"And remember, police are still on the lookout for 14-year-old, Clarice Armstrong. The last sighting of The Armstrong family was at a small gas station on road-" By the time the radio announcer got to a name, static came on the radio, blocking out anything he was trying to say.

Jeremiah sighed in annoyance as he shut off the radio. "Damn. Just when it was getting to the good part too." He turned to Leon in the driver's seat, happily leaned back in his seat with eyes closed. "Why can't you buy a nicer truck than this scrap of the heap that you drive around?"

Leon turned to his brother, eyes still closed. "Now, don't blame my truck for your freakshow of a podcast not working. It could be a signal thing or something. I don't know."

"Sometimes I question what things do you know," Jeremiah replied, waiting for a comment.

To prevent the conversation from getting heated, Be-Be tapped Jeremiah on his shoulder and asked "How much longer 'till we reached the festival?"

With that chick-muck, voice running through his ears into his brain, his irritation turned to confusion as he struggled to ponder an answer.

"Well, um, I-I don't know." Jeremiah looked out the window to the now reddish sky as the sun was setting behind the tall trees in the distance. He took a quick look at his phone for the time. Five-fifty-nine, it said. How long have we been driving? Thought Jeremiah.

Jeremiah turned to Kelsey, who was playing on her phone in the back. "Kelsey, mind giving me a retelling of the directions?"

Kelsey looked up, the sunlight reflected off her glasses. She dug into her dress pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and unfolded it into a map. She fixed her glasses as she made out the many roads and landmarks.

"Judging by the map, we should be taking rd 46. After passing by a food fast place, we should continue our way until a town comes up. There, the Rebel festive will be held," Kelsey stated.

Jeremiah cocked an eyebrow. "That can't be right. I haven't seen a fast food place for miles. I wish there was one. It'll be a much better option than eating fried chicken from that gas station back there. Leon, what road are we driving on?"

"The last time I checked, it said take rd.64, passed the interstate," Leon replied.

"Now I see why there weren't any fast food places. Dumb-bo read the map upside down and gotten us lost." Foster said angrily.

"Now, no need to insult others, Foster," Jeremiah said. "All we need is to just find a road that can reroute us back to the highway."

"Or better yet, how about we just ask this lady up here?" Foster said, pointing up ahead to a woman on the side of the road.

The woman was crouched in a field underneath a tree, picking something from the ground and placing it in a basket by her side. She was dressed in a red blouse, matching with a skirt that fluttered in the breeze. Concealing her hair was a large straw hat that cast a shadow around her face.

Leon pulled over to the side of the road as the woman, hearing the vehicle, sat up, grabbed her basket, and approached the driver's side window.

As she came closer, the siblings could now see that she was an elderly lady.

Her shaggy, grey hair was tied back into a mess of a bun. Little wrinkles stretched across her weary, brown face. Her cat-like eyes quickly glared over the youngest two in the back before landing on the oldest three upfront.

There was a heartbeat of silence before Jeremiah's voice cut through the air. "Excuse me, miss, we're--"

"Well, my, my," the woman interrupted, lips curling into a smile as she cooed, "Ain't y'all just the cutest bunch of children I laid eyes on?"

Everyone shared a glance before fixing their attention on the women once more.

Kelsey hesitated before she spoke, "Thanks, I guess."

The woman either didn't notice or chose to ignore Kelsey's obvious discomfort. "Now tell me; what a couple of youngsters like y'all doing way out here in the country for? Ain't kids nowadays like to be in the city?"

"Not today, ma'am. We are supposed to be heading to the Rebel Festival in Langdale. We're taking part in a music
competition." Jeremiah explained politely.

"And I'm taking part in the eating competition," Foster added proudly.

Leon leaned towards the woman to whisper, "Which he's going to lose at."

"Well, my. I wouldn't put it past me for y'all to have musical talents," the woman said, playfully drumming her fingers on the handle of the basket. "Well, should y'all be on your way? I'm pretty sure the festival doesn't accept late competition."

"That's the thing, ma'am," Leon said. "We accidentally turned off on the wrong road and now we need help getting to road 46."

A wild smile stretched across the woman's face. A smile so wild, that it will be impossible and painful for a human to do.

"Well, you're just in luck." The woman shrieked with excitement. "Road 46 goes by where I live. It's the quickest way to get to Langdale."

"Can you take us there, miss-uh-" Jeremiah trailed off as his eyes darted about, not knowing the woman's name.

"Mrs. Thompson, sweetie." Mrs. Thompson said. "And yes I can. I just got finished picking pecans for the dish I'm making, so I headed home now. You can follow me in my truck." Mrs. Thompson pointed to a small pick-up truck parked on the side of the road.

"Okay, I guess we can follow behind. You don't live too far, right?" Jeremiah said, glancing over to the fuel gauge, noticing that it was half empty.

"It will only take half-a-drive 'till we hit the dirt road. So, keep up with me now. I like to go over the speed limit." With that, Mrs. Thompsonwalked away to her truck.

