This has been done to death, I know, but it was an idea in my head and I could not deny it. Review, kay? Tell me what you like about it, what you don't, suggestions (big or small) of what I should put in the story. I'm open to a lot. And catch my mistakes for me! Ha ha.
"You drive so slowly," Paige Mathews complained, watching the scenery with bored eyes. Being the passenger was something the young girl never enjoyed.
"Well I don't want to die," Aubrey countered, letting go of the steering wheel with one hand to swat her little sister on the arm. It was the dead of winter, and they were driving roads Aubrey had never even seen before. She didn't know where the turns were, where the icy patches tended to form, or how anyone else on the road drove. She wasn't in her element.
"I want to get there on time. Can I turn up the music?"
"No," Aubrey denied. "Royce is sleeping."
Paige rolled her eyes. "Royce can sleep through anything. A little music isn't going to wake him up."
"Well I don't want to risk it." Aubrey glanced at the sleeping figure in the back seat through the rear view mirror. "He was crying for two hours before he fell asleep. Do you want to go through that again?"
"No," Paige mumbled, crossing her arms. "Will you let me drive the rest of the way?"
"Fine," Aubrey sighed, pulling over to the side of the road. Totally shocked, Aubrey was around to the passenger side of the car before Paige hopped out to take the driver's seat. She was just sixteen, and freshly able to drive by herself. It was an amazing feeling, and she tried to drive as much as possible. She'd have to go pretty slow on these new roads, but she wouldn't be crawling along like her older sister had been. They were going to be going at fifty miles an hour at least.
"Slow down, Paige," Aubrey ordered, watching the speedometer.
"Take the stick out of your ass," Paige replied politely, kicking it up by ten. She was a speed demon, no doubt about it, and these snowy roads were killing her. Aubrey cracked the window and lit a cigarette. She only smoked when she was nervous, she claimed, but she'd had at least five cigarettes a day since she was fifteen. God knew what condition her lungs were in now. Aubrey refused to let Paige smoke, though. Not that Paige wanted to. She thought it was nasty and unattractive.
"You're going too fast," Aubrey cautioned.
"Its fine," Paige assured forcefully, but she slowed down a bit anyway. They were almost there, no need to rush anymore. They were heading back to their hometown, to see their mom and step-dad. Aubrey had moved out when she turned seventeen, and Paige had followed close behind in the event of mom's total breakdown. Mom met Brad and calmed down, Aubrey had a kid, and they decided that it was finally time to get back together again for Christmas. Little Royce was almost a year old now, Aubrey was twenty, and it was just time.
"Paige, watch the road!" Aubrey screamed, grabbing the door handle uselessly. Paige blinked a few times, and then desperately swerved to avoid the semi truck in the other lane she'd floated into. Royce started crying in the backseat.
"Oh Jesus Christ," Aubrey muttered. Paige stopped the car on the side of the road, and flung the door open so she could slide out and throw up in the snow. Aubrey crawled over the seat into the back and pulled Royce out of his car seat.
Paige climbed back into the driver's seat, and pulled the keys out of the ignition. "I don't want to drive anymore," she mumbled. Aubrey laughed shakily.
"Good idea."
They sat in silence for a moment, Aubrey rocking her baby boy back to sleep. Pale snow began to fall in the dark, muffling the noise of the empty world around them. Until a pickup truck, out of control on the ice, slammed into the back of the small car and sent it tumbling down into the ditch. Miraculously the car made it to the bottom in one, mostly uncrushed piece. But no one in the car was conscious.
The driver of the truck looked down into the ditch and rubbed his blonde beard nervously. He wasn't sure if he should call the police – and get in potential shit for driving while intoxicated and whatever he'd done to the people in that car – or just drive away. If he didn't call the cops they'd surely die, if they weren't dead already.
"Shoot," the man muttered, rubbing his beard again. He paced back and forth for a few minutes before hearing someone stir down below. Peaking over the edge, he could see a young brunette and an even younger blonde stumble out of the car. The wavy-haired, older girl had a small baby held protectively in her arms. The baby seemed fine, albeit a little bruised, but the girls had cuts on their arms and faces.
He called down, "are you okay?" but got no response. The younger, straight-haired blonde popped the trunk, and pulled out two fair sized duffle bags and a baby bag. The one with the child took the baby bag and slung it over her shoulder, before the two began to climb out of the shallow ditch. They were out of breath by the time they reached the top, but as they fought to catch their breath, they were smiling. The baby wasn't even crying; he was looking around with wide, scared blue eyes.
"I'm so sorry," he apologized.
"It's alright," the blonde replied, putting down the bags. "Neither of us died. The roads are hella slippery."
"Well can I offer you a ride to the next town? It's the least I can do."
"That would be awesome, thanks," the brunette smiled. "I'm Aubrey Mathews, and this is my little sister Paige." She nodded her head towards the blonde. "And this is my son Royce."
"Name's John Connor," the man said, opening up the passenger door of his Chevy. Aubrey pushed the seat forward and got into the back with Royce – safer, since the car seat was crushed in the ditch. Paige pushed the seat back again and hopped in beside John. The middle aged man started the truck up again, and turned back onto the road at a much slower speed than he'd been going before.
"Where you two headed?" John asked, eyes on the road.
"Tulsa," Paige replied. John nodded.
"That's just up ahead, ain't it?"
"About a half hour or something," Aubrey informed. John nodded again, slowing the truck even more. They were coming up to thick fog, and as they plunged into it, the road ahead disappeared.
"Thick shit," John commented conversationally.
"A bit," Paige muttered. "I'm not feeling so good."
"My head is killing," Aubrey agreed. John didn't add, but from the grimace on his face, the girls knew he was having the same problem. They kept driving through the fog however, and when it cleared on the other side, so did the pain.
"Where are we?" Paige asked, studying the surroundings out the windshield carefully. Old buildings flashed by; old cars; kids in old shoes and greasy hair. They passed a Welcome to Tulsa sign. But Tulsa was a half hour away, was it not?
"Holy Christ," Aubrey muttered, staring at the sign over a second hand shop. Joe's Second Hand Clothes' Annual Christmas Sale, 1963!
