Rest Area Next Exit

The beat of the techno music vibrated the gray car as it hurdled down the interstate. Weaving in and out, passing the slow movers, trailing the big rigs until they hit an upgrade that slowed them down to a crawl, putting on their four way flashers. He hung back for a while and noticed that the beat of the music and the flashing of the lights were in sync. Perfect timing, he became mesmerized only to be drawn back to his driving by the sudden approach of a fast moving car. He gunned it and moved around the semi rig pulling a large tank of fuel. Not paying attention he sped on his way laughing at a bill board advertising Bliss Cream, with a picture of a woman with large breasts proclaiming how well it worked. He laughed at the bill board bitch defaced with an old style mustache, goatee and blacked out teeth.

There was a silence in the music as he pushed down hard on the accelerator. The next song just started full in and took him by surprise jerking the wheel to the right a bit and narrowly missed sliding his car underneath the large tank of the truck. The driver pissed off, flipped him the finger then laid on the horn as the two of them sped down the highway.

The truck driver flashed his lights not in respect but to let him know he was an asshole. And with that he was gone off on a long stretch of highway that seemed to go on forever to nowhere. He enjoyed this deadly game of speed up, then pass and weave about on the highway. Desolate is what he called it, he called everything desolate where there were no people, just scenery, just trees and mountains, all covered in yesterday's snow and ice. The road was clear and dry the frigid temperatures saw to that.

The music took over again and he tranced out, highway hypnotism they call it when you lose all track of reality as you concentrate so fiercely on the driving. He came upon a couple of maroon vans, written on the sides in white lettering, “Castle Rock High School Swim Team”, “All the way to states!”

He slipped in behind them and studied a young girl sitting in the back, looking out staring at him, talking with her friends. Were they really her friends or just someone to talk to on this long stretch of nowhere? Locked in a van with nothing, no one else, except the person sitting next to you, their likes, their dislikes, their food stuck in their teeth, their bad breath, and their body odor. He waved feeling sorry for her, thinking that she was lonely like him. A weary traveler, a virgin in the ways of the cruel harsh world, always looking for peace, having forsaken her dreams for others. Was she like that? She smiled and waved at him, then lifted her shirt exposing her breasts. Those on the van all began to laugh as he swerved in out of the lanes and then squealed to a stop on the median.

He caught his breath, put on his flashers for a minute to make sure no unsuspecting rush came along and clipped him. He took a long drink from a bottle of mescal he had on the front seat. After crushing and snorting some meth, his eyes burned and then he screamed in to the vacant air of his car as he took off.

The music bounced around inside the little car and began to paint pictures of little ponies, sweet rainbow clouds, cotton candy as the meth screamed through his veins in his head. He floored it, weaving in and around several trucks, some cars and that large fuel truck. Then he saw his prey. The road was getting tricky now, slush covered and icy in spots as he sped along like the possessed road warrior that he was.

He pulled up behind the van and flashed his high beams to let them know he was back. At first the girls, pretended not to notice so he sped up and tagged their bumper. The van shuttered and kept speeding on. He could hear their screams inside his car over the techno beat now blasting and eating its way through his brain. He laughed as he crept up behind the van close enough now to see their faces. The van driver sped up not knowing that he was being followed by the king of tailgaters. This battle went on for some miles as the weather and the surface of the road progressively worsened. Snow was falling now as the van and the little car raced down the highway.

Switching tactics the van slowed down hoping the car would pass, but the car slowed down keeping pace. The occupants tried to slide down in their seats hiding themselves from view of the driver in the car. He could see them crying, screaming, pointing and he swore one of them was praying.

Up ahead the road was engulfed in a white cloud of a snow squall. The driver of the van sped up one last time, unable to lose the gray car he surrendered, slowed and headed to the shoulder. As he did so the car sped up and passed in to the white cloud. Close behind him was a large tanker truck, soon both disappeared in to the storm up ahead.

The fireball was immense, so much so that the heat seemed to melt away the snow squall. The vans back on the road now, came upon the accident. The twisted metal of the fuel truck having slid off the road going too fast it couldn't make the curve. The flames and black smoke hid from view a small gray car pulsing with the beat of music, waiting alongside the road for the two vans to pass.