Driving In Nebraska

Be Warned This Story Contains Nearly 15,000 Dead Bodies.

Even though Demann Nebraska was only abandoned a few decades ago, its existence and history have completely vanished from living memory. You can no longer find it on any maps or signs. No one talks about Susan’s iconic Baked Nebraska, or her diner anymore. No one remembers the famous family-owned inn located on Gertrude road. Route 61 has fallen silent, no longer do you hear the church bells, the traffic, or the chatter from the gas station rest stop. The radio station has ceased its broadcasting, its mast dark and dead.

The typewriter in the newspaper office no longer rings with each typed line. The old computer in Miguel’s wood shop no longer keeps orders. You can no longer hear children laughing and playing during recess, or hear Mrs. Pearson teaching freshmen history.

June 12th, 2018

Tony was driving down Nebraska Route 61 on his way to see a relative near Rapid City, South Dakota. He was jamming to some tunes on his phone when the music stopped. He looked at the screen, it had one alert displayed…

“I can see you Tony.”

“What on Earth? Is this some sort of sick joke?”

He continued along until his engine chugged, started knocking, backfired, and then stalled. It sounded like it was coming apart and might explode.

“What the heck! Are you kidding me? What just happened?”

He coasted to a stop on the shoulder. As Tony sat trying to process what had happened, his phone dinged. Checking it showed a new alert…

“We are watching you, we see you, we hear you.”

Tony scoffed and cleared it. A few moments later, the camera opened and changed to selfie mode. His eyes widened and he reached for the door handle. Another alert chimed…

“Please don’t open that door. We need you to save us.”

The doors locked.

“Uh! What? Help! Help! Help!”

As he struggled with the lock, his radio came on. There was a bunch of static, then it started scrolling through stations before stopping.

“This is KDMN 950 live from Demann, your source for all things Nebraska news. Today’s date is Tuesday, March 17th, 1992. Up next at 12 o’clock noon, a woman who went missing while walking her dog has been found. But first, weather and traffic.”

The radio returned to static as Tony tried to turn it off.

1992? Demann?

His phone rang. The caller ID read ‘Demann City Hall’

He sighed and answered. “What do you want?”

A female replied cheerfully. “Is this Tony Mason?”

“Yeah? What do you want from me?”

“I just called to confirm you’re still attending the meeting with the permit office that you scheduled for today, March 17th at noon.”

“I never scheduled that.”

“Great! We’ll see you there! Safe travels!”

There was silence. The other end had disconnected. After a moment, the engine started by itself. Tony restarted his directions and started driving to his aunt’s house, hoping that he was just tired.

It has been a long journey, and that hotel bed was uncomfortable. I’m probably just going crazy from the long trip.

“Recalculating. Recalculating.” His GPS told him. “Faster route detected. New arrival time is negative 9-5-8-3 days. In 1,000 feet, turn right, Gertrude Road.”

Tony ignored his GPS. There was no way it could be accurate.

As he was about to pass the turn, the car whined and started smoking. He turned onto Gertrude road and was about to stop when the vehicle quit having problems. He sighed as he understood there was no escape. He continued down the rutted overgrown road that had clearly not seen use in years.

What is Demann? It can’t be a town, the nearest town is miles away.

He pulled into a driveway and stopped. His phone chimed, an alert read, “Save us please. Explore Demann, free us. I beg you.”

The car doors unlocked, so Tony parked, shut off the engine and got out. He was not doing this willingly, but had realized he had no choice. The building in front of him was large and two stories tall. There was a sign above the door that read ‘Bradson Family Inn’. There were no lights on in the lobby, and the place had clearly seen better days.

As Tony approached, he saw someone pass by him wheeling a luggage cart with suitcases on it. He looked back at the building and noticed the lights were on, the decay was gone, and the parking lot neat, maintained, and crowded. A bell tolled somewhere in the distance, chiming 7:00.

There was something about the people and cars, they seemed to be strangely translucent. He turned around and surveyed the area, brow furrowed in confusion. Cars drove past on a road that was free of ruts and grass. He turned back to the front door, a guy in some sort of bellhop uniform had exited and was helping someone. The image flickered back to its current dilapidated state. A rusty luggage cart lay on its side next to an abandoned car. He walked over to it, on the dash was a wallet. He tried the driver’s side door and found it was unlatched, so he reached in and grabbed it. There was an ID in it from a Joseph Nidwald, he stashed the ID in the wallet and left it on the dash.

He headed towards the building and looked through the front windows, everything seemed to have been left behind.

