Syzygy [Risus] (IC)

[Sophistemon]

S+Y+Z+Y+G+Y

CHAPTER ONE: RED-EYE BLUES (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWoL65SexB4)

Our story opens on a nighttime bus making its way west through a vast and barren desert, bee-lining from one of America’s great cities to another as it powered through the torrential downpour of a raging storm. It was late, so late it was almost early, and the bus’s high-beams fought to slice through the sluicing rainwater. The wet dark of the storm enveloped the bus like a shroud, and though it wasn’t yet the witching hour the bus’s driver, Marty Puhlman, felt a shiver run icicles down his back.

The wipers did their best, but the rain came down in thick winter blankets so heavy that Marty struggled to see the road. “Jesus,” he swore, and then felt guilty. His mother would have cuffed him for that – not out of some sense of Christian decency, but because the Puhlmans were Jewish and good Jews, so spake mother Edna, did not use that name. Marty’s mother had been a good Jew. She’d been the kind of woman who would have followed Moses through all 40 years of the desert and only kvetched when they stopped to make camp. Marty, by comparison, was a lousy Jew. He doubted he’d have made it a month; two, tops. That was perhaps why he’d spent so much of his life crossing a very different desert. Day after day, year after year, he’d driven his bus from one end of the great desolate sand-trap to the other. He bounced, like a ball, from city to city and never felt at home in any of them.

His passengers were sleeping, a luxury he could not afford. He envied them, stretched out and snoozing on the padded seats. As their driver he was confined to a very narrow schedule, a leash that chafed against his need for nightly shuteye. He fought back as best he could with chemical help. Coffee and NoDoz did the job well enough for the most part, and he’d sometimes sneak a snort of this or that when the legal stuff wasn’t enough. No, Marty was a lousy Jew – but he was a very good bus driver.

It was 11:24 at night when his latest dose ran out and Marty began to feel the insistent scratching of exhaustion at the door of his unconscious. The steady rain and hypnotic swish-swoosh of the wipers didn’t help. Ten minutes later Marty peered into the dark, eyes squinting behind his glasses, and failed to suppress the yawn that forced his eyelids shut. It was then he drifted off, just for a moment before the sensation of falling snapped him awake again, but it was enough. His mind reeling, the wheel twisting like a snake beneath his hands, Marty reached for the glove-box and retrieved his bottle of tablets. He took them dry, crunching pills like bitter beetles between his teeth to wake himself up.

He needn’t have bothered. As of 11:34pm, sleep was the very least of Marty Puhlman’s worries.


You, however, sleep through the night. You are blissfully unaware of the storm’s apocalyptic climax, protected as you are within the embrace of your automotive cocoon. Dawn comes without warning, and the heat of the rising sun erases rain from the desert’s memory. Your slumber is rudely interrupted by a ragged, determined shout that ejects each of you, one by one, from the relatively safe harbor of your dreams.

“Wake up!” a man is bellowing. Dark haired and thickly built, you recognize him from the night before. He’s another passenger, and you recall he’d spent the evening taking what he must have thought were surreptitious sips from a whiskey bottle crudely wrapped in a brown paper bag. Eventually, he’d finally drunk enough to fall asleep not long before you did. “Wake up!” he shouts again, pointlessly. His eyes are red and rimmed, evidence of the hellacious hangover he must be feeling. “We’ve got a problem here; the driver’s missing!” It’s true, you quickly notice. Glancing out the window, you see the bus has been parked at an angle at the side of the road so that countless miles of desert wasteland stretch out in all directions. The driver’s seat – you can still picture the man who sat there in your mind’s eye – is ominously empty.

OOC Thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?566329-Syzygy-Risus-(OOC)).

[Artemis97]

Maria Quetzalli sits bolt upright from where she had been leaning against the bus' window in her seat near the front. She pushes her dark hair out of her eyes and glares at the man who was yelling. What did he mean the driver was missing? Surely they'd just stopped somewhere. Maybe he really had to go to the bathroom or something and had to pull over. She looks around, out the window. Shouldn't they be closer to the city by now? How long have they been stopped? Maria checks her watch for the time, before getting up and stretching. She then heads for the back of the bus, to check the restroom for the driver, and maybe to use it herself if it's unoccupied. Always had to go to the bathroom after sleeping so long.

[Aardvark 001]

Katie jerks awake and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. The journal she'd been reading had fallen to the floor at her feet. She picks it up and looks at the man shouting in the aisle.

"What do you mean he's missing?" she snaps. "Have you checked outside? There was probably a problem with the bus and he stopped to fix it." She stands up and stretches her legs, aching with inactivity. What time is it anyway? Maybe the guy just fell asleep outside. Maybe someone should check...

[Spectre_j]

Andy heard the shouting, but, for a moment, he was somewhere else. Men screaming, crying. The smell of the damp, the pungent scent of rotting vegetation, and the blood. You could almost taste it on the air. "God," he thinks, "why is there so much bloo-"

He awakens with a start, heart racing and coated in sweat. His eyes taking a moment to focus and adjust to the bright sunlight filtering in. Waking mind catching up to what his sleeping one had heard, he looks to see that, yes, the driver is gone. Standing up, he adjusts his jacket and smooths the front in an attempt to surreptitiously check for a shape made of blued steel. He cleared his throat, "I can take a look around outside." Looking out he sees the desert, stripped of any sign of last night's rain. The ground and vegetation greedily drinking in what water was left before being banished by the rising sun. He slides out of his seat and takes a deep breath, immediately registering the smell from the open window: dry, not damp. Desert, not jungle.

[Destro_Yersul]

Michael Williams woke when the shouting started, but didn't say anything right away. Instead he unfolded himself from the slightly uncomfortable position he'd fallen into while sleeping and looked around the bus, taking stock of the situation and letting himself fully wake up. He brushed at his suit, trying to smooth out the wrinkles that formed while he slept, and looked out one of the windows. If the driver was out there they ought to see him, it was so flat and empty. Reminded him of home. He smiled, a winning salesman smile if ever there was one, and stood. Then, still without speaking, he went over to the driver's seat to see if there was any indication of where the driver may have gone.

[Blarghy]

Like his fellow passengers, Daniel didn't worry at first. If anything, he was more concerned with this loud drunkard who seemed rather high-strung. Someone like that, so prone to panic, wouldn't do so well in the desert. How fortunate that the man was only here for a bus ride, and not a longer voyage on foot.

"Yeah, probably just fixing the bus," Daniel nodded toward Katie. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, stretched his long arms and legs, and maneuvered to the central aisle. "I'll go too," he told Andy. "The driver might need some more hands; I bet he just didn't want to wake us." He followed the older man outside and drank in the lovely morning, so familiar after having risen to similar conditions every day for the past few weeks.

Only when he was outside the bus did Daniel notice Andy's sweat-slick skin. The desert had a way of doing that--although it was still so early, and the man had only just come into the sunlight. "Are you alright, sir?" Daniel asked. I hope he's not another heavy drinker like that other guy; one is plenty, thanks.

[Sophistemon]

Maria looked down at her watch, squinting slightly to see the numbers through the glare of the sunlight pouring through the windows. It was a few minutes after 11:30 in the morning, which confirmed her suspicions that they were well behind schedule. A trickle of concern settled in her stomach when she considered the time. Though it wasn't too hot out yet -- just warm, but not quite that scorching desert heat -- it would soon be more dangerous to stay inside bus than it would to venture outside. With the engine off they lacked climate control to keep the temperature down, and at least outside there was the change of a breeze. Maria stood, stretched, and made her way to the bathroom at the back. She had to move past an elderly black woman to get to the toilet. The woman met Maria's eyes, excused herself from the aisle, and smiled.

"I don't think he's in there," she said. "I haven't hear a peep from the powder room in the time I've been awake."


The shouting man faced Katie, eyes narrowed in annoyance at her questions. "I mean he isn't here," he grumbled. "How hard is that to understand?" He shook his head. "And, yeah, I looked outside! Like I'm some moron who panics for no reason!" He turned his back on her and stomped toward the front of the bus, muttering something foul under his breath about the very specific kind of jerks who leave people stranded in the middle of the mother-loving desert.


The red-eyed man passed Andy as he stomped back to his seat, then turned to face him. "Don't bother," he spat. "I checked out the windows and he ain't out there." Andy could smell last night's whiskey on the man's breath, as well as the sour reek of old sweat and unwashed clothes. "What kind of man just leaves people, huh?" The drunk was gearing up for a rant, and Andy could tell. "I mean, he takes our money and just leaves us at the side of the road? What kind of scumbag does that?"

Smiling cautiously, Andy made a move to head outside regardless. The drunk, still clearly incensed but not at the veteran in particular, let him pass with only one further comment: "Sure, just ignore me. What do I know, right?"


