Arthur Bailey is an idealistic cop, just trying to do some good from inside the corrupt LAPD. When he and his partner Christopher investigate the Blood Drive, they uncover a blood-splattered slaughter rally to kick off a high-octane batshit-crazy cross-country race to the death! The master of ceremonies is Julian Slink, an underhanded and overdressed host producing the show for art's sake (and for the ratings).
Arthur is forcibly conscripted into the Drive alongside Grace d'Argento, a cold-hearted killer who's still slightly less deranged than the other drivers. Grace and Arthur have to stay ahead in the race to save Grace's sister— and to keep their heads from exploding.
I'm always up for weird violent desert/road trip stories. They don't have to be good (and they usually aren't) because it just makes me happy to spend time in that world. The sun-bleached environments, the extreme autonomy and extreme helplessness of being in the middle of nowhere, the one-of-a-kind rest stops and dirt roads...
When I hear the word "adventure", I think of swords and dragons and children's programming. Road trips are modern adventures for people who are old enough to drive. They're less likely to dutifully circle back to a moral about love and friendship. They're more likely to have horror/thriller aspects and adult conversations, but with the hint of heightened reality that comes from driving away from the structure of a town or city. Weird stuff can happen— stuff that can only happen in the middle of unforgiving nowhere. And with no career or authority or trees to hide behind, you have to focus on who you are. Who the people around you are. It's a great space to build character in, figuratively and literally.
That's my favorite kind of horror: There's no question that something weird is happening. It is, and there's no help for miles. There's no easy solution— you can run, fight, philosophize and make jokes, negotiate, join in... maybe all of those things at once. So what are you going to do about it?