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smackenzieBeing the only person driving around town, or walking around the neighborhood, was eerie and unsettling and wrong. Being the only person on the highway, though, that was almost scary. Marya had gone out and about on Christmas Day and Easter, apparently the only two times of year that she could drive around and not see a single other person, but eventually you'd see someone else somewhere doing something. (If it was Christmas, you might see a hundred or so of them at the movie theater, waiting in line or waiting for the movie to start.) But there was always another vehicle on the highway. Even in the middle of the night you'd see long-haul truckers and state troopers and people who wanted to drive until they were almost asleep at the wheel, at which point they'd pull off the next exit and find a motel.
And during the day? There were always people on the highway.
Now she was definitely convinced that the end of the world was at hand. After an hour she'd hadn't even seen a cop pulled over on the shoulder waiting patiently for someone to blow past the speed limit. There was no one pulled off the road with a flat tire or because the driver had to take a leak or because a kid in the back seat was threatening to puke. No eighteen-wheelers, no RVs, no minivans, no pickups, no cars with their back windows obscured by all the stuff packed in the back seat. No cars with bike racks or out-of-season ski racks, no SUVs with their windows rolled down and the radios turned up so loud you could hear them three cars back and two lanes over. No other cars with dogs hanging out the passenger-side windows. No motorcycles. Nothing.
It was very very strange.
But at least it was still light out. Marya wasn't looking forward to navigating the highway without the light from those immense sodium bulbs hanging over the road or the glare from other cars' headlights. She figured she'd drive as far as she could before she started nodding off over the wheel, and then she'd pull over and stretch out on the back seat. And in the meantime she fiddled with the radio trying to get a signal, she talked to Oscar, and she spared a kind thought for her grandma's friend Jasmine, who should be with her son and his family by now, for the little old lady next door who had disappeared with Cujo and Cujo II, for Annette and Phil, and for Cass and even Spike.
Marya cruised down through Connecticut, skirted New York just north of Manhattan, cut across New Jersey, and headed into Pennsylvania. She'd never liked driving through Pennsylvania - it was long and boring and there weren't a lot of stops along the highway. She planned to get off I-80 at some point and turn southwards, under the assumption that if she cut across the lower middle of the country, instead of the upper middle, she could angle towards the southwest - New Mexico, Arizona - and bypass the Rockies. This time of year she was pretty sure there was still snow in the high passes, and she wasn't interested in navigating it with her van full of stuff, in the hurry she was in, especially not if the electricity out there was a nonexistent as it was out here. There were a lot of places she'd rather drive in the dark besides the mountains. Although at least it wasn't fall or winter, because then she'd be screwed. She'd be risking snowstorms and ice everywhere.
Marya kept an eye on the gas gauge and when it hit three-quarters empty she started looking for signs for gas stations. She wondered if she should have gotten off the highway in any of the Connecticut cities she'd driven through. Were there people in Hartford or Stamford or Bridgeport? What did they think about what had happened? Did they have any idea what was going on? Did they have electricity? Did their phones work? You couldn't tell these things just from driving by on the road. But she was in a hurry, and as much as she wanted to talk to other people, she didn't have time to stop to look for them.
But she did have to stop for gas. She could eat something while she was stopped, let Oscar out, check her bearings, maybe use the gas station bathroom, assuming it wasn't locked or that she could find the key. Or, well, there was always the possibility that the plumbing was kaput like the electricity was, and the toilet was backed up. That would kind of suck. Well, in that case, she'd been camping before, although not overnight for a while, she could pee in a bush. She even had toilet paper in the back of the van.
She and Oscar were almost out of New Jersey when she pulled off the highway at the suggestion of a blue highway sign that listed a couple of gas stations and fast food places located at the next exit. Shell, Exxon, McDonald's. She could do that.
The Shell station was completely dark, gas pumps included, and Marya tried every single hose without being able to get gas out of any of them. "This is a little discouraging," she told Oscar. He barked. "Let's try the Exxon."
The Exxon was likewise dark, but one of the pumps was lit up and Marya managed to fill her tank. Seventeen gallons, that wasn't bad. She couldn't pay for the gas, as there was no one to take her money and the pump couldn't read the magnetic stripe on her credit card. She felt a little guilty about essentially stealing seventeen gallons of gas, but what could she do? It wasn't as if the $45 her gas had cost would do anyone any good now.