Michael, who was seated opposite Andy and could therefore avoid the drunk while he ranted, stood and inspected the driver's seat after his own glance out the windows at the endless beige expanse of the desert. There was some scrub-brush and a few hillocks here and there, but for the most part the desert was singularly uniform, split in half by the gentle weave of the road. The driver's seat offered no clues as to the whereabouts of its former occupant. There was a comfortable looking groove in the leather which retained the shape of Marty's bony buttocks, but no sign of the man himself. A small placard bolted to the dashboard displayed a grungy photograph of the man, his name, and his employee information. The photo was unflattering, and made Marty look like the kind of man you wouldn't trust your children with. The glove compartment, which would have normally been locked, was hanging open.


After attempting to console Katie, Daniel stood and followed Andrew to the door, stopping only briefly when the drunk interrupted them to start his tirade. Daniel himself managed to bypass the red-eyed man, who was still growling obscenities under his breath as he stomped the length of the aisle in search of someone he could complain to, without incident. The heat of the desert sun felt glorious against his skin as he left the still tolerable interior of the bus, and he felt invigorated by the natural beauty of the region. He took a few steps and stood beside Andrew. A moment passed before he spoke his question.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Glovebox is open," Michael said, mostly to himself. He had a southern accent, which sounded like it had come from a good deal East of where they currently found themselves. It was the sort of voice that managed to sound friendly no matter what it was saying, another trait that had probably helped the salesman. He took a brief look in the glovebox, checking to see what, if anything, was in it, then returned to his investigation of the dashboard. Were the keys in the ignition? Did the bus have gas? In a pinch, one of the passengers might be able to drive the bus themselves.

[Spectre_j]

Andy stepped out of the bus into the bright sunlight. He could hear the kid coming out behind him. "Kid," he chuckled to himself, shaking his head, "I was younger than him my first tour."

"Are you alright, sir?" The Kid asked. Andy looked over at him. Scrawny, wild red hair and the kinda beard you grow when you need to convince everyone around you you're a bonafide adult. "Fine," He replied, "Just needed fresh air."

Taking a few steps, he stopped and put his hands on his hips. He didn't see any sign of, well, anything. Just sand and scrub-brush. In the jungle, men could vanish. The dense vegetation could hide almost anything. Out here the tallest thing was a cactus, with no foliage to obscure the landscape. If the driver were nearby, he'd be visible. Unless, of course, he wasn't on his feet, and that was a different kind of problem.

Time was against them. They themselves were stranded, and their driver might be in distress. They had no idea how long they had been stopped, where precisely they were, or what shape the bus was in mechanically. Andy decided that it was best to focus on one problem at a time. Specifically, the driver. He didn't know him from Adam, but Andy was a medic. He hadn't left a man behind yet, and he wasn't about to start.

[Blarghy]

Between Michael's discovery and the angry lush, Daniel started to worry a little himself. "Would the driver just leave?" he asked quietly. "Why? Where could he even go?" If they were closer to civilization, then he might see some cruel logic in robbing the bus and leaving its inhabitants stranded, but so far they had no evidence that Marty took anything except himself, and in any case, why would the man just go wandering off in the wasteland?

Daniel grabbed a handful of his shaggy red hair and squeezed it, a nervous gesture, before shaking his head and climbing onto the bus's hood, then up to its roof. From this higher vantage point, he looked hard in all directions. He hoped to spot the driver, of course, but failing that, he also searched for landmarks. Anything that could tell him where they roughly were, or perhaps a spot they could use for better shelter, if necessary.

[Aardvark 001]

Katie frowned at the drunk man as he sat down, muttering angrily to himself. Why would the driver just leave? In any case, if he had just left them how were they meant to carry on with their journey? Had he left the keys? Did buses even have keys?

She shook her head. Too many questions. Not enough answers. She got up and walked out of the bus, into the heat of the desert. Her jacket was too warm but she refused to remove it. Instead, she clambered on to the roof with the guy who's spoken to her before. She scanned the desert for footprints, signs - anything that could to point to where their driver had gone to.

[Artemis97]

"How long have you been up?" Maria asks the woman. "Do you have any idea how long we've been stopped?" She'll still check the restroom, just in case the driver had passed out in there or something. Wouldn't make much of a peep then.

[Sophistemon]

Michael searched through the glove compartment, shifting through the detritus and withdrawing only the more interesting items, which he laid out in a small pile on the seat. Among these items were a half-empty bottle of NoDoz caffeine pills, a dog-eared copy of Frank Herbert's Dune, an unopened box of condoms so old they couldn't possibly still be any good, and a small plastic bag containing a child's handful of white powder. Notably, the glove compartment contained neither gloves nor the anticipated portable flashlight. Perhaps it had, and the driver had taken them with him when he left. As for the dashboard? It was devoid of clues; no note, no keys, nothing at all that might indicate the driver's location.


Andrew watched Daniel ascend the bus to scan the horizon, and turned his own attention back to the desert. The driver must have left in the middle of the night, he concluded. Or at least while it was still raining. He knew this because he couldn't spot any footprints leading away from the bus. The only prints he could see, still stark against the desert sand, were his own and those of his fellow passengers. A picture started to form in his head, only half-baked, but plausible. The driver must have had a reason to leave them behind in the middle of a dark and stormy night -- they just needed to find out what it was. And then, armed with that reason, they might find and return the driver himself.


One might think, standing on the roof of a bus, that they could see for miles and miles across the flat cracked surface of the desert. But the heat of the place makes such a thing impossible, the haze of refracted sunlight bringing the horizon closer than it should be and hiding distant features behind a cruel distortion. There was a creaking thump as Katie joined Daniel on the roof, and he was startled despite himself. He'd spent time in the desert; he was no stranger to its dangers. But he was missing something now that he'd always had with him before, and he felt its absence keenly. It was a way out, and its loss was gnawing at the pit of his stomach. The woman -- not too much older than himself -- was mimicking his stare into the desert, shading her eyes with the flat of her hand. She was wearing a jacket far too thick even for the mid-morning. If she wasn't careful, she'd overheat and hurt herself.


The black woman smiled at Maria and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, only since that fool there started yelling some minutes ago," she admitted. "But even if the driver was taking a whiz he'd have been out by now, don't you think? Especially with all of the commotion." Her warm eyes saddened and she inclined her head towards the drunk, who'd returned to his seat and was staring mournfully at the empty bottle he'd extracted from its bag. "I've known men like him. He's feeling the kind of lost the drink won't help him out of." The old woman's eyes met Maria's, and the young woman felt a bizarre thrill. "I'm sorry, dear, I've been rude; my name is Mable. Mable Mulberry Jones. I'm pleased to meet you." She extended a hand, thin and bony as a sparrow's wing, for Maria to shake.

[Spectre_j]

Figuring that answers most likely lay on this side of the road, Andy walked around the bus to investigate the desert beyond. The driver couldn't have gone far. There was, in Andy's mind, no good reason for the driver to go more than a dozen yards or so away from the bus. Mechanical trouble? No, he thought, Why would you walk away from the bus for that? Medical distress? A lot of these long-haul drivers used amphetamines to get through the long, dark, stretches of highway you found driving through the night out West. Had the West coast turnarounds gotten the better of him?

The man had been older, from what he could remember. Likely been driving that bus, or one like it, for years. If he had stopped, in the middle of the night, with sleeping passengers, he'd have tried to stay close. Or at least that's what Andy told himself.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Well now, ain't that interesting," Michael said, regarding the little bag full of white powder. He had a couple guesses what that might be, and left it alone. The box and the book were similarly discarded as useless. The title seemed appropriate for the location, but he'd never read the book and the giant worm on the cover convinced him it wasn't likely to be filled with survival tips. The pills were another matter, and the salesman slipped them into a pocket when nobody was looking. Never knew when those might come in handy. There were no keys, though, and without keys he couldn't start the bus. Stepping away from the driver's seat, he straightened up and looked around. How many other passengers were there?

[Artemis97]

Maria accepted the offered handshake, her own hands somewhat rough from her time working under the desert sun. "Maria Qutezalli, nice to meet you, too." The Mexican woman looked back to the tiny restroom. "It's if he's in there and didn't or can't hear us that I'm worried about." He might be passed out or OD'ed or dead, for all they knew. She'll nod politely to Mable, then move to check the door.

[Blarghy]

Slowly, Daniel swallowed hard. Even though he had more than a decade of survival skills, he'd never actually been stranded, and now panic was beginning to set in. He grabbed his hair again, this time with both hands, and looked across the desert once more, hoping that this time he'd see something different. When he didn't, he turned his wide eyes to Katie.

"Why would he just leave us?" the young man asked. His voice cracked a little. "I...I don't even know where we are! Whether it's closer to go back the way we came, or to keep moving ahead..."

Without waiting for a response, he made his way quickly back to the ground, almost falling, and drummed his palms anxiously against the engine cover, probably already getting hot from the sun. "Can you pop the hood?" he called to Michael. "If the driver was working on it...maybe he...didn't have the right tools, so he...tried to walk for help, or..." Daniel trailed off; even desperate as he was for answers, he knew how unlikely his theory was.

[Aardvark 001]

Katie pursed her lips and kept her eyes on the horizon, seeing the haze rise from the bus in a shimmering mirage. The catch in Daniel's voice was worrying. They couldn't afford to go to pieces out here. They had to get out of the desert, and the only way to do that was on the bus, driver or no driver.

