"Exit 119"
"EXIT 119"
"Hey honey I just wanted to try you again and give you an update, I guess I'll just try again a little later," Cole Roth says.
Inside of a highway oasis restaurant Roth, a young traveling salesman, sits at the counter of a small family diner talking on his cell phone. A bad cluster of thunderstorms has rolled through the area forcing the man off the road and into the rest stop just off highway exit 119.
An elderly waitress comes over to re-fill Roth's empty coffee cup. He nods and politely says thank you as she pours the boiling hot liquid. A handful of spread-out patrons liter the small diner, each minding their own business.
"Man this storm really came out of no-where huh?," Roth says to another elderly gentleman sitting at the end of the counter.
"I got to get going soon," the elderly man says. "Can't stay here to long. I've got to get going."
Puzzled and slightly concerned about the manner in which the elderly man spoke, Roth turns back to the waitress who is still standing in front of him.
"Is he okay," Roth asks.
"Ya he has just been here longer than he thought he would be," the waitress says.
"What do you mean," Roth ponders.
Just before the waitress can explain herself the phone next to the kitchen door rings and she leaves the conversation to answer the call. Roth shrugs off the odd statement and returns his attention to his coffee.
Fifteen minutes pass by as the storm outside of the diner continues. Roth finally decides that he is going to try to drive through the storm and get home to his wife. He has been on the road for close to a month now.
"Thanks for the coffee," Roth says as he stands up and lays a few dollar bills down on the counter.
As Roth makes his way towards the doors to head to his car in the parking lot, when suddenly the local sheriff burst through the entrance stopping Roth in his tracks.
"Sorry no-body is going anywhere right now," the sheriff states.
"It's okay I think I'm just going to drive through it," Roth claims.
"Sorry sir I can't let you leave, nothing personal I'm just doing my job," the sheriff says.
Before Roth can make his way out of the diner the sheriff takes out a set of keys and locks the front doors. Reluctantly, Roth abides by the sheriff's orders and is content to wait out the storm for a little while longer.
"Well if I have to stay do you mind letting me know when I can hit the road?," Roth asks.
"You can go when it's time to go," the sheriff barks.
"Ha, alright," Roth dismisses.
Roth heads back to his seat at the counter and asks for a menu with another cup of coffee. He orders a cheese burger and fries as he figures that he might as well enjoy a hot meal while he waits for the all clear to head back on his trip home.
Another fifteen minutes go by.
"How was it?," the waitress asks taking the empty plate from in front of Roth.
"Perfect, thank you very much," Roth praises. "Hey I've been meaning to ask you, how long have you been working here. My mom is getting towards your age and it's just nice to see someone like herself still as independent as you are."
"Oh its been around three or four years now," the waitress says. "It is definitely better than just waiting around doing nothing like most of these other people."
"Ya, I think know what you mean," Roth states.
"I don't think you do," the waitress says walking back to the kitchen with the plate.
Roth seems put off and offended by the way the waitress ended the conversation and turns to the sheriff to start another.
"Is everyone here kind of rude?," Roth asks the sheriff.
"Everyone deals with being here in their own way, it's best just to keep to yourself while you are here," the sheriff says. "Just like you, were not all here by our own choice."
Roth takes the advice of the sheriff and keeps to himself. He pulls out his cell-phone and looks to see if his wife has left him a message, but when he looks at his phone he notices that he has lost the signal he had from earlier. Roth begins to wander around the diner starring at his phone, holding it up to the ceiling, desperately trying to find a few bars to call his wife.
"God damn it!," Roth yells.
"You aren't going to find a signal here," a patron sitting in a corner booth says. "You might as well just sit down and wait like the rest of us."
"Thanks but I think I will just keep trying, my wife has a tendency to worry," Roth bickered.
"Nothing really left to worry about don't you think?," the man says.
"Okay am I missing something or is everyone just trying to be super cryptic with everything they say," Roth chides.
"I just think that they are trying to ease your mind, not everyone handles being cooped up in here so well," the man explains.
"I'm fine, as soon as I can get back on the road and get home I'll be even better," Roth says.
As Roth is walking around the back of the diner desperately trying to find the lost signal on his mobile phone, he finally gives up and takes a seat in the corner booth with the man.
"So where were you headed before you had to stop?," Roth asks.
The man lowers the paper he is reading and puts it down on the table.
"Me?," the man replies. "Well I was on my way to an interview upstate, but that's over with now," the man says.
