Audrik
Explorer
Fuel of the Gods - Session 6
He couldn’t exactly just turn in for the night since he was sharing a room with a man who had to all appearances crashed his truck through a wall to run himself over before removing his head with a pistol, so Agent REDOX headed to the motel office to request another room. The office was closed, however, and so REDOX was left with the prospect of sleeping in his rental truck or tracking down RAJEEV. Given his recent vehicle-related experiences, he settled on the latter.
The waitress set a plate of blueberry waffles stacked a foot high in front of Agent RAJEEV and then casually set the check on the table face down. The FBI man was pouring warm maple syrup in each square-shaped indention as his phone rang and rang. Once he finished with the syrup, the agent set his phone to silent and enjoyed his quiet dinner.
It took only a few minute for REDOX to find the only remaining member of his cell; the diner was the only place in the small town which was still open. He took a seat across from RAJEEV who acknowledged his presence with a nod.
Instead of speaking, REDOX made a show of calling RAJEEV on his phone. With the phone to his ear, REDOX simply stared at RAJEEV. The other agent simply ignored his cell member and focused on his waffles. While the phone rang, and without blinking, REDOX grabbed RAJEEV’s soda and drank the whole glass. RAJEEV continued to ignore the EPA scientist. When he had finished his waffles, RAJEEV looked up and across the table.
“What’s up?”
“ROSE and REAPER are dead, and I’m going to be rooming with you.”
“Dead? How?”
“Bullets and tires.”
RAJEEV accepted that answer, tossed some money on the table, and stood up. The agents headed back to the motel and slept the best they could. Agent RAJEEV laid awake wondering just what he’d gotten himself into. Agent REDOX should have been wondering the same, but instead, he dreamt that he drove his rental truck off the pier and along the ocean floor.
At about 3:00 AM, Agent REDOX’s phone rang interrupting his dream just as he was pulling over a ridge overlooking a vast underwater cityscape. He rolled over and answered. It was the sheriff, and he sounded upset.
Calls had been coming in about stolen cars, and then more calls about driverless cars. Those were followed by reports of someone matching Jan Bronski’s description doing funny dances in the street. The sheriff had gone out to investigate only to find his own car revving its engine in a menacing manner. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but as long as the agents were in town to find Bronski, maybe they could look into this as well?
REDOX wanted to wish the sheriff the best of luck before heading to the airport, but instead, he said they’d be right on it. RAJEEV was still awake, and so REDOX filled him in on the situation. Both agents got ready and stepped outside only to find that one of their vehicles was gone. RAJEEV’s truck was still there, but REDOX’s rental was nowhere to be seen. It was probably one of the many making the racket off to the north.
RAJEEV hopped in his truck, but before REDOX could get in the passenger side, the doors locked themselves, and the engine started. Agent RAJEEV tried to open his door, but it refused to cooperate. His seatbelt wrapped itself around and clicked in place as RAJEEV struggled to get free.
The tires squealed as the truck started to speed away. Agent REDOX had time to draw his gun and fire a few shots at the tires. He managed to hit one, but that didn’t seem to slow the truck much. RAJEEV’s hands were trapped by his sides, and no amount of force applied to the brake seemed to do any good.
The truck’s radio came on, and the volume went all the way up. Agent RAJEEV could see the sparks flying from the rim of his shredded tire, and he could hear the voices behind the static urging him to remain calm and surrender.
Agent REDOX climbed up a drain pipe to the roof of the motel to get a better view. Through his night vision binoculars, he could see about twenty or so vehicles circling the blocks around City Hall and trying to run over any pedestrians they found. He also saw RAJEEV’s truck heading west toward the beach. He watched helplessly from the rooftop as the truck dove from the end of the pier, and RAJEEV watched helplessly as the truck sank to the bottom and continued its drive.
That did it. REDOX was done with the Opera. He didn’t care how it turned out anymore. He’d played his part to the best of his ability, and now it had become a one-man show. He slid down the pipe, grabbed his bag from the room, and went for a walk out of town and down the highway. Now more than ever, he was convinced that his work with the EPA was important. Screw FOST Petroleum. Screw vile, living oil that can turn your vehicle against you. While he hitchhiked his way back to San Francisco, he called A-cell to let them know the story. He had to leave a message, but he was sure someone would get it.
As the windows began to roll down, and the cold, salty ocean slowly traded places with the oxygen in the cab, RAJEEV struggled unsuccessfully to get free. Everything was dark, cold, and claustrophobic. He could feel the water fill his shoes first, and then he felt it at his waist. The radio urged calm. It urged deep breaths and peaceful acceptance.
As the water reached his shoulders, he thought he could see shapes moving outside. It was impossible, sure, but in the pitch black of the ocean outside, he was sure he saw shapes darker still.
The radio still urged calm, but RAJEEV refused to obey. He struggled right up until the water reached his nose. He thought he felt something grab his shoulder, and he gasped in fright. As the sea filled his lungs, the radio had its way. RAJEEV was calm and at peace at last.