She let Oscar out and let him run around the station, at least as much as he could with her still holding one end of his leash. He marked his territory all over the place, paused to poop in the grass, and tried to eat an empty McDonald's paper bag that had blown against the curb. Marya wondered if maybe she should feed him - she was kind of hungry herself - and then she checked her watch, looked up at the sky, and thought It's a little early for sunset. She couldn't remember what time she'd left Cass' apartment and she couldn't track the passage of time very well when she was driving anyway. Was it that late already? When did the sun start setting, anyway?
"Are you hungry?" she asked Oscar, who had finished investigating the paper bag and was now sniffing around the van's front tires. Marya hoped she hadn't run over anything that was stuck to the rubber. She pulled Oscar's leash to get him to stop trying to lick the tires, because that was disgusting. "It looks like you're hungry. I think we could eat."
She pulled him around to the back of the van so she could get out his bowl, which was sitting on top of the grocery bag of his stuff. She had to practically climb into the van to get it out, which was awkward because she couldn't let go of Oscar's leash. She'd had the forethought to put the bag of dog food at the very back of the van, by the door and against the side, so she could get to it easily. She'd leaned it against the side of the van so it wouldn't fall out at her when she opened the back door, and now she scooped some kibble into Oscar's bowl with the old measuring cup she kept in the bag, put the bowl on the ground, and let Oscar go at it.
"You must be part Hoover," she told him, watching him snarf up his dinner in record time. She shook out the bowl when he was done, half-tossed it back into the grocery bag, and grabbed the edge of the saddlebag thing that he could wear hiking. It had a nylon bowl in one of the pockets that she could use for a water bowl, since his normal plastic water bowl had fallen to the bottom of the grocery bag and Marya was not interested in digging it out. This was easier.
She slammed the back door shut, pulled Oscar back around to the passenger side, and opened the door to get to the water. She put his little travel bowl on the ground so she could fill it and then opened a second bottle for herself. She hadn't put any of the water she'd bought a couple of days ago in the fridge, so it was all room temperature - or van temperature - which was kind of gross, but it was still wet and she highly doubted Oscar particularly cared.
She wrestled the cooler open to get some chicken for herself and ate it sitting sideways in the front seat of the van. Oscar sat on the ground by the open door, acting as if he hadn't just eaten and was instead going to starve to death right before Marya's uncaring eyes. She ignored him. She wasn't going to give him the bones, either. He could choke on them, and in fact he probably would.
She wrapped the bones in a paper towel and threw them in the gas station trash barrel. She wished she had some chocolate or something. A Snickers would go down really well right about now. She looked at the little convenience store, looked around, looked at the store again, and offered a quick apology to her grandma, wherever she might be.
She tried the door, which was locked. Maybe it was for the best. But Oscar was pulling at his leash and apparently trying to get around the corner of the store to the next side. There had to be another door to try.
There was, and it stuck but wasn't locked. Marya pushed it open.
Dark gas station convenience stores were no less creepy than anything else. More so, maybe, because when Marya had gone to the grocery store at home, there was still food in the frozen cases and the dairy aisle. The lights were still on and the refrigeration still worked, although she remembered the ice melting under the fish. But there was nothing on here. She didn't even want to know what the milk smelled like in the dark refrigerated cases.
She took a couple of Snickers bars, a pack of Ho-Hos, and two packs of Twinkies. Oscar liked Twinkies. She also snagged a bottle of windshield wiper fluid, having forgotten to look for it before. She wasn't even taking that much - nothing that was worth the gas she couldn't pay for - and she still felt guilty. Part of her wanted to believe that there was a gas station owner somewhere out there who she was stealing from, who would need the money she was cheating him out of.
And part of her was convinced that every place where she stopped for gas between here and California was going to be like this. The truth was hopefully somewhere in between. There had to be people out there somewhere, and for the distance that she was planning to travel, she had to run into at least some of them.
She wedged the windshield wiper fluid in the back of the van and put the chocolate and Twinkies in the cooler. She had gas, she'd fed and watered Oscar, she'd let him pee, she'd fed and watered herself. Maybe she should use the facilities too before they headed back out. But the bathroom door was locked and she didn't feel like going back into the convenience store to look for it. The place creeped her out. The bushes would have to do.
Marya put Oscar back in the passenger seat first, then dug out the toilet paper and went to find a handy spot. There was no reason for her to be modest but she felt so exposed with her pants down around her ankles anyway that she didn't feel right with her ass hanging out flashing anyone who might happen by. Never mind that the odds of anyone happening by were about zero, she still didn't need to feel as if everyone could see her peeing in the bushes.
