#12: Henry Drake - Boring is Good

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................. sat in his truck with the windows down, motor off, smoking his last cigar. He made it last. After it was gone there wouldn’t be anything else until he got off this damn bridge. He was beginning to wonder if he ever would get off of it.

He was bored. Alive, but bored.

Boring was good. He recalled what had happened lately. Yes, boring was very good. He had started across the bridge at night, there had been a remarkably large amount of traffic. It had been foggy, with visibility limited he had been going slow. He hated driving in fog, especially on this bridge. He intended to get off the road at the first opportunity. That opportunity never came.

The windshield wipers had been whipping back and forth on high. His defogger was set to max. He still hadn’t been able to see very well. The fog was dense as cotton candy. He’d crept along wishing that he was somewhere else.

He remembered the car that had passed him like a bat out of hell. It had almost instantly vanished into the fog ahead. Almost immediately after that, he'd come upon a jackknifed truck. It had slid sideways for yards before finally stopping. Henry had barely managed to stop without hitting it, as it had been totally blocking the road.

After that it had just gotten crazy. The cops had come, he remembered helicopters. He remembered boats on the water below the bridge. The fog had not let up a bit, in fact it had got worse. He’d sat in his truck, chain smoked cigars and watched the pandemonium until he was too tired to stay awake any longer. He certainly wasn’t going anywhere with that truck and trailer sideways in the road in front of him and both lanes full of vehicles behind him. He’d crawled into his bunk and went to sleep. When the wreckers finally came they could wake him up. Evidently he’d been tireder than he’d realized. He slept for a long time.

When he woke up it was still foggy. The road was still blocked. No reason to get outside. He’d wait it out. He had no choice really. He went back to sleep. Finally he couldn’t sleep any longer and was forced to get up. He’d made coffee, smoked a cigar and looked around. He still couldn’t see much in the fog.

That had been days ago. He really didn’t know how many days. The fog had never let up. It was still pea soup. Henry had seen dense fog but never dense fog that had lasted so long. He got out of his truck and looked around some.

There was no one else nearby. He was alone.

He’d been reluctant to leave his truck at first but had decided that he’d no choice. Henry had set out walking. He’d not been on the bridge for very long he recalled so he’d just back track. It couldn’t be much more than half a mile to the end of the bridge.

After a few minutes he came to the beginning of the bridge. The road went over the levee, dipped down, and disappeared under water. Everything was flooded as far as he could see. He turned around and walked back to his truck.

What the hell. No way in holy hell was he going to check the other end of the bridge. That was twenty miles or so. He wasn’t up to a forty mile hike if it was underwater. Besides that it was getting cold. Damn cold for this far south.

.......

He wasn’t really sure how long it had been, actually. He had lost track of time in the constant fog. He slept when he got sleepy, ate when he got hungry. He might as well just sit and wait. He had food enough and fuel enough in the truck for a while yet. Problem was that he was running low on coffee.

The horror.

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The Next Episode will be
#13: Henry Drake -Executive Decision…
The Previous Episode was
# 11: Naomi - PowWow
The First Episode was
# 1 : Prologue…
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Book One: SoulStone
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