Nowhere

"Where the hell am I?", the man said as he found himself an a deserted road in the middle of the night

The truck had stalled out completely right there. No power. Nothing.

Ted reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell.

Dead.

"Oh, crap!" He leaned to his right and opened the glove box and cursed again as the pile of maps from inside burst out dropped all over the cab floor. The heavy flashlight still rested inside so he grabbed it and found that it worked properly.

He grabbed some of the maps and positioned them in front of him as best he could and scanned them with his flashlight.

"Okay. I was on highway 201...I remember that....", he said tracing his finger along the map.

"I was going to Preacher's Mill"

As sweat started to form on his forehead, Ted rolled down the window of his truck to let some air inside, then went back to studying the map. Then he paused for a moment...listening.

No wind. No crickets. Just an silence broken only by his own silence. He frowned and opened the driver side door, the sound of rusted hinges piercing silence.

Ted shivered, his sweat turning cold as it slid down his back. He walked slowly along the road, gravel bouncing along the pavement, clittering to the side.

He turned around searching the area with his flashlight, yet seeing nothing except the empty road, the clustered tree line on either side and the old man that was standing in the middle of the road.

"What!?!" Ted's heart beat out of his chest, then shook his head.

"Oh, thank God.", Ted breathed. "Sorry, I didn't see you standing there, sir."

He approached the man slowly. He was wearing a red plaid shirt and denim cover alls and small cap. "I could use some help. My truck is dead and I'm lost, big time."

No response. Nothing at all. Ted looked the old man over from head to toe. The old man didn't move a muscle at all, yet his left leg raised behind him, and his right arm was raised. His torso was leaning forward.

"Sir?", Ted whispered, moving closer and reaching out to touch the old man. He felt the shoulder and arm.

"What the hell? A mannaquin?" He walked around the figure, shaking his head. "A mannaquin in the middle of the road in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere?"

Ted ran his left hand through his hair.

"This is too weird for me," Ted whispered, heading back to his truck. He got back inside the cab tried the engine again.

Nothing.

Again, he tried.. nothing..

He banged his fist on the wheel. "What else can go wrong?", he shouted to the universe and anyone else who would listen.

He got back out of the truck and shut the door with a solid kick. Shaking his head again, Ted started walking forward on the road hoping to find a house or something where he could find some help.

Had he looked backwards, he might have noticed that old man's head had turned towards him.

The silence persisted as Ted walked along the empty road, darkness only broken by Ted's flashlight, and even that light too, was waning.

After a half an hour's walk, Ted found himself in front of a railroad crossing with an train stopped right next to it.

"Well that's something anyway." He knocked on the train a few times. "Hello? Anybody in there"

Again, dead silence.

He walked across the tracks, flashlight scanning the surface of the train, The markings didn't really tell him anything and there was no movement around the train at all.

His heart quickened as he saw a small town ahead of him, it's street lights tantalizing him with salvation.

"Wonderful! A phone or something. That could be helpful!"

He managed to find the energy to sprint into the little town. It was mostly downhill from the railroad tracks.

When he got to the bottom of the hill, he looked around and found the sheriff's office and an old payphone close by.

He made for the phone and put some quarters in the slot, grateful to have found something that might work.

Nothing. No dial tone, no static. Zero.

He sighed again and leaned against the side of the booth and looked to his right and saw the sheriff's office and there appeared to be someone inside.

He left the booth and went to the office door and knocked. The door opened with a slow creak. Ted stepped through the entrance, unsure of what he would find.

The office was old fashioned. The main wall by the windows was lined with empty wooden chairs and the large counter separated the waiting room from the rows of desks behind it.

"Hello?", he called again.

Nothing...No sound, no movement

Ted moved behind the counter and walked around the rows of desks, touching each one, feeling the plastic surface.

"Weird", he said. He grabbed a phone on one of the desks and tried to dial out, but stopped when he noticed that it was not connected to anything.

"Hunh. Fake phones? No people? What the hell is this place? I wonder if the cemetary is any livelier than this"

He walked back to the waiting area and froze as he looked out the window. Still in the same frozen, running position was the old mannequin from the road. Somehow, he had moved to the little town.

"How?!", Ted whispered to himself. He opened the door and left the sheriff's office and walked towards the old man- nequin. It looked exactly the same in every detail.

"This has got to be some kinda joke!"

He touched the mannequin again briefly before turning back to explore the rest of the little town. As he started to move, he felt a tug, pulling him back. His breathing quickened and he tried to scream but his voice was as silent as the little town.

Suddenly, he was back in the phone booth, frozen in place with his right hand reaching for the receiver.

Some two miles away, the old man climbed into the little truck, which started up beautifully.