can get to everything. Should be a spare and jack in this well under here she said as she indicated the felt covered bottom of the trunk. Megan removed the well cover and pulled out the spare and the jack. Within ten minutes the two of them had the spare on the car and the flat in the trunk. Megan lifted her hand to shake J.Js grimy one saying I dont know how I can thank you for stopping and helping me. I really appreciate it. Can I give you some money for your trouble? It would have cost me at least a tow bill if you hadnt come along. J.J. mumbled something and hung his head down a bit indicating that he wouldnt be adverse to that idea so she went around to the front passenger side to get her purse. Before she knew what had happened he had her pinned to the front seat with his knee high up between her thighs pushing her short shirt up to her crotch his arms holding her shoulders down. She was shocked scared and bewildered all at once. This couldnt be happening to her she knew better than to let this happen to her! Megan was struggling to get him off of her but it was to no avail. She was only able to kick her heels into his back from this position and that wasnt doing any good she couldnt get enough leverage to make her efforts count. In fact it was only making her more accessible to him. Suddenly a shiny silver knife blade was waved across her face and she froze.