The engine light had been blinking for over ten miles, but now it was steady and a bright red. Dillon could smell something burning and with the engine temperature gauge on hot, it had to be coolant hitting the engine. There was a small, green sign next to the freeway that read: Gas, Food, and Lodging. He took the exit. To the left, there was a sign: Sweetwater 3 miles. He was hoping the car would make it. As he drove he put Sweetwater into his phone. The town did not come up on Google Maps.

When he got to the town, there was a garage with two gas pumps. The smoke was so thick he had to stick his head out the driver's window to see. He pulled into the garage, and someone was working on an old pickup. It was a small garage with just one service bay. He got out and looked up the main street. This was a town with just a few buildings.

"Can I get some help?"

Dillon stared at the person approaching, even in the oversized, grease smeared coveralls, and short blond hair that was slicked back, this was a woman.

"Hi I'm Julia. What kind of car is this?" she asked.

"It's an Alfa Romero."

"I've never seen one of these, pop the hood."

Dillon pulled the lever inside the car. She pulled down the zipper of the coveralls exposing a small bare breast as she looked over the engine. "Pretty obvious the radiator hose is shot."

"How long will it take to put on a new one?"

"This isn't a Ford or Chevy let me check." She went inside and called Jezebel the town matriarch. She described Dillon, and they both agreed he was a fine specimen and didn't want him to get away. Julia could have easily taken a hose in stock and make it work, but they had other plans.

"Sorry I don't have one that will fit."

"Can't you just put some tape or something on it?"

She went and got a screwdriver and took it off. There was a crack running down almost the whole length.

"It would never hold. What is the model and year?"

Dillon went and got the owner's manual out of the glove compartment.

"Thanks, this will help. Let me make some calls."

"Is there anywhere to eat around here?"

"Sure, up the street. What you see is the whole town."

There was a sign that said restaurant/soda fountain; farther up the street was a large sign: Sweetwater Motel, Cable, WIFI. He gave Julia his cell phone number and walked up the street. He passed by an antique store, a gift shop selling candles, homemade jams and jellies, cards, and souvenirs. Across from the garage was a bait and tackle shop. There were three women across the street wearing long dresses that went to the ankles and bonnets. They were part of a sect that lived in the area that dressed conservatively every part of the body is covered, did not believe in drinking, smoking, playing cards, or watching television. He went into the restaurant and a young woman working behind the counter was like the other women a Mennonite.