A thick layer of dust now coated the lobby. He noticed a person wearing ripped jeans, a flannel shirt, and a backwards baseball cap, slumped on a couch. Shuddering, Tony turned and returned to his car. Unfortunately, his car keys were no longer there. His phone showed a todo list, there were two items.

“Investigate the Bradson. Uncover the past. Put our souls to rest.”

and, “Check in, Francis Brooks.”

Tony sighed and returned to the front door. When he arrived, the lights flickered and came on, he now saw guests roaming around. They were no longer translucent. However, everything had become slightly overexposed. A bell in the distance faintly called out the hour, 8:00.

The sliding door opened and Tony entered, he looked at himself and realized he was wearing a suit and bow tie. In his hand was now a briefcase. He went to the front desk, but saw no staff. There was a bell, so he rang it. Moments later, an employee appeared from the back, his nametag despite being hard to make out read, “Joseph Bradson”

“Hello! Welcome to the Bradson Family Inn! Are you checking in?”

“Yes.” Tony’s voice was now fairly gravely, a significant difference from his normal one.

“Alright! Can I get a name?”

“Francis Brooks.”

“Alright! How many nights are you staying?”

“Just one.”

“Alright! That’ll be 34 dollars.”

Tony, or Francis as he is currently, checked his pockets and found a wallet. He paid with cash. Joseph smiled again.

“Thank you! Enjoy your stay. You are room 113. Go right at the fork, and to the end of the hall.” He handed Francis a card.

“Thank you.”

Francis walked to his room and let himself in. He set his briefcase on the desk and sat. Everything flickered and faded. Suddenly he was Tony again, standing at reception. He noticed Joseph crumpled behind the desk, he then saw his car keys next to the bell and grabbed them. Once headed back outside and to his car, Tony saw that his phone showed a new message.

“Now that you’ve seen the Bradson in its former glory, you are closer to understanding our story and helping our souls rest. Head into downtown, please.”

Tony let out a small sigh and started his car. He checked his fuel and noticed it was now reading full. He put it in drive and exited the parking lot. His GPS guided him deeper into the woods. He passed a few derelict homes until his GPS finally told him his destination was on his left. He saw an old sign that read “Susan’s Diner”. He turned into the parking lot and parked. He shut off his engine and as he was about to take his keys out, they vanished. He sighed, now understanding the drill.

He checked his phone, his to-do list had changed. There was a new uncrossed item, “Trevor’s visit to Susan’s Diner.”

He got out and headed to the door, once again the lights flickered on and everything turned slightly overexposed. Tony looked at himself. He was wearing jeans, and a hoodie. He looked back, his car was gone, but everything looked neat and maintained. He entered the diner and found a free booth. A woman came over and handed him a menu.

“Hello again, Mr. Murphy! Would you like your usual coffee?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” Trevor said.

Tony didn’t seem to have much control over events, but that made sense since this seemed to be an echo of the past or something. He could look, but not act.

The clock on the wall read 8:45. The bell on the door chimed and Tony recognized Francis Brooks.

His drink arrived and he ordered pancakes. Cars drove past, it was peaceful, serene even. He heard a noise and looked up, it was the clock tower. After a short melody, it sounded 9:00.

Tony continued to wait and listen to the rock and roll music playing over the speakers.

He heard a lady yell, “Let there be fire!”

He turned in time to see a woman brandishing a plumbing torch wildly before blasting a dessert. Other patrons cheered and clapped, Trevor did too.

She brought the still-smoking dessert to someone and proudly announced “Here’s your Baked Nebraska! Enjoy! Careful, she’s still hot.”

The lady went back into the kitchen and resumed cooking.

Once again everything flickered and faded. He was Tony once more, standing at the counter. He saw the woman deceased, fallen backward away from an open safe. He assumed she must be the owner, Susan. Next to her was a plumbing torch with a faded label:

“Susan’s Beloved Torch, Marlene.”

Tony bowed his head and stood there silent for a moment. As he surveyed the diner, he saw several patrons still seated at their booths, and one waitress propped against the side wall. The booth Trevor Murphy had once occupied, now sat an elderly couple. Tony noticed his car keys on the counter and grabbed them. He returned to his car and noticed several abandoned vehicles. Once safely back in, he started the engine.

“Can you hear me?” He called, uncertain.

His phone chimed with a text from an unknown number. All it said was, “Yes.”

“What happened here? Can I ask who is leading me?”

There were bubbles on his phone, indicating the other end was typing. After a moment, he got a reply.