"I'm sure if you called them they would understand, not like you can," Roth says sarcastically. "My cell phone lost complete signal because of this storm so I'm sure yours did as well."
"What's that?," the man asks.
"What's a cell phone," Roth says in disbelief.
As he goes to show the man his cell phone the diner pay phone begins to ring, distracting the two men. As the waitress answers and ends the call, she goes over to the sheriff at the counter and whispers something in his ear.
"Ed!," the sheriff yells. "Could you come over here?"
"Well looks like this is where I leave you," Ed says to Roth.
Ed walks over and takes a seat next to the sheriff, as the two men begin to converse. They talk for a few minutes before shaking hands and getting up from the counter as they walk towards the door. Roth notices this and speaks up.
"Hey!," Roth shouts. "If he is leaving does that mean the storm is clear and I can get going?"
"Not yet," the sheriff says as he unlocks the door and lets Ed out of the diner.
Furious, Roth gets up from the booth and makes a beeline for the door. Unfortunately, he gets there to late as the sheriff once again locks the door.
"Look man I don't know what the hell your problem is, but let me the fuck out now!," Roth commands.
"Sir I'm gonna need you to calm down and take a seat," the sheriff threatens.
The two men continue a heated exchange before the sheriff reaches for his billy club. Noticing the threatening gesture Roth clams down and says that he will just go to the booth in the back of the diner. The sheriff holsters his club and the two men return to their respective seats.
As Roth sits down and tries to assess the situation that he is in, he reaches once more for his cell phone. As he goes to retrieve his phone a sudden a thought lights up his mind like a lightning bolt.
The pay phone.
Roth jumps up out of the booth and races over to the counter.
"Miss!, Miss!," Roth shouts. "I need to use the phone, please can I use the pay phone to call my wife!?"
"I'm sorry it's policy not to let the patrons use the phone," the waitress explains.
"Please!," Roth begs. "I need to call my wife!"
"Sir, I'm sorry I can't," the waitress states.
"Let me use the fucking phone!," Roth yells.
As Roth races around from in front of the counter to try and grab the phone, the sheriff quickly follows him. As the waitress drops a pot of coffee and backs away in fright, Roth puts the phone to his ear and frantically begins to dial. Before he can finish the call, the sheriff hits Roth in the back of the head with the club.
As a Roth falls to the floor, dazed and groggy, he swears he can hear his wife's voice over the phone.
"Cole, Cole,?" the voice says.
"Janet," a fading Roth says as the room goes to black.
When Roth finally comes to in the back corner booth he slowly looks around and notices that everyone is gone. Still groggy, he gathers himself and tries to regain his bearings.
He notices that the paper Ed was reading from before is still on the table, Roth grabs it and scans the pages. Searching for some information about where he is and what kind of place that he has found himself trapped in, before making an unexpected discovery. Roth notices an obituary at the bottom of one of the pages.
"That's Ed," Roth says in shock.
It's a picture of a man that bares the uncanny resemblance to the man that Roth had a conversation with in the very booth he now finds himself sitting in. He flips the paper to the front page to check the publishing date.
December 17, 1970.
"What the hell is going on?," Roth fretted.
Just as he says this the phone again rings and a startled Roth looks up to see the elderly waitress back in the diner and walking over to the phone. She answers the phone and peers over at Roth.
"You're up," the waitress says.
"What?" a confused Roth asks.
"You can leave now," a voice says coming from over by the front door.
It's the sheriff, who reaches into his pockets taking out his keys and opening the swinging glass doors. Roth slowly gets up from the booth and walks over towards the exit. He cautiously sneaks past the sheriff and walks out into a foggy parking lot. As he wanders around aimlessly, in the overbearing and dense fog, Roth desperately searches for his car.
Then off in the distance he hears the faintest of noises. He turns around silently hoping to hear the noise again. Waiting with a reverent patience for the noise to be heard again, Roth stands alone in the fog waiting.
"Hello?, Cole,?" the voice calls out from the fog.
"Janet?!," Roth yells.
Roth runs into the fog chasing after the elusive voice of his wife calling his name from the distance. As he gets closer and closer to the sound of his wife's voice, Roth reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone hoping to call Janet and pinpoint her location in the confusing fog.
Suddenly Roth comes to a stop as he realizes that his phone is no longer in his pocket. He begins frantically searching the rest of his pockets to no avail, until he notices a dim light a few feet in front of him on the ground.
Roth walks over to the barley luminous light being suffocated by the fog to examine what it is. It is his cell phone, only it has been shattered and destroyed yet somehow is still holding a connection to the call made to his wife.