After Mrs. Thompson was out of sight, Kelsey leaned closer to Foster.

"Something about this lady is off, I tell you," Kelsey whispered to Foster.

"Oh, that's just you being paranoid. She's just an old lady with bad social skills. Can't you relate?" Foster asked with a hint of snark.

"No. I might stare, but the way she glanced at us gave me some bad vibes. I think we should keep our distance from her."

"Yeah, yeah. Keep up with your conspiracy theory by yourself. I'm about to take a nap. Wake me up when we reach the festival."

Mrs. Thompson climbed into the pick-up truck and started for home. The five followed suit.

They drove from the pecans fields farther down the road. At some point, they drove onto a dirt road, causing the truck to rock about. As they drove on, a forested area began to surround the road.

"You sure this lady is leading us in the right direction? It feels like we are in the middle of nowhere." Foster complained.

Well, it's not like it felt that way before." Jeremiah replied, looking out the window to admire the towering trees that surrounded them."Besides, just look at all of this wilderness. It's no surprise that anyone will want to live out here."

From a nearby swamp, a horrible odor entered the vehicle. Leon noticed it first, as it felt like it slapped him in the face.

The others noticed it, as they started coughing and covered their noses.

"Well if there's any lesson to take from nature, it's that it doesn't smell like the sweet apples from its trees." Jeremiah muffled.

"You're sure?" Foster said, side-eyeing Leon. "Because if you ask me, I think a certain someone might have let one out. It does smell like a wet ape's arse in here."

Leon knew who Foster was referring to. Nobody calls him a gorilla or ape except for Foster. But, he got something for the little wisecracker. Eyeing a bottle of water that he hasn't drunk yet, he unscrewed the lid and placed it loosely in the cup-holder in front of Foster. Leon sped the truck up slightly and it hit another bump. The truck went a few meters above the ground, and with that, the bottle went flying from its holder and the cap flew loose. He smiled mischievously as Foster and his clothes were drenched with the bottle contents.

Foster shrieked in rage. "Damn it, Leon! This's my favorite outfit!"

"Whether it came from Leon or somewhere else, it's still bothering me. Lucky, I never leave home with this." With that, she reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of perfume.

She sprayed a couple of times into the air. It started to smell a little better, but the swampy odor still lingered.

"That hardly did anything," Foster complained."Give it to me. I'll take care of it."

"But Foster, Leon-"

"Don't care."

Foster snatched the bottle and proceeded to spray a large amount of perfume into the air. Soon, the truck was smelling like a field of Daisies.

Foster smiled as he took a big whiff of the air. "See, Kesley? Isn't it much better now?"

"Foster, you weren't supposed to spray it like that."

And she was right. The perfume was strong. So strong, Leon started to feel a stinging sensation in his eyes. He scratched his eyes, thinking it was an itch, but it wouldn't go away. Instead, the stinging got worse. His eyes watered. It felt like tiny toothpicks were plucking at his eyes.

He tried to reach for a rag from the floorboard, but he made one mistake that every person who drives a vehicle knows not to do. Taking your hand off the wheel.

With nobody controlling the truck, it started to swerve over the road, nearly going off the path at some points. Jeremiah tried to grab hold of the wheel, but with Foster in the way, he could only grasp half of it.

"Leon, open your eyes for God's sakes! You're gonna drive us off the road!" Jeremiah yelled frantically, eyes wide with fear. With the little control that he could retain, the truck ended with the driver's side still on the road and the passenger's side tire splashing water from driving in the swamp.

"I can't see. That stupid perfume blinded me." Leon defended sharply, completely oblivious to what was going on. "Besides, I can't drive us off the road if I'm not driving, genius!"

The truck dashed past Mrs. Thompson's, leaving a trail of dirt and gravel in its wake. Jeremiah was still struggling when he noticed something creeping on the horizon. Squinting his eyes, Jeremiah deciphered the blur as a large farmhouse. They were driving onto someone's property. With that epiphany, he desperately tried to direct the vehicle down another path but when he recognized a white picket fence approaching, he knew his attempts were useless.

He mentally braced himself for the inevitable which occurred with a loud crash as the truck broke through the fence and entered the large yard that surrounded the farmhouse. Gnomes and garden patches littered the property, prompting Jeremiah to maneuver the truck skilfully into a zig-zag pattern to avoid hitting anything.

To evade a small pond, Jeremiah was forced to drive the truck over a makeshift ramp of some sort, making himself and his siblings release a scream as it went flying through the air before thankfully, landing safely in a haystack.

The siblings mirrored each others' wide eyes, sweat-soaked faces, and labored breathing as they felt their lives flash before their eyes.

It was then that Leon emerged from the floorboard, a rag gripped in his hand. "Found it!" Leon exclaimed cheerfully as he rubbed his eyes free of the stinging sensation before opening them to see his siblings' expressions. Leon frowned in confusion. "What's up with y'all?"