Then the traffic stopped. They were about twenty miles outside of Denver when it happened. For the last hour or so, the stream of cars on the highway had been steadily increasing, slowing them down.

"Woah... How many people you think might be going to the congregation?" Vexin said, eyeing the cars around them. He retracted his wings carefully. He put his glasses back on, teal eyes concerned.

"...Way more than I expected." The flow of movement became slower and slower, until finally they were hemmed in on all sides by cars creeping along in fits and starts, no faster than about five miles an hour. Finally they just ground to a halt altogether. Ten minutes. Then fifteen, with no movement at all.

He was silent for a bit, then really became concerned. "This doesn't feel like the post-apocalyptic type of thing I used to fear when I was little." He said, but it wasn't even funny. He wasn't trying to be funny.

"Hold on." Electa got out of the truck and jumped up onto the hood. Her blood froze. They were on a slight rise; she could see miles of unmoving cars stretched out before them, glinting in the sun. Far ahead, people were standing outside their vehicles with the doors open, looking as if theyd already been there for hours. They were still more than fifteen miles away; it was a quarter past four now.

"Electa?" Vex asked slowly, concerned. He poked his head out the window, then his upper body, trying to get a view of what she saw.

"Come on," she said as she leaped off the truck and flung open the passenger-side door.

He was careful not to get hit by the top of the door as she pulled it open. He carefully got out. "Backed up all the way?"

"Yeah." Her gun was in the glove compartment; she grabbed it and shoved it under her T-shirt. Then she started to run.

He closed the door and quickly followed her.