Seven hundred yards from the gas station, I found a little girl on the side of the road having a heart attack. The area was remote, and waiting for an ambulance would take too long, so I decided to rush her to the hospital myself. At the gas station, I told the owner it was an emergency and asked him to fill up my tank quickly. He smirked. "Sure. Give me a hundred bucks, and I'll make it snappy." Frustrated, I handed over the cash. But then he changed his tune. "Wait, you're trying to save someone? A hundred won't cut it. Give me five hundred, and I'll fill it up." Realizing he was extorting me, I tried to step out and call 911 to get an ambulance instead. The owner snatched my phone. "Thinking of calling for help? Not a chance!" Inside the car, the girl's face was turning blue. What the owner didn't know was that the dying girl in my backseat was his own daughter, on her way home from tutoring. Chapter 1 It was late at night. I was driving back from visiting relatives in the countryside when I saw a small figure curled up on the side of a desolate road. Being alone in such a remote area at night, I was wary of scams, so I slowed down cautiously. But as I got closer, the girl didn't look like she was acting. She was clutching her chest, collapsed on the gravel. In the headlights, her face looked ghostly pale. Crap. This looks real. I stopped the car and pulled out my phone to record a video, just in case this was a setup. "I'm recording this for my safety," I said to the camera. "I just found a girl collapsed on the road. I didn't hit her. My dashcam can prove it. I'm going to help her now." I ran over and followed the first-aid training I'd taken. I called out to her. She was conscious but weak, murmuring, "Hospital... heart... hurts..." Heart attack. I wanted to call 911, but the GPS signal was spotty out here, and explaining the location on these winding backroads would take forever. Luckily, she was light. I gently lifted her into the backseat, laid her flat, and cracked the windows for air. I was ready to race to the ER when the fuel light pinged. Empty. Damn it. Of all times. I remembered passing a gas station not far ahead. I floored it and arrived in less than a minute. It was late, and only one guy was there. I parked and yelled, "Fill it up, please! Hurry!" Hearing "fill it up," the owner, who had been lounging in a chair, sat up. He walked over with a greasy smile. "Filling the tank, huh? Don't worry, Uncle Joe won't rip you off. I'll even give you a discount. You take Premium, right?" He reached for the Premium nozzle and tried to open my fuel cap. I always drove this beater SUV on these roads because the gravel destroyed paint jobs. I stopped him. "No need for Premium. Regular is fine. Just fill it up fast!" Uncle Joe's smile vanished. His mouth turned down, and his brow furrowed with annoyance. "Regular? Fine. Coming right up." He said he'd do it, but his movements were agonizingly slow. I looked at the girl in the backseat, frantic. "Sir, can you please hurry? I have a sick child in the back. We need to get to the hospital. It's an emergency!" Hearing "saving someone," his eyes lit up. He paused and said, "Oh, sorry, miss. We're out of Regular. If you want gas, you gotta take Premium." I leaned out and looked at the pump display. The Regular tank indicator showed full. "Sir, you said you wouldn't rip me off. You clearly have Regular gas. Don't lie, or I'm calling the cops." He didn't look worried at all. He smirked. "Let me tell you something. This is the only gas station for miles. If you don't fill up here, you're not going anywhere. Even if you call the cops, it'll take them forever to get here. By then, that kid in the back will be dead." I was shocked. "That's a human life! Are you really that cold-blooded?" He remained unfazed, his attitude aggressive. "Cold-blooded? I'm feeling cold-blooded today! I don't give a damn about anyone's life. I only care about money. You want gas, you take Premium, or you can get out and push!" Chapter 2 The girl in the back groaned in pain. I hesitated for two seconds, then caved. "Fine! Premium it is! Just fill it up!" He agreed readily this time, grabbing the Premium nozzle to start pumping. The tank wasn't big; usually, it took a minute to fill. But as the seconds ticked by, the pump hummed quietly, barely moving. I couldn't take it. I got out to check. He wasn't squeezing the handle fully; the gas was trickling out like a leaky faucet. "What are you doing?!" I screamed. "Squeeze the handle! At this rate, we'll be here until next Christmas!" He whistled, shaking his leg with a thug-like swagger. "Can't help it. This pump is just slow. But hey, if you want it faster, there might be a way." My instinct kicked in. "How?" He smiled crookedly, the wrinkles on his face bunching up like a toad's skin. It was repulsive. "Extra service fee. Give me another hundred bucks, and I'll fill it instantly." Veins popped in my forehead. Did I look like an ATM? It was just a gas pump. I knew how to use it. I moved to shove him aside and do it myself. He yelled immediately, "Hey! What do you think you're doing? I got cameras! If you break anything, you pay for it! And I got a bad back—if you push me and I get paralyzed, you're paying for my medical bills for life!" Rage swirled in my chest, but I was helpless. The girl couldn't wait much longer. I decided to call 911 as a backup. But before I could dial, he snatched my phone. "Trying to call for help? No way!" I looked through the window at the weak girl, panic rising in my throat. "If anything happens to her, it's on you! Her parents won't let you get away with this!" He shoved my phone into his pocket. "I told you. You want gas fast? You pay. Miss, you're so kind to save a stranger, why not save poor Uncle Joe too? Business is slow out here. Consider it charity." I had never seen someone so shameless. This wasn't begging; it was extortion. The girl kicked the door weakly. She was struggling. Fine. Money. He wanted money. "Okay, I'll pay. But I don't have cash. Give me my phone, I'll Venmo you. A hundred, right?" The notification sound dinged almost instantly. But his