He had waited years, but it wouldn’t be long now. The sun was setting and he was making good time. He’d arrive just after dark, when everyone was settling down for the evening. When they wouldn’t be looking for him.
He couldn’t find anything on the radio — there was no soundtrack for what he had planned — so he shut it off and just listened to the road rolling beneath his wheels. It felt good. This felt good. Taking action rather than waiting, wondering, worrying. Moving was better than standing still. He felt foolish for not doing this sooner.
What had he been waiting on, he wondered. The past was never going to get better. It was set in stone, and waiting for things to change was just adding more stones on top of it. No, things were going to be different after tonight. Better? Worse? Didn’t matter. A different future was better than the suffocating present.
He felt bad for the people who’d be caught in the middle, and there would be people in the way. There wasn’t any helping that. He hadn’t been the one to start this, though. He had been caught himself. It was time.
He flashed his lights to let someone over into his lane who looked to be coming over anyway. Another day, that would have made him angry; today, he felt a peace he had always longed for.
“Go big or go home,” his father always said. Tonight, he was going to do both.