People on the Highway

Dense fog covered my town this morning.  Visibility was next to nil; the only way to see a car even fifty feet away was looking for little light halos around headlamps.  Dense fog.  Had this sort of fog happened even a week ago it would have been a sign of autumn’s arrival.  It did not happen a week ago though.  It happened in October.  Fog in October is a sure sign of the arrival of the zombie apocalypse.  I was giddy with happiness on the drive to daycare.

Equally as pleased with the foggy portent of society’s demise was the large pitch black Dodge Ram driving next to me most of the morning.  The driver was finally able to use his fog lights.  He looked to be in his late 20s, perhaps early 30s, so the fog lights were never actually intended to be used for foggy conditions.  They were put in place to shine light on the undead as they stepped slowly across highways.  While he was a bit disappointed zombies were not piling up in front of his truck, he was happy to pretend it was happening.  Here’s what was going on in that car this morning.

Today’s tale: Day 12

Day 12 since the farm fell.  The weather has turned on me.  This highway is cluttered with cars.  I see silhouettes of drivers clawing at their windows, pleading for escape from their cabins but it is too late for them.  They want out to grab a quick snack.  Well, you’re not getting a Toby snack today! Day 4 now without contact of another living being and I appear to be losing my mind.

The fog has tempered some of the fires coming off the I25 junction.  I thought those smoke plumes would never end.  How could it all have happened so quickly?  I thought the CDC or some sort of black-ops group was supposed to quell this sort of thing within minutes.  If this was a TV show about the end of the world I would certainly complain that perhaps that part of the plot moved a little quickly.

I still do not fully understand why I had to bring this fly as heck truck out on the road by myself.  This super amazing fog lights and ‘don’t eff with me’ lift kit must send a message.  Slow and steady is the only way to win this race though.  Cannot attract too much attention.  There’s one monster ahead of me, to the right, maybe I should shine my fancy schmancy fog lights in its eyes.  Do these things even see?

As soon as I fill the truck with supplies I can head back.  The group is holding steady in an hotel off 34.  It was ransacked before we even arrived.  And smelly.  Such a stink to it, but that could have been there even before all this.  I digress.  Who am I even talking to?  There used to be morning radio to fill these long trips.  Never thought I would miss meaningless banter.

Finally made it out of the block of cars.  No idea why, even at the end of the world, cars pack up at intersections.  That’s just weird.

Wait, what’s that over there?  A dentist office?  Well, that worked out I’ve been meaning to get a toothbrush.  It’s been 12 days.  Gross.
And that is how Toby got his dental appointment this morning.  Some trips can only be made by surrounding yourself in an apocalypse.



Thanks for reading!
If you’re looking for a quick spooky read, Roan’s Demon is for just a dollar and available by clicking here.  Demons and zombies abound!


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