No Straight Roads 2 Novels & Stories

He rushed downstairs and suddenly threw himself toward Amanda, who was holding the long straw, pretending to fall. And in that instant, the straw snapped completely in half.

I have to talk to dad regarding the car, allowance like I need it for something. Looking around the town, Rowena is really boring. On the route I am going I can see some bakeries, coffeehouses, restaurants, people running somewhere, I wonder if this town has an elite area, and where it is. I am standing in front of Rowena Highschool, my only goal today is not to kill anyone and just to stay as invisible as I can, see how things work, and step aside. I just want to finish this and see what the hell I am going to do with my life later. Entering the school I asked the guard where the principal's office was and started walking that way. The school does not look that bad, it looks poor but I gues

It was represented by a knot of tangled, blackened wire, so dense it looked like a scar. “This is what we know,” the Forgemaster said, her finger tracing a thin, red thread that led from the Rust Plains towards the black knot. “This is the Iron Road. It is the only supply route to the Citadel. Everything they need, food, raw materials, new… recruits… travels this road. It is heavily guarded.” “So we avoid the road,” Ronan said. “There is no other way,” Corvus said, speaking for the first time since they’d entered. “The lands around are the Blasted Fields. The earth is poisoned from their old industry. Nothing grows. Nothing lives. It is a killing ground. The road is the only path.”

The sun, relentless and unforgiving, beat down on the dusty path leading from the servants’ quarters to the main house. I was ten, and the path was etched into my memory, every pebble, every crack. It was a route I knew intimately, yet one I was rarely allowed to fully explore. My world was largely confined to the small, neat rooms behind the imposing mansion, a world of hushed conversations and the ever-present scent of cleaning products and warm food.

“Rotation rate is increasing. Oberon, this is going to produce.” “Yes,” he said. He was entirely calm. “Where are we on escape routes?” She pulled up the road network. “East on County Road 24 gives you south to Highway 4 if it tracks northeast,” she said. “If it jogs east you stay on 24.” “Copy,” he said. He positioned the truck on a rise that gave clear sightlines in three directions, the wall cloud visible to their northwest, and she split her attention between the screen and the sky.

I got off the bike and walked toward the squirrel, concerned that he was hurt, but he immediately dashes off when he noticed my presence nearing him. I sighed. I hope he's not injured. Scanning the area, there is only a one-way road. The green palm trees surrounding the paved road give a nature lover peace of mind and heart. This is so relaxing but wondering why there is only a forest in here. Where's the blue ocean? Where are Marcus and his employees? Should I follow the road? I start pedaling while following the road until it reaches the two split roads. Where should I go? Left or right?

"Propiedad privada." “Wait—what?” Nevena blinked, her brows knitting. “Private property,” he repeated, slower this time, but still in Spanish. From the back seat, Junior piped up—glancing past the windshield. The road stretched in perfect symmetry—lined with palm hedges and sculpted trees. The asphalt was dark and smooth like it had never known a pothole. Nevena looked out again. The road looked normal. No fence. No guards. Just silence and manicured hedges—like a painting.

“And... I saved the best for last. We’re gonna go to the south side of town to the cemetery. We’re gonna shove some headstones, maybe even find some headstones of people we hate. They’ll have to go all over the graveyard and set’em back up!” “Oh yeah, on the other side of the four-lane highway... State Road 32.” “That’s the one buddy. We’ll call it a night afterward.” So, the boys rode off into the darkness of the narrow neighborhood streets, looking to egg the nicest cars. They didn’t want to ‘waste’ their eggs on junky, dirty cars. For each of their dirty tricks, they picked a different neighborhood, so few of them remained unscathed.

Edenwood’s silence was one of them. Spiro eventually lifted one hand and pointed down a narrower road half-hidden by broken branches. “Turn there,” Spiro instructed. Ronan obeyed. The van groaned over uneven ground. The road was barely a road now, more of a path used by patrols before the world ended. Branches scraped the side of the van. Smoke thickened again, not fresh enough to choke, but heavy enough to sting my eyes.

The road stretching north. Empty.