Disappearance Read Online Free PDF

way, early grocery shopping is a fun and pleasant experience.
    The highway is only a block or so away from the grocery store. I feel the anticipation of what's to come starting to build up inside me. Sure, little Nowhere, Ohio may be a ghost town, but it's a large world out there and I'm ready to see that things are normal just over the horizon.
    I pull onto the on ramp and head west towards Chesterfield in pursuit of my Abby. It just occurs to me, if I make my way over there and see her, she's going to be shocked to see me. She knows this is a big day for me, and she'll probably expect a report of great news. I'm going to have to think about what I'm going to say first. Saying I was a scared little puppy and that everyone is gone and I had to run away from home is an embarrassing story to tell, even if it is Abby I'm telling it to.
    I'll bet when I do tell her what I've done today, she'll give me that "You're an idiot" look and remind me of the reason why things are the way they are. That, or she'll roll her eyes and think I'm crazy.
    The highway is completely deserted for as far as I can see. In my younger days I would have loved this and driven as fast as my little Chevy Cavalier would take me. My reckless days are gone now though and I drive like an old person. I feel as if I'm living on the edge when I drive any more than five miles per hour over the speed limit.
    Today is different. There's nobody around, and I'm starting to feel more and more adventurous. It's the first time I've ever pulled onto I-70 West and not had a string of cars willing to run me over for entering their highway. I can see about two miles in front of me and my foot starts to push harder on the pedal. I don't quite reach the 90 or 100 of my youth; when I hit eighty-five miles per hour it's enough to give me a heart attack. I feel a small rush of adrenaline pour over me as I speed down the highway at a speed I haven't driven in ten years.
    It makes me feel old knowing I've been driving for ten years. Many of my high-school friends are driving around in Minivans carrying a couple kids. The years go by so fast.
    As I zip around the corner, I slow down to be near the speed limit. The last thing I need is to flip the car over. It's amazing how slow the speed limit feels when you've being going so much faster. It seems as if you could get out of your car and walk faster. When I see no one is coming and I have a long, straight stretch of highway in front of me, I kick the car back to over eighty miles per hour.
    Up ahead I remember there's a small town where I used to golf. It has electric carts so there's no chance of filling up my tank. The town is the kind of place where everyone can walk to anywhere they need. Every time I've been there, there are always lots of people outside. It's just off the highway, so a quick drive by the main road seems like a good idea.
    I pull off the exit ramp and make a left off the ramp. I laugh a little because I notice I still put on my turn signal. Of all of the things drivers do and don't do, not putting on a turn signal annoys me the most. It's pure laziness. How hard is it to flick your wrist up or down when you're turning?
    I approach the main street area where there are a few local stores and restaurants on the left. On the right is a great little ice cream shop I usually hit up after my round. It has a playground in the back that's normally packed with kids playing and wearing ice cream stained T-shirts. Because it's fall, I have to admit I've never actually been here during this time of year. I only play golf when it's nice out. When I pull over I see the still, empty swing sets. The local coffee shop up ahead is empty too. All of the lights seem to be out in every little store as far as I can see. There are still a few cars parked on the road so I haven't given up hope yet. Not as many cars as a typical day but enough for me to believe people were around in the not too distant past.
    The unsettling part though is