THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED
The dreaded, high-pitched buzz of the Emergency Broadcast System simultaneously came across my phone and television. I was finishing my coffee and bracing myself for Friday morning rush-hour traffic, but realized there was something unusual about this broadcast. I was so used to hearing the word “test” after these alerts began that I initially ignored what was being said. As the message continued past its usual duration I realized things were about to get hairy real quick.
A massive chemical spill had occurred at a railway junction less than two miles from my home. The broadcast was unclear about the contaminants being released into the air, but what I knew for sure was that staying here was dangerous. It was time to beat feet. Since the freeways were gridlocked due to time of day and others surely looking to bail after hearing the broadcast, I determined that the best thing to do was to drive my UTV (Utility Task Vehicle) away from the direction of the accident using an escape route I’d plotted a while back. I grabbed my backpack, strapped down some other ancillaries
