Months had passed since that nightmare, but the hum remained.

The low humming sound constantly in her ears, she’d gotten checked, spoken to doctors and specialist, none could explain the sound, they had theories but all exams pointed to normal audio and brain function.

Still she heard the humming, she continued searching for cures, answers in all forms. The logical had failed her, so she began searching the spiritual. Meditating, home remedies, communing with old and new gods alike, she felt if it continued she’d go mad, nothing eased her.

At a bus stop on her way to her next site, she came upon an abandoned newspaper, soaked and battered, all that seemed nearly unscathed was an ad, a small van equipped for camping, though it seemed so much more than that. The ad was smudged, she couldn’t gather a price or a phone number, but the address was legible. This could be the answer to her prayers a safe place to sleep and travel.

Her thoughts narrowed, finally having a form of shelter, something to call her own, to help her search for a cure or an answer, a dry place to work. Traveling might not be the solution, but searching for solutions was far better than hoping one would fall into her lap.

She found her way to the address, as she crossed onto the pavement the humming lowered, she finally could organize her thoughts. Surveying the area it seemed like empty abandoned car lot. She looked around for anyone or anything, nothing only her at the center of the lot with her newspaper cut out. She sighed loudly, exasperated, though she welcomed the silence the world faded to gray for a moment while she lived in the moment.

She turned around with her eyes closed enjoying the silence, not ready to leave, acutely aware that if she stepped out of the lot the hum would return. When a man appeared before her, directly behind him in the far corner she saw the van. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head, color returning to her surroundings.

Nothing about their sudden apparition made sense, as if she had been the one to appear. He even seemed, startled.

“The van?”

“…yes?”

“Of course. Come.” He took her to the far end of the lot, hidden behind a fleet of vehicles she must’ve not noticed before, was the rusty van. “We need it out.” The man’s tone changed from light to severe in a blink.

“How’d you get it?”

“We didn’t. One day it showed up, a note on the passenger side said ‘Gone again.’ kept it for a while hoping someone would turn up, but they never did.” His discomfort was palpable.

“How much?”

“What’d you bring?”

“On me?”

“Yes.”

“$300”

“$150 and that candy bar in your pocket and we have a deal, I don’t want it back here.” He stuck his hand out.

An odd transaction at best, but things have a way of working themselves out, or so she convinced herself.

She took the keys, and went off on her maiden voyage.