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In the middle of the night, a frantic knocking echoed through Meemaw's house.
When Mike stepped out of his room, he saw Meemaw in the living room, a coat thrown over her shoulders and a baseball bat gripped tightly in her hands, approaching the door cautiously.
Seeing Mike emerge, the tension on her face visibly relaxed.
"Who is it?" Meemaw called out from behind the door, not unlocking it immediately.
In a place like Texas, where the locals were famously tough and armed, opening the door blindly at night was a statistically poor survival strategy.
"It's me, Connie. We need help." Mary's desperate voice came from outside.
Hearing her daughter's voice, Meemaw hid the baseball bat behind her back and unlocked the door.
"What happened, Mary?" Seeing the panic on her daughter's face under the porch light, Meemaw asked with concern.
"It's Shelly. He hit his head. John said there was a lot of blood..." Mary, having received a midnight call from Dr. Sturgis, briefly explained the situation before venting her frustration. "I shouldn't have trusted John. He's incapable of taking care of Shelly. It's only the first night, and something this terrible has already happened..."
Meemaw, piecing together the chaotic narrative, asked worriedly, "Is Shelly's injury severe? Why didn't John take him to the hospital?"
"That's why I'm here. John apparently broke his leg too. George and I are driving over there right now..." Mary pleaded, "Can you please watch Missy and Georgie for us?"
"That is unfortunate news..."
Hearing that Dr. Sturgis was also injured, Meemaw shook her head and said, "Leave things here to me. Once you get there, check if John needs any assistance as well."
Dr. Sturgis, a bachelor for seventy years with no children, would undoubtedly need care in such a situation.
By this time, George had started the car and was waiting for his wife at the intersection.
Mary didn't have time for details. After extracting a promise from Meemaw to check on John, she turned and rushed to the car.
Under the moonlight, the vehicle disappeared into the night.
"Lord help us. I hope they are all safe..."
Watching the car fade away, Meemaw's face was etched with worry.
"Do you require my assistance at the Cooper residence?" Mike, having grasped the situation from the doorway, asked.
"No need. Go back to sleep. If I need your help, I'll come get you..." Considering Mike had a trip scheduled for tomorrow, Meemaw calmed herself and took on the responsibility of watching the grandkids alone.
"Understood. Notify me if needed." Mike didn't insist, knowing he needed rest for his journey.
---
The next morning, when Mike woke up, Meemaw was already preparing breakfast in the kitchen.
Although she looked slightly fatigued, her overall demeanor was relaxed.
"What is the status of Sheldon?" Mike asked.
"Nothing major. Just a minor scrape on his forehead." Meemaw chuckled before continuing, "John is fine too. Apparently, he sprained his ankle while trying to attend to Shelly. He should recover in a few days."
Clearly, Mary's maternal instincts had caused her to overreact last night.
She had launched a full-scale "rescue operation" before getting accurate data from Dr. Sturgis.
However, from a mother's perspective, her reaction was understandable.
"That is optimal." Hearing that the Coopers and Dr. Sturgis were safe, Mike felt relieved.
After breakfast, amidst Meemaw's reminders to drive safely, Mike got into his Dodge pickup and prepared to hit the road.
Hearing the commotion, the Cooper family came out to see him off.
During the farewells, Mike spotted Sheldon.
His head was wrapped like a dumpling in bandages, and he looked a bit dejected, but his mental state seemed stable.
---
By noon, the Dodge pickup came to a halt at a deserted T-junction in the middle of nowhere.
A weathered road sign stood by the roadside...
The arrows indicated that both forks eventually led toward Minnesota.
One was the main route Mike had taken before, a desolate stretch through arid badlands. The other was a smaller road leading toward a dense forest.
After rehydrating, Mike looked up at the scorching sun and chose the smaller road.
The logic was simple: the forest route offered shade.
In late June, the ambient temperature in the Texas wilderness exceeded 40°C (104°F). The metal cabin of the truck was baking like an oven.
"I hope there is a rest stop ahead..."
Mike steered the truck onto the smaller road, scanning the roadside.
Ideally, he'd find a motel. Failing that, a shaded spot in the woods to wait out the midday heat would suffice.
Even if it meant a detour, avoiding the peak heat was a calculated trade-off.
BOOM!
Just as Mike was scanning for a rest spot, a loud bang came from the tires.
A blowout.
Mike gripped the steering wheel firmly, safely bringing the vehicle to a stop. Upon inspection, the front left tire was completely flat.
"Suboptimal luck."
Although he had a spare, breaking down in this environment was irritating.
As he investigated the cause of the blowout, his frown deepened.
A rusty nail...
Besides the nail, other small metal debris was scattered along the road.
The data suggested this was not an accident.
Just then, two men emerged from the roadside brush. They were covered in grease and filth, looking like vagrants.
As soon as they appeared, they charged toward the pickup truck, waving their arms and making unintelligible, guttural noises.
Even in the scorching heat, the stench radiating from them was palpable from a distance.
Sensing hostile intent, Mike didn't hesitate. As they approached, he delivered two crisp, powerful kicks, sending both men to the ground.
"Identify yourselves."
Suspecting the nails were their handiwork, Mike had applied slightly more force than usual.
However, to his surprise, after rolling on the ground a couple of times, the two men scrambled back to their feet as if nothing had happened.
It was then that Mike noticed their abnormal physiology. They were exceptionally large, with strangely elongated limbs. Clearly, they suffered from some form of physical deformity.
Having been attacked, their growls turned high-pitched and screeching. Their bloodshot eyes filled with a beast-like aggression.
It looked as if they were about to pounce again.
"Just my luck. Two lunatics..."
Judging by their mental state, communication seemed impossible.
Just as Mike prepared to forcibly remove them from the equation, a scrawny, skeletal man carrying a huge toolbox appeared on the road, stepping in front of the two giants.
"Does the gentleman require vehicle repairs?"
The scrawny man looked at Mike with a fawning expression.
He was emaciated to the point of looking like a walking skeleton.
But the most striking feature was his eyes—bulging excessively, with seemingly no upper eyelids.
With his gaunt cheeks and protruding eyes, he resembled a dehydrated flounder.
Mike also noted that the two giants behind him, beneath their matted hair, possessed equally grotesque features.
This trio could easily be classified as "monsters." Encountering them at night would terrify anyone.
"Who are you people?" Mike scrutinized the three of them, repeating his question.
"I'm called 'Big Eyes.' These two are my brothers," the scrawny man introduced himself. "Because accidents happen frequently at this bend, we opened a repair shop over there..."
Following his finger, Mike saw a dilapidated canvas shed set up near the bend.
Further ahead, there was a wooden structure that looked like a small inn or general store.
"What is the cost for repairs?" Mike asked, noting the man's obsequious attitude.
"One hundred dollars for a tire. What do you say? Want us to fix it?" Big Eyes hunched over, maintaining his humble posture.
"What is the estimated time for completion?" Mike continued.
In this hellish heat, having someone else do the labor was worth the money.
"Just one tire? We can have you back on the road in thirty minutes..." Big Eyes spoke eagerly, as if afraid the customer would flee. "It's so hot out here. While we work, you can rest at the shop over there. They have excellent ice-cold beer..."
"Acceptable. Notify me when the repairs are complete." The shop wasn't far, so Mike wasn't worried about them pulling any tricks he couldn't handle.
Upon receiving the customer's consent, Big Eyes immediately directed his two deformed brothers to start working on the truck.
Despite their strange appearance, their movements were efficient.
After watching for a few minutes to ensure they weren't sabotaging anything further, Mike walked toward the shop at the bend.