The Gulf's Mystery

Betsy Toog sat at her desk in the Coast Guard station of Destin, Florida, reading a magazine. It was a quiet night, and her duties were few: if the phone rang, she answered it.
    She was twiddling a finger in her ear when it rang. She wiped her hands quickly and picked it up. "Destin Coast Guard Station, this is Betsy speaking, how can I help you?"
    Nothing but the whisper of the wind came through the receiver.
    "Hello? Hello?" Betsy asked. "Is anyone there?" She took a glance at her computer's screen. It showed that the caller was somewhere in the gulf. "Can you hear me? Please respond." Betsy's supervisor noticed, and walked over. "There's nothing on the other end," Betsy said to him.

Find the Exit

Steven Napoleon drove on in the night. The black sky had no lights dotting it, no circle of the moon. Steven did not wonder why. The tires of his car passed over the smooth, darkly reflective asphalt without sound. His headlights showed him circles of freedom beyond the windshield, and the streetlights illuminating the highway dribbled orange over his car. He was alone on the road. Neither tail lights nor headlights could be seen as he drove down the highway. It seemed to be going on for quite a while, and he wasn't very sure why he drove, but he drove.