"I don't understand," a puzzled Roth exclaims.
Suddenly more flashing lights arise from the fog behind Roth that catch his attention. He turns around and notices the fog clearing away to reveal a number of police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance.
As Roth walks toward the scene he notices that the police and emergency personal are taping off a crash scene between multiple cars. As he walks closer to the scene he notices that nobody seems to be paying any attention or stopping him.
Roth reaches the point of impact and looks into one of the mangled and wrecked cars, only to see his face covered in blood starring back at him.
"What the fuck!?!," Roth screams.
Roth runs around from person to person trying to gain their attention, but they do not heed his desperate pleas. Whenever Roth tries to grab onto someone for help he inexplicably passes right through them. Roth stands in a stunned and crippling silence examine his pale hands.
"What is happening to me?," Roth begs.
Then Roth overhears a conversation between a few members of the emergency crew and police squad.
"What a fucking mess," an EMT says.
"Ya one of the more grisly accidents we've had this year," a highway officer says.
"Any idea what happened?," the EMT says.
The highway officer responds as he turns to Roth's car pointing at the dead body trapped in the mangled pile of wreckage.
"It looks like this guy overhear was calling someone on his phone, dropped it, and then when he tried to pick it back up lost control of his car because of the rain and the fog," the highway officer states.
"Poor bastard, who do you think he was trying to call?," the EMT asks.
Then the conversation becomes muffled as a dejected and sickened Roth begins to realized what has happened. Almost in shock from the disbelief, Roth begins to wander around with no direction. He once again strolls into a patch of fog that blinds him from his surroundings.
Fifteen minutes go by as Roth is walking aimlessly with no sense of how to come to grips with the information that he has learned. Just as he is about to sit down in the middle of the highway, the fog clears revealing an Exit 119 highway sign.
Roth stumbles, almost drunk from the despair, up the exit and finds himself back at the front door of the small family diner. A disheveled Roth opens the door and quietly walks into the restaurant. He walks in acknowledging nothing and no one as he takes a seat at the diner counter.
An elderly waitress comes over to re-fill Roth's empty coffee cup. He nods and politely says thank you as she pours the boiling hot liquid. A handful of spread-out patrons liter the small diner, each minding their own business.
"Man this storm really came out of no-where huh?," Roth says to another elderly gentleman sitting at the end of the counter.
Inside of a highway oasis restaurant Roth, a young traveling salesman, sits at the counter of a small family diner talking on his cell phone. A bad cluster of thunderstorms has rolled through the area forcing the man off the road and into the rest stop just off highway exit 119.
An elderly waitress comes over to re-fill Roth's empty coffee cup. He nods and politely says thank you as she pours the boiling hot liquid. A handful of spread-out patrons liter the small diner, each minding their own business.
"Man this storm really came out of no-where huh?," Roth says to another elderly gentleman sitting at the end of the counter.
"I got to get going soon," the elderly man says. "Can't stay here to long. I've got to get going."
Puzzled and slightly concerned about the manner in which the elderly man spoke, Roth turns back to the waitress who is still standing in front of him.
"Is he okay," Roth asks.
"Ya he has just been here longer than he thought he would be," the waitress says.
"What do you mean," Roth ponders.
Just before the waitress can explain herself the phone next to the kitchen door rings and she leaves the conversation to answer the call. Roth shrugs off the odd statement and returns his attention to his coffee.
Fifteen minutes pass by as the storm outside of the diner continues. Roth finally decides that he is going to try to drive through the storm and get home to his wife. He has been on the road for close to a month now.
"Thanks for the coffee," Roth says as he stands up and lays a few dollar bills down on the counter.
As Roth makes his way towards the doors to head to his car in the parking lot, when suddenly the local sheriff burst through the entrance stopping Roth in his tracks.
"Sorry no-body is going anywhere right now," the sheriff states.
"It's okay I think I'm just going to drive through it," Roth claims.
"Sorry sir I can't let you leave, nothing personal I'm just doing my job," the sheriff says.
Before Roth can make his way out of the diner the sheriff takes out a set of keys and locks the front doors. Reluctantly, Roth abides by the sheriff's orders and is content to wait out the storm for a little while longer.
"Well if I have to stay do you mind letting me know when I can hit the road?," Roth asks.
"You can go when it's time to go," the sheriff barks.
"Ha, alright," Roth dismisses.
Roth heads back to his seat at the counter and asks for a menu with another cup of coffee. He orders a cheese burger and fries as he figures that he might as well enjoy a hot meal while he waits for the all clear to head back on his trip home.
