The Road to Nowhere: A post-apocalyptic novel Read online

  The

  Road

  To Nowhere

  LEE ARGUS

  Copyright © 2011 Lee Argus

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, incidents/ events, businesses, organizations, and places are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the duplication and re-selling of this book, revisions, or usage of materials/ any part of this book without permission by the author.

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  THE ROAD TO NOWHERE

  1 LOST

  2 QUICK DRIVE

  3 RESTLESS

  4 BURNING BRIGHT

  5 BEST LAID PLANS

  6 CAR SICK

  7 NIGHT TERRORS

  8 CHOICES

  9 AT A LOSS

  CHANCE ESCAPE SAMPLE

  BIOGRAPHY

  CONTACT INFORMATION

  1 LOST

  I’ve killed. I’ve murdered dozens, if not hundreds.

  The first thing I remembered is waking up in a dark room with sterile white walls, and the smell of cleaning chemicals. I couldn’t remember how I got into the room, where I came from, or even who I was.

  I tried to think back, to remember something. A few hazy memories slipped away as soon as I tried to grasp them. Why couldn’t I remember? Was there an accident? Maybe I hit my head on something. I still knew what things were. I knew what I was laying on was called a bed. What I didn’t know was what I looked like, or my name. I didn’t even know the month or year it was. How could I have forgotten? What happened?

  My hand couldn’t reach the call button, because my arm felt weak. In fact, everything felt weak. My entire body felt sore and throbbed with sharp jabs of pain, my mouth felt dry, and my vision upon waking was blurred. It took a moment or two for it to adjust.

  Once I could see, I could barely turn my head enough to make out an empty IV bag that led to a needle stuck into my hand. It throbbed with pain, and probably was what had waked me from sleep. I wondered how long I was out.

  I tried to call for a nurse, but I doubt the guttural croak that came out of my throat could have been heard from outside the closed door of my room.

  I took a few slow breaths and forced my hands to reach across my body far enough to pull out the tube and needle from my hand. Tape kept the needle firmly inserted. Several sharp tugs caused further pain and discomfort, until it was finally free. A few drops of blood ran down my fingers before it stopped. The copper smell of blood sharply contrasted the smell of cleaning chemicals.

  After a few attempts, I finally moved far enough to push the nurse call button. Nothing happened. I pushed it again, but still nothing. After looking around, I noticed none of the equipment that surrounded me was on.

  My room was completely dark, except for a small amount of light that escaped around drawn curtains. Was the power out? I thought hospitals had back-up generators.

  I cleared my thoughts and realized that I needed to get outside of the room. I needed to find out what had happened to me. I grabbed both railings but was unable to pull myself up. Instead, I pulled my body down to the bottom of the bed. My legs hung down, and I rolled myself over to my stomach.

  The ground felt unsteady under my feet, and before I could brace myself I was laying on the floor in pain.

  I felt weak, but managed to crawl to the door. It had appeared closed from the bed, but it was slightly ajar. I pulled it open, but the hallway outside the door was dark.

  Overhead lights occasionally flickered on and off; giving short bursts of light that illuminated the hallway.

  No one was visible in the hallway in front of the door, so I pulled myself out. I noticed there was a wheelchair in the hall. I was able to pull myself up on to it with some effort. From the higher view of the chair I saw that there was no one else in the hallway.

  Something looked off. Papers were scattered everywhere, some stuck to red stains of what looked like splattered, dried blood. What had happened?

  I rolled the wheelchair down the hall, past what looked like the nurse’s station. It was difficult to see while searching. I was almost completely blind whenever the lights flickered off.

  I kept going down the hallway, and tried my voice again. I knew that my voice wasn’t loud enough to be heard, unless someone was close enough to hear me, but I still tried. What I really needed was some water. A cool drink would ease the arduous thirst that was turning my throat into sandpaper.

  I made my way past another hall. There was still no one, and nothing to see, except for more blood. Blood that trailed into (or out of?) most of the empty rooms, and now started to looked as though it had been rubbed on both walls of the narrow hallway.

  The questions kept on piling up.

  I finally reached a flight of stairs, I began to worry. I doubted my legs were strong enough to handle the steps, and I didn’t think that I could make it down in the chair. Thoughts reeled my mind. I had passed a few elevators, but with how the power was acting, they were probably inoperable. Even if they did work I wouldn’t want to be stuck in one if the power shut off completely.

  I was able to push open the door to the stairs, but there was no light. The hallway flashes showed that it was fairly wide, and at a gentle slope. 3rd Floor was written above the top of the stairs. It was a relief to know I wasn’t all the way on the highest floor.

  I had to find other people. I had to know what was going on. Concentrating on those thoughts, I rolled to the edge of the stairs.

