RE: Vox Mentis
03-26-2015, 01:35 PM
Spoiler
(03-26-2015, 12:41 AM)Coldblooded Wrote: »Just get your snacks and leave. If the tall guy really wanted you dead he would have shot you back there in the snow earlier.
(03-26-2015, 12:52 AM)Schazer Wrote: »If he can shoot one girl without breaking a sweat, he would've iced you just before, yeah. After Melinda, can you really have it on your conscience to rope more bystanders into whatever the hell's going on?
(03-26-2015, 01:08 AM)Whimbrel Wrote: »ABORT OPERATION.
CHILD IN LINE OF FIRE.
THEY ARE THE FUTURE.
JUST GET THE DANG SNACKS.
(03-26-2015, 06:05 AM)Crowstone Wrote: »A child's life is on the line! Do not resist the tall man.
But most importantly
NEVER SAY NO TO FREE FOOD!!!!!
Of course, your life and the lives of others are on the line but if it ain't costing you money directly, it's free and worth it~!
The woman comes around the corner. "Katherine. Come here." The girl runs to her mother. You don't move. They pass you and head up the next aisle.
The girl says, "Mommy, why was that man sad?"
"Shh," says the woman.
~
You walk to the van, snacks and drinks in hand. You're going to let this motherfucker take you somewhere and kill you, apparently. That's where you're at. You feel furious, at something.
"Not the van," says the tall man. "We're changing cars." He nods at the pickup.
"Oh," you say.
He jangles keys. "You saved their lives." He unlocks the pickup and pulls open the door. "You made the right decision."
The truck's interior smells of cigarettes. The dash has a bobblehead doll of someone you don't recognize. Some politician. The man pulls at the door and the thump of its closure is like the sealing of a tomb.
The engine turns. Air blows from vents. "Ah!" he says. "We have heat."
"You bought that guy's truck," you say.
"We swapped." The man revs tentatively. He seems to approve of the sound and you begin to roll past pumps, leaving behind the airport maintenance van.
"Swapped," you say. "He just agreed to trade vehicles."
"Yeah." The man takes a moment to check traffic, then accelerates onto the slip road. He digs in his coat pocket with one hand. "He also threw in this cell phone."
You look at it. "Did he."
"Yeah," he says. "To sweeten the deal."
~
You reenter the freeway. It's Melinda's birthday next week. You'd been putting off going shopping. "Just give me money," she'd said, and you'd been thinking maybe you would, because she was so hard to buy for. But you might have thought of something. You still had a week. You might have found exactly what she wanted.
You remember Rain standing in the middle of the road. The strange words she spat through bloodstained teeth. The short man putting the gun to his own chin. You don't understand any of that. Maybe the tall man is a serial killer, or a terrorist, or a covert government agent, or something else, but whatever he is, he must want something. You'll have to go shopping.
The man digs the cell phone out of his pocket. He thumbs a number and sticks the phone under one ear. "It's me. Where are you?" You watch the dashboard figurine bobble. "I'm clear. Brecht didn't make it." There's silence. "Because Wolf. Because Wolf fucking turned up five seconds after we made contact." You hear a tinny voice squawk from the phone, male but unfamiliar. "Well, fuck! Whose fucking fault is that? Just tell me where you can meet. I want to get off the road." He exhales. "Fine. We'll be there." He drops the phone into his pocket.
The silence stretches on. Now's your chance to ask him any questions you might have.
The girl says, "Mommy, why was that man sad?"
"Shh," says the woman.
~
You walk to the van, snacks and drinks in hand. You're going to let this motherfucker take you somewhere and kill you, apparently. That's where you're at. You feel furious, at something.
"Not the van," says the tall man. "We're changing cars." He nods at the pickup.
"Oh," you say.
He jangles keys. "You saved their lives." He unlocks the pickup and pulls open the door. "You made the right decision."
The truck's interior smells of cigarettes. The dash has a bobblehead doll of someone you don't recognize. Some politician. The man pulls at the door and the thump of its closure is like the sealing of a tomb.
The engine turns. Air blows from vents. "Ah!" he says. "We have heat."
"You bought that guy's truck," you say.
"We swapped." The man revs tentatively. He seems to approve of the sound and you begin to roll past pumps, leaving behind the airport maintenance van.
"Swapped," you say. "He just agreed to trade vehicles."
"Yeah." The man takes a moment to check traffic, then accelerates onto the slip road. He digs in his coat pocket with one hand. "He also threw in this cell phone."
You look at it. "Did he."
"Yeah," he says. "To sweeten the deal."
~
You reenter the freeway. It's Melinda's birthday next week. You'd been putting off going shopping. "Just give me money," she'd said, and you'd been thinking maybe you would, because she was so hard to buy for. But you might have thought of something. You still had a week. You might have found exactly what she wanted.
You remember Rain standing in the middle of the road. The strange words she spat through bloodstained teeth. The short man putting the gun to his own chin. You don't understand any of that. Maybe the tall man is a serial killer, or a terrorist, or a covert government agent, or something else, but whatever he is, he must want something. You'll have to go shopping.
The man digs the cell phone out of his pocket. He thumbs a number and sticks the phone under one ear. "It's me. Where are you?" You watch the dashboard figurine bobble. "I'm clear. Brecht didn't make it." There's silence. "Because Wolf. Because Wolf fucking turned up five seconds after we made contact." You hear a tinny voice squawk from the phone, male but unfamiliar. "Well, fuck! Whose fucking fault is that? Just tell me where you can meet. I want to get off the road." He exhales. "Fine. We'll be there." He drops the phone into his pocket.
The silence stretches on. Now's your chance to ask him any questions you might have.