Another fifteen minutes go by.
"How was it?," the waitress asks taking the empty plate from in front of Roth.
"Perfect, thank you very much," Roth praises. "Hey I've been meaning to ask you, how long have you been working here. My mom is getting towards your age and it's just nice to see someone like herself still as independent as you are."
"Oh its been around three or four years now," the waitress says. "It is definitely better than just waiting around doing nothing like most of these other people."
"Ya, I think know what you mean," Roth states.
"I don't think you do," the waitress says walking back to the kitchen with the plate.
Roth seems put off and offended by the way the waitress ended the conversation and turns to the sheriff to start another.
"Is everyone here kind of rude?," Roth asks the sheriff.
"Everyone deals with being here in their own way, it's best just to keep to yourself while you are here," the sheriff says. "Just like you, were not all here by our own choice."
Roth takes the advice of the sheriff and keeps to himself. He pulls out his cell-phone and looks to see if his wife has left him a message, but when he looks at his phone he notices that he has lost the signal he had from earlier. Roth begins to wander around the diner starring at his phone, holding it up to the ceiling, desperately trying to find a few bars to call his wife.
"God damn it!," Roth yells.
"You aren't going to find a signal here," a patron sitting in a corner booth says. "You might as well just sit down and wait like the rest of us."
"Thanks but I think I will just keep trying, my wife has a tendency to worry," Roth bickered.
"Nothing really left to worry about don't you think?," the man says.
"Okay am I missing something or is everyone just trying to be super cryptic with everything they say," Roth chides.
"I just think that they are trying to ease your mind, not everyone handles being cooped up in here so well," the man explains.
"I'm fine, as soon as I can get back on the road and get home I'll be even better," Roth says.
As Roth is walking around the back of the diner desperately trying to find the lost signal on his mobile phone, he finally gives up and takes a seat in the corner booth with the man.
"So where were you headed before you had to stop?," Roth asks.
The man lowers the paper he is reading and puts it down on the table.
"Me?," the man replies. "Well I was on my way to an interview upstate, but that's over with now," the man says.
"I'm sure if you called them they would understand, not like you can," Roth says sarcastically. "My cell phone lost complete signal because of this storm so I'm sure yours did as well."
"What's that?," the man asks.
"What's a cell phone," Roth says in disbelief.
As he goes to show the man his cell phone the diner pay phone begins to ring, distracting the two men. As the waitress answers and ends the call, she goes over to the sheriff at the counter and whispers something in his ear.
"Ed!," the sheriff yells. "Could you come over here?"
"Well looks like this is where I leave you," Ed says to Roth.
Ed walks over and takes a seat next to the sheriff, as the two men begin to converse. They talk for a few minutes before shaking hands and getting up from the counter as they walk towards the door. Roth notices this and speaks up.
"Hey!," Roth shouts. "If he is leaving does that mean the storm is clear and I can get going?"
"Not yet," the sheriff says as he unlocks the door and lets Ed out of the diner.
Furious, Roth gets up from the booth and makes a beeline for the door. Unfortunately, he gets there to late as the sheriff once again locks the door.
"Look man I don't know what the hell your problem is, but let me the fuck out now!," Roth commands.
"Sir I'm gonna need you to calm down and take a seat," the sheriff threatens.
The two men continue a heated exchange before the sheriff reaches for his billy club. Noticing the threatening gesture Roth clams down and says that he will just go to the booth in the back of the diner. The sheriff holsters his club and the two men return to their respective seats.
As Roth sits down and tries to assess the situation that he is in, he reaches once more for his cell phone. As he goes to retrieve his phone a sudden a thought lights up his mind like a lightning bolt.
The pay phone.
Roth jumps up out of the booth and races over to the counter.
"Miss!, Miss!," Roth shouts. "I need to use the phone, please can I use the pay phone to call my wife!?"
"I'm sorry it's policy not to let the patrons use the phone," the waitress explains.
"Please!," Roth begs. "I need to call my wife!"
"Sir, I'm sorry I can't," the waitress states.
"Let me use the fucking phone!," Roth yells.
As Roth races around from in front of the counter to try and grab the phone, the sheriff quickly follows him. As the waitress drops a pot of coffee and backs away in fright, Roth puts the phone to his ear and frantically begins to dial. Before he can finish the call, the sheriff hits Roth in the back of the head with the club.
As a Roth falls to the floor, dazed and groggy, he swears he can hear his wife's voice over the phone.
"Cole, Cole,?" the voice says.
