Night Scenery

Chapter 2

I realized, as I drove, that there was traffic; there were cars all over, but nothing was moving. Now that I had calmed down a bit (LOL) I had so many questions, but I didn’t know where to find the answers. If the radio didn’t work, and my phone didn’t work, what about the TV, newspapers, people! Damnit, where were the people! I was glad I hadn’t seen dead bodies all over. And I could still smell the odor, but it was changing into something familiar, part of which I recognized as burned rubber (car tires?) and overheated electronics. But why had I—and my car—been spared?

Or had we?

When I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, it was pitch dark. My headlights showed an alien landscape of cars that looked like they were melting, ashes floating in the air that seemed to be either darker than dark, or briefly lit like spastic fireflies. I got out of the car but kept one hand on the door. I could see the outline of the building ahead of me, but, as I watched, a chill came over me. I wasn’t cold, it wasn’t that kind of chill, just fear. Something was terribly off. Something was about to happen. I wanted to run inside to my familiar, safe rooms, but at the same time, I felt compelled to get back into my car and shut the door behind me. I giggled like an i***t as the image of the cartoon cats with the caption, “Go away, Sam, this doesn’t concern you” flashed into my mind. And then, suddenly, there was fire, real fire, not the green sparkly things I’d been seeing, not just the melting tires catching fire, but everywhere, everything, and it was all I could do to start the engine and drive back out onto the street. Other buildings were burning too, parked cars were burning, and I wasn’t too sure the road surface itself wouldn’t light up.

I drove, rather slowly, knowing, somehow, I’d otherwise lose control and speed as fast and carelessly as I could, probably hitting something. I cried. I realized I was crying in tune with my driving, slow and steady, as if there was a power in me that took control in bad situations. As I hadn’t had too many life-threatening or horrible experiences yet, I didn’t really know that part of myself existed, but I was glad of it. It was as if I were my own father right then, stable, sensible, and taking care of business, taking care of me.

Soon, but not soon enough, the fires were left behind me, and I was on the highway out of town. I had to pull over to be sick again, and as I stood outside my car, still holding the door open for comfort and safety, I realized I had lost everything I had ever known, and I had no idea why or how.

Something my father had once said came to me; “I judge a fellow by what he does with what he has,” and I looked around. I had myself, my mind and body, I had my car, and that was it. I had a good knowledge of the area around me—I had no idea if this situation was local or widespread. I could at least check that out. Before I panicked any farther, although I didn’t see how that could even happen, yes, I did, I could rip off my clothes and run amok through the fields. That made me chuckle, and I got back in my car and took a deep breath. My mother always said, “You don’t know what you can do until you try doing it,” so here goes nothing, or something, who knew, but I would try—something. With what I had: my mind, my body, and my car. I hoped my parents were okay, but I had my doubts. All I knew was there was nothing behind me, nothing that I wanted to see…so the only way forward was, well, which way?

That only made me cry as hard as if my favorite cat had died, which probably, by the way, it had.

Well. Somewhat later—one always has to come back if one wants to go forward, stay alive, any of that silly stuff, right? I could give it one more day, one more hour even probably before I broke down crying again. East and north was the big city and the big city suburbs, and as I looked in that direction, I could barely make out a red glow, reflected in some less than black clouds above. South was nothing; west led to another big city a five-hour drive away; I was on the outskirts of Ann Arbor, Michigan, and I could take I-94 toward Chicago. There were small towns on the way. My parents lived out that way. I think it was the combination of miles of almost nothing possibly leading to my loving parents (not perfect, oh God no, but right now all I could come up with was warm loving arms and people who knew what to do, real adults, you know?).There was a pull in my heart that said I want my mom as plain as day. So I headed in that direction, repeating their two favorite phrases in my mind, first one, then the other, trying to not let the tears flow anymore, and behind that thought? Something in my head was being practical; food, water, gasoline, fire-proof clothes? Alien-proof clothes?

Was it only me? What would I find at that truck stop at the next exit? If it would still be there, and if it were, would I have the courage to stop? I’d seen way too many zombie movies to deal with whatever might be there. On the other hand, I was suddenly very hungry. Wait, did I have any money? Ah, but would I need it?