When she was done she threw the toilet paper in the trash barrel, climbed back into the van, and started it up. She listened to the engine running for a minute, just because it made her feel better, and then she pulled out of the gas station and onto the road and drove back to the highway. She turned into the setting sun and pulled right over to put her sunglasses on. Jesus Christ, that was bright. Her watch must be busted, because 4:00 was way too early for so much sunset. she adjusted herself, leaned over to rub the top of Oscar's head, and got back on the highway. If she hauled ass she could get out of Pennsylvania before she had to stop to sleep.
words: 2209
total words: 32,766
And during the day? There were always people on the highway.
Now she was definitely convinced that the end of the world was at hand. After an hour she'd hadn't even seen a cop pulled over on the shoulder waiting patiently for someone to blow past the speed limit. There was no one pulled off the road with a flat tire or because the driver had to take a leak or because a kid in the back seat was threatening to puke. No eighteen-wheelers, no RVs, no minivans, no pickups, no cars with their back windows obscured by all the stuff packed in the back seat. No cars with bike racks or out-of-season ski racks, no SUVs with their windows rolled down and the radios turned up so loud you could hear them three cars back and two lanes over. No other cars with dogs hanging out the passenger-side windows. No motorcycles. Nothing.
It was very very strange.
But at least it was still light out. Marya wasn't looking forward to navigating the highway without the light from those immense sodium bulbs hanging over the road or the glare from other cars' headlights. She figured she'd drive as far as she could before she started nodding off over the wheel, and then she'd pull over and stretch out on the back seat. And in the meantime she fiddled with the radio trying to get a signal, she talked to Oscar, and she spared a kind thought for her grandma's friend Jasmine, who should be with her son and his family by now, for the little old lady next door who had disappeared with Cujo and Cujo II, for Annette and Phil, and for Cass and even Spike.
Marya cruised down through Connecticut, skirted New York just north of Manhattan, cut across New Jersey, and headed into Pennsylvania. She'd never liked driving through Pennsylvania - it was long and boring and there weren't a lot of stops along the highway. She planned to get off I-80 at some point and turn southwards, under the assumption that if she cut across the lower middle of the country, instead of the upper middle, she could angle towards the southwest - New Mexico, Arizona - and bypass the Rockies. This time of year she was pretty sure there was still snow in the high passes, and she wasn't interested in navigating it with her van full of stuff, in the hurry she was in, especially not if the electricity out there was a nonexistent as it was out here. There were a lot of places she'd rather drive in the dark besides the mountains. Although at least it wasn't fall or winter, because then she'd be screwed. She'd be risking snowstorms and ice everywhere.
Marya kept an eye on the gas gauge and when it hit three-quarters empty she started looking for signs for gas stations. She wondered if she should have gotten off the highway in any of the Connecticut cities she'd driven through. Were there people in Hartford or Stamford or Bridgeport? What did they think about what had happened? Did they have any idea what was going on? Did they have electricity? Did their phones work? You couldn't tell these things just from driving by on the road. But she was in a hurry, and as much as she wanted to talk to other people, she didn't have time to stop to look for them.
But she did have to stop for gas. She could eat something while she was stopped, let Oscar out, check her bearings, maybe use the gas station bathroom, assuming it wasn't locked or that she could find the key. Or, well, there was always the possibility that the plumbing was kaput like the electricity was, and the toilet was backed up. That would kind of suck. Well, in that case, she'd been camping before, although not overnight for a while, she could pee in a bush. She even had toilet paper in the back of the van.
She and Oscar were almost out of New Jersey when she pulled off the highway at the suggestion of a blue highway sign that listed a couple of gas stations and fast food places located at the next exit. Shell, Exxon, McDonald's. She could do that.
The Shell station was completely dark, gas pumps included, and Marya tried every single hose without being able to get gas out of any of them. "This is a little discouraging," she told Oscar. He barked. "Let's try the Exxon."
The Exxon was likewise dark, but one of the pumps was lit up and Marya managed to fill her tank. Seventeen gallons, that wasn't bad. She couldn't pay for the gas, as there was no one to take her money and the pump couldn't read the magnetic stripe on her credit card. She felt a little guilty about essentially stealing seventeen gallons of gas, but what could she do? It wasn't as if the $45 her gas had cost would do anyone any good now.
She let Oscar out and let him run around the station, at least as much as he could with her still holding one end of his leash. He marked his territory all over the place, paused to poop in the grass, and tried to eat an empty McDonald's paper bag that had blown against the curb. Marya wondered if maybe she should feed him - she was kind of hungry herself - and then she checked her watch, looked up at the sky, and thought It's a little early for sunset. She couldn't remember what time she'd left Cass' apartment and she couldn't track the passage of time very well when she was driving anyway. Was it that late already? When did the sun start setting, anyway?
