The Darkened Highway

The Darkened Highway Chapter Twenty-Seven - Part One

The following day dawned with the discovery of a gas station. Its existence, or rather, its remnants, felt like an oasis in the midst of this forgotten wilderness. The old and abandoned station stood as a relic of the past, a silent testimony to the world that once thrived.

Ben's curiosity got the better of him, and he was eager to explore it, his hopes pinned on finding supplies or perhaps a map to decipher our uncertain surroundings. He handed me two items before leaving: a small radio and a pistol from a hidden compartment. His stern expression conveyed the gravity of the situation, emphasizing the need for me to stay close and remain within the safety of the RV. I wanted to voice my concerns and insist that we stick together. Still, Ben's determination to uncover something of value outweighed my reservations. He had an urgent need to find any clue about our whereabouts.

As Ben ventured alone towards the decaying gas station, I couldn't help but feel a wave of unease wash over me. His determination to find some semblance of civilization reflected his deep-rooted need to make sense of our surroundings. The GPS computer had long ceased to provide coherent guidance, leaving us disoriented in this never-ending forest.

In retrospect, we should have paid closer attention to it earlier in our journey. Now, the fuel issue, which was a dire problem, should have been addressed sooner. We had been driving aimlessly down this desolate highway for three days, maybe more.

It was kind of hard for me to judge the passage of time. An issue I have never had before, but now, it seems to be the driving force behind my confusion. My days had blurred into one another, and we had been navigating this seemingly endless highway.

The gas station, worn and abandoned, marked the first tangible sign of human existence since we had veered off our original route. Ben had estimated that we had one or, at most, two more days of fuel left before we ran out entirely. We could extend our drive time with the onboard solar system, but cloudy days could mean stopping us in our tracks without fuel.

Thus, this stop wasn't merely a detour to satisfy his curiosity; it was a necessity. We had to refuel, and there was no guarantee we would encounter another station before our fuel reserves dwindled to nothing. With this in mind, Ben filled the RV's two 100-gallon tanks and the spare canisters before we embarked on this unforeseen side trip. The decision to return now was rendered moot by the dwindling fuel gauge, leaving us with no choice but to move forward.

Left alone with only Happy and my thoughts, I sought some form of connection to the outside world. I turned on the radio, hoping for a break from the eerie silence that had enveloped us. However, all I received was static, a stark reminder of our isolation. This was mirrored by the holo-TV, which offered no reception or diversion.

Ben even tried his satellite communicator, which proved equally fruitless in establishing a connection with the outside world. Even the antiquated ham radio that once belonged to his great-grandfather picked up nothing but static, an anachronistic relic in a world that had moved far beyond such technology.

My attention was drawn to the landscape outside. The treeline on either side of the road had subtly shifted, a few yards farther back than before. This narrow strip of road seemed to be bathed in more sunlight than the surrounding forest, accentuating the ominous nature of the woods. I was starting to worry. Ben had been gone for such a long time, and I didn't know how long my mind felt fogged. Trying to focus on more than one thing became difficult and taxing on my mental state.

It was then that Happy's sudden, frantic barking shattered the eerie silence. His agitated behavior jolted me out of my reverie, putting me on high alert. The forest, already foreboding, now felt like a living, breathing entity. I couldn't shake the sense that it was watching us with malevolent intent.