She clambered back down just as Daniel was speaking to Michael. 'How about we try to start the bus up first? If it works then we don't need to pop the hood. We can just get the hell out of here.'

[Sophistemon]

Mable returned Maria's nod and shook one of her birdlike hands in a "shoo, shoo!" gesture, encouraging her to go and check the restroom for their missing driver. Maria, polite enough despite her worry, rapped her knuckles against the door. It shook beneath her knocking, rattling in the frame, but no one answer. She called out for the driver, once softly and then more forcefully, before she tried the latch. The door swung open on oiled hinged to reveal nothing more than the cramped confines of a bus's bathroom and the bitter scent of chemical sterilizers. More disappointment hit Maria than she'd been expecting, crashing into her like a wave -- but she was pleased to see the bathroom came equipped with a sink, which meant it had at least some supply of running water.


A sudden thump shocked Michael from his inspection of the bus and the counting of the seven passengers. There, on the opposite side of the windshield, were two younger people looking in at him. One, Daniel, was suggesting they pop the hood and inspect the engine. The other, Katie, interjected that they should attempt to start the bus before poking around in its guts. Michael glanced back at the dashboard, looking for the hood release lever, and noted the time on the little clock set beside the speedometer. It was 11:34 exactly, the second hand pointing straight up at at the 12. Michael's eyes narrowed when, after another second passed, that hand didn't move. He reached out a finger and cautiously tapped the glass protecting the clock face, and a bitter chill settled in his stomach when time insisted on standing still.


As Andy paced, thinking, his eyes caught the sun as it rose steadily higher in the sky. As the day grew later, their troubles would increase with the temperature. The jungles of Vietnam had been hot, there was no denying that, but there had been such moisture in the air you hardly ever needed to drink. The desert was different; breathing here was like opening the oven door and getting a lungful of baked heat. The medic bit his lower lip and gazed down the serpentine stretch of road. As he turned to head back, his stepped down on something that crumpled beneath his feet. Frowning, he dropped into a squat and retrieved a square of plastic from the ground. It had a broken metal clip on one edge and inside was Marty Puhlman's identification card, complete with a scowling black and white photograph.

[Destro_Yersul]

"No keys!" Michael called back. "Can't start the bus unless somebody fancies a go at hotwiring. Gimme jus' a minute here..."

He searched for the hood release, popping the engine compartment and heading around the front to speak to Daniel and Katie. "Dashboard clock's dead at 11:34. Either of you got the proper time? Bus like this, they like to keep 'em to a schedule, so probably whatever it is caused the driver to up and go, that's what stopped the clock."

[Artemis97]

Maria sighs. Well at least the guy wasn't dead in the bathroom. She steps inside and shuts the door, availing herself of the facilites. The archaeologist considers the water in the sink, or more accurately in the tank somewhere under the bus. Was it potable? She washes her hands using a minimum of water, not knowing how long they'd be stuck out here, before exiting out into the bus again.

Seeing Michael at the front of the bus, she calls out. "Hey, is there a radio? They have to communicate with the home base somehow, right?"

[Spectre_j]

Andy felt his stomach drop. He stared at the surly visage of Marty Puhlman and his gut told him that, beyond the obvious "stranded in the desert with a missing person" problem, something was seriously off. This was the feeling he had always got right before the **** hit the fan, and he had seen that happen often enough that he knew to trust that instinct.

Standing up, he looked out into the desert one more time, What dragged you out there, Marty? he wondered. Andy turned back to the bus. The Kid was looking at the engine with a pretty, black-haired woman. Maybe we can get this bus moving, get help, he thought. Walking up to stand beside the Kid, he held up the ID card. "I found this", he said, "I think he's still out there, somewhere, and, this might sound crazy, but I'm not entirely sure he went willingly."

[Blarghy]

Dismayed, Daniel shook his head to both of Michael's comments; he didn't have a watch, and he definitely didn't know how to crank the bus without its key. He felt even worse when Andy came up and showed him the ID badge, along with his disturbing theory.

"You think somebody took him? Why? How? Without waking anybody else up?" The idea unnerved Daniel and set his mind to thoughts of rescue. That, at least, was a nice shift from directionless panic; the more Daniel thought about it, the more he realized that no matter the cause of the driver's disappearance, he still was out there somewhere, very likely in even more danger from the desert than they were. At least the bus had some supplies and a degree of shelter.

"...We can't just leave him," he muttered to Andy. "I'm gonna take a look at the First Aid kit. See if it's fully stocked. Just in case." But what we really need is a good plan, he thought to himself, which was a taller order.

He heard Maria's comment when he stepped back on the bus; it gave him a flash of renewed hope. "Yeah, the radio!" he agreed enthusiastically. "Check the radio! We can just call for help!"

[Sophistemon]

While Michael attempted the radio, Daniel searched for the first aid kit. It took him a few minutes to locate it tucked up under one of the padded benches that serve passengers as both seat and bedding. It was a battered green metal box left over from the early 1970s, but it appeared to have been rarely if ever used. The scout unclasped the lid to reveal a few rolls of clean white bandages, some bottled disinfectant, suture needles, the requisite thread, and other odds and ends of keeping people as alive as possible until real medicine can be performed. As he inspected the interior of the kit, an old black woman sitting a few seats away called out to him. "Excuse me? Could you help me up, please? These knees of mine aren't what they were." She smiled ruefully at the young man and then indicated the box he's working through. "I hope we won't need any of that," she says. There was a touch of something heavy in her voice.


While Daniel searched for the first aid kit, Michael attempted the radio. It took him a few minutes of fiddling with knobs and pressing buttons before he finally stumbled on the proper combination almost by accident. When the radio clicked on, there was a pregnant buzz -- like a thriving hive -- followed by a rush of static that reminded the salesman of the rain they'd driven through the night before. He turned the tracking knob slowly, seeking signal, before he finally heard a woman's voice finishing a word, the number 6. He stoped quickly, pulse rushing, and turned the dial back. Only static remained, rushing like water. Michael grumbled a curse beneath his breath and the muscles in his hand prepared to turn the dial further when, as if by Providence, the message repeated (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUvOZqJusvg). The red-eyed drunk started with a jerk and rushed on unsteady legs to the front of the bus. "That's a... what'd he call them? A numbers station! I know a guy back home with a CB radio and he'd play them for us at the station. F***ing weird, aren't they?"

[Destro_Yersul]

"They are strange, yes. There's a few out where I'm from." Michael listens to the numbers for a few seconds, checking where on the dial they appear, and then looks for other stations, or any way to use the radio to broadcast instead of just recieving. "That friend of yours. He ever show you how to use one of these? I admit, it ain't my strong suit."

[Spectre_j]

Andy felt some regret about shaking up the Kid like that. But he stood by what he said. Something had gotten Marty out there, and that same something had made him disappear. If he had succumbed to amphetamines, or even cocaine, he'd have ended up close to the bus. Cardiac arrest would've prevented him from making it far. Coyotes wouldn't have drug off a full grown man, either. They'd have left something behind, and not just an ID. The likely scenarios mostly accounted for, all that was left was the unlikely.

At the far end of that spectrum was abduction by Martians or maybe the Rapture his grandmother had always rattled on about when he was younger. But Andy was more concerned with reality than reverie. Marty seemed to have gone into the arid expanse beyond the bus, and he sorely wanted to know why.

Just then Andy caught the sound of radio static. "Finally," he thought, "Maybe our luck is turning around."

[Blarghy]

I guess this is better than nothing, Daniel thought. Even without an emergency so far, he felt a little better knowing what he had to work with, just in case the bus driver was hurt out there, or perhaps if their bad luck continued to get worse. He, like Andy, perked up when he heard the radio crackle, but the subsequent absence of real conversation brought his hopes low again.

Then the elderly woman got his attention. He came over quickly; helping old ladies was a favorite pastime for a former boy scout.

"Happy to, ma'am." He put the kit down in a nearby seat and carefully helped her stand. "Me too," Daniel agreed, "but at least the box is stocked. I wanted to make sure before anything happens." He looked around a bit ruefully and added, "Wish there was some wood to knock on."

[Artemis97]

Maria frowns at the sound of the radio. That definitely wasn't the home base of the bus company. She slips up to the front of the bus. "Can you broadcast out? Is there a microphone?" She wonders.

Maybe the bus driver just liked those weird stations, maybe on another frequency they could get a hold of the bus company or the police?

