"Yeah." She wasn't.
"Good." It wasn't.
"Let's get moving. We should be there by midnight."
They set out along the road, an empty country highway stretching clear across the state. Three microdots moving against a retreating horizon, going nowhere. In twelve hours, they'd be somewhere different, somewhere new, but just as nothing as the spot where they slept the night before.
Mandy trailed the two men, letting them walk a dozen feet in front. She wasn't scared of what was ahead, what was behind was more terrifying by far. But the talk. She couldn't handle anymore of the conversation, repeating every detail of the past three days over and over, as if any of them had forgotten. Could forget. She wasn't sure she'd ever remember anything else.
The road split two wooded areas, tall pines and royal oaks on either side, stretching back into a national forest on to the north and wealthy estates to the south. The leaves were changing on the deciduous trees, sprinkling lightly in the late afternoon sun. She was taken by the beauty, the soft warmth of the landscape despite the breeze that grew colder with every hour. People would spend entire days driving these roads, taking in the scenery like a movie playing on their car window screens. They'd plan for it. People used to plan things, and more than a day in advance like she and her fellow travelers were doing. She wondered if planning would return.
She'd never been a planner. Things were better when she wasn't cornered by looming events, even if they would have been more interesting in the end. There was always the chance that the perfect opportunity would appear at the last moment, and she wanted to be open to it. As the road slipped into new asphalt, she felt justified in her decision not to make any decisions. These things proved it. They didn't abide anyone's plans, they didn't have plans. They just were, and everyone's best plans were streamlined into these creatures' chaos. In a way the things had given everyone a new plan, a new imperative to follow before anything else, a new goal, more important than friends and family, more desirable than football games, movies, retro-parties, one-night-stands, more precious than children.
"I am," she thought back at Captain Obvious, "but it doesn't matter." The corner of her lips turned upwards, just a nudge, just enough that if he saw, he'd know she was laughing at his commitment to getting there. Just another plan for those things to destroy.