Jim blinked and stared at Boyd as his mind replayed what the man had told him. "What?" he asked, almost laughing. "You're saying we're stuck here? That every road just loops back?"
His tone was sharp and defensive. He shook his head quickly. "That doesn't make sense.....that's not possible." His eyes narrowed. "Are you people doing this? Some kind of trick? Did you guys put the tree their causing us to take a detour?"
Boyd didn't answer right away. His silence said more than words.
Jim's suspicion grew. His voice rose with frustration, "If you think I'm just going to sit here and accept that story, you're crazy. I'll try again myself. I'll drive all night if I have to. You'll see."
But even as he spoke, there was doubt in his voice. The memory of the RV circling back gnawed at him.
His suspicion gave way to something worse—the thought that Boyd might be telling the truth.
Boyd finally spoke, his voice calm and heavy. "I know how it sounds. I didn't believe it either at first. I thought it was a trick too. But it's not. You've already seen it. You drove the road. You watched it spit you back out."
Boyd stepped closer, speaking in a steady tone. "I don't blame you for not trusting me. If I were in your place, I'd think the same. That someone set this up. That maybe it was a scam or a trap. But tell me—what would I even gain from that?"
Jim stayed silent, tense.
Boyd pointed toward the RV. "You've got a wife and kids in there. If I wanted to take from you or hurt you, don't you think I could've already done it? You've seen this town. You know I've got people with me. If I wanted to overpower you, blackmail you, scare your family—I could. Easily. But I'm not. Because that's not what this is."
Jim's jaw tightened. He looked back at the RV. He saw the faint outline of Tabitha's face in the window, her hand pressed against the glass, watching.
Boyd lowered his voice. It was firm, almost fatherly. "Think about your family. Really think about them. You need to understand what's at stake. This isn't just about you. If you keep pushing down that road, trying to prove me wrong, you're not the only one who pays the price. Your family does too."
The words hit harder than Jim expected. His chest felt tight. His fists unclenched. Still, he shook his head, clinging to denial even as cracks showed. "No… no, there's got to be another explanation. Roads don't just trap people. There's something else. Something you're not telling me."
Boyd didn't flinch and continued convincing Jim. "You don't have to trust me right now. I get it. But the day's ending, and when night comes, this place changes. Bring your family inside the clinic. It's not safe out here."
Jim went silent. His face was still tense as he stared past Boyd, his mind racing with the weight of everything he had just heard. The silence stretched, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the wind. He replayed Boyd's words again and again, each one pressing against his skepticism. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and reluctant.
"…What happens in the night that's making you so apprehensive?"
Boyd drew in a deep breath. His expression a bit uneasy as if he had been bracing for this moment. He wondered if telling the truth would only make Jim dismiss it as madness. But if he stayed quiet, Jim might walk away thinking this was some kind of trick. If Jim tried to test the road at night, the cost would be too high.
Boyd made his choice. "At night, this place changes. Things come out of the forest. They look human, but they're not. They smile, they talk like us, but don't let that fool you. They're monsters. And if they find you outside, if they find your family…" He paused for a moment before finishing. "…you won't survive it."
Jim blinked at him, his face tightening in disbelief. He was about to call him out again for such baseless remarks, but the look in Boyd's eyes stopped him. There was no humor there, no sign of a trick. Boyd wasn't trying to scare him for fun—he looked like a man who had lived through hell and barely crawled back.
His throat felt tight. If there was even the smallest chance Boyd was telling the truth, even one percent, could he risk ignoring it? His mind told him it was nonsense and that there had to be a logical explanation. But his gut twisted uncomfortably, reminding him that his instincts had kept his family safe through long drives and wrong turns.
He rubbed a hand over his face and muttered, "This is insane…"
The fight in his tone was still there, but it was weaker now. Fear and doubt had worn it down. For the first time since the conversation began, Jim didn't sound like a man ready to argue. He sounded like a man weighing how much suspicion and doubt he could give up to keep his family alive.
Jim let out a long sigh. His voice was quieter now, without the defensiveness from before. "Alright," he said first to himself, then to Boyd. "I'll listen to what you're saying. Even if my head keeps screaming that none of this makes sense, I can't… I won't put my family in danger. Not if there's even a shred of truth to your warning."