[Sophistemon]

The drunk looked at Michael, red eyes scanning him from head to toe before he noticeably decided he wasn't being mocked. "I mean, nah?" he admitted. "He treated the damn thing like it was his kid or something; wouldn't let none of us other guys mess with it. But I've always been kinda good with my hands... I could take a look, see what I see." He cleared his throat and looked at the others in and immediately outside the bus's cabin. "Yeah, 'scuze me here, pal." He edged passed Michael and examined the dashboard himself, tutting and clucking as he pored over the buttons and knobs. "S***. I don't see any kinda outgoing radio; there's no microphone here or anything. If that ain't a Godd*** design flaw, right?" He huffed a frustrated sigh and moved to fiddle with the instruments. "But maybe I can adjust the reception, get a better signal? If nothing else, some music'd help the mood." His fingers moved with the delicate steadiness of a surgeon's as he manipulated the radio's controls, and eventually the static faded away, like water draining, to reveal the bizarre numbers station (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUvOZqJusvg) playing on every station on the dial. Ralph swore, something more vulgar this time, and twisted the knob this way and that in search of something else, to no avail. "That doesn't make any sense," he said, and looked up at each of the nearby passengers in turn before standing. "Every station saying the same thing? That doesn't make any sense!"


The old woman accepted Daniel's help happily and gave his cheek a brief pat of thanks when she was upright. Her skin was cool and soft despite the steadily rising temperature within the bus. Her voice was kind, but convicted when she spoke. "None of that pagan stuff, kiddo," she said. "God's watching, you know." She glanced skyward as she spoke and smiled softly. "Even now, He's watching over us. We'll be out of this mess in no time, you'll see. Why, I bet the driver's on his way back right now with whatever he needed to fix the bus." She gave Daniel's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and her grip was surprisingly strong. "Keep your chin up, son." She looked back at the kit. "Finding that was smart. God helps those who help themselves. Were you some sort of scout? Most everyone else was getting panicky, but you went looking for solutions -- that's good."

[Blarghy]

Daniel smiled uncomfortably at the old woman's praise and optimism. I wish I was that confident, he thought, feeling lingering panic despite what the lady claimed about him. "I hope you're right, ma'am," he more or less agreed. "But I wonder if God expects us to do the rescuing this time. If the bus driver is out there in the desert, he might be the one who needs help."

Curses from the front of the bus drew his attention, and with a polite nod, Daniel excused himself to check out the situation. "That's so weird," he mumbled, puzzled at the available stations. Then he shook his head and added, "But it seems like the important thing is that we can't call for help, right? We could wait a little longer on the bus driver, but if he's right--" Daniel pointed toward Andy, "--then we need to go find that man, fast. I dunno why he left the bus in the first place, but even if he had a good reason, he could've gotten hurt or lost. I say a few of us should stay here in case he comes back on his own, and everybody else starts looking. Standard search and rescue."

Wish we had dogs. And radios, too. And more people. And a flying unicorn, while I'm at it. No point in wishing; all I can do is use what we've got and make the best of it.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Mighty strange," Michael agreed. "And no microphone means no calling for help. Thanks, though..." he paused, quirked his head. "Why, I neglected to get your name, friend. My apologies. I'm Michael."

He shot a look at Daniel, when the younger man suggested splitting the group. "I think it best if we all stick together for the time being. Search and rescue has radios, so the two groups can stay in contact. He can't have gone far. Somebody found his wallet, right? Thought I heard that. Which direction was it in? That'll be the way to go first."

[Spectre_j]

Andy agreed with Daniel: they needed to search for Marty. He also didn't want to waste time arguing or debating theories. Something was up, and they needed to figure out what. "With all due respect, friend," Andy began, addressing Michael, "We might not have radios but we can still cover a lot of ground even if we stay within sight of the bus. We don't need radios for that. There's plenty of sun, and a mirror makes a great signal. So if one of these ladies has one handy, me and the Kid will go out." He turned to their youngest passenger. "You with me?"

[Artemis97]

"I should have a mirror or two in my purse. Compacts and the like." Maria offers, going back to her seat to grab her bag. It was a big thing, made of sturdy leather, full of all the things a woman might need throughout her day, and maybe more, since she was traveling. "I think one of us should try flagging down a passing car, too. They could drive someone to the next town or a bus stop, or at least a payphone?"

[Sophistemon]

The old woman peered at Daniel through the thick lenses of her glasses. Her face was placid, perhaps contemplative before she nodded. "From the mouth of babes," she admitted, and smiled. "You may be right." When the cursing started, and the young man excused himself to find out what was going on, the old woman may have surprised him by keeping pace with his steps. "What is that?" she asked, hearing the numbers station repeat through the bursting static of rapidly changing radio channels. "Does that count as music nowadays? Can't say I'm a fan."


Ralph's face twisted into something ugly and he slammed a gnarled fist on the dashboard with enough force to rattle some of the instruments. "F***!" he swore. "Like my week isn't bad enough, now this s***." Hearing Michael's words, he took a deep breath and composed himself. "Hell, I'm sorry. My name's Ralph; Ralph Barton. It's been a hell of a week, you know? I was hoping maybe the trip'd be easier than the reason for going." He looked back at the dashboard and saw the fuel gauge. "Huh, there's still half a tank in there." Turning to address everyone, he cleared his throat. "I dunno what you want to do, but I'm going to take a look at this hunk of junk and see if I can get it running again. I work on the engines at the station all the time; there can't be too much difference."

The old woman, hearing Ralph, stepped forward. "Hi, all. My name's Mabel -- Mable Mulberry Jones. I'm pleased to meet you. I don't know how much good I'd be on a search, but I could keep an eye out for passing cars, or the police, while our friend here looks at the bus. Would that be all right?"

[Destro_Yersul]

"Pleasure to meet you both," Michael said. "I'll see what I can do to help Ralph with the bus. I ain't much with machines, but I've picked up a thing or two and I'm a quick study. Whoever joins the search party, make sure you stay in sight of the bus. Wouldn't do to get lost out there."

[Blarghy]

Daniel frowned at all Ralph's cursing, which was making him increasingly uncomfortable, especially with old Mabel right there. He did like Andy's idea, though. "I'm game," he agreed. He fished through one of his pockets and added, "I don't have a mirror, but I do carry a whistle. Easier than shouting for attention. I'll grab the First Aid kit, if nobody minds, just in case."

With the box under one arm, he stepped down out of the bus, squinted at the light, and draped his jacket loosely over his head and shoulders to help block the sun. "We should take some water with us too. Even if we're not out long, the bus driver might need it. Better safe than sorry, anyway." He didn't have a canteen, unfortunately, but surely there was a bottle somewhere on the bus.

[Artemis97]

"There should be footprints in the sand, showing where he went." Maria suggests. "And I think I have a water bottle in here. I know I've got a big jug in my luggage, if we can get into the luggage compartment, I'd lend you guys that." She digs through her purse again, producing a half drunk bottle of water, and a compact with a mirror, and a small folding brush that had a mirror in its handle.

[Sophistemon]

A light-bulb went off in Ralph's head and, shoulders hunched, he excused his way through the crowd and returned to his seat. After digging around in his things for a bit, he returned with an empty liquor bottle retrieved from its brown paper bag. Once he noticed the water Maria was holding, he loped off the bus and handed it to Daniel. "Here," he said, struggling to smile. "I bet you can fill it from the sink in the back. You, uh, don't have to worry about getting sick or nothing. I'm clean, and it was pretty strong stuff anyway." He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and looked down the road, to the shimmering horizon, before turning back to look the way they'd come. "What do you think?" he asked. "The way I figure it, he probably went back the way we came from, otherwise he would have pressed on, right?" He paused a moment, thinking. "Unless we totally broke down and he had to stop here." He frowned, and his lips carved the expression into the stubbly crags of his face.


While the plans were being made, Mable Mulberry Jones took Maria aside and fished for something in her own large, cavernous purse. She brought forth a folding knife of prodigious size -- no mere penknife with a two-inch blade, this would unfold to nearly five. "I want you to take this, sweetheart," she said. "He seems like a nice boy, but sending a girl like you out in the wilds with someone you don't know doesn't sit right with me." She smiled, teeth white against plum-colored lips. "And, well, you never know what else could be hanging around. A woman's got to be prepared, you understand. For anything and everything that can happen."


After handing Daniel the bottle, Ralph returned to the bus and got Michael's attention. "I want to open the hood and take a look before things get too hot to handle," he said. "While I'm in there, you feel like checking the tires? Might be we got a flat. That's probably the best we can hope for, seeing as how we've still got half a tank of gas in there. See if you can find a toolbox, too. There's got to be one somewhere, or I'll be Godd***ed. If there's something off about the engine, maybe I could jury-rig us a way to a station somewhere down the road." His voice dipped low, conspiratorially. "You don't always need keys to get something started. I had a cousin show me how. If I can fix it, I can get it running."


Ralph then turned to Andrew and motioned to the bus's open door. "You heading out with the others? The kid's already looking around." After hesitating for a moment, he looped an arm around Andrew's shoulders and guided him back a bit, away from anyone else. "You take care of them, okay? They're just kids; we old guys need to be on the look-out. The desert's no joke, and kids think they know everything about everything. Are you any good when there's trouble? If something happens out there -- coyotes or snakes or whatever -- can you handle it?"

[Spectre_j]

Andy shook himself from his trance, sizing Ralph up again, reevaluating the man he had thought just a drunk a short bit ago. He nodded. "We dealt with a lot worse in the jungle, and I've got experience keeping the young from an early grave." Andy moved to take the offered bottle of water and compact, offering his gratitude "Thank you, ma'am. This helps an awful lot." I need to get out there, keep that kid out of trouble, He thought. Andy got the feeling the Kid had a good head on his shoulders, but like Ralph said, a little knowledge and the overconfidence of youth could be a dangerous thing.

