It was late december, in fact the night of Christmas Eve. The weather had become relatively mild compared to the last couple of days with sub zero temperatures.
John had been the only one available to make the delivery as he was the last in the team to apply for this year's holiday leave, as usual. He would probably have been the assignee anyways, as he since the divorce weren't considered to have the same obligations during holidays, or any other time for that matter. He wasn't complaining about it, he liked his job, and driving "Big trucks" had been an interest of his as far back as he could remember. He didn't even mind working night shifts, he liked being alone with the radio, for the season playing cheesy County Christmas carols. He even liked the roadside cafes and diners, or staying at truck stops for the night. It was almost like camping but with the possibility of actually locking the door behind him, crawling back in the truck's rather narrow sleeping compartment, all by himself, reading whatever he wanted without anyone interrupting him.
He liked that. He had his collection of comic books, yes he still read them even though he was a full grown man. Of course he had his collection of literature of more adult nature as well, for moments of "self entertainment". Well, literature was a bit of a stretch, really it was a bunch of dirty magazines he had been reading countless times already by now.
Needless to say, on top of everything, working nights and weekends sure was making a welcome contribution to his financial situation. And furthermore, it was a very effective way to keep his thoughts off of the divorce.
The snow had been falling pretty much all day, light at first, but it had intensified increasingly during the evening. The mild temperature had started to partly melt the icy landscape making the roads treacherously slippery and he had to use all of his driver skills and experience to keep close attention to all the little signs that could mean the difference between a smooth safe ride and basically the end to everything. He had seen quite a lot of accidents along the roads during his 30 years as a driver. In his head he sometimes pictured to himself scenes of accidents and flashing red and blue lights around a corner or beyond the crest of a hill. Luckily these were mostly just his imagination, maybe it helped him stay on his toes about the dangers that may be hiding behind the next turn.
The long narrow road had been winding through the woods and was now finally starting to open up as he rolled into a village. It was only around 10 pm so John was quite surprised about how quiet this small town was. The Christmas spirit seemed to have forgotten this place completely. It gave him a sense of unease, and he thought this might be one of those abandoned old societies he heard about or had seen on TV. This place really gave him the creeps. He was happy just to be passing by.
He was just approaching a larger intersection with a fire station on one side and a gas station on the other, when suddenly a woman was running out right in front of him, waving her arms ferociously seemingly for him to stop. In panic he stepped on the brakes putting his entire weight on it, but the huge vehicle just skidded on the slippery surface and the trailer started to Jack knife on him. "Noo, Noo, Noo!!!" he yelled, before he heard the heavy thump in the front. The brakes screeched loudly across the dark, and otherwise quiet night. He kept his foot on the brakes until eventually he came to a full stop. He couldn't move. For at least a minute he was just sitting there, panting heavily, with his heart pounding so hard his ears got numb making the radio sound muffled. The radio slowly came back and went on with its relentless country carols as if nothing happened.
As he finally found the courage, he slowly opened the door. The cold of the snowy weather swept in, but he hardly even took notice of it. He looked around before he stepped out of the truck. The rhythmic sound of the truck's engine still running was pretty much the only sound except for the flags at the gas station flapping in the wind and with the wires hitting the flagpoles. John looked around, he tried to see if anyone was there.
"Hello." he said, "Hello! Anybody there?" he shouted, but still no reply. He couldn't find any trace of anyone actually being hit, either behind the vehicle or, he paused, under it. He was expecting something, screams, blood, a body, but nothing. He shuddered. Was this all his imagination?
He suddenly jolted and his stomach clenched when he heard a voice behind him.
"Thank you for stopping."