hand didn't move any faster. I screamed like a madwoman. "I sent the money! Hurry up!" He laughed, showing yellow teeth. "A hundred was the price a minute ago. The price has gone up." "What do you mean?" He smirked. "Think about it. I fill your tank, you rush the kid to the hospital, she lives. Her parents give you a fat reward for saving her life. But without my gas, you can't be a hero, and you don't get that reward money. So really, Uncle Joe is helping you get paid. I should get a cut. I'm not greedy—just give me five hundred. Fair, right?" Chapter 3 "Five hundred?! Are you insane? Why don't you just rob a bank?" He raised an eyebrow. "Five hundred is cheap. When you save that kid, the parents will probably give you thousands. You wouldn't be doing this if there wasn't something in it for you. Don't act like a saint." So in his twisted mind, I was only helping for money. I took a deep breath. "Fine. I'll send it." I had no choice. I had to swallow my anger. He stared at me. "Don't try anything funny. I'm watching you." Under his gaze, I Venmoed him five hundred dollars. He grinned. "See? That's better. You should have done this earlier, saved the kid some suffering. If she dies, it's your fault for being cheap." I heard the woosh of gas finally flowing at full speed. My heart rate slowed slightly. Hold on, sweetie. Just a little longer. Suddenly, the noise stopped. I looked at him. His eyes glinted with malice. He had another idea to squeeze me dry. I immediately put my hand behind my back. Relying on muscle memory, I texted my best friend, Maya: [Bring ambulance. Save me. No calls. Hurry.] I sent my location. I had brought Maya here before; I hoped she remembered the way. If I called 911, he'd hear me. Who knows what he'd do then. Just as I predicted, he stopped the pump and snatched the keys from the ignition before I could react. In the struggle, I saw the girl curled into a tight ball. She was fading. "What now?! I paid you!" He smiled. "Don't panic, miss. Uncle Joe is just being thorough. I'm checking your car. Looks like you need wiper fluid. And an oil change. I'm doing you a favor, taking care of it all right now. Just give me another three hundred." Three hundred could buy a truckload of wiper fluid. He popped the hood and started "inspecting" the engine. "Miss, I used to be a mechanic. Tell you what, I'll tighten some loose screws, give it a full service. Total package—just give me a grand!" I was speechless. He was a pro at this. People took this backroad to avoid tolls. He must have scammed dozens of drivers. He tinkered under the hood, stalling. I couldn't just sit there. The girl was barely moving. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I saw a car approaching. I ran out and waved my arms. "Stop! Please! I have a sick child! I'll pay you to take us to the hospital!" I had to mention money to get them to stop. The black sedan slowed down. A middle-aged man stepped out, a cigarette dangling from his lip. He didn't look friendly. He glanced at me, then looked at the gas station owner. "Joe, what's the deal? Fleecing another tourist?" Joe leaned back, relaxed. "Can't help it. Slow week. Caught a live one trying to play hero. Had to squeeze her. Help me keep her here, she still owes me a grand. I'll cut you in." The smoker nodded. "Deal." He smirked at me, whispering, "Miss, how much you offering? You gave Joe a grand, don't shortchange me. I'm reasonable—five hundred, and I'll take the kid to the ER right now." Chapter 4 I tried to keep my knees from buckling. Trapped between two men. I didn't want to think about what else they might want besides money. I had an idea. "Joe, this guy says he'll take the kid for five hundred. I'm gonna transfer the money to him. I only have five hundred left in my account." Joe slammed the hood shut. "Bubba, what are you doing? Stealing my business? Don't you know the rules?" Bubba didn't back down. "Joe, money doesn't have rules. First come, first served. Besides, didn't your daughter tell you to stop this crap? If she finds out, she might have another heart attack." Joe bristled at the mention of his daughter. "Keep my daughter's name out of your mouth! She's healthy as a horse. You curse her, I'll kill you." Bubba stubbed out his cigarette, ready to fight. But Joe was smart. He realized quickly I was playing them. Meanwhile, my hand was already dialing 911. Joe snatched the phone before it connected. "Nice try, bitch. Almost fooled me. Transfer the money now, or that kid dies because of you." Bubba rolled up his sleeves, showing off a tattoo. "And my five hundred. You're not leaving until you pay." I was on the verge of tears. I almost knelt. "Sir, you said your daughter has heart problems too. Can't you have some empathy? If your daughter collapsed on the road and someone tried to save her, only to run into this... how hopeless would she feel?" Joe spat on the ground. "Pah! My daughter ain't that unlucky. If that kid dies, it's her bad luck. You're the cheapskate here. Don't act like a hero." I had no choice. I transferred a grand to Joe. Bubba held up his QR code. I paid him too. Getting the girl to the hospital was all that mattered. Joe finally went back to pump the gas. But Bubba looked at me with a different kind of hunger. Suddenly, he said to Joe, "Bro, pump slow. I got some 'business' to handle." Joe winked. "Sure. Take your time." Bubba rubbed his hands together, walking toward me with a lecherous grin. "Miss, since you're so generous, help a brother out. I'm lonely. Consider it charity. Just close your eyes, it'll be over soon." He stepped closer. My heart hammered against my ribs. I clutched the nail clippers in my pocket—my only weapon. Just as he reached for me, sirens wailed. Police cruisers and an ambulance screeched into the lot. Officers tackled Bubba instantly. Maya jumped out of her car and hugged me. I pushed her away, yelling at the paramedics, "Heart attack! White SUV! Backseat! Hurry!" Joe tried to run but was pinned by a cop. He was still shouting profanities. "Stupid bitch! I'll be out in a few days! Just you wait!"
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