You blink and then stand motionless for several moments. No reason to act hasty now, is there? Haven't you gone through this sort of thing before, only to be chagrined later to find a man in a red coat, or a shaggy red dog? The bell over the door dings, but you ignore it. What they say about drugs, you reflect, is mostly true. They are mostly bad. And you just got this job. Shame to throw it away on another fictional fire; so you stand and blink again, and then stare (meanwhile the bell over the door dings again) off into the distance at the bright orange dot, waiting for it to disappear.
When it doesn't, you head outside to get a better look. Behind you, some doofus wants to buy a pack of Juicy Fruit gum, but you ignore him. Yep, that's a fire all right, but no one should be out there, it's a ghost town. Or an empty canyon. Or a deserted desert. You can't remember which. Only that there are no turn-outs near here, and local law enforcement discourages exploration by drifter.
As you watch, the orange dot briefly flickers before going out. Then pops into view again, the mystery again. Almost, you reflect, as though someone out there had briefly passed in front of it. But the road ahead is a roaring monster, big trucks screaming by, dust and smoke rising, and on the other side, well-posted No Trespassing signs.
What the hell is going on out there anyway? You don't really know the area. Could the locals be having a bit of a get-together? Because if so, that would sure as hell beat the shit out of this boring shift. They might even have a little bit of smoke, you reason.
Then, looking around, watching the doofus inside, you reflect that the pumps are automatic anyway. Insert credit card, get gas. Duh. Hardly a pressing need for you to be here every second of every moment of every night. A little walk then, across the road, hey?
Behind you, as you're starting out, the doofus calls, spilling change from his wallet. Ahead, another truck roars, more dust rises. Ignoring both, you climb a little rise on the other side of the road and start out seriously, hair swinging, even smiling a little in anticipation. Yeah, you think. You really could use a bit of smoke right about now.
Halfway there, however, the shit gets serious, and you stop, suddenly afraid. It smells like something bad out here, like death. I mean really bad. And though the fire appears closer, you don't see anyone, you don't hear anything. Where's the damn party? You blink and stare. And again passes that mysterious shadow in front of the fire.
And ug, what the hell is that stink?
But onward, right? Haven't you come this far? Behind you, the gas station waits like a bloated beast, with the road in front of it like a squashed snake.
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