There was indeed a road. And Beefcake had been right to call it a “big-ass road.” As far as he could see, it stretched in both directions. But so did everything else out in the planes. Eli missed the cities, or at least places with a bit of verticality in them. Here, the only thing that stood between him and the vanishing point on the horizon was all of the ruined cars. They practically formed a wall made of bare metal frames locking into one another. There wasn’t any glass to reflect the sunlight; all of the blasts would have made it so there wouldn’t be an intact pane for thousands of feet. He hated to be metaphorical, but the Singing Road looked and felt skeletal. 

“Well, uh… We’re here.” D.Q. said as she began to ease off on the sled. They glided to a stop less than thirty feet from where the wrecks began. A few had rolled or been tossed out of line from the explosions, but otherwise the cars all sat undisturbed. 

“Have either of you ever seen this many cars in one place?” He asked his two companions. D.Q. shook her head, and Beefcake kept stared down the length of the road. None of them were moving forward. He would have to be the first, as usual. Eli started walking towards the nearest car, a minivan with the remains of several metal implements on top of it. By now, all of the bags and plastic containers would have been blown away or decomposed. These people had loaded their vehicles up with everything that they could fit. Forget the question about how many cars they had seen— how many lives had they witnessed all packed into one place? 

Eli ran his hand across the driver-side door on the minivan. The corroded plastic and metal rasped against his glove. There was still good strip to be had from these vehicles. He lifted up a hood and found what was left of a decent engine… and whatever internal components were used before the Burnout. All of the other cars probably had their parts intact as well. No one had been around to strip them. No one had ever thought about tampering with these cars after what had happened to them. This was the same thing with the town they had been to: it felt like they were the first humans to have visited it for over 30 years. Something else felt off about these cars. It wasn’t how most of them were blackened, or… it was the opposite.

“There’s hardly any snow on these cars.” He realized.

“Makes sense, Look up.” Beefcake suggested. 

The sky was clear. Perfectly clear. There weren’t any clouds at all. Just to the right of him, there was the infinite stretch of gray that had been pounding them with snow all morning. The other side was also saturated with clouds. For a linear stretch above them, the sky was crisp and blue.

“Do either of you have any knowledge of meteorology— or just weather in general?” He asked. Both of them shook their heads.

“Neither do I. But I know that’s not normal.” Eli declared. There obviously wouldn’t be any snow coming from directly above them, however the cars still had a few inches on them. That amount could have been blown in from either side. This road hadn’t seen any direct snowfall this winter. Maybe not for any winter since 2030. He felt solid ground under his boots for the first time since he had stepped off of the Roller’s deck. Eli was in the process of kneeling down, when he saw that there was a wrecked car on both sides of him, and on his rear. Too much cover. This was the only substantial cover for miles around. If anyone was going to try to ambush him, this would be the place.

“D.Q! Get on top of one of these cars, and watch for movement. Beefcake! Get me the bag that she brought!” He shouted. 

Once their gunner was standing on top of the minivan, ready to rain down on anyone who might try to keep Eli from meddling with powers beyond his understanding, he went to a crouch and started wiping the snow off the ground.

“What’re you up to?” Beefcake asked him. Eli ignored him and kept clearing out a stretch of bare asphalt. He had chosen a spot that was close to the surrounding prairie for this. On the prairie side, there was dead grass under the snow. Meanwhile on the Road, there was only cracked rock. After clearing out over five feet of this prairie-road divide, Eli was certain that something had been intervening. 

“It takes less than five years for weeds to start working their way onto an undriven road.” Eli said, drawing a hypothetical line from the grass to the road’s surface.

“Still cracked up from freezes and rains.” Beefcake added.

“By now, this road should have been perforated with grasses, maybe saplings if trees grew here.” He said.

“Ya think that—” Eli cut D.Q. off.

“—That someone’s been going around, spending hundreds of hours weeding the Singing Road? Yes. I think someone’s been doing that.” He said.

“It’s the Reapers, this is their holy place.” Beefcake said.

“They’re trying to preserve it.”

“And are they also doin’ that?” D.Q. raised her autocannon to the clear sky.

“No one can do that.” Beefcake said.

“Let’s get the bodies over to the other side.” Eli said. He walked back to the sled and started dragging the bag on the last car of the baggage train. Beefcake picked up the other end of it before he had to worry about cutting it open on one of the cars. He had no idea how long these “collections” went for, nor what condition the oldest body would be in. At least the cold masked any smell that it might make.

“So what is it with the Reaper-cult, and bodies?” He asked, probably because he would soon be one.

“Acknowledgement.” Eli grunted as he climbed over the barricade between the four lanes. Near the end, people had stopped obeying the directional-lane system on highways. It wasn’t like anyone had been going East.