  I kept a firm grip on the two wheelchair hand rims, and began my descent. The first step rocked my balance hard enough to almost topple me off the chair. The second and third step went easier but then the wheel hit the fourth step too hard, and I went out of control.

  My balance was lost, and before I could react my body tumbled out of the careening chair, and struck hard against the concrete floor. I felt a sharp flash of pain as my head hit the wall and heard a faint ringing sound while my ears muted. I clutched at my skull, and stifled a yell. Instead it came out as a grunt of pain.

  I sat in place for a few minutes. There was nothing but pain. Pain surged through my body and more pain blossomed in my head. Slowly it faded into a dull ache. I felt around, groping in the dark. My hand came across the chair behind me, but I wasn’t going to try it again. The next time I might break my neck. Instead I pulled myself down the stairs, using the handrail.

  Having fell down only one flight of stairs, there would be three more flights to make it to the ground floor. I was able to put my feet under myself, enough to hold myself up. I half stumbled down to the first floor. My legs ached, but felt slightly stronger.

  I opened the ground floor door, not knowing what to expect. It was a scene almost identical to what was upstairs, except for even more blood and scattered debris.

  What had happened? Was there some emergency, but no one remembered to get me? Was I forgotten? Left behind?

  Until I found someone, I would have no answers to those questions.

  My legs shook under me, and I had to lean on a counter to keep myself balanced. My bare feet felt cold on the floor. Someone must have put slipper socks on me while I was asleep. The thin material that made my patient gown did little to keep me warm.

  I reached a waiting room. There was no one waiting. The corridor led me to the main lobby. I had noticed the front entrance doors had been left wide open, and outside the door it was raining. From what I could see, it had been raining for some time. The curb of the street was flooded with a rushing pool of dingy water.


  I walked out and the sun pierced through a few thick grey storm clouds. I felt almost blinded by it. My eyes squinted almost shut, and I was forced to look down at the ground. I cupped my hands around my eyes, and the light was bearable, though only barely.

  I took a good look around. I saw the street in ruin and two bodies lying on the asphalt. There wasn’t much I could see from where I was, so I had to get closer. The thought of getting closer to two corpses was disturbing. They could have died yesterday, or a month ago for all I knew. They had definitely died at different times. One body looked more decayed and bloated than the other. However they died, it hadn’t been of natural causes.

  The body closer to me had cuts that had taken small chunks out of his flesh. It had been a man, but I couldn’t tell whether he had been old or young. The dried blood and damage made it difficult to tell much of anything. His head had been turned all the way around, so that I could see his face, even though his chest and stomach were lying sprawled out on the ground. One eye was missing, and both ears had been removed, leaving ragged flesh and congealed blood that surrounded gaping holes where ears should have been.

  It was harder to make out any details on the body that had been there for a while. The shirt had been ripped off in shreds. His head had been pulled back to the point where it touched his shoulder blades. His throat had been sliced open to accomplish this. If it hadn’t been raining, I was sure that the smell would have been awful.

  While standing there I noticed something had chewed the fingers down to tiny stubs. I hoped it had happened after he died. I couldn’t imagine how it must’ve felt to have something gnawing on them while still conscious.

  I kept looking, examining, though I took a few steps back. I didn’t want to stand there too long. Even if it had been a serial killer or some other predator, it was overkill. Long strips of skin had been peeled off the body where bone and strands of ligaments could be seen.

  The shock of what I was seeing wore off, and I started to gag and dry heave. If I had anything in my stomach it would have been all over the ground. With how weak I already was, I fell to my knees. Once my stomach was back in control I saw that I was kneeling on a newspaper. It was soaked with rainwater, and looked stuck to the cement. I tried to make out what was written on it.

  “Las Vegas, Nevada Bulletin”

  Masthead; Insanity sweeps Across the Nation.

  Was I in Las Vegas? I remembered what Vegas looked like, but there weren’t any casinos around that I could see. Maybe I was far enough from the strip to be away from them. What was I doing in Vegas? Vacation? Did I live here?

  The rain had caused the remaining ink to smear into unintelligible nonsense. I tried to pick it up, but it fell apart in my hand. Insanity, I thought to myself. The words stood with me for a while until I noticed the hospital socks I had been wearing were soaked in cold water.

  It was one hell of a storm. Rain had poured down heavier than before. Black thunder clouds swirled overhead, and gusts of wind blew as much rain into my face as was falling onto my head. I backtracked to the hospital’s awning, which kept me mostly dry. Not that it helped with the cold, wet socks.

  Across the street, I was able to see a small clothing store. I needed a change of clothes and dry socks. Shoes wouldn’t hurt either. I made my way to it passing abandoned cars, a displaced shovel, and a worn doll that had seen much use, but was now left out in the cold rain. What had happened to the doll’s owner?

