The Town That Waited for Me

The GPS on my phone didn’t show the town.

That was the first clue I should have picked up.

The second was the sign placed by the roadside.

WELCOME BACK, ADAM.

I almost stopped the delivery truck in the middle of the deserted highway. I was Adam Price, and I had worked for NorthLine Delivery Company for six years. In all those years, I had seen many odd signs in many tiny towns, but never one with my name on it.

The phone screen was filled with gray roads and dark woods. No town, no streets, no buildings. Just me and my blue dot floating in an endless nothingness.

“Great,” I muttered. “Just great.”

It was raining, and according to my schedule, my final task was a delivery to a farmhouse outside Miller’s Ridge. I had decided to take the back road because the highway was closed off.

And now I was here.

In this town.

There were lights at the end of the road, and even more lights farther ahead. Soon, I drove into the town and saw dozens of small houses lining both sides of the road. All the porches, windows, and yards were lit, but there were no cars moving, no dogs barking, and no people walking around.

In the middle of the town was a small diner marked with red neon lettering: OPEN.

I parked the truck near the diner.

As soon as I stepped out, all the lights inside started to flicker.

The woman standing behind the counter was about fifty years old, with silver hair tucked behind her ears. She smiled without waiting for me to say anything.

“You’re late, Adam.”

“What?”

“Welcome back.”

“Am I supposed to know you?” I asked.

“Coffee?”

“I’m only looking for Route 16,” I explained. “I got lost.”

“You can’t get turned around in this town.” She poured some coffee into a chipped mug. “No one is late or early here. People always arrive at the exact minute they are supposed to.”

I forced myself to smile. “Yeah, right.”

“The only delivery we’ll see tonight,” she murmured.

I couldn’t believe it when she started talking about the package sitting on the passenger seat of my delivery truck, which I hadn’t mentioned a second ago.

The rain sounded louder.

“What kind of town is this, anyway?” I asked.

She frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m trying to figure out why you know me. And how.”

“It’s been almost eighteen years since you disappeared.”

Before I could reply, the doorbell jingled.

A man dressed in a dark coat and muddy shoes stepped inside. He seemed to be about eighty years old. When he saw me, he nodded.

“Evening, Adam.”

I took a step back. “You people know my name too?”

Still no answer.

I quickly ran out of the diner and found my truck locked. There was no response from the key, either. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up.

NO SIGNAL.

And then all the streetlights started to go out.

Not at once.

Slowly, starting with the farthest ones.

I walked down the road and noticed a board placed next to the diner. There were flyers about church dinners, lost pets, and other town affairs, all marked with dates I didn’t recognize.

Then I spotted a photo of me.

I studied the flyer carefully and realized it was me. Not a look-alike or somebody similar.

Me as a kid.

As a little child.

I felt dizzy.

Every light behind me started to fade.

The woman came out of the diner.

“They waited for you,” she said softly.

“No,” I whispered. “I grew up in Lancaster. My parents…”

“They found you lying on a highway and took you in,” she explained. “Loved you. Raised you. But they weren’t the first.”

I heard movement coming from the truck.

The package started to make thumping sounds.

I looked up at the woman. “What’s in that package?”

She frowned. “Your memory.”

Suddenly, the lock opened.

I didn’t want to open the package, but my hands were beyond my control.

Inside was a little wooden box tied with a piece of red thread. It contained a faded photograph of a boy holding the hand of a young woman standing beside him. Underneath the photo were these words:

Come home before dark.

The bell rang somewhere beyond the town.

People started to walk through the streets, stepping out from yards, houses, shops, and alleys.

Silent and watchful.

And I suddenly remembered everything.

The diner. The lady with the gray hair. The warning. And the thing lurking in the woods with my father’s face, promising to take me somewhere.

I looked down the road leading out of town.

The trees surrounding the town looked closer than ever. The highway wasn’t there anymore.

I was trapped.

The woman patted me on the shoulder.

“We waited a long time,” she said.

I looked at her face and realized…

“Mom?” I whispered.

She smiled.

The whole town was in darkness except for the sign above the diner’s entrance.

OPEN.

From behind me, the forest spoke with the voice of my father.

“Adam, get in the truck.”

But this time, I didn’t.