Vampire Dancing Read Online Free PDF

Carpenters fell out onto the floor along with some papers and a pen. She continued to search and found another tape - a ninety minute TDK one. It was wound about a third of the way through. Something was written in blue ink on an adhesive white paper strip stuck across the top: The Best Of Classic Rock .
    It was just what the doctor ordered.
    She popped it into the slot and cranked up the volume. Santana's Black Magic Woman trailed off before the familiar sound of Boston's More Than a Feeling filled the speakers.
    Alyssa put her arm out the window and tapped the side of the door in time with the music. Van Horn was non-existent in her mirrors now. She had spent the day there, holed up in a darkened room within a small bed and breakfast inn. She'd slept reasonably well, but, longing for nightfall, had found herself waking occasionally to gaze at an old analog clock on the bedside table. She hadn't eaten in almost a day - at least, not properly. This old car belonged to her last bite. He'd been an asshole anyway, and was now slowly rotting in a shallow ditch a few miles south-east of Sierra Blanca. Yes, it had been gentlemanly of him to respond to a damsel in need of a ride, but choosing payment in the form of a free trip down the love canal ... well, that had been a mistake.
    He'd said his name was Bradley Evans, and he'd come on strong.
    Evans ...
    She decided this would be her new last name. Alyssa Evans had a nice ring to it.
    The Buick's beams illuminated the journey ahead. Painted lines in the middle of the blacktop came sweeping from the darkness, only to be swallowed up by the car's front bumper. It was a mesmerizing sight, if you stared at it long enough.
    Alyssa took one last drag on the end of her cigarette then flicked it out the window. She blew the smoke past her cherry colored lips and looked up. A smattering of stars shone brightly against the ink blue sky.
    She welcomed the sight. It made her feel secure.
    She drove for sometime, content as she listened to the music. Meat Loaf's Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad came and went, as did Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl , but it was during the playing of Cover Of The Rolling Stone by Dr. Hook that she spotted a car up ahead, stopped on the west-bound strip. It looked like a younger woman was in need of assistance. She considered turning a blind eye. She was heading in the opposite direction, after all, and it wasn't like it was her problem.
    Then she thought of men like Bradley Evans.
    She turned down the music and pulled onto the shoulder. The reflection in the side mirror was of a completely desolate stretch of highway. The road ahead looked exactly the same. She opened the door and got out of the car, then pushed her hands into the rear pockets of her jeans and strolled onto the median strip.
    The girl she approached had ash blonde hair. It was tied back in a pony tail. She wore a bright cotton blouse and cut-off denim shorts. Cute ankle socks were visible above her sneakers. Alyssa reckoned the Bradley Evans type would approve.
    The young woman watched Alyssa draw closer. She waved the small flashlight she held and called out, "Can you help me?"
    Joining the girl, Alyssa asked, “What exactly happened?”
    “It just died,” the girl replied. “While I was driving.”
    Alyssa walked to the back of the vehicle. It was a black Volvo 940 according to the badge. It looked like a better car than the one she was driving, but at least her car was operational.
    She rejoined the girl. “Did you have the radio on?”
    “Yeah,” the girl answered. “Kept cutting out before everything went."
    “What about the lights on the dash?”
    “They went dim. I guess that's when I realized I might be in trouble.”
    Alyssa thought for a moment. “Mind if I take a look?”
    “Go right on ahead,” the girl said.
    Alyssa got behind the wheel and turned the key. Nothing happened. She got out of the car.
    “Any ideas?” the girl asked.
    “You do a lot of driving today?”
    “Uh