The Red Light (a wasteland urban legend)
By: Steven King
It was a long time ago right after the world first died, back when you could travel the wastelands alone if your vehicle was fast enough. My great grand pa was one of those first travelers he said the world was in chaos and you could never be sure about the people you had to trust, but if you didn’t listen to them you would pay with your life.
The last trading posts before you entered the wastelands offered real meat, good gas and as much supply’s as you could carry for the right price but the real gold mine was the info you would gather from traders, shop owners and fellow travelers. Back in the day the drive from Old Los Angeles to Boise Idaho it was just a 13 hour drive unlike the 29 hour horror filled drive we have now dodging between warring tribes and rouge loners bent on taking everything you have and you ending up in their stew pot but Even then it hand its dangers. One such time was when my great grandpa’s best friend made the crossing from old Los Angeles to the new U.S. capital in Boise Idaho. He wanted to stop for a good meal and a full tank before he left for Boise. As he was eating the shop keep asked him why he was going to travel the wastes at night he said he felt it was safer you can’t catch what you can’t see and he could handle anything the night could through at him. The shop keep asked if he wanted some advice, sure you never know when some info will come in handy. The shop keep said if you see a red light in the distance don’t stop, if you get a flat don’t stop, if you drop something don’t stop. That red light is pure hell and will send you burning to the depths of hell if you give it half a chance. My grandpa’s friend snickered and replied a red light I’ll keep my eye out.
As soon as the sun went down he started out, a powerful 72 mustang loaded with fuel and supplies bent for Boise rumbled its way out of the gates into the darkness. For the first 10 hours it was quiet for the most part, the road was in better shaped then he hoped and he was making great time. Just as the last radio station started to fade out he started seeing a sign on the side of the road, don’t stop for the red light it was written in reflective paint on an off white back ground and stood out for miles. He shuck this off as a hoax made by the locals that pass this way often, about 30 minutes later he saw another sign. This time it was just white paint on a dull back ground saying the same thing don’t stop for the red light. After another 30 minutes he saw what he thought was a sign it was bare wood written in what could be red paint it just said don’t stop. He now started to look around but didn’t see anything, no read light’s, there weren’t any boogie men, so he drove on. About an hour later he drove past another sign that was just burnt wood, then he saw it a faint red light on the road behind him. His heart started to beat faster and he pressed down on the gas. The hungry V8 came to life, pressed him back in his seat. He looked back and the light was now twice the size is was before. He started to worry but when he crested the hill he could see Boise, but he looked behind him and the light was even close and getting closer and closer every second. He nailed the gas and the tires screeched searching for traction but that red light was now on his bumper filling the cab with a creepy red glow, he could feel the heat, as if 100 nukes where all going off at once, and he started to hear an odd noise as if millions of souls where screaming in pain. His foot was to the floor and he had one trick left he flipped a switch on the dash and an extra 350 horse power rushed into the engine, he was so close he could see the gates but the red light was almost equal to him on all sides. Then as he went screaming through the gates and slammed on the brakes, he jumped out of his car looking back into the darkness and saw nothing. He walked around to the back of his car and the paint was burnt with the hand prints of people.
Last edited by oi101 (Today 03:44:12)