He paused. His shoulders dropped as if those words had cost him. After a few seconds, he added, "But I can't just sit still. My mind won't let me. There's still time before sunset. I want to drive around the town again. One or two times. Just so I can see it for myself. I'll stop before sundown." He looked at Boyd as if asking for his opinion.
Boyd tapped his fingers on his thigh. His eyes went to the treeline and then back to Jim. After a few seconds, he answered. "Two loops. Tops. And drive slowly. Don't push it. When newcomers panic on the road, the townspeople are in danger too. You understand?"
Jim nodded. He extended his hand. "Jim Matthews," he said then added after pointing towards the RV. "My wife Tabitha, and my kids—Ethan and Julie."
Boyd shook his hand and introduced himself. "Boyd. Boyd Stevens. Sheriff of this town."
The handshake lasted a moment longer than normal. It showed a silent agreement. Not trust, but recognition of responsibility. Jim gave a short nod of thanks and turned toward the door.
Outside, the air felt cooler. The daylight was already softening as evening approached. Jim saw Dean standing nearby, speaking with Kenny.
Jim stopped near them. His voice was filled with gratitude "Jim Matthews," he said, introducing himself and continued," I just wanted to thank you—for the advice earlier. About driving slow. It probably saved us from worse trouble."
Dean gave a faint smile and introduced himself too. He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Just glad you listened."
The RV stood ahead of him, looking fragile in the fading light. He walked faster, climbed the step, and opened the door.
Inside, he looked at his wife and kids. Their faces were tight with worry, but they were safe. That was what mattered most.
He slid into the driver's seat. The leather creaked under his weight. He gripped the steering wheel, holding onto the familiar feel. Behind him, Ethan leaned forward from the back. "Dad, what did that man say? You've been out there forever."
Julie sat beside him, hugging her knees. "Yeah… you look serious."
Tabitha leaned forward too, her face portraying the same question their kids had.
Jim kept his eyes on the windshield. His voice was even, steady. "Boyd thinks the roads don't work right. I just want to drive and see for myself."
Julie frowned. "What do you mean, don't work right?"
Ethan tilted his head. "Was it due to the tree?"
Jim caught their eyes in the mirror and steadied his voice. "Alright, you two, sit back and relax. Let me focus on the road, okay?"
Ethan and Julie shifted reluctantly, leaning back but still watching him with wide eyes.
Seeing their reluctance, Jim continued, his voice even. "Nothing for you to worry about. I'll handle it."
Ethan and Julie exchanged a quick look but did as they were told. Their unease was still clear, but they stayed quiet.
Tabitha leaned closer from her seat, her voice low, tight. "Jim. Tell me the truth. What did he really say?"
Jim didn't answer right away. He waited until the kids had settled back a little more, then leaned toward her, lowering his voice. "He says no matter how far you drive, the roads circle back. That's why we ended up in town again earlier. Not a wrong turn. A loop.
Tabitha frowned. "That's ridiculous. Roads don't just—"
"I know," Jim cut in, sharper than he intended. He took a breath and lowered his voice. "I told him the same thing. But he swears it's true. Says he's seen it himself. And we… we already circled back thrice...with no signs of any detour."
Tabhita's face was filled with suspicion. "That's impossible."
Jim met her eyes and his voice softened. "I don't like it either. But it's something we need to check. That's why we'll drive two more times. If the road still loops us back, we'll stop."
Tabitha's eyes narrowed. "So you believe him?"
Jim shook his head. "Not yet. But he's convinced. And he warned me about something else." He hesitated, then glanced at the kids to see if they were listening. Lowering his voice, he whispered, "He says it's not safe to be outside after dark. That's why I agreed to stop driving before sunset."
Tabitha leaned back slowly. His tone unsettled her, and she felt there was more he wasn't saying. But she understood why he didn't want to speak openly in front of the kids. She also knew Jim would never make a choice that put their family at risk. That was enough for her to trust him.
"Two times. Then we're done," she said.
Jim gave a short nod.
He looked out the window one more time. Then he started the engine. The RV rumbled to life. He pressed the accelerator and guided it onto the road.
He didn't know if the loop would appear again. He didn't know if the road would do what Boyd had said. The sun was still up, and he had one chance to see for himself.
Jim Matthews needed proof. Proof that his world hadn't just been turned upside down. Proof that he wasn't risking his family's lives on a stranger's story.
The daylight was slipping. Jim drove.
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