He couldn’t exactly just turn in for the night since he was sharing a room with a man who had to all appearances crashed his truck through a wall to run himself over before removing his head with a pistol, so Agent REDOX headed to the motel office to request another room. The office was closed, however, and so REDOX was left with the prospect of sleeping in his rental truck or tracking down RAJEEV. Given his recent vehicle-related experiences, he settled on the latter.
The waitress set a plate of blueberry waffles stacked a foot high in front of Agent RAJEEV and then casually set the check on the table face down. The FBI man was pouring warm maple syrup in each square-shaped indention as his phone rang and rang. Once he finished with the syrup, the agent set his phone to silent and enjoyed his quiet dinner.
It took only a few minute for REDOX to find the only remaining member of his cell; the diner was the only place in the small town which was still open. He took a seat across from RAJEEV who acknowledged his presence with a nod.
Instead of speaking, REDOX made a show of calling RAJEEV on his phone. With the phone to his ear, REDOX simply stared at RAJEEV. The other agent simply ignored his cell member and focused on his waffles. While the phone rang, and without blinking, REDOX grabbed RAJEEV’s soda and drank the whole glass. RAJEEV continued to ignore the EPA scientist. When he had finished his waffles, RAJEEV looked up and across the table.
“What’s up?”
“ROSE and REAPER are dead, and I’m going to be rooming with you.”
“Dead? How?”
“Bullets and tires.”
RAJEEV accepted that answer, tossed some money on the table, and stood up. The agents headed back to the motel and slept the best they could. Agent RAJEEV laid awake wondering just what he’d gotten himself into. Agent REDOX should have been wondering the same, but instead, he dreamt that he drove his rental truck off the pier and along the ocean floor.
At about 3:00 AM, Agent REDOX’s phone rang interrupting his dream just as he was pulling over a ridge overlooking a vast underwater cityscape. He rolled over and answered. It was the sheriff, and he sounded upset.
Calls had been coming in about stolen cars, and then more calls about driverless cars. Those were followed by reports of someone matching Jan Bronski’s description doing funny dances in the street. The sheriff had gone out to investigate only to find his own car revving its engine in a menacing manner. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but as long as the agents were in town to find Bronski, maybe they could look into this as well?
REDOX wanted to wish the sheriff the best of luck before heading to the airport, but instead, he said they’d be right on it. RAJEEV was still awake, and so REDOX filled him in on the situation. Both agents got ready and stepped outside only to find that one of their vehicles was gone. RAJEEV’s truck was still there, but REDOX’s rental was nowhere to be seen. It was probably one of the many making the racket off to the north.
RAJEEV hopped in his truck, but before REDOX could get in the passenger side, the doors locked themselves, and the engine started. Agent RAJEEV tried to open his door, but it refused to cooperate. His seatbelt wrapped itself around and clicked in place as RAJEEV struggled to get free.
The tires squealed as the truck started to speed away. Agent REDOX had time to draw his gun and fire a few shots at the tires. He managed to hit one, but that didn’t seem to slow the truck much. RAJEEV’s hands were trapped by his sides, and no amount of force applied to the brake seemed to do any good.
The truck’s radio came on, and the volume went all the way up. Agent RAJEEV could see the sparks flying from the rim of his shredded tire, and he could hear the voices behind the static urging him to remain calm and surrender.
Agent REDOX climbed up a drain pipe to the roof of the motel to get a better view. Through his night vision binoculars, he could see about twenty or so vehicles circling the blocks around City Hall and trying to run over any pedestrians they found. He also saw RAJEEV’s truck heading west toward the beach. He watched helplessly from the rooftop as the truck dove from the end of the pier, and RAJEEV watched helplessly as the truck sank to the bottom and continued its drive.
That did it. REDOX was done with the Opera. He didn’t care how it turned out anymore. He’d played his part to the best of his ability, and now it had become a one-man show. He slid down the pipe, grabbed his bag from the room, and went for a walk out of town and down the highway. Now more than ever, he was convinced that his work with the EPA was important. Screw FOST Petroleum. Screw vile, living oil that can turn your vehicle against you. While he hitchhiked his way back to San Francisco, he called A-cell to let them know the story. He had to leave a message, but he was sure someone would get it.
As the windows began to roll down, and the cold, salty ocean slowly traded places with the oxygen in the cab, RAJEEV struggled unsuccessfully to get free. Everything was dark, cold, and claustrophobic. He could feel the water fill his shoes first, and then he felt it at his waist. The radio urged calm. It urged deep breaths and peaceful acceptance.
As the water reached his shoulders, he thought he could see shapes moving outside. It was impossible, sure, but in the pitch black of the ocean outside, he was sure he saw shapes darker still.
The radio still urged calm, but RAJEEV refused to obey. He struggled right up until the water reached his nose. He thought he felt something grab his shoulder, and he gasped in fright. As the sea filled his lungs, the radio had its way. RAJEEV was calm and at peace at last.
