A long stretch of highway at the base of a mountain curved down through deadly turns towards the valley below. From the distance a brown 1986 Plymouth appeared. It was dusk.

"Where are we Amber?" Scott looking over.

"I'll tell ya in a sec. Now we're still on seventy-five just past the county border..." Amber tracing the route on the map with her finger, "...which would put us just about 2km from the turn off just past the Winfield Cemetery."

Suddenly, the engine stopped, as the car begins to drift and swerve down through the curves.

"What the hell?" Scott turning the ignition over and over. "It won't start," struggling to keep the car from rolling over, turning the wheel against the rounded curves.
"We'd better pull over," pumping the brakes down across a patch of dirt off the highway.

"What happened?" Amber looking over at Scott.

"I dunno...the engine just stopped. I'll have a look," grabbing the latch of the door and stepping out onto the dirt. He opens the hood, looks around, then glances at Amber. "Seems to look okay. Try it again, will ya?"
Amber reaches over and turns the ignition key. Nothing. She gives it another turn, the winding sound slows down and stops.

"Sounds like a dead battery," looking out from the window. "What now?"...