Carrington Event - Book 1 - Chapter 3

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This chapter is from Ivan's Perspective

I sat in my truck, slamming the door shut, annoyed by how long it had taken to get my bill of lading signed. Glancing at the time on the dash computer, my heart sank. It read 9 hours 10 minutes driven. 12 hours 30 minutes active. I decided to call my wife, my irritation growing. But as soon as she picked up, my annoyance melted away. She always had a way of making me happy, no matter what.

“Hey, honey, I’ve got good news and bad news,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. I didn’t believe it, so I knew my wife didn’t buy it.

“You dropped off the load, and you’re safe, but you don’t have enough time to make it home?” she asked, her voice warm and soothing.

I leaned my head back and rubbed my eyes in resignation. “Yeah, you know me so well.” I exhaled a long slow sigh.

She laughed warmly. “Honey, I’ve known you for damn near 30 years at this point. No, over 30 years now. We’ve been married for 25 of them. Of course, I know you.” She paused. But I couldn’t come up with anything to say. She continued after a few seconds. “When will you make it home?”

I opened my eyes and started driving, checking my map. I had just enough time to make it to my favorite truck stop. They had the cleanest showers, and I’ve never heard of a break-in on their lot.

“Probably around 4 or 5 in the morning. I’ll try not to wake you up,” I replied, already looking forward to home. I just wanted to warm my bones, enjoy my wife and read my books.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you breakfast if you wake me up,” she assured me.

I couldn’t help but smile at her kindness. “What kind of breakfast?” I asked playfully, but she had already hung up on me. I got a feeling she knew where I would go with that.

Oh well, at least the spark was still there in person. Even if she didn’t flirt with me on the phone anymore.

I really should just retire. It’s not like I had a shortage of things to do at home. Then again, if I did retire, I don’t think I would last more than a few months before getting an itch to do something else. I was just like my Uncle. Rest in peace.

I arrived at the truck stop with precisely 21 minutes left on my driving timer. With expert maneuvers, I parked the truck and decided to clock out early. I set my alarm for nine hours from then since I could drive again in ten hours. I hated the regulations, but I hated paying fines and getting points more.

Walking inside, I reserved a shower and ordered “dinner” at the truck stop’s diner at three in the afternoon. My food, burgers, and fries came out quickly, and I sat in my usual spot, watching the news as I ate. The stories ranged from a local shooting to some distant war and a report about the sun being unusually active. I received a notification that my reserved shower was ready as I finished my meal.

Feeling satisfied and clean after my shower, I climbed into my truck’s sleeper, cranked the A/C, and dozed off, dreaming of my wife. Unfortunately, my dreams were interrupted around midnight by my alarm.

My heart sank a little, realizing that it was time to get back on the road. After a few minutes of pouting, I remembered that every mile I drove brought me closer to being back in the loving arms of my wife. With that thought in mind, I prepared myself for the not-so-long night ahead.

I was driving empty home, so I didn’t need that much fuel. But I still decided to fill it up just in case. Worst case scenario, I had gas for next week when I was returning on the road. I had some things to handle locally before driving across the country again.

Though on the subsequent route, I was scheduled to be within easy distance of two of my three kids. I was looking forward to catching up with them for a few days. My engineer and medical student, the oldest and middle, were overachieving in their fields. And I couldn’t be more proud.

I chuckled, remembering that my youngest was going to be in a surprise in about a month. His mom and I have been coordinating with his girlfriend and our other kids to surprise him for his birthday in Japan. What was even cooler was that it corresponded with the cherry blossoms.

It broke my heart to tell him we were busy this year for his birthday. He wanted to fly home to celebrate, but I insisted that we were all too busy. He took it kinda bad, but I’m hoping he will forgive us all in a month when we surprise him.

About an hour into the drive, around 2 in the morning, the truck suddenly lost all power. The air brakes kicked in, and I did everything possible to keep the truck from jackknifing while maneuvering it to the edge of the road. After a long, tense few seconds of struggling, the truck came to a complete stop.

I picked up my phone to call for a tow truck, but the phone wasn’t working. Before I could figure out what was happening, I felt a slight thud, and my heart sank.

I tore out of the cab and sprinted to the back of the truck, huffing when I reached the back. There was smoke coming from the back of the trailer where a car had driven headlong into it, burying itself under the trailer all the way to the back seat.

I couldn’t see anyone inside the wrecked car because it was dark, and they didn’t respond when I called them. Panic rising, I returned to the cab and tried to get my phone to work, but it was completely dead. No buttons worked. I reached for the CB, but that wasn’t responding either.

Jumping out of the cab, I looked around. My eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness, and I noticed a dark-colored car stopped not far away. I ran over and knocked on the window, and a scared face looked back at me. I asked and motioned if their phone worked, but they just shook their head no.

Desperation was overflowing in me. I had to do something, but I was powerless to do anything. Every second that passed, the percentage of possibly saving the people in the car under my trailer dropped. Looking around, I couldn’t see any more cars. I also noticed that there were no lights on anywhere either. Everything was dark. No car headlights. No streetlights. No house lights.

Desperate, I ran back to my cab and used the roof ladder to climb onto the trailer. It gave me a good vantage point to survey the surrounding area. In every direction I looked, it was dark. There were no sounds of life either. No lights shone from houses, and there were no police cars or ambulances in sight. Everything was eerily silent.

Feeling helpless and despair, I resigned that I couldn’t do anything for the people in the car under the trailer. My brain shifted gears, trying to understand why everything was so dark and quiet. Even at night, the world was never so peaceful in the big cities.

I knew I was in a rough part of town, so going around the ghetto and looking for answers at two in the morning didn’t appeal to me. It was too risky. I wanted to find help but didn’t want to get shot while looking for it.

Climbing back down from the trailer, I decided to focus on securing the accident scene as best as possible, considering the circumstances. I rummaged through the truck’s emergency kit and found reflective triangles and glow sticks. I set them up around the crash site, hoping they would alert any passing vehicles or emergency services.

I climbed back onto the trailer and scanned the surroundings once more. Maybe an hour had passed since the crash, but there were still no lights in my immediate vicinity. Even more unsettling was the absence of sirens from emergency services.

What I did notice, however, was an orange glow here and there in the distance, accompanied by the smell of smoke. There must have been some house fires, but still no signs of firefighters rushing to extinguish them. The situation was becoming more and more surreal, as if I had entered some alternate reality where the standard rules no longer applied.

I continued to observe my surroundings from atop the trailer when I noticed movement in the neighborhood close to the highway. A group was walking down the street, carrying what looked like candles. I was about to climb down and run to them for help, but something in my gut told me to wait and watch for a moment.

As I observed, they turned and walked up to a house, kicking the door down without hesitation. Shocked and motionless, I heard gunshots ring out in the deathly silent night. The group of people sprinted out of the house, no longer holding the candles and carrying various items.

Realizing the danger I might be in, I hurriedly tumbled down the ladder and jumped into my cab, my heart pounding with fear. I locked the doors and used the seat belts to secure the door handles, ensuring they couldn’t be opened from the outside.

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