The small group is traveling trying to find others, trying to find the scope of the damage and the survivors...

A long, gray, older Lincoln sat at the curb idling, its wipers throwing great sheets of water from the windshield. The darkened side windows gleamed, reflecting back the bright glare of the station lights. Lisa, and several of the others were waving through the glass in an attempt to get the drivers attention.

"Where did it come from?" Frank asked, puzzled.

"I don't know," she replied. "I turned around and there it was. Aren't they going to come in?"

"Maybe they're afraid," Annie said, shrugging her shoulders. "They must see us."

Everyone stood silently for a few seconds staring out at the car. It still sat at the curb, and it appeared to Annie that the person or people inside it were not going to come in. Just as she had the thought though, the car reversed, and began to slowly back up towards the entrance to the station.

When it reached the station entrance, it pulled slowly onto the edge of the pavement and stopped.

"What are they doing," Mike asked, sounding slightly afraid.

Everyone else turned towards Frank expecting that he might be able to answer the question.

"I don't know," Frank said. "Could be they're afraid like Annie said, I guess."

"Might be better to flick off the inside lights," Gary said, in a low tone of voice. "It doesn't look as though they intend to say hello." He peered out at the gray Lincoln.

Annie reached over and flicked off the inside lights.

Almost immediately the Lincoln's headlights came on and it pulled ahead slightly, angling the beams into the station interior. The lights flicked up to high beams, flooding the interior in harsh bright light. Almost as soon as the lights had flicked up however, they winked out.

Tiny spots floated in front of Frank's eyes and he quickly blinked them away. The car was backing slowly into the road, away from the station.

"What the hell is he doing?" Dave asked, looking at Gary. "What the hell was that all about?" he asked again.

"Whoever it is, they're curious, I think," Gary said.

"I didn't much like that either," Frank said as he looked over at Dave. Bob stood beside him, his eyes locked on the car.

Once the Lincoln reached the roadway it pulled slowly up to the stop sign at Route 250 and once again sat idling, its lights still off. Frank tried squinting his eyes tighter, to see into the darkened side windows, but they almost seemed pitch black, like a limousine, he thought.

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