Monroe Lorren's Story

They had set off from the last truck stop about three hours ago. Most of them were still asleep...or at least not lucid enough to talk. Under normal circumstances, Kim might have berated them, scolded them for being lazy or uncooperative.

But she was tired too, and couldn't blame them. The paper coffee cup from the truck stop trembled precariously in its cup holder, the murky brown liquid sloshing about unpleasantly. Kim didn't like coffee very much, but on days such as today, when she was driving at the crack of dawn, she needed it.

"Exit 16B, 16B..." she muttered to herself, nervously checking the crumpled up MapQuest directions she'd printed out before they left Chicago. She had distributed copies to the others, but they needed their rest. God help her, if they started rebelling over lost sleep. She'd never survive.

At last the exit appeared on the side of the road...across four lanes of traffic.

"Crap! Crap, crap, crap..." Instantly shifting to 'panic mode', and already hopped up on overly sweet coffee, Kim did the only thing she could think of, and cut across four lanes of traffic, inspiring angry honks from other interstate commuters, but not causing any immediate damage.

Safely on the exit ramp toward town, she chuckled to herself, and said in a slightly louder voice, "That's a way to start the day, eh?" Figuring that at least one of them would have been woken up by her unseemly display of automotive safety.
-Kim

(Ooops, messed up, please disregard)

Kim turns to Charlie in the back and smiles, "Good, you're awake. It was so quiet in here, I almost fell asleep."

Charlie didn't look very glad to be awake at this hour. Not that Kim blamed her; if it wasn't for copious amounts of Red Bull at the truck stop last night, they would have done much worse than skid across four lanes.

"Yes, and what a wonderful way it happens to be," Charlie answers as sarcastically as she can manage. Scowling as she shifts to a more comfortable sitting position and forcing the jacket off of her. "Do you always drive this way or is it just when your responsible for passengers?"

"I'm not used to driving, to be honest. My mom wouldn't let me touch our station wagon after I almost killed our dog." she smiled at Charlie in the rear view mirror, hoping she would perk up if only for a minute.

"How close are we?" Charlie asks curiously.

"Well..." Kim hesitated, "not quite an hour away." Which seemed the safest estimation she could make, given that the not-so-picturesque acres of shriveled corn stalks didn't seem to be ending anytime soon, "In the meantime, we can chitchat. You know how men are, they can sleep through anything," she glanced in either direction at Gerard and Monroe, winking at Charlie, inviting her to share in their little bit of female commiseration.

"Oh, and there are some funky granola bars in the box, under your seat..." she nodded toward it with her neck, "In case you're hungry."

Those bars weren't very good, but they were only two bucks each for a box of six...which was very good indeed.

Light snores drifted from the sleeping form of Monroe, his body was covered in a makeshift blanket composed of his tattered jacket and empty to semi-empty potato chip bags he had gotten from the truck stop. Flecks of crumbs dotted his dark shirt, a small dribble of drool trickled down the corner of his wide open mouth, and his glasses hung crookedly on only one ear. Suffice to say, the young man looked like a complete mess.

Though the sudden jerk of the car and multitude of blaring horns didn't wake him right away, the sound of conversation somehow did. "Wa's goin' on?" was the first thing Monroe mumbled, his mind still numb from sleep. He fumbled with his glasses to set them straight, and wiped away the waterfall of drool before glancing out the window. His eyes began to focus as most of his fatigue began fading away.

"What's going on?" he repeated a bit more clearly. He glanced out the window, suppressing a small groan. Nothing but dying corn plants. Lots and lots of corn plants. "Wait don't tell me. I think I already know the answer: absolutely nothing. Nothing is going on." They were probably close to their destination, but not close enough to bring Monroe relief. He was getting sick of being cramped inside this stupid car.

Monroe pulled his jacket over his face, trying and failing to get back to sleep. Giving up, he pulled the jacket down and halfheartedly extended a hand. "Pass me a bar," he mumbled. He was pretty sure that those granola bars were a quick one way ticket to food poisoning, but he was at this point too hungry and tired to care.

"Well..." Kim hesitated, "not quite an hour away."

Great.

Charlie sighs and smoothed her hair away from her face. She's about to continue their conversation when Monroe pipes up, having been woken up in the same manner as her. She looks him over for a moment and rolls her eyes when she notices he had been drooling.

"What's going on?" he repeated a bit more clearly. He glanced out the window, suppressing a small groan. "Wait don't tell me. I think I already know the answer: absolutely nothing. Nothing is going on."

Nothing was a little bit of an understatement in Charlie's opinion.

"Charlie, could you get him a bar?" Kim asked her, "I don't want to get distracted again. You know how terrible those insurance claim forms are."

"Sure, why not." Charlie mumbles. She snaps shut her compact with a sigh and grabs one of the bars. She tosses it to Monroe with little care whether he catches it or not. She isn't trying to act disdainful towards her fellows purposely, but Charlie never really knows how to act when it comes to everyone else.

"You know guys this is usually how horror movies start," Charlie comments. "I'd prefer Vampires over Aliens and crop circles though."

"What about ghost-alien-vampires?" said Kim, snorting in an unseemly fashion, "Like, you know the ghosts of aliens who suck blood?"

"Hah!" Charlie laughs, "I wouldn't mind that." She yawns and is echoed by Kim's comment about being tired. She nods, and watches Kim fumbling for the Sun-Shade screen. "Uhm, Kim should you really be messing with that rig-" Charlie didn't get to finish her sentence as she jerked forward suddenly, without the aid of her seatbelt she had collided with the seat in front of her and managed to jam her foot up under it. "Jesus Christ Kim!" She yells out furiously.

She forced herself back, foot throbbing a little bit from being twisted but otherwise uninjured. She doubted any of them were seriously hurt from the quick halt, but she still feels a little stupid over having forgotten her seatbelt.

"Oh my God, is everyone okay?"

"Relatively, maybe a little shaken up though," Charlie answers without any of her earlier anger behind it. Now she was just grateful that it wasn't worse, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Distract him. I think my wallet got stuck under the brake pedal."

"What?" Charlie asks incredulously, "Oh Jesus, fine." She whispers hastily, moving to roll down the backseat window and peering out at the cop. "Excuse me sir," She says to the cop, flashing her most concerned look at him.

"Are you all right?" She asks, referring to the limp. "It would be horrible if you were hurt because of us, I would just feel so guilty about it." She rambles on, a complete and utter lie but hopefully the cop didn't notice this. Charlie wouldn't be surprised if he did believe her though, she had often used this sort of tactic when she was younger to get her way.

"We should have been more careful, I just can't believe this!" Charlie puts a hand to her face, attempting a more guilty face, simply just trying to buy Kim some time now. "I promise we never meant for this to happen." That was probably laying it on a little thick and Charlie had to bite back a wince as her voice faltered. Maybe she wasn't as good at this as she was when she was younger.