[Artemis97]

"Oh I completely agree." Maria recalled a small swiss army knife she had in her bag, but it was nothing compared to this. She takes it gratefully and pockets it.

She'll offer the mirrored brush to Mabel. "Here, flash that at us, if something changes and we need to get back. I'll keep an eye behind us. We'll signal back when we see it. We'll signal if we find the driver, or need help. Probably both, if we do find him."

[Blarghy]

Not my first choice, Daniel thought as he refilled the liquor bottle. He didn't dare waste water to thoroughly wash it out; he wasn't sure what, if any, filtration system the bus had, so anything that went down the drain might not be coming back. They'd just have to live with a hint of alcohol; the passengers had more pressing concerns anyway, and besides, hunger made the best spice. That probably applied to drinks as well. If the bus driver was thirsty enough, he'd never notice.

So, armed with the bottle, First Aid kit, and his knapsack--Daniel doubted he'd need his hatchet; he more strongly anticipated having to rip up his spare clothes for tourniquets--he waited anxiously for the rest of the search party. "Everybody ready?" he called out. "The longer we wait, the hotter it gets."

[Destro_Yersul]

The hotter indeed. It was already pretty bad inside the bus, and Michael welcomed another chance to get out of the metal furnace. He popped the hood for Ralph first, then went around looking at all the tires as suggested. While he was out there, he checked the luggage compartments to see if they were locked.

[Sophistemon]

Mable smiled warmly at Marie and then flashed those pearly teeth at Andrew when he approached. She passed Marie's compact and water bottle to the man and tilted her head towards the other woman. "Those are hers," she explained. "I have my own mirror, don't worry; I'll be sure to make a calamitous ruckus if something happens." The smile faded, though the kindness never left her eyes. "You folks be careful out there, okay? Don't wander further than you can run to get back and don't go picking fights with the animals. I've heard some stories about desert critters that I don't like one bit." Images of spiders, snakes, and scorpions flashed through the old woman's mind with such intensity that her younger audience could almost feel it themselves.


With the engine compartment opened, Ralph left the bus and circled around to inspect the monstrous innards of the comatose machine. While he poked and prodded in search of some explanation for their unscheduled excursion, Michael made his way to each tire, inspecting them for punctures. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the tires appeared to be in serviceable condition. Sure, they looked perhaps a few months past their replacement date, with well-worn treads and the occasional piece of cracking rubber, but they weren't flat or in danger of bursting. At least we'll be able to drive out, Michael thought, once Ralph fixes what's wrong with the engine. Wiping his forehead, Michael then made his way to the luggage compartment and found it locked.

[Destro_Yersul]

Well, that was inconvenient. Likely the key was on the same missing keyring that started the bus. The lock probably wasn't overly complicated, though. Before Michael tried anything else, he'd have a go at popping it himself.

[Artemis97]

"I know what to watch out for." Maria assures Mable. "So long as you make enough noise, the snakes and the bugs get out of your way. We won't go digging in any holes, either." She promises.

The spanish woman adjusts the strap on her purse, carrying it across her body and nods to the others. "I'm ready to go, if you are."

[Sophistemon]

The search-party grouped together and, after a brief discussion wherein they discussed the allocation of resources, returned to the area where Marty Puhlman's identification tag had been found. Calling upon his experience as a scout, Daniel determined that the driver must have set off further in the direction they'd been heading. "There must be a town or a gas station that way," he said. "He must have driven this route a thousand times, right? He'd know where all the stops are, and would head to the closest place he could get help." It was rational, realistic thinking -- enough so that even the veteran was nodding his head -- and the group set off down the road. The sun was at that point getting high in its arc, and it wasn't long after they set out that sweat began to bead on their foreheads, backs, and crevasses. It was a dry heat, and the group began to lose moisture by the moment. It wasn't long after that, maybe after only fifteen minutes of walking or so, that they found the flies. A great black swarm of the things, buzzing and churning around a crumpled mass laying beside the road.


Michael grumbled at the locked luggage compartment, then returned to the glove box to retrieve an ancient and forgotten paperclip. Bending it into a more suitable shape as he walked, he stomped back to the lock and quickly picked it open. Someone's duffel bag nearly toppled loose of its containment, but the salesman caught it gracefully and set it in the sand. After removing the luggage from the compartment, not the lease important of which was his own bag, Michael found a battered and well-worn toolbox tucked into a corner behind the last of the bags. Chuckling to himself, he took the box and walked over to Ralph, who he found elbow-deep in the bus's mechanical guts. True to form, the man the swearing, but stopped when the salesman approached. "What've you got there?" he asked, then huffed a laugh. "I'll be damned, I was hoping we'd find one. Don't know that it's going to do any difference, though. Come here and look at this." He withdrew from the engine and moved aside for Michael to peer in. "You see that?" he asked.

[Artemis97]

Maria's nose crinkled at the sight of the flies. "Oh that's not good." Please be an animal, she prayed, please be an animal. Not one to be squeamish, she'll step forward to take a look at what poor thing ended up on the side of the road.

[Destro_Yersul]

"What am I looking for?" Michael asked, stepping up to look into the compartment. He'd left the luggage where it was, only bringing the toolbox for now. They could retrieve their bags in short order, once the search party returned. He didn't mention that he'd managed to open the luggage compartment just yet, thinking it would be best to take on one problem at a time.

[Blarghy]

Unlike Maria, Daniel could only stop in his tracks and look wide-eyed at the cloud of hungry insects. It would be a tall coincidence to find a large, fresh carcass unrelated to their search at this time, given the environment. Perhaps the bus driver killed this beast himself, but Daniel doubted it. He expected to see something awful if he kept walking; the young man had never witnessed death quite like this, and he didn't want to, either.

He turned his nervous stare toward Andy, then back to watch Maria and gauge her reaction when she got close enough to see for herself.

[Spectre_j]

Andy saw the Kid stop out of the corner of his eye, his feet unwilling to move him closer to the swirling black mass of flies. But he pressed on. He had never left a man behind, but not all of them had made it out of the jungle alive, and the tropical heat and humidity bright the rot and the flies fast. It was not an experience he was keen to relive. "Damnit, Marty," he thought, "You gotta make it out of this."

[Sophistemon]

Bizarrely enough, Daniel would have been the first to recognize the shape beneath the buzzing, seething swarm of hungry flies. Gagging on the scent of putrefaction, Andrew peered through the motion of insects to see what looked like a very large, very badly mutilated dog. It took him a few moments more to realize he was looking at a bear with its right front leg torn free of the shoulder with enough force to rip a strip of flesh loose from the chest. The wounds pulsed with half-burrowed maggots squirming wetly in the desert sun. The sight of them, too similar to other deaths he'd seen, caused Andrew's gorge to rise until he tasted bile in his throat and turned away to retch.


Ralph chuckled at Michael's question. "Not a car guy, huh? That's all right. Kind of a lost art these days, anyway." He waved a hand at the engine. "You're looking at this. At all of this." The engine, tubing, and assorted organs of automotive locomotion looked to be none the worse for wear, and the salesman said so. "That's the point!" Ralph groaned. "It's f***ing clean as a Godd***ed whistle in there. Look here, it's even got a service sticker." He pointed to a small rectangle of orange paper stuck to the interior of the hood, which indicated the bus had been cleared for duty only a few months ago. "Please tell me you found something wrong with the tires, because otherwise I don't have a d*** clue why we'd be stuck out here."

[Artemis97]

"Oh thank god." Maria breathes, though she regrets inhaling the stench of putrefaction. It causes her to gag, and she starts very deliberately breathing through her mouth. "What the heck is it?"

[Spectre_j]

"It's a f***ing *BEAR*", Andy said, wiping a hand across his mouth and straightening. His brain was in a tailspin. How had a bear ended up in the desert? More importantly, how had it died? Did it have anything to do with its missing arm? More questions, and no answers. Images cascaded through his brain. Michael. Evan. Roscoe. Johnny. Johnny had only been 18 when he died. Andy remembered the chopper taking off for his first patrol. His only patrol. Andy was the one to find him after they inspected the ambush site. He had gotten free of the clearing, and stepped on a mine. He looked a lot like that bear, missing both limbs on his left side, covered in flies and maggots and everywhere the awful stench of- Andy shook himself, took a deep breath and knelt down to try and inspect the carcass through the seething mass of insects. He HAD to keep it together. He had been through worse.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Well hang on now," Michael said, straightening up. "You mean that there's no reason for this old girl not to start? There's nothing wrong with any of the tires. Why'd the driver up and leave, then? What say we have a go at getting her running. If that doesn't work, well, may be we have to start walking. At least we know which way."

[Blarghy]

Listening to his companions, Daniel finally joined them; as gruesome as this sight was, he couldn't help but feel relieved. He'd seen many dead animals in his life, even made a few, and other than the unpleasant smell, this wasn't so bad. He was more curious than disgusted.

