This year I am working on a story called Bob vs. The Alien Slug Monsters. Instead of an outline I have a basic list of plot points I want to cover between meeting Bob and sending him off to fight the king of the slugs. There is more of a cast of characters than an actual outline, so we will see how the story develops. And with that intro we continue with Bob Versus the Alien Slug Monsters…
Day 41: Crossing the area was slow going.
Crossing the area was slow going. Rubble was flung about. Large chunks of asphalt were peppered along the path and the sandy underbelly of the road bed was scattered. Bob felt his feet shifting as he walked and knew that he couldn’t afford a twisted ankle. Even as he watched each step he took, Bob couldn’t help but look upwards. Even though the disks that the slug monsters were riding were only elevated a foot or so above the ground, the giant hole in the road appeared to have been made from something elevated.
‘No tilt to it,’ he thought as he carefully picked his way across. ‘Had to be made from above.’ The hole looked like a giant bowling ball had been dropped and formed a hole through the asphalt as it broke through.
‘No ball in the bottom of the hole though,’ he thought.
The basic justification of the hole being made from above made him feel marginally better about casting his eyes skyward as he moved. While it was slow going, it felt like much slower than it actually was and soon enough, Bob reached he other side. Here he was once again able to dart into the woods.
Once safely shielded by roadside trees, Bob sat down to catch his breath. It hadn’t been physically taxing to cross the space, even though he had to be careful, but his heart was pounding and he was more out of breath than the short distance could account for.
He slipped a hand into the bag he carried and touched the container of salt. Feeling it thee gave him some reassurance. ‘It hadn’t helped Lucille,’ he reminded himself. ‘But she didn’t know to just use salt,’ he couldn’t help adding, thinking of he pepper dusting the fallen slug.
After a few moments Bob managed to catch his breath and steady his heart rate. He rose from his seat and as there were no sounds disturbing the area, he was reasonably sure his crossing of the damaged road was not noticed. Bob stuck to the side of the road where the trees and their shadows would offer some concealment. As he walked he tried to piece things together.
‘They repaired the cottages, but didn’t fix the road.’ Bob mused. He wondered if fixing the road was beyond their capabilities or if they would need to send a bigger crew out to do it. ‘Or if they still want the road in operable.’
When he thought about the road and the bridge as well as the lack of cell phone and radio, it felt as though the Slugs wanted Centerville cut off. ‘Except that they tidied the cottages.’
To Bob that didn’t seem to fit. ‘Why bother tidying the cottages if you are going to leave the road and bridge out?’
He had no answer to the question and so Bob shifted to the lack of communication. How long could all cell phones in Centerville be out before someone noticed?
‘It is a Saturday,’ he thought. ‘So a lot of businesses are closed.’
Bob skirted around a fallen tree. It looked like it had been down a while and that someone had taken it from the road and rolled it to the side. He remembered the storm a few weeks back and the downed trees reported. The cut marks on the tree seemed to fit with the time of the storm and Bob assumed the road crews took the tree down rather than the slugs. The sight of it made him think of official offices and departments.
Come Monday, the lack of contact was sure to be noticed.
Ten til Midnight 