It was after eight, the sun had gone down over an hour ago, and Amanda Storey had no idea where the hell she was. Her cell phone, with its global positioning app, had bitten the dust thirty miles ago, thanks to the plug for the adapter malfunctioning in her car. That left her with trying to find her way by using a regular old highway map she’d bought at the convenience store during her last pit stop. To say she was pissed would have been a major understatement.

            Pulling off onto the side of the two-lane road, she reached for said map sitting in the passenger seat and squinted at it in the glare of the ceiling lamp. Her destination was no bigger than a pinprick in the middle of nowhere, with its name in print the size that would actually fit on the head of that pin.

            Itsy.

            “Who the fuck names a town Itsy?”

            The ear worm was back, insinuating its god-awful tune of Itsy Bitsy, Teeny Weenie, Yellow Polka Dot Bikini into her tired brain. She was ready to give up. Throwing the map back into the seat, she pulled back onto the deserted road and kept heading in the direction she’d been going. According to the map, Itsy lay somewhere up ahead. She was bound to get there sooner or later.

            Probably by next week.

            “Damn you, Milton Dawles.”

            It was his fault she was here in the first place because he was too chicken shit to face these people on his own. No, he’d rather dangle her over the pit, offering her up as a sacrifice to these inbred hillbillies.

            The road stretched before her endlessly. Straight ahead, no curves, no small hills to break the monotony, and nothing but miles and miles of flat, open farmland on both sides of her as far as she could see. She hadn’t passed a single vehicle for the past fifty or sixty miles. But according to the main office, it was just the place to set up a RiteCost. Sometimes she wondered how the developers at headquarters chose the locations to build one of their mega stores. Did they throw a dart at a map? Did they have someone doing aerial reconnaissance to pick a spot big enough to fit one the mega stores and parking lot? Because this place was as isolated as Dr. Livingstone in the Amazonian jungle.

            A tiny green sign flashed by so fast, she didn’t get the chance to read it. Hitting the brakes, she put the car into reverse and backed up until she could see it again in her headlights.

            Itsy 14 Miles

            By God, there really was a place called Itsy. “My cup runneth over,” she dryly murmured.

            The fourteen miles seemed endless. At last, Amanda caught the faint glimmer of light on the horizon. As she drew nearer, the lights of the town became more focused. There weren’t many of them, she noted. “Probably trying to save on their electric bill.”

            The city limits sign passed by.

            Itsy

            Pop. 221

            “Oh, wow, Milton. You guys really had to scrounge to find this place, didn’t you?”

            But she knew there was more to the stats than just this town. There were all the other little towns and burgs in this county, and within the surrounding counties, that the company considered. It wasn’t just the immediate population. It was the combined population that made the executives determine whether or not to build a RiteCost at that location.

            Whether the locals wanted a RiteCost built in their back yards or not.