"...How did it get here?" he echoed Andy's thoughts. "And that leg...it had to get ripped off by some kind of machine. No person could do that. Most animals couldn't." In his head, he pictured a vague possible scenario: game wardens transporting a bear across the desert, its cage falling from the back of the truck, a leg getting tangled in the wheel, something along those lines. Regardless, Daniel decided that it probably didn't matter for the matter at hand.

"Either way, I don't think this has anything to do with the bus driver. We need to keep looking. Weird as hell, though."

He checked around for tracks or other clues that might lead them onward.

[Sophistemon]

Andrew stooped down to inspect the carcass, his stomach heaving at the smell of it. The wound was anything but clean, with no sign of knife-work or sawing. The limb looked to have been torn free of the shoulder in one savage motion with the dismemberment leaving a pale, off-white stump of bone that protruded from the tortured mass of ugly red meat. With a wary hand, the veteran shooed some flies away from the body's torso. The bear wasn't wearing a collar, or anything else he could see that might have identified it as coming from a zoo, or a national park, or wherever else bears might come from. What, then, was it doing in the middle of nowhere? A thought came bubbling up from the back of his brain. What lived in the desert that could do this to a bear? A fly returned, danced nimbly across the dehydrated contours of the bear's left eye, and then buzzed off. Andy stood, feeling sick in a variety of ways.

Daniel's keen eyes scanned the horizon and landed on something man-made a bit further down the road. There, partially obscured by the curvature of a small hill, he spied the top of a billboard. It was too far away to make out any writing, but the sight of something made and maintained by human beings filled the young man with a surprising surge of relief. Billboards mean places, he thought to himself. And places mean people! He gently nudged Maria and guided her eyes to what he saw, hoping she'd confirm it as something other than mirage.


Ralph ran a large hand up over his forehead and through his hair. It came back damp with sweat, which he wiped away on his shirt. When he looked at Michael, his eyes were solemn. "I don't know," he said. "But I'm going to have questions for the driver when we find him." He didn't voice the option of if they found Marty, which he wasn't yet ready to consider. "I'm willing to give hot-wiring it a shot, but if something goes wrong... we might not ever get it started. That's a one big damn hell of a risk." Suddenly, without warning, something thumped loudly against the roof of the bus. From within, Ms. Mabel Mulberry Jones let out a croaking shriek of surprise and appeared at the door a moment later.

"Did you hear that?" she called. "Something hit us!"

[Artemis97]

Maria peers in the direction Daniel indicates. "Oh it's a sign! Maybe it'll tell us where we are. Or if there's a place nearby." Excited, she presses on. "As weird as that thing is, it's not our driver. It's not going to help us get out of here. We can call fish and wildlife when we get back to civilization."

[Destro_Yersul]

"I heard it. Question is, what was it?" It hadn't appeared yet, and Michael listened for anything that sounded like it might be moving around up there. If there was nothing further, he'd just climb up on the hood and have a look. If, on the other hand, he could hear something up there, then he'd retrieve his suitcase first. His gun was stashed in there at the moment, and he wanted to have it on hand if whatever had hit them was potentially dangerous.

[Blarghy]

"She's right," Daniel agreed, relief creeping into his voice. "The bear's definitely weird, but we've got bigger problems. Let's see what's up ahead!"

He took off after Maria, quickly at first, but then he remembered to pace himself. Just in case they didn't find help or more water, Daniel didn't want to exhaust his body in such an inhospitable place. The desert was unforgiving to the careless.

[Spectre_j]

Shielding his eyes, Andy looked where they were hurrying off to. There was something in the distance, but he knew that the heat played tricks with the eyes.

Andy was reluctant to follow the other two. Something had mutilated a bear and was still out there. He followed after them, slowly, deliberately. Head on a swivel and hand inside his field jacket, feeling a shape made of blued steel. He had no intentions of being caught by surprise.

[Sophistemon]

It took a few more minutes of walking, but eventually the travelers got close enough to what had looked like the upper edge of a billboard to recognize it as an advertisement sign. GAS HAVEN, it pronounced. LAST STOP 200 MILES, it went on. COLD BEER, it concluded with a helpful arrow pointing the way further down the road. Pure, sweet relief flooded the veins of the search party. A gas station would have food, drink, other people, and a phone to call for help. This was, in a very literal sense, a good sign.


Ralph held his breath while Michael listened, stone-still, for any sounds of life. It came slowly, a shuffling thump on the roof of the bus, but it was there. A scraping, shuffling, thump. Ralph narrowed his eyes and glanced at the other man. "The hell is it?" he asked, but Michael was already heading for his suitcase. He carefully retrieved his firearm and stored it in his pocket before returning to the front of the bus. Ralph gave him a confused look. "Where'd you go?" he asked. "What're you doing?" Michael raised a finger to his lips and climbed up on the hood. Slowly, carefully, he peered up at the roof. There, staring him in the eyes, was a mottled, molting turkey vulture. The bird hissed, startled, and scrabbled backwards several feet before spreading its wings to intimidate. Looking closely, Michael could see that one of its toes was missing, the wound still red and bleeding, which explained the shuffling gait.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Just a bird," Michael said, hopping back down from the hood. "Big old vulture. Looks like it's been injured, but I can't say what by."

Now that he was more sure nothing was immediately going to attack them, he'd go back to his luggage and fetch out the gun's holster, as well. He could put it on under his jacket, though really taking off his jacket might be the best idea. It was hot out here, and he didn't want to be overheating.

"Haven't heard back from the search party. You suppose they've found our friend the driver?"

[Blarghy]

"Yes!" Daniel shouted in delight, throwing his hands in the air and almost dropping the First Aid kit. "We're fine. Everything's fine. We can get a ride to go back and pick up the others and organize a proper search for the bus driver. Or maybe he's already at the gas station!"

With help so close, this time he couldn't help but move faster, nearly jogging down the dusty road. Crisis averted!

[Spectre_j]

“Hot damn, that’s a sight to see!” Andy exclaimed. He couldn’t help but feel a burst of hope and at excitement at seeing the sign. It was almost too good to be true. They’d get help, provisions and be back on the road by days end. He could get away from the sight and smell of death. Get to the city without losing anymore people, and this would all be just a strange footnote in their lives.

[Sophistemon]

With the idea of salvation almost in sight, the search party proceeded down the road at an accelerated pace. The sun shone brightly overhead, baking the asphalt beneath their feet and soaking their backs in sweat. The repurposed bottle of lukewarm water got passed from hand to hand, barely sating their thirst before it was half empty. Hope was a powerful motivator and their imaginations ran wild, calling to mind thoughts of cool drinks, warm food, and telephones. They passed the Gas Haven sign and stared down the winding length of road before them, which disappeared into the horizon.


Ralph coughed a sarcastic laugh. "Vulture, huh?" He looked up, to the roof of the bus. "F*** off, you; we're not dead yet!" The bird made a noise in response, a cackling hiss. With a flutter of greasy wings it hopped down off the roof and landed on the hood, startling Ralph backwards a few steps. "Jesus," he said, and frowned. The vulture regarded him, and Michael, with cold black eyes for a moment before it heaved, its entire body contracting. Its raw, naked throat bobbed up and down before it vomited a thin stream of foaming yellow bile to boil on the hood. Laying in the center of the vomit, curled in a ring, was the bird's own severed toe. Ralph blanched, disturbed, and stepped forward to shoo the vulture. "I've had enough," he grumbled. "Get out of here, you --" he paused and looked up as a shadow passed overhead. Circling above the bus, descending in a spiral, was an entire kettle of vultures. Ralph turned to Michael with an unfamiliar expression on his face. "That ain't good."

[Artemis97]

Maria was optimistic, but warned caution. "Let's take it slow, guys. We've still got a long walk ahead of us. And it's practically noon. Don't exhaust yourselves." She was particularly concerned for the older folks in the party, and hoped Miss Mabel was doing alright back at the bus. Maria turns and looks back in the direction they had come from. "Maybe one of us should go back and tell the others what's going on?"

[Destro_Yersul]

"What are they here for?" Michael wondered aloud, looking up at the circling birds. "We're not dead."

He paused, looking around at the vast empty desert surrounding them. He bent down, looked under the bus to make sure nothing was lurking down there. Then he straightened up, regarding the pile of luggage yet unclaimed. "You think we ought to get after the others? All of them buzzards make me nervous."

[Blarghy]

"I don't know if we should split up again..." Daniel hesitates. "But I guess it's easy to just follow the road back to the bus, if you want to. I'd rather get to the gas station and hitch a ride back, myself. It's up to you."

He stares at the long, dusty asphalt ahead of them. "I hoped it'd be closer..." Drying some sweat from his face, the scout forces himself to take Maria's advice and moderate his pace. The desert has a way of teaching patience--or makes examples out of the slow learners.

