Part 1: The Afternoon That Should Have Been Ordinary
It was supposed to be just another ordinary, uneventful afternoon on Route 66. Sunlight poured down, bouncing off the blacktop, reflecting in the windows of countless vehicles, painting the highway in a harsh, almost blinding light. I, Austin Fletcher, an American traveling back home from a client meeting, was in the right lane, letting the rhythm of the traffic lull me into a sense of calm I rarely experienced these days. Cars weaved past each other, horns occasionally blared, and the air was thick with the mingling scents of exhaust, asphalt, and distant wildflowers from the roadside.
