Thruway Story

The thruway service plaza was unusually empty, even for 2am on a Sunday. The thruway itself had been fairly busy, so it stood to reason that there would be a few cars here at least. The food court and store were closed as was the gas station, though a sign said the pumps were turned on 24 hours a day. Comforting if you needed gas. And it was eerily quiet too.

I tried to look beyond the glare of the yellow sodium vapor lights, out to the highway, but there was a mist in the air and the lights reflected off of it, making it hard to see beyond them. Oh well, it was a quick stop, people were finishing up their trips to the restroom and stomping out their cigarettes. The driver called out and I got back on along with the rest of the passengers. My seat mate, a young lady going back to college after a break was already seated by the window. We had chatted a bit, but being nearly three times her age, I let her be. She would talk if she wanted to. I reclined my seat, grabbed what passed for a pillow and tried to get some sleep.

“There are no cars.” I woke up with a start, taking a minute to focus, only realizing I was on a bus when the I got a whiff of the deodarizer from the restroom in the rear. It was my seat mate and she was pointing out the window at the road. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“Well, it’s very late.” I’d been having a very nice dream and was a bit annoyed, but it’s hard to be mad at someone that young and earnest. “Try to get some sleep.” I suggested hopefully.

No such luck. “You’ve been asleep for over an hour. Before we pulled into that service plaza there were plenty of cars, like one or two a minute. Not crowded, but since we left. Not one single car in a whole hour. I mean in either direction.”

This got my attention. “Judy” (she had told me her name) “are you sure you didn’t fall asleep yourself?” I said this as I was looking in vain to see a passing car. But as she pointed out, there was not a car to be seen.

“I have to talk to the driver.”

“What? Why?”

“We have to turn around.”

I got up and she scooted out of her seat and went up front. Within a minute that bus had pulled into one of those median cross overs reserved for police and was making a u-turn. Judy came back and took her seat.

“How the hell did you pull that off? And I am still not quite sure why to be honest.”

“He was a majorly freaked out. He called in to his dispatcher to ask if there was some kind of highway shutdown but no one answered. So then he turned on the radio and got only static.”

“So he just turned around?” I asked her.

“I told him he had to. I mean isn’t it obvious? Something happened at that rest area.”

“Like what?”

Judy shook her head. “I have no idea. But I read a lot of weird stuff I guess. I know it’s fiction, but when something weird like this happens the only way to undo it is to go back.”

“We are not in a science fiction story.” I pointed out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lecture you. But how do you know we shouldn’t have kept going.”

“Look at your phone.”

I pulled it out and turned it on. “I have no bars.”

“Neither do I,” she said. “Neither does the driver. Neither does that woman sitting right behind the driver. He can’t call his dispatcher. There are no stations on the radio. Something is very wrong.” She looked at me. “Do you have any better ideas?”

Truth be told, I didn’t. A few passengers had woken up and were grumbling about heading in the wrong direction so the driver got on the PA and announced that there was a problem and we had to head back to the service plaza. He apologized for the inconvenience, and most of the passengers went back to sleep. The few who stayed awake had noticed the lack of traffic and there was some nervous talk near the back of the bus.

“It must be a national emergency of some sort,” a man announced solemnly.

This got a number of the passengers upset, and there were even a couple of people crying, but it at least got their minds off being late.

Before long the bus had slowed down and was pulling into the service plaza. As they got closer to the main building they noticed cars parked outside, and there was a man and a woman sitting on a bench smoking. Most of the stands were closed, but the food court was open and a number of people were wandering around stretching their legs.

I looked at my watch. Damn. We’re running almost two hours late. I looked at my seat mate. Should I let her sleep? It was going to be awhile before the next rest stop. “Judy,” I said softly, trying not to startle her out of a dead sleep. “Rest stop.”

She grunted and then stretched an arm over her head, “where are we?”

“About three hours away, but we’re running late.

I got up and she followed me out, and wandered off to take a walk. I lit up a cigarette and went looking for a coffee machine. It was quiet, save for a truck pulling into the parking lot and the sound of traffic out on the thruway.

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