Southern Snowstorm

Written for Snowpocalypse 2014. (One of them, anyway.)

Storage time remaining: 6.5 hours

Hi. I’m recordin’ this message ’cause I might not survive the night. This all started ’round noon today. I was down at the Piggly Wiggly to pick up a box of Twinkies and a buy-three-get-one two-liter ‘a RC Cola.

I was in the checkout lane when I heard a ruckus up front. “Looky at that!” So I looked and that’s when I saw it — snow just a-blowin’ everywhere. It was a blizzard!

So I turned my grocery buggy around and dashed toward the dairy case. I knocked a couple people over, but I beat the stampede and made off with four gallons ‘a milk. Then I loaded up my buggy with three dozen eggs and a few loaves ‘a bread.

I was one of the lucky ones — I heard that a man was trampled and an old lady got her dentures knocked out in a scuffle over the last gallon of whole milk. Unfortunately, it took me a half-hour to get back through the checkout lane.

By the time I loaded everything into my pickup truck, the ground was already turnin’ a hoary white. Surely, these was the End Times. I said a prayer for the children at the elementary school next door as I floored it outta the parkin’ lot.

Hang on… traffic’s movin’ again.

Ok, it’s about a quarter past four. The snow is still blowin’ everywhere. The interstate is crawlin’ — nobody’s doin’ more than 20 MPH, if that. I moved about three carlengths in the past hour. So far I seen at least a dozen people spun out in the ditch, in the median, even in the roadway. I’ve even fishtailed a couple times, and I’m in a pickup truck.

There’s a lotta people stranded out here right now, and — holy–

Some buttmunch in a BMW with Massachusetts plates spun out tryin’a pass and sideswiped me. Huge dent in the side of the truck. His little car crumpled. Then he slipped on the ice when he got out to swap insurance information. Dumb Yankee — should’a waited for me to come to him. At least my workboots have some traction.

Called star-H-P, but highway patrol says they’re only respondin’ to injury accidents. I offered to whup the guy’s butt if it would help get HP out here, but the dispatcher just laughed.

Traffic’s pretty backed up behind me. I got about a quarter tank ‘a gas, but it’s getting pretty cold outside. The other guy is just sittin’ in his wrecked BMW, yakkin’ on his phone.

Five thirty. Traffic is still bad. There’s at least two inches of snow on the highway. No sign of any emergency vehicles, other than a firetruck that came through. Car fire farther on over the hill — I could see black smoke through the snow.

I just ate the last Twinkie and finished one of my gallons of milk. Luckily, I’m well stocked, so I should be able to hold out until a wrecker can get here, and — ugh. What do you want?

So… here with me I have Yancey — that’s the driver of the BMW. He’s run out of gas, so I let him into my pickup to keep warm. There’s a good three or four inches ‘a snow on the highway.

Yancey tells me that this doesn’t compare to the snowfall they get up north. He doesn’t see why the roads aren’t cleared, or why people aren’t able to drive. Hey — who said you could eat my bread?!

I have to be quiet ’cause Yancey is asleep. He’s listenin’ to music on his iPhone through earbuds, but still…

The weather’s getting worse. I let Yancey eat one loaf ‘a bread and wash it down with some RC Cola. If this lasts much longer, though, I’ll have to kick him out. I can’t let him eat all of my supplies.

It’s been dark for awhile. I saw a highway patrol car pass by about an hour ago with his lights flashin’, but he passed right by us. Respondin’ to another call, I s’pose.

The truck is still idling, but the gas gauge needle is leanin’ on empty. I hope someone gets us out soon.

Freezing. I’m in the woods somewhere near exit 278. At first I thought I could cut through the woods to find a shopping center, but… the snow is blowing everywhere, and my flashlight batteries are almost dead.

I soaked the truck in gasoline from a gas can I had in the bed, then set it alight. I had to — it was the only way to get rid of the evidence.

I must ‘a dozed off for a few minutes. When I woke up, Yancey was into my bread and milk supplies again. We got into an argument, and… next thing I know, I’m holding a tire iron, and he’s sprawled out bleedin’ all over my passenger window.

Freezing. Gotta be a house around here. So cold. So hungry. Must still be close to the pickup. I can smell the smoke. Smells like barbecue…

I hear sirens. Think I see blue lights through the trees. The emergency crews are finally here. Thank God!



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