approach.
The trees thinned ahead, and the trail opened
up into a small road. I stopped just short of the tree line,
shifted into neutral, stomped on the emergency brake, and climbed
out. Walking up to the edge of the trees, I peered right and left.
Nothing but empty expanses of black asphalt flowing off in both
directions, eventually disappearing around dark curves. The night
sky glittered off the dark surface of the road, a manmade stream
forcing its way through the enveloping forest. Four lanes wide, and
well maintained, this looked to be a fairly major highway. I
wondered why it was so deserted. Maybe the late hour? It was down
South, where people seemed to maintain more conventional sleep
schedules. Then something occurred to me. Maybe the military had
closed off the road at both ends? They knew I was coming this way!
Suddenly everything seemed like part of a trap. I ran back to the
Jeep and jumped in. Tearing forward, I bounced down through the
drainage ditch, onto the roadway, and up again as I mounted the
other side. Back on track, I lumbered through the trail, now
plagued by a nagging sense of dread. The Jeep wrenched violently
over rocks, tipping dangerously to the left. I had no choice but to
slow down. I was pushing it, trying to navigate the trail too fast.
It wasn’t even the possible ambush awaiting me—it was the
anticipation! I want this over with! I want to face my assailants
now!
Suddenly I was overcome with a sense of calm.
I had come this far. Everything was going to work out. They had no
idea what they were dealing with. I just had to keep moving. The
greatest danger was in getting captured.
Finally, the sun started to rise. Not yet
visible, its coming was evidenced by the slowly bluing sky. I
switched off my KC lights. The trail ahead narrowed into a rocky
crevice, a narrow passage hewn out of the rock walls by millennia
of long since dissipated water. It was nothing I couldn’t pass
through, but the narrow valley and large rocks meant I would have
to slow my pace to a crawl. At five miles an hour I rumbled
forward, the leaf springs creaking as they compressed and
decompressed. The whole thing was like a concave rut. I scuttled
down slippery rocks, the Jeep tipping perilously to and fro. The
Jeep leveled out briefly, and then started a slight ascent, the
tires grinding and slipping over uneven boulders. Good thing I
installed a locker in the rear. A little added insurance. I also
had a winch on the front, just in case. I lumbered up the other
side, the trail finally opening up into a more stable dirt
path.
A little farther through the woods, and I
could see another road just a few feet ahead. I didn’t really have
time to slow my pace. Hopefully I was far enough away from the base
to be written off by any onlookers as someone doing some
off-roading. I was sure they would put it all together at some
point, but by then it would be far too late. Then again, if this
were state owned, they wouldn’t want me here after dark. The trees
parted, and I bounced out onto the shoulder of the road. I stomped
on the brakes and scanned right and left. This was getting strange.
There was nothing but a long, flat roadway extending in both
directions—double lanes, and perfectly visible with my
amplification of the pre-dawn light. Apart from the slight mist
wafting upwards at the far edges of the roads, nothing moving. I
leaned out the left-hand side and peered up into a dark sky, just
starting to metamorphose from black to blue. Stars shone brightly,
some twinkling, hinting at some deeper mystery. But that was it. I
concentrated on listening. Some mammal burrowed in the dirt,
several squirrels scampered up trees, branches whispered softly in
the wind. Nothing human. I didn’t like this at all. I pushed down
on the gas and powered forward. I sped across the highway and
climbed back up onto the trail.
What is waiting for me? I can’t even plan
what to do about it if I don’t know. The Jeep bounced back
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