Something is seriously not right with the world. I headed into Wellington first thing this morning and the place is a ghost town. I mean the place only had about 800 people to start with, but they are all gone. The card reader at the unmanned MFA gas pumps wasn't working, but fortunately the old-style pumps at the Sni Mini Mart were still going. I filled up the truck and picked up some food and water. It felt wrong just taking the stuff, so I put enough cash to cover it behind the counter with a note.
I might have messed up with my next move, but I hope not. Without the vantage point of the river bluff, I couldn't see the Interstate anymore. I decided to head south and have a closer look at things. I had to drive most of the way to Odessa before I could get a clear view of the highway. I parked and climbed a small hill wear I could use my binoculars and scan for signs of life.
What I saw instead was carnage. There is some sort of shopping center just off the interstate and it was in shambles. It looked like the front window of the grocery store had been smashed and another section was burned out.
On the highway itself, there were parked cars, but others looked like they had been through a war. They were peppered with bullet holes and charred. While I was taking all this in, I was almost startled to see a car coming from the west.
Looking through the binoculars, I could see that it was a newer model Mustang and it was going very, very fast. A short distance behind it was a Highway Patrol cruiser. Bringing up the rear was a military style Humvee.
The idea of a police chase on a deserted highway seemed almost comical to me. The fact that the Mustang appeared to be pulling away from his pursuers made it even more humorous to me. I was about to head back to my truck when I heard the sound of an approaching helicopter. I scrambled for what cover I could find and watched in shock as the chopper moved on an path to intercept the speeding car.
Once it was in position, the helicopter opened fire, spraying a stream of bullets into the car. Apparently frightened or injured, the driver lost control and the Mustang spun into the median where it struck the line of safety cables and went into a flipping tumble, turning end over end at least five times.
I was surprised that when the patrol car caught up to the seen it was two uniformed soldiers and not a police officer who stepped out. The soldiers approached the car with the rifles raised and upon seeing movement inside, opened fire.
I took that as my cue to get the hell out of there. I crawled down from the hill sprinted to my truck and headed back the way I had come. It was with a feeling of sinking dread that I noticed the chopper in my rear view mirror.
I cut quickly off the highway and onto the first gravel road I could find. A few moments later I was parked under a canopy of oak trees, praying to God that I wouldn't be seen. I guess all those Sundays weren't wasted, because after a few passes, the chopper veered off and I didn't see it again.
With the coast clear, I headed back to my cabin, taking the long way round to get here. I'm pretty sure I made it back clean, but I have heard the helicopters a few times this evening. I don't know if the Mustang man was wanted for something or if the military is taking a shoot first, shoot some more later approach to things. Either way, I won't be going back to the highway any time soon.
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