“The Reapers were founded by survivors of the Singing Road. As we have seen, they are its caretakers.” 

“I guess they don’t want their ancestors to get lonely.” Beefcake joked as he cleared the concrete barrier as well. Eli saw that they could have gone through a hole in it that one of the bombs had carved out. 

“It’s more than that. Everyone on the sled died alone, and presumably without enough people around them for a proper burial.”

“Same as up here.” Beefcake said when they settled the bag in the snow on the other side. They both speed-walked back to where D.Q. was and went to the next body. 

“Wouldn’t the Reapers be behind the attacks and all?” D.Q. asked them when they were on the fifth body.

“I interviewed… fuck it, who am I kidding? It’s just us up here. I tortured several of them to death, asking for that kind of information. The intense ones got all mystical near the end, but I can tell you that they don’t know anything that we don’t. They’re just on this place’s good side.” Eli said.

“We’re definitely not getting on it!” She shouted back. 

“No… we’re not.” Eli muttered to himself. Beefcake seemed to be enjoying this. They half-set, half-threw the last body onto the snow on the other side. Before heading back across, Eli looked around. He thought he saw another pile of bags farther down the road. But that could have just been debris. 

“Are you ready?” He asked Beefcake as the big man was sitting on the hood of a car. 

“You actually serious about the blood-sacrifice?” He asked.

“The Reapers don’t call it, ‘blood-sacrifice’ they call it supplication, to the ‘waiting spirits of the Singing Road.” Eli said. Apparently this worked. That Blue-Rip had staked their life on coming up here to give them self up to the Road. Some of the crews he had interviewed had sworn that their enemies had sent people to Supplicate against them before an attack. 

“Hey! Why is it called the ‘Singing Road?” D.Q. asked.

“That’s a better question. I have no fucking idea.” Eli said.

“You really are a sadistic asshole.” Beefcake sneered at him.

“I’m not. I admit that I am an asshole. And that I do get an adrenaline rush when I hurt people— who doesn’t? But I do not enjoy my work. Executing a rapist on accursed grounds in the hopes of triggering a phenomena, is not my idea of fun.” Eli said. That rant had been brewing in him for some time now.

“What is your idea of fun then?” He asked.

“Scotch. A good book. Fellatio depending on my mood.” 

“Hear-Hear!” D.Q. shouted. 

“And sometimes I work on a paper or two.” He added. Beefcake chuckled.

“Alright… can I get in a car?” He asked.

“By all means, take your pick.”

Beefcake chose a two-seater, that looked like it might have been a convertible at one point. He settled himself in the peeling foam of the seat, and put an ungloved and brawny hand on the steering wheel. D.Q. came down to admire the scene. He puffed cool and uncaring whiffs of steam into the air, like he was having a good smoke. Eli sat on the hood in front of him. The gunner put a hand on her autocannon’s trigger.

“Picture this: it’s a day like this in 2030…” Beefcake said.

“And I’m one of those millions of people who are trapped on this road. There’s cars for miles, both ahead and behind me. To my right there’s inhospitable wilderness, and my country’s burning on my left. There’s nothing but asphalt beneath me, so I am left with no choice but to look up… at that marvelous blue sky. And in that sky, I see airplanes… flying far above me.. Going somewhere. Then I hear the first bombs drop, and start to obliterate the millions of people behind me…”

“Where are you going with this?” 

“I’m answering the nice lady’s question about why it’s called the ‘Singing Road’. So the bombs are dropping. All of this was some idea by a general who thinks he can wait this out in a bunker, or that if he holds a city tightly enough, this will all blow over. And I’m nothing to him. I stopped mattering when I got this road. Maybe I could try to steer off and off-road my way to freedom… but where would I go? What can I do, but sit back, and maybe sing a little song to myself as I get on my way to nowhere.” Beefcake said before he started humming and tapping out a melody on the steering wheel. He put an arm over the door. If it weren’t for his coat, he might have been one of those long-dead millions. 

“Song’s over.” Eli said as he took his place next to D.Q. and out of the splash-radius. Beefcake didn’t say to notice. He never took his eyes off the road in front of him.

“Eh, don’t worry. We were never going anywhere.” He said. 

D.Q. squeezed her trigger, one of the barrels reared up, and Beefcake’s head was gone. Despite the report, everything felt very quiet.

“So… about that fellatio.” D.Q. said. Eli shoved her away. 

“What the fuck is your problem?! You just shot a guy… and… not here! Not now!” He shouted with his arms outstretched.

“Relax! I can joke too, you know.” 

“You got a fucked sense of humor.” Hugo’s line came surprisingly easy to him.

“At least I have one now. You haven’t changed that much.” She said. Eli’s face went red, then he realized that there wasn’t anyone around to hear them talk.