survived this demon-loosed night.
And then we were in Cedar Rapids.
The fog wasn't so thick here. The deeper we got into the city, heading east on First Avenue, the newer the buildings became, the urban-renewal monster gradually getting everything that wouldn't look good in a four-color brochure. A previous mayor had been obsessed with turning the downtown into a business area, and you could see the results of his handiwork now. What had once been wide open streets had now been narrowed and boutiqued, as if everything on each block were of a single piece. There was a certain obstinate pride about it all.
Rhodes didn't even slow down much through the downtown area.
His speed picked up again around Ninth Street, where the magic of downtown was lost on old and weary buildings that the urban-renewal monster probably dreamt of at night.
By the time he reached Coe College, he was rolling again. He was apparently one of those people who feel that adherence to speed limits is an infringement of all those God-given rights we like to talk about when we've been caught breaking the law.
By Nineteenth Street, the fog snakes had started whispering and winding through the air again. Houses were lost behind the coiling gray reptiles and an unnerving silence had descended on everything.
He turned left.
Fog and darkness blinded me momentarily.
He began to drive fast up and down narrow streets. So fast that I wondered if he hadn't maybe spotted me and was now going to humiliate the hell out of me by getting me lost or smashed up.
I cut down to fog-lights, visibility had got so bad.
And then, somehow, we reached a long stretch of open country, several rolling acres of farmland here on the edge of the city.
And then he was gone, vanished utterly inside the fog. Bastard.
All I could do was keep driving, hoping to find the taillights again.
I rounded a sweeping curve, angled up a climbing hill bordered with pine trees that wore the fog like white rags, and then started down an abrupt incline.
At the bottom of which I saw a ghost-image of red taillights. For just a moment — and then it was gone.
I speeded up. I had no choice: I had to find him again.
I drove as sensibly as I could given the conditions.
An oncoming car loomed up out of the fog, its giant headlights obscene in the gloom, glaring at me with great and hungry menace, and then nothing again. Just the fog and him somewhere ahead of me.
I went right past him.
All I got was a glimpse of his car door in the fog and then I was 100 yards down the road.
He'd stopped: I wondered why. Maybe he was hoping I'd go right past him and wouldn't see him. He'd cut his lights. He'd have been awful easy to miss.
There was only one way I could find out. I pulled the rental off to the side of the road, grabbed my flashlight, shut off the ignition, cut the lights and got out.
I was standing on a planet I didn't recognize. Shifting mists and screens of fog cut my visibility down to a few feet.
My footsteps on the muddy gravel of the roadside were loud in the silent gloom. The humidity was oppressive; a cold sweat had started filling my armpits.
Without quite knowing where I was going, following the angle of the road, I walked maybe five minutes until I came to Rhodes' car. I played my light inside. Empty.
Why would he have stopped the car here? If all he'd wanted to do was lose me, he could have simply turned his vehicle around after I passed, and driven back the way he'd come.
But he'd left the car.
More monster sounds; menacing monster eyes. A van was roaring toward me, fog running off its sleek sides like smoke. Gone in moments. Leaving me again to the fog and the silence.
I walked several yards past Rhodes' car and it was there I found it. Narrow asphalt driveway. Rural-style mailbox on a pole.
Was this where Rhodes had gone?
I trained my light on the side of the mailbox, looking for a name. There'd been one once, but it had been crudely covered up with spray
And then we were in Cedar Rapids.
The fog wasn't so thick here. The deeper we got into the city, heading east on First Avenue, the newer the buildings became, the urban-renewal monster gradually getting everything that wouldn't look good in a four-color brochure. A previous mayor had been obsessed with turning the downtown into a business area, and you could see the results of his handiwork now. What had once been wide open streets had now been narrowed and boutiqued, as if everything on each block were of a single piece. There was a certain obstinate pride about it all.
Rhodes didn't even slow down much through the downtown area.
His speed picked up again around Ninth Street, where the magic of downtown was lost on old and weary buildings that the urban-renewal monster probably dreamt of at night.
By the time he reached Coe College, he was rolling again. He was apparently one of those people who feel that adherence to speed limits is an infringement of all those God-given rights we like to talk about when we've been caught breaking the law.
By Nineteenth Street, the fog snakes had started whispering and winding through the air again. Houses were lost behind the coiling gray reptiles and an unnerving silence had descended on everything.
He turned left.
Fog and darkness blinded me momentarily.
He began to drive fast up and down narrow streets. So fast that I wondered if he hadn't maybe spotted me and was now going to humiliate the hell out of me by getting me lost or smashed up.
I cut down to fog-lights, visibility had got so bad.
And then, somehow, we reached a long stretch of open country, several rolling acres of farmland here on the edge of the city.
And then he was gone, vanished utterly inside the fog. Bastard.
All I could do was keep driving, hoping to find the taillights again.
I rounded a sweeping curve, angled up a climbing hill bordered with pine trees that wore the fog like white rags, and then started down an abrupt incline.
At the bottom of which I saw a ghost-image of red taillights. For just a moment — and then it was gone.
I speeded up. I had no choice: I had to find him again.
I drove as sensibly as I could given the conditions.
An oncoming car loomed up out of the fog, its giant headlights obscene in the gloom, glaring at me with great and hungry menace, and then nothing again. Just the fog and him somewhere ahead of me.
I went right past him.
All I got was a glimpse of his car door in the fog and then I was 100 yards down the road.
He'd stopped: I wondered why. Maybe he was hoping I'd go right past him and wouldn't see him. He'd cut his lights. He'd have been awful easy to miss.
There was only one way I could find out. I pulled the rental off to the side of the road, grabbed my flashlight, shut off the ignition, cut the lights and got out.
I was standing on a planet I didn't recognize. Shifting mists and screens of fog cut my visibility down to a few feet.
My footsteps on the muddy gravel of the roadside were loud in the silent gloom. The humidity was oppressive; a cold sweat had started filling my armpits.
Without quite knowing where I was going, following the angle of the road, I walked maybe five minutes until I came to Rhodes' car. I played my light inside. Empty.
Why would he have stopped the car here? If all he'd wanted to do was lose me, he could have simply turned his vehicle around after I passed, and driven back the way he'd come.
But he'd left the car.
More monster sounds; menacing monster eyes. A van was roaring toward me, fog running off its sleek sides like smoke. Gone in moments. Leaving me again to the fog and the silence.
I walked several yards past Rhodes' car and it was there I found it. Narrow asphalt driveway. Rural-style mailbox on a pole.
Was this where Rhodes had gone?
I trained my light on the side of the mailbox, looking for a name. There'd been one once, but it had been crudely covered up with spray
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