I took the detour without thinking much. The highway was packed, and the alternate route seemed faster. I was directed to turn onto a twisting, narrow route by my GPS. On both sides were trees with low-hanging branches. The sun disappeared behind them. The road stretched on. It twisted and curved but didn’t seem to lead anywhere. I passed an old gas station with rusted pumps. Its sign was strange, covered in symbols I couldn’t read. The lights above flickered weakly. I thought it was just an odd stop. But an hour later, I passed it again. The same rusted pumps. The same flickering lights. The same unreadable sign. My stomach sank. I checked the GPS. It showed the same road looping back on itself. I reset it, but nothing changed. “Recalculating,” it said, over and over again. I kept driving. The landmarks started repeating. A broken-down van with smashed windows. A billboard with peeling paint and unreadable words. An empty diner with a buzzing neon sign. I passed them again and again. ...