The Road Novels & Stories

“Still not great.” I came further into the room. “There’s something I need to tell you.” She waited. “My guys found a road today. It’s in the southern boundary, past the ridge. Hasn’t been used in at least five years. We’re going out tonight to take a look.” Something changed in her face. Not surprise exactly, it was more like recognition. “The road of thorns,” she said. I went still. “What did you just say?” “That’s what it’s called.” She said it simply, like she was telling me the sky was grey. “That’s what people who actually knew it called it. The thorns grow over the markers in the wet season. They come back every year.”

Else it would be another area with red marks in my GPS. Sasha Vale is good at making this road exist in the secret society. I mean, who would've thought that an ex-convict like her will make this traffic-free route that even the government of this country wouldn't know? Well, maybe because everyone fears the slumps. Who in the world would drive to the recessions anyway? Perhaps criminals and public volunteers. Then there's only a 1% chance that this road will be discovered. "Are we there yet?" I remove my eyes from the road and look at Marco, who just woke up from his slumber.

What they had planned for was 5 roads but it was 6. “Alright l think we should just all move in, just as we had planned. We will see where this road leads” Lowell ordered. Just as they were about to mount the horse, Rudina noticed something. “Stop!” she said. Then she walked to the road. She bent and examined the road. There were foot prints on all but one. And on the one that had no foot print, the sand looked like it had been disturbed or rather not so smooth. She knew in that moment, that was the road they would follow.

The bustling city is filled with smells and sounds that I had forgotten during the treacherous journey. The thousands of colours that paint my diverse kingdom and the equally diverse people who bring it to life and give it meaning. The ones who give me meaning. There are five main roads that point in the direction of each of our neighboring countries, a sign of peace amongst us, but the Pasiphaen route had been empty since the day of the massacre.

’ ‘It doesn’t sound great, or look great, but it’s actually pretty solid,’ he says, also in the mind-link. ‘Are we going the right way?’ I ask. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Eustace says this old road hits Highway 30, and that heads straight to Kane’s territory.’ I look forward at the road we’re on, or at least what’s left of it. Decades of neglect and Mother Nature’s attempts to reclaim it are showing with the wide cracks and overgrowth. In some places, I can barely see the road since it looks like a pile of weeds. ‘This is an old road all right,’ I say.

She suddenly looked up at the giant screen. "Mason!" she cried out, her voice trembling. Then she drove away at full speed. No one dared stop the car. Joanna pressed the gas to the floor and reached the studio as fast as she could. By then, the studio had already been surrounded by police. Joanna tried to rush inside but was stopped. "Ma'am, this is the scene of a death. You cannot enter." Joanna was about to lose her temper, but one sentence from the housekeeper drenched her in ice.

His legs felt like jelly. Cale stood over him, scanning the road. He looked North, then South. His head jerked back and forth, confused. "Which way?" Cale asked. "Left or right? Where does this road go?" "It... it goes to town," Elion wheezed, pointing right. "I recognize the mile marker. Route 9." "Is that good? Is 'town' safe?" "Town has people," Elion said, forcing himself to stand. "Witnesses. Variables. Mr. Grey hates variables."

It felt good, but smelling the trees and other vegetation was worth the slight chill. Z laughed. “You look like a puppy out for her first car ride.” “This road must be beautiful,” she said. “Nothing ugly could ever smell this good.” Again, he laughed. “It is a small, two-lane road edged by evergreens and rocky cliffs. It is the back route to where I’m taking you—a road less traveled, though it adds a bit of time to our trip.” “I’m in no hurry,” she said, taking in the fresh scents and crisp air

The drive takes longer than it should, even though I leave before the sun fully clears the trees. The road is narrow and poorly maintained, the kind of stretch that never shows up on official maps but still carries more history than most borders. The engine hums steadily beneath my hands, a low vibration that settles into my bones. I keep both hands tight on the wheel, knuckles pale, posture rigid. Not because I’m nervous. Because staying loose gets people killed.

But somehow, hearing it from Leif—she did. Just then, the road ahead suddenly split in two. A perfectly good highway suddenly branched off. Raina hit the brakes sharply, and the car came to a halt by the roadside. ‘When did they build a new road here?’ What a terrible start—barely onto the national road and they run into this kind of problem. Leif, unable to see, felt the sudden stop. He turned toward Raina and asked, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” ***