“I do not know. We had no warning. My name was Raymond Young. I was the senior advisor to Mayor Henston.”

“I'm sorry for how I've acted, I had no idea this town even existed. Does anyone besides me know about these people?”

More typing.

“Based on your reaction and the general state of our town, I’d say no.”

“Where do I go next?”

“3 stops remain. Go to the community center.”

“Lead the way.”

His GPS started giving him more directions. As he drove, he entered the heart of town. The device directed him through the residential area.

He passed decaying old homes, their yards overgrown. There was an abandoned car that had crashed into a tree. Tony thought he saw what remained of a bicycle under the front end.

Once he arrived at the community center, he parked and shut off the engine. His keys vanished and he got out and walked to the entrance. Once he arrived, the colors changed and he was once again in the past, at least visually. He wasn’t sure if he actually was or if it was a vision. Nor did he care.

As he stepped in, he heard roller skates and looked around before heading inside. Again, his, or at least the person he was viewing’s, legs guided him through the building. He passed a roller skating area, a door labeled “Squash Racquet Court, 11 AM to 5 PM. Appointment Only.”, and the gym.

He finally entered a small bakery and got a couple cookies and a coffee.

The little old lady behind the counter handed him his stuff.

“Enjoy. Thank you,” she said smiling.

As he sat down in a small seating area, a clock struck 10. He looked around, listening to the noises of people enjoying themselves. He was wearing a uniform from “Joe’s Boiler Works”, his nametag read ‘Kevin’.

After a few minutes, he checked his watch and quickly stood before heading towards the exit. His vision flickered once more and there he stood in the crumbling building, dead bodies littered the floor, the once joyful lively rollerblading rink now had a caved-in ceiling, and dead people everywhere, still in their skates. The sounds of dripping water echoed through the building. As he turned, he saw his keys on the table where Kevin sat earlier. Now, there was a man and woman. The woman was crumpled on the floor holding an open box containing a ring, the male facing her. His eyes welled up with tears.

What happened to Demann? He thought as he grabbed his keys and returned to his car.

His phone showed the next location. As he drove to Demann High School, he thought about what he had seen. He had to tell someone, but who? How?

Finally, he pulled into the parking lot and found a spot near an abandoned station wagon. Tony parked and watched as his keys vanished. He got out and headed inside. As he passed the main office, everything returned to its former glory. He was now a teenager. A bell echoed through the halls and he walked to room 109 before taking a seat. As he looked around, he saw other students and a name on the board, ‘Pearson’. He unpacked his bag and pulled out a battered notebook, and a pencil. The teacher entered and set down a stack of papers.

“Sorry I’m late, class. The copier was having a mental breakdown. But, aren’t we all?”

The class chuckled. After sitting for a while as she taught history, the bell rang and everyone stood.

“Don’t forget! No homework, but the test is on Thursday. Please study, I know you can do…!”

She gasped and collapsed to the floor. As everyone stared in concern, everything went black and he stood by the main office, Tony again. He noticed several students, likely dead. It never smelled like decay, just musty. He realized he was holding his keys and left the building before getting in the car.

His GPS guided him to the town square. He parked along the curb, near several abandoned cars, a few had their doors open, and others had crashed.

As Tony got out, his keys vanished. He walked into the park. Then the bell of the clock tower nearby tolled. It played the Westminster Chime, then chimed 11 times, as he watched, birds sat in midair, mid-flap. As he watched, they began flying backward. The clock began doing the same, the hands grew faster, the sun began moving as well. As he stood there, the town around him began to show signs that it was repairing itself, as he watched, snow unmelted and went back up, and leaves rejoined the trees. Another summer passed, another spring, another winter, another year. It eventually stopped back at noon and the clock tolled 12 again. People roamed around. A radio played the news. He was free to wander now. Though, no one seemed to notice him. As he wandered, he suddenly saw a bright flash of light over the trees in the distance. As it approached, he saw several people slump over. A car crashed into a pole. Someone down the block ran, only to collapse like the rest.

Tony finally understood as he realized he was back in his car.

“What is in the woods outside of Demann?” He finally asked as he pieced everything together.

“Not much, a radio station and a laboratory doing vaccine testing.” Came the reply from Raymond.

After alerting the authorities about the mass grave, he continued on his way. He couldn’t stop thinking though, so once he was done visiting, he did some digging. To his surprise, he found almost nothing. No records. Just a small map, and several expertly missing pages. It was like it had been erased from history.