"Are you hungry?" she asked Oscar, who had finished investigating the paper bag and was now sniffing around the van's front tires. Marya hoped she hadn't run over anything that was stuck to the rubber. She pulled Oscar's leash to get him to stop trying to lick the tires, because that was disgusting. "It looks like you're hungry. I think we could eat."
She pulled him around to the back of the van so she could get out his bowl, which was sitting on top of the grocery bag of his stuff. She had to practically climb into the van to get it out, which was awkward because she couldn't let go of Oscar's leash. She'd had the forethought to put the bag of dog food at the very back of the van, by the door and against the side, so she could get to it easily. She'd leaned it against the side of the van so it wouldn't fall out at her when she opened the back door, and now she scooped some kibble into Oscar's bowl with the old measuring cup she kept in the bag, put the bowl on the ground, and let Oscar go at it.
"You must be part Hoover," she told him, watching him snarf up his dinner in record time. She shook out the bowl when he was done, half-tossed it back into the grocery bag, and grabbed the edge of the saddlebag thing that he could wear hiking. It had a nylon bowl in one of the pockets that she could use for a water bowl, since his normal plastic water bowl had fallen to the bottom of the grocery bag and Marya was not interested in digging it out. This was easier.
She slammed the back door shut, pulled Oscar back around to the passenger side, and opened the door to get to the water. She put his little travel bowl on the ground so she could fill it and then opened a second bottle for herself. She hadn't put any of the water she'd bought a couple of days ago in the fridge, so it was all room temperature - or van temperature - which was kind of gross, but it was still wet and she highly doubted Oscar particularly cared.
She wrestled the cooler open to get some chicken for herself and ate it sitting sideways in the front seat of the van. Oscar sat on the ground by the open door, acting as if he hadn't just eaten and was instead going to starve to death right before Marya's uncaring eyes. She ignored him. She wasn't going to give him the bones, either. He could choke on them, and in fact he probably would.
She wrapped the bones in a paper towel and threw them in the gas station trash barrel. She wished she had some chocolate or something. A Snickers would go down really well right about now. She looked at the little convenience store, looked around, looked at the store again, and offered a quick apology to her grandma, wherever she might be.
She tried the door, which was locked. Maybe it was for the best. But Oscar was pulling at his leash and apparently trying to get around the corner of the store to the next side. There had to be another door to try.
There was, and it stuck but wasn't locked. Marya pushed it open.
Dark gas station convenience stores were no less creepy than anything else. More so, maybe, because when Marya had gone to the grocery store at home, there was still food in the frozen cases and the dairy aisle. The lights were still on and the refrigeration still worked, although she remembered the ice melting under the fish. But there was nothing on here. She didn't even want to know what the milk smelled like in the dark refrigerated cases.
She took a couple of Snickers bars, a pack of Ho-Hos, and two packs of Twinkies. Oscar liked Twinkies. She also snagged a bottle of windshield wiper fluid, having forgotten to look for it before. She wasn't even taking that much - nothing that was worth the gas she couldn't pay for - and she still felt guilty. Part of her wanted to believe that there was a gas station owner somewhere out there who she was stealing from, who would need the money she was cheating him out of.
And part of her was convinced that every place where she stopped for gas between here and California was going to be like this. The truth was hopefully somewhere in between. There had to be people out there somewhere, and for the distance that she was planning to travel, she had to run into at least some of them.
She wedged the windshield wiper fluid in the back of the van and put the chocolate and Twinkies in the cooler. She had gas, she'd fed and watered Oscar, she'd let him pee, she'd fed and watered herself. Maybe she should use the facilities too before they headed back out. But the bathroom door was locked and she didn't feel like going back into the convenience store to look for it. The place creeped her out. The bushes would have to do.
Marya put Oscar back in the passenger seat first, then dug out the toilet paper and went to find a handy spot. There was no reason for her to be modest but she felt so exposed with her pants down around her ankles anyway that she didn't feel right with her ass hanging out flashing anyone who might happen by. Never mind that the odds of anyone happening by were about zero, she still didn't need to feel as if everyone could see her peeing in the bushes.
When she was done she threw the toilet paper in the trash barrel, climbed back into the van, and started it up. She listened to the engine running for a minute, just because it made her feel better, and then she pulled out of the gas station and onto the road and drove back to the highway. She turned into the setting sun and pulled right over to put her sunglasses on. Jesus Christ, that was bright. Her watch must be busted, because 4:00 was way too early for so much sunset. she adjusted herself, leaned over to rub the top of Oscar's head, and got back on the highway. If she hauled ass she could get out of Pennsylvania before she had to stop to sleep.
words: 2209
total words: 32,766
