Destruction Road

Chapter 3

Will drove until the sun disappeared far down the road into the mountains, and then took an exit into a town whose population barely made up four digits. After driving through the downtown area, which lasted only a minute, he took a side road and ended up pulling over into a wheat field. He drove in far enough so that no one would be able to see him from the road.

He hopped out and rummaged through a duffel bag until he found his four sweatshirts. Will grabbed them and got back into the truck. He put two of them on, one over the other, and then used the other two as a pillow. He stretched out across the bench seat, putting his feet up on the passenger side armrest. He tried to sleep, but the silence kept him from finding any rest.

With everything that had happened today, the sound of crickets was the last thing he could deal with right now. They weren't enough to drown out his thoughts. He put the key back in the ignition and turned it halfway until the radio could come on. He reached over and hit the knob. His dad had it tuned to AM, and a newscast came over the speakers. He reached up to change it to FM when the newscaster's words stayed his hand.

"In local news, a pregnant mother, her baby and 2 year old child were killed by a shooter today while trying to merge onto the freeway. Eye witness reports put an old white Ford truck fleeing the scene.

Will's raised voice echoed through the small cab of the truck as he swore, hitting the radio button to turn it off. He had been under the impression that he got away clean. He sat up and hit the dashboard. Then a change came over his face. He reached into the glove box, pulled out the flask and took a long pull. He put it back, and then started to laugh.

"No rest for the wicked I guess."

Will had to act like this was all just a big video game to deal with it. If he let himself stop to think for too long about all that had happened, then he would lose it. He started the truck and put it in reverse until the road came into view. He drove back to the freeway and then hit the first rest area he could find. He would need their free coffee.

Tom looked out the window as he held his hands to the heat coming from the car vents. All was cold and dark: the streets outside as they drove, the wet littered parking lot, and the medical examiner building. The overcast sky hid the light outside but inside—that was something else. It was no dearth of fixtures, plenty of them hung from the sterile ceiling above. Something else was holding the light back. Tom got the same feeling at cemeteries, but inside of a building it was more pronounced. It felt like some dark force was at work suppressing the light. As soon as he walked through the doors he felt it. It was death.

He was glad for his dad's company; this would be it, he would have to face the fact that they were actually gone. The bleak strings of hope he held onto would be cut when he saw them; falling from his white knuckled grasp. They would disappear into a bottomless pit of harsh reality; taking a part of him with them, leaving him changed forever. He was still holding on.

His steps across the dark room were deliberately slow. Behind a drab desk sat a pale skinny man glued to a computer screen. He did not look up as they approached, but raised one hand to them.

"Be with you in a minute," the young man said without raising his eyes. The screen lit his inattentive face. Tom's father cleared his throat. The man looked over briefly, then frowned when he looked back to his screen.

"Oh man! There goes my ranking."

He hit a key and turned to face them.

"What can I do for you?"

"We're here to identify his wife," he said, pointing to Tom, "and my grandchild."

The man straightened.