"Janet," a fading Roth says as the room goes to black.
When Roth finally comes to in the back corner booth he slowly looks around and notices that everyone is gone. Still groggy, he gathers himself and tries to regain his bearings.
He notices that the paper Ed was reading from before is still on the table, Roth grabs it and scans the pages. Searching for some information about where he is and what kind of place that he has found himself trapped in, before making an unexpected discovery. Roth notices an obituary at the bottom of one of the pages.
"That's Ed," Roth says in shock.
It's a picture of a man that bares the uncanny resemblance to the man that Roth had a conversation with in the very booth he now finds himself sitting in. He flips the paper to the front page to check the publishing date.
December 17, 1970.
"What the hell is going on?," Roth fretted.
Just as he says this the phone again rings and a startled Roth looks up to see the elderly waitress back in the diner and walking over to the phone. She answers the phone and peers over at Roth.
"You're up," the waitress says.
"What?" a confused Roth asks.
"You can leave now," a voice says coming from over by the front door.
It's the sheriff, who reaches into his pockets taking out his keys and opening the swinging glass doors. Roth slowly gets up from the booth and walks over towards the exit. He cautiously sneaks past the sheriff and walks out into a foggy parking lot. As he wanders around aimlessly, in the overbearing and dense fog, Roth desperately searches for his car.
Then off in the distance he hears the faintest of noises. He turns around silently hoping to hear the noise again. Waiting with a reverent patience for the noise to be heard again, Roth stands alone in the fog waiting.
"Hello?, Cole,?" the voice calls out from the fog.
"Janet?!," Roth yells.
Roth runs into the fog chasing after the elusive voice of his wife calling his name from the distance. As he gets closer and closer to the sound of his wife's voice, Roth reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone hoping to call Janet and pinpoint her location in the confusing fog.
Suddenly Roth comes to a stop as he realizes that his phone is no longer in his pocket. He begins frantically searching the rest of his pockets to no avail, until he notices a dim light a few feet in front of him on the ground.
Roth walks over to the barley luminous light being suffocated by the fog to examine what it is. It is his cell phone, only it has been shattered and destroyed yet somehow is still holding a connection to the call made to his wife.
"I don't understand," a puzzled Roth exclaims.
Suddenly more flashing lights arise from the fog behind Roth that catch his attention. He turns around and notices the fog clearing away to reveal a number of police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance.
As Roth walks toward the scene he notices that the police and emergency personal are taping off a crash scene between multiple cars. As he walks closer to the scene he notices that nobody seems to be paying any attention or stopping him.
Roth reaches the point of impact and looks into one of the mangled and wrecked cars, only to see his face covered in blood starring back at him.
"What the fuck!?!," Roth screams.
Roth runs around from person to person trying to gain their attention, but they do not heed his desperate pleas. Whenever Roth tries to grab onto someone for help he inexplicably passes right through them. Roth stands in a stunned and crippling silence examine his pale hands.
"What is happening to me?," Roth begs.
Then Roth overhears a conversation between a few members of the emergency crew and police squad.
"What a fucking mess," an EMT says.
"Ya one of the more grisly accidents we've had this year," a highway officer says.
"Any idea what happened?," the EMT says.
The highway officer responds as he turns to Roth's car pointing at the dead body trapped in the mangled pile of wreckage.
"It looks like this guy overhear was calling someone on his phone, dropped it, and then when he tried to pick it back up lost control of his car because of the rain and the fog," the highway officer states.
"Poor bastard, who do you think he was trying to call?," the EMT asks.
Then the conversation becomes muffled as a dejected and sickened Roth begins to realized what has happened. Almost in shock from the disbelief, Roth begins to wander around with no direction. He once again strolls into a patch of fog that blinds him from his surroundings.
Fifteen minutes go by as Roth is walking aimlessly with no sense of how to come to grips with the information that he has learned. Just as he is about to sit down in the middle of the highway, the fog clears revealing an Exit 119 highway sign.
Roth stumbles, almost drunk from the despair, up the exit and finds himself back at the front door of the small family diner. A disheveled Roth opens the door and quietly walks into the restaurant. He walks in acknowledging nothing and no one as he takes a seat at the diner counter.
An elderly waitress comes over to re-fill Roth's empty coffee cup. He nods and politely says thank you as she pours the boiling hot liquid. A handful of spread-out patrons liter the small diner, each minding their own business.
"Man this storm really came out of no-where huh?," Roth says to another elderly gentleman sitting at the end of the counter.
THE END
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