  The window in the shop had been smashed. An iron security gate had been half drawn across the front, as if someone didn’t have enough time to finish what they had started. I had to be careful entering the window, as sharp glass shards reached up from the window frame, ready to cut the unwary.

  Once inside the shop I had noticed that on one wall a large cross had been drawn in what I hoped was red paint. Large letters underneath read, “GOD SAVE US”. I wondered if he had.

  The overcast day did little to show the rest of the store in great detail. The closest racks of clothing looked like women’s clothing, but there was a mannequin dressed in jeans, a simple light tan shirt, and a brown leather jacket.

  It took some work to pry the clothes off of the dummy. Trying them on took almost as much effort. They surprisingly fit, although the pants were long enough to need to be rolled up twice at the ankles.

  There were shoes on a rack near the entrance to the store that I had missed on the way in. There were no socks that I could see, so I ended up taking the ones I had been wearing off, and wringing what water I could out of them.

  I put them back on, and tried to find a pair of shoes that would fit. The first two pairs I tried on were far too small. The third pair fit well enough, and was more like hiking boots, than regular shoes.

  There was nothing else in the store that was of much use. I tried the phone behind the counter, but there was no dial tone. It didn’t surprise me.

  I walked back out onto the sidewalk. The rain had let up some, and there was only a few drops falling now and then. The cold didn’t bother me in my new clothes, and I felt a lot less naked.

  What I had to figure out is where I was going to go. I didn’t know which streets I should take, or even what any landmarks would look like.

  My stomach was aching in hunger, so the first thing I had to do was get something to eat. The hospital was right there, but I wasn’t in the mood to stumble around in the dark. I picked a direction at random, and started walking.

  Once my legs started moving, the muscles in them started to loosen. I felt much stronger that I had when I woke up, just really hungry.

  I stayed in the middle of the street, hoping to be seen by someone else. I kept looking left and right, but didn’t see anything.

  Once or twice I thought I saw something move in a dark window, but staring there for a few more seconds revealed nothing. I must have just been imagining things.

  A gas station on the corner seemed like a good place to search. I felt sharp pangs of hunger now, and I had to eat. I got to the front doors, which were locked. I knocked on the door, lightly at first, then more insistently. There was no answer.

  With no one around, I decided to break the window, so I took a metal cigarette can near the front and smashed the glass of the door.

  The sound of broken glass was louder than I thought it would be. I half expected to hear police sirens, but there was only silence. If this was Las Vegas, where were all of the people?

  I stepped into the gas station. I couldn’t see anyone, but there was a horrible smell in the air. It was like a trashcan had thrown up into another trashcan. I pulled my shirt up over my face to help mask the smell.

  The first thing I saw was beef jerky. I grabbed a handful of packages, as well as a gallon of water. The smell inside was too foul to eat in, so I went out. In frenzy, I tore open the first bag and stuffed handfuls of jerky into my mouth. While I chewed, I opened the gallon of water to help wash it down. Before I knew it, there were four empty bags and half an empty gallon of water.

  Still unsatisfied, I pulled my shirt back up and went in. This time I took a few bags of chips, some candy bars, and more water. I looked at the sandwiches in the cooler, but the green fuzz that had formed on them gave an unappealing look.

  This time I was only able to eat half of the food, and some of the water. The chips and candy bars were not as satisfying as the dried meat. I had absentmindedly licked the melted chocolate and chip powder from my hands.

  There was a beat up, red car parked at the gas pumps, door ajar. I cautiously approached the vehicle, and decided to look around. It had a Nevada State license plate, which helped confirm that I was in Las Vegas.

  The interior of the car was empty. There was luggage packed into the backseats. Whoever left the car had done so in a hurry. The key was still in the ignition. I was going to start the car, and saw myself in the rear view mirror.

  Why had I not thought to see how I looked like before? I didn’t remember who I was, or what I looked li
ke. Seeing my reflection was like looking at a stranger. I examined myself with fascination.

  There was a short beard on my face, not a well maintained beard at that. It looked wrong for some reason. I don’t think I normally wore facial hair. My skin was very pale, and long black hair hung unkempt on my face. I couldn’t tell how old I was. I could have been twenty five or in my early forties. The only distinguishing feature I saw was a thin scar that ran down one eyebrow and turned sharply across my cheek. Whatever had happened, it must have just missed my left eye.

  I felt as though I was looking at a stranger. I kept looking at the mirror, hoping for some flash of memory or insight to tell me who I was but none came.

  I turned the key in the ignition, not knowing what to expect. It didn’t start up. Probably a dead battery, I thought. I searched in the car for useful items. The glove compartment did have a flashlight, and a detailed map of south western America.

  The flashlight had a cheap, plastic feel. It worked well enough, and that was what counted. The map had small, magnified maps of large cities. That would come in handy. I placed both in the inside pockets of the leather jacket.