[Spectre_j]

Andy looked back and saw the vultures circling above the bus. He was inclined to agree that maybe someone should head back, but decided that he didn't want to this small search party to shrink any further. "I think they can manage back there," Andy said, "besides, something ain't right out here. Unless you've forgotten the bear? No one goes anywhere alone, alright? Heads on a swivel, let's get this done and get everyone safe." Part of him worried about freaking them out, but unless they had nerves of steel that was a foregone conclusion. The itching between his shoulder blades hadn't gone away, despite his elation at seeing the sign. There was strength in numbers, and he didn't want to abandon the other two, who were almost certainly weaponless, to whatever was out here.

[Sophistemon]

The vultures descended in a spiraling line to land, one by one, on the roof of of the stranded bus. The smell of one of the scavengers was all but unnoticeable in the open air of the desert, but by the time there were over a dozen of them in close proximity Ralph was nearly coughing on the reek of oily feathers, desert dust and old blood. The one on the hood was staring at him, those beady black eyes unreadable. Ralph took a step back, raised his hands. "Fine, you jerk; keep your secrets." He turned to Michael and arced a thumb backwards over his shoulder. "I've never seen anything like this before in my life. The f*** are they just standing around for?"

Mabel huffed from the door, incensed at his language. "Young man," she scolded. "Weren't you raised to watch your mouth when there's a lady present?" She looked at Michael, and her eyes softened. "I don't like this," she said. "Mother Nature has her ways, knows things we can't. The vultures might be a sign of something coming, something bad." She stared out across the desert, at the hot and winding road down which the others had tramped not long before. "Maybe we should follow after them? See if they've found help somewhere along the way?"

Ralph scoffed. "No offense, lady, but you don't look like you'd last twenty minutes out of the shade." The old woman quirked her head and looked at him with her mouth in a thin line.

"I've survived things you wouldn't believe," she said.


The search party had stopped to stare back the way they'd come at the descending cloud of vultures landing one by one on the roof of the bus. Vague feelings of unease began to lap hungrily at the insides of their stomachs, a wholly unpleasant sensation. The asphalt baked beneath their feet, and they could feel its warmth worming through the rubber in their shoes. It was only getting hotter, somehow, though it seemed impossible. Already their clothes were matted with sweat, the salt itching against their skin. Already their throats were dry, their tongues sticking like chewed gum to the roofs of their mouths. It was a foregone conclusion at this point -- they had to move forward, toward salvation, or salvation might become impossible. It wasn't long after they crested another hill and there, in the valley below, was the Gas Haven. It was a small station, with only four pumps and a squat building to attend them, but at that moment it was like manna from Heaven, or even Heaven itself. It was close, no further away than three quarters of a mile, if that.

[Blarghy]

Daniel's breath hissed out through his teeth as he watched the distant vultures descend on their stranded friends. "We're not the only desperate life out here," he mumbled. "But we'll just have to disappoint the scavengers today." He continued on with renewed purpose.

When they finally saw the gas station, he clapped twice with relief. "Almost there," the teenager said in a dry, raspy voice. "Almost there."

On their way down into the valley, Daniel greedily scanned the parking lot for signs of life. Surely there was at least one car there. Even if they were the only customer, the Gas Haven had to have an attendant. Their mixed luck so far today made him fear that the place might be deserted, but Daniel didn't even want to consider such a possibility.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Well, I can't say I know of anything bad could come while calling down a pack of buzzards as its herald," Michael began, "but that don't mean I like it. Let's head after the others. Ralph, you mind helping me lug a few of the bags? We might need our things."

[Artemis97]

Maria glanced back at the bus and then down the hill at the Gas Haven. They'd lose sight of the bus if they kept going down, and what was with those birds?

"Are those vultures?" She wonders. "They only go after the dead or dying, as far as I know. This doesn't bode well. We should move a little faster, maybe." Now that they were in sight of the gas station, she felt a little safer.

[Spectre_j]

"No," Andy said in reply to Maria's spoken thoughts, "It's not, and we should move faster. Can't go back, not now, and we need to get out of this sun." Putting words into action, he quickened his step.

Andy couldn't shake his anxiety. He'd fought a lot of demons since coming back from the war, but this was different. Crazy as it might sound, He was starting to get the feeling that this desert didn't want them leaving.

[Sophistemon]

Stop for a moment and think about the vast multitude of businesses that could disappear, practically overnight, that you would never miss. You might regret that they were gone, in a lost opportunities sort of way. You might mourn a brief period of inconvenience, if your day to day life took you outside of the average circles. Consider now the humble gas station, and how much more difficult -- borderline impossible -- your life would become if they ceased to be. If the invention of the automobile created the modern world of the 1980s then the gas station must therefore keep it running, in a way both figurative and literal. When you need to top off the tank, grab a bite to eat or a drop to drink, or just need an emergency bathroom break, gas stations are there to serve you. And in the case of an emergency, you can almost always count on finding a phone. Gas stations are a sort of sanctuary, all but functionally identical from sea to shining sea. They're an island of normalcy in an ocean of chaos.

The asphalt of the Gas Haven parking lot was baked gray from the sun, the painted lines worn away by years of wind, rain, and tire friction. A beaten blue Ford pickup truck sat silently beside one of the pumps, its owner unseen. Closer inspection revealed the fuel door was open and the cap removed. The fuel nozzle was hanging limply from its hose, the metal tip scraping back and forth across the ground as it moved with the breeze. Another car, an off-white Buick, was parked at the side of the building proper. Presumably, this belonged to the attendant. You wouldn't need more than one man to run a place like this, not this far out in the desert. The lights were on, inside and out, and a sign on the door cheerfully declared YES! WE'RE OPEN!


Ralph assisted with the bags in a way that Michael began to realize was very true to his nature -- he took more than he had to, squaring his shoulders to handle the burden. The burly, red-eyed drunk glanced at the old woman and then turned away, rolling his eyes. "End up carrying her, too," Michael could hear him grumble. When he looked at the salesman, however, Ralph's expression softened. "Feels pretty good to be doing something, doesn't it? I can't stand just standing around doing nothing. Isn't how I was raised, and it isn't how I raised mine. I've always said, you're not a man unless you're a man of action."

Mabel responded before Michael could. "I couldn't agree more," she said, and pulled at the zipper of her suitcase. It opened easily, and she dug through it for a moment before retrieving both a towel and a pair of slim silver scissors. "You two finish doing what you're doing. I'm going to cut some strips and soak them in water. It's going to be a walk, and we'll need something to keep us going." She stood, her knees popping like corn on the stove, and returned to the bus. Ralph watched her go, eyes confused.

"You know," he said, "I think I could get to like the old bird."

A few minutes later, however, Mabel reappeared in the doorway and called out to Michael. "I'm sorry, young man, but do you think you could give me a hand?" She held up the scissors, and they glittered in the sun. "These aren't going to do it."

[Artemis97]

Maria was grateful to reach the worn out parking lot of the gas haven. But something was off here. Why was the pump nozzle just left hanging like that? Maybe the truck's owner was inside? They were probably paying for their gas or something.

"Hello?!" Maria calls out. "We could use some help here!"

[Blarghy]

"Oh, thank God!" Daniel didn't even notice the oddities of the pump nozzle, so comforted by the presence of multiple cars and running lights. He made straight for the building; air conditioning was calling his name, not to mention something cold to drink! The college student had his wallet out before he even reached the door. Vaguely, Daniel remembered their missing bus driver and fellow passengers back along the road, but all that could wait until he soothed his torrid throat.

[Spectre_j]

Andy couldn't suppress a surge of hope and joy at finally reaching the gas station, even as his anxiety peaked at the queer sight of the unattended nozzle, emotions rising and swirling to a manic crescendo. Physically, this manifested as an excited jog towards the door and a hand inside his coat gripping the almost unnaturally (in this heat) cold frame of his revolver. Let this be the end of it, he thought.

[Destro_Yersul]

"But of course," Michael said, with a nod to Ralph. He was coming to like Mabel as well. "Do believe I've got a pocketknife somewhere around here. After that, we should head after the others. Might be walking for a bit, but we'll catch them up eventually."

[Sophistemon]

Maria's shout echoed loudly in the still air of the desert. Her call received no answer in return but the cheerful jingle of a bell as her companions, sharing none of her concern, rushed for the Gas Haven door and pushed it open. Daniel was the first to enter, and he felt nearly overwhelmed by a rush of emotion when cool air brushed over his skin for the first time in hours. Andy followed after him and they stood there, on the welcome mat at the entrance, taking in what they saw.

The interior of the Gas Haven was clean and brightly lit by overhead florescent bulbs. In addition to the air conditioner, which they could hear rumbling somewhere in the building's belly, a series of ceiling fans spun lazily, stirring the air and keeping it fresh. In front of the two men, stretching to the far end of the room, were aisles of various foodstuffs and travel essentials. To the left, along the wall, were row upon row of refrigerated beverages and an entrance to a unisex restroom. On their right was a counter, behind which were packages of cigarettes, chewing tobacco, lottery tickets, and other sale-restricted items. Further along that wall were two doors. The first, closet to the counter, likely led to the small repair garage built into the side of the Gas Haven. The other door, further back, probably led to some sort of administrative office.

Normally, an attendant would have been standing behind that counter, greeting customers as they entered and directing them to their needs. At the moment, however, it was currently unoccupied. In fact, if not for the two men standing in the doorway, the entire building appeared to be empty. It was immaculately clean, as though tidied only recently, but empty. The ceiling fans spun in lazy circles, exciting the cool air, and the refrigerators hummed merrily against the wall. The sounds were familiar, comforting. It was almost exactly like every other gas station the men had ever been in.

Maria kept herself in the parking lot for a moment. She spun in place, slowly, her eyes narrowed and staring.


The greasy black birds let them go without a fight. The vultures sat on the roof of the bus, dark eyes staring, watching silently as the trio left their relative sanctuary and entered the desert. The heat fought them from the word 'go,' and the weight of the bags they carried dragged like lead. They each wore a strip of soaked towel around their neck, and when their throats dried they could pull up a corner and suck warm water from the fibers. This helped sooth parched mouths and cracking lips, but the journey to meet up with their fellow travelers was arduous and long. Mabel, tough old woman, tried her hardest to keep up with the two younger men. Age, though, has consequences, and it was a common thing for Michael to slow his steps even further so that she could catch up with him. Ralph was not so inclined, although whether this was because he was being deliberately rude or was simple focused on his goal was hard to determine. Regardless, he quickly pulled ahead of the others.

They didn't speak much after leaving the bus. For starters, there didn't seem to be much to say, as they had only one direction to walk. Additionally, the effort to speak could be better spent moving one tired leg in front of the other. Occasionally, they passed a series of footprints left by the other group where enough sand had blown across the road. This affirmation that they were getting closer, they they hadn't yet seen signs of trouble, gave them hope.

There was a sound, a rapid exhalation of air, and Michael turned to see Ms. Mabel Mulberry Jones sitting down at the side of the road.

[OOC update.]

[Spectre_j]

Andy was stunned by the cool air, feeling like an arctic wind compared to the oppressive desert heat outside. He took a tentative few steps forward, looking around, ears straining to listen for the other human beings that had to be here somewhere. Two vehicles outside, one at the pump, there were at least two people here. "Bathroom?" he thought. He moved toward the restroom, realizing that his hand was still on his gun. He hesitated for a half second, then resolved not to let his guard down, tightening his grip on the cold steel. Making the last few steps, he lifted his left hand to knock on the door.

[Sophistemon]

Something about the truck didn't sit right with Maria. While some people might be brave enough to leave their vehicle unattended after filling up so they could head inside for a drink or a quick visit to the facilities, the truck's owner had left the gas hose hanging limp, where it might scrape against the rough asphalt and cause a spark. She walked towards it, hung the hose from its hook, and peered inside the truck's driver-side winder. There, thrown haphazardly on the seat, was a ring of worn keys.


While Andy made for the bathroom, Daniel's keen ears picked up a bizarre sound. It was low, barely audible, but it pricked at him until he felt compelled to pursue it. Eventually, he found the source: it was an old radio, plugging in and gently buzzing on the counter, its volume dial turned down so low it was emitting little more than an electronic hum. Daniel reached out, hesitated, and then turned the dial up. The radio blared (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUvOZqJusvg), filling the Gas Haven with an eerily familiar station.

[Artemis97]

These were, Maria presumed, the keys to the very truck they sat in, but that was a really great way to get your car stolen. She looked around again for the owner or an attendant. "Hello?!"

Not finding anyone answering her call she follows the others into the gas station, where the radio blared. "Oh not that again!"

[Destro_Yersul]

"Easy there, Mabel," Michael said, striding over to kneel beside the older woman. "You alright? I'm sure they can't be that far ahead of us, and I'm not about to let you fall behind. Wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me, would it?" He flashed one of his winning salesman smiles at her. "I'll give you a hand up, if you think you can keep going."

[Blarghy]

Daniel quickly turned the radio back down to a near-silent hum. "It's just a...numbers station, Ralph said?" he reassured Maria--and himself. He laughed nervously. "But it's ok! Doesn't matter now. We're home free. I'm gonna get some supplies."

Down the aisle he went, leering over the beverages like a hungry wolf. Jugs of water were Daniel's primary target; if possible, he returned to the front counter with one in each hand, went back for another pair, and then started collecting food. Snacks and other junk weren't his style; a loaf of bread and sandwich meats, or even just peanut butter in a pinch--one wouldn't expect a convenience store this remote to actually be too convenient--suit him better.

"Wish they had tomatoes," Daniel muttered. "I'd kill for a good BLT right now."

Fortunate or not, once his scavenging was done, the young student drummed his wallet against the counter. "The attendant's probably in the bathroom," he nodded to Andy, trying not to be impatient. "Or...maybe that office in the back?"

If they hadn't seen results by this point, Daniel moved to check that theory. "Hello?" he knocked politely. "Can we get some help, please? We're in kind of a bind today, actually."

[Sophistemon]

There was no answer to Andrew's knock, and he entered the men's room without further delay. It was dark inside for lack of windows and he fumbled for a moment searching for the light switch. When he found it, the overhead bulbs came to flickering life. One of them needed replacing, and would dim from dingy yellow to dirty brown every fifteen seconds or so. There was no sign of anyone else, and Andy breathed a sigh of relief. The restroom was about as clean as a public bathroom could be -- the proprietors of the Gas Haven obviously took some pride in their business -- but it bore the expected damage. Andy could see signs of petty vandalism and graffiti before he even stepped into a stall. For example, someone had carved a malformed and off-center swastika into one of the mirrors with a key or penknife. Beneath it, in hard straight-edged letters, they'd scrawled 'JEWS OUT.' Someone else had responded in kind, engraving 'YOU FIRST' in the glass below that. The 'I' had been dotted with a Star of David. The veteran smiled; having seen similar exchanges in nearly every public restroom he'd ever entered in his life, the bizarre tit-for-tat made him feel oddly at home.

Daniel's scavenging was moderately successful, although he didn't really find anything he'd set out to gather. He failed to procure bottled water, for example, but found an abundant selection of soda-pops and cheap beer. Neither did he find deli meats and cheeses, but he managed to scrounge together enough cheap white bread, beef jerky, potted meat, and mustard to feed a small army. Leaving his findings on the counter, Daniel approached the office door and knocked. He said his piece and waited a moment for a reply, but there was one. He knocked again, growing impatient, but was left without an answer. Finally frustrated, Daniel tried the knob -- and found it locked.

Maria stood for a moment and watched the two men go about their business, Andrew disappearing into the restroom and Daniel rounding up the makings of a lackluster lunch. With little else to do, she approached the counter and took one of the sodas. The tab popped with a satisfying hiss and she drank deeply, pausing only to swish it in her mouth to wash out the taste of desert. When she'd finished the can, she set it back on the counter. Her eyes caught a clock hanging from the far wall, and she frowned. The clock claimed it to be 11:34 in the morning, but that didn't seem right to her at all.


Mabel returned Michael's smile with one of her own, though it was weary. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I just need a minute. I wasn't expecting the heat to hit me so hard." She tried to chuckle, but it turned into a sputtering cough that she covered with hand. "I think it's the air," she said. "It makes it hard for me to breathe. I've walked longer just for exercise before." Some distance away, Ralph realized he was walking alone and turned around. Scowling, he dropped the luggage at the side of the road and jogged back, puffing angrily as he went. When he arrived, he wiped his dripping forehead with the back of his arm.

"The hell are we waiting around here for?" he asked Michael, and then looked down at Mabel. "Are you all right? Can you make it the rest of the way?" He didn't want to say it, but he felt their options were limited. If she couldn't get herself going again, what choice did they have but to leave her? At best, someone would have to stay behind to keep her talking until help arrived.

"I just need to catch my breath," the old woman told him. She looked back at Michael. "Just give me another minute, please, and we'll be on our way." She took her strip of towel, tucked a corner in her mouth, and sucked water from the thread. After a few deep breaths, she nodded. "There. Help me up." She held out a hand and waited for Michael's help.

[Blarghy]

"Where the hell is everybody?" Daniel muttered in a mix of frustration and concern. He returned to his disappointing collection of food, fidgeted for a minute, and then lost what remained of his patience. He dropped his cash on the counter and started carrying bottles to the restroom. Their original contents didn't matter; the boy scout chose beverages for their cheapness and size, because he was only going to pour them down the sink.

"We shouldn't be drinking soda out here," he explained, in case his companions wondered. "Definitely shouldn't take alcohol." Daniel rinsed out, then refilled, each bottle from the faucet. He guzzled one for himself before topping it off again.

"...Hey, is there at least a phone somewhere in here?" he called out.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Sure thing." Michael helped the old woman up. "You can manage with your luggage?" The salesman was already carrying a lot, but he was used to it. He hadn't always been in insurance, and sometimes a salesman needed to carry large, heavy samples.

[Artemis97]

"There's probably a phone behind the counter." Maria suggests, but doesn't move to get to it yet. There was still a chance someone could be here. But the numbers station and the time, wasn't that the same time it had said on the bus? It had to be well passed noon by now. She'll check her own watch against the time