Legion Road

Amara was covered in filth. Her bodily fluids soaked her clothes. Her phone was dead, her car left behind, and she had on one shoe that was so thin it had started to flap. The only way she could keep up with the passing of time was by trying to keep count of the sun rising and setting each day. 

‘52.5 days,” she thought. 52 sunrises, 51 sunsets, and counting. And every day, as the sky darkens, Amara relives the moments that put her here…

Amara was always a reckless driver. The speeding tickets and traffic violations did nothing to slow her down. She was forced to take classes, had to pay higher insurance, and eventually her license was suspended, yet she was still on the road.

This time her motive was different. This time she was speeding for a good cause. She received a call from her elderly grandmother shortly after the sun went down. The older woman had fallen and hurt herself, and unable to afford the ambulance fees called numbers saved in her phone until someone answered. 

With a valid excuse to drive, Amara dawned her shoes, and coat, grabbed her keys and phone, and sprinted to her car. And as her car ripped out of the parking lot of her apartment complex, the girl wasn’t even sure she had locked her front door. She didn’t think to turn around, her grandmother was more important than anything that could have been stolen from her. 

Her grandmother was in the front of her mind as she ran stop signs, barely glancing to check for other vehicles. She missed the car filled with teens that she caused to veer off the road, distracted by the sound of their horn blaring. 

Amara cracked her windows, letting in a breeze to cool the unusually warm car. Her long hair blew slightly as she hit a curb amid a turn. She continued to pick up speed, turning onto a back road. The woman had been warned not to come this way, while the route was shorter her family told tales of strange events happening on Legion Rd. 

The vivid image of her grandmother, lying on the ground, body probably contorted was what she saw in the red of every stop light she passed. But Amara finally stopped, the image of her grandmother replaced with that of a broken child, as a small shadowy shape crawled in front of her vehicle. 

Slamming on the brakes, control was lost of the sedan, and she jerked off the road and into the direct path of a tree. Amara braced herself, body tensing, eyes clenching for an impact that never came. 

A scream escaped her, and her eyes slowly blinked open when she felt no pain. Amara began to slowly creep down Legion Road, the only lights visible were the car’s headlights and small twinkling lights dancing around apple and pomegranate trees. She took a few breaths to calm herself, ‘maybe it was just a vivid daydream.’ Her window was still cracked and she could sense something strange in the air now that her heartbeat had returned to normal. She noticed a faint sulfuric smell with every breath she took.

Amara tried to laugh off her nerves and pressed down on the gas pedal. The car revved, only to stay at the same speed. She glanced at the speedometer and it read 7 miles per hour. She pressed down harder, stomping her foot into the gas pedal, but it still barely inched down the road at the same speed. 

“God damn it!” Amara began to cry, she began to feel around for her phone but never took her eyes off the road. She knew she needed to call her grandmother and tell her to call someone else for help. Searching fingertips skimmed over her phone case, and she quickly grasped it.

Pulling the device into her line of sight she noticed her screen was shattered, and no matter what she did it would not turn on.

The sounds of her crying grew louder as she frantically attempted to get the car to speed up. “Please,” she whined, “I’ll do anything just fucking go faster!”

The car accelerated to 13 miles per hour. “Thank God,” she whispered. Maybe if she kept it up the car would go faster. She heard the sound of leaves moving and looked to the side quickly. She squinted confused, the trees seemed to be shaking in a nonexistent breeze. It was almost as if they were laughing at her.

Her foot eased off the gas, and the vehicle picked up to 18 mph. She looked down, moving her leg to the side and removing her foot. The pedal remained down in the same position, at the same speed, and snatched her hands from the steering wheel and gripped the seat. She had no control here. The trees shook harder, and she held the scream she wanted to let out inside.

Amara watched the clock on her dash, realizing that the minutes weren’t moving even if it felt like she was in the car for hours. The sky became darker, she knew it was getting later. As more time passed, and adrenaline wore off, Amara grew tired and began to blink sleepy. Despite her fear, she dozed off. As soon as her breathing began to even, the can slammed to a halt, and the driver-side door flew open. 

The woman startled awake at the sound of her door opening violently. Her head jerked from side to side, glancing quickly to see if someone was there, only to find no one. She slowly reached out to pull the door but it was jammed, not budging as she tugged.

Amara groaned, ‘Maybe they were right about Legion Road.’

She tiredly stood from the car, stretching, and looked ahead. By this point, she should have been closer to the end of the road, closer to her grandmother. So grabbed her coat, keys, and purse, after shoving her phone inside. She slammed the car door, and quickly began to walk away. 

She hadn’t walked for long when she noticed the sun began to rise. At least she’d get a good view of a sunrise out of this horrible ordeal. It was her favorite time of day after all, never feeling completely comfortable in the dark of night.

Once the sun was fully in the sky, Amara was out of her memory. She was still covered in filth, soaked in her own fluids, and still moving ahead. Luckily the trees never seemed to run out of the most delicious tasting fruits. But each step she took was heavy with the lack of sleep. She was practically dragging herself down the road. Whenever she would try to stop to rest or nap, she would have the intense urge to keep moving and the weather would change quickly until she moved again. 

She used to fight it, thinking maybe this was a bad dream or she had hit her head hard enough in the crash to put herself in a coma. But something else came with the rising of the sun. The voice of her Grandmother would echo loudly in her head. She said the same phrase that Amara had heard said easily by so many people before. Her grandmother would sigh, and say “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” If only she knew how true that was.

‘53 days.’ Amara kicked off her shoe and stepped on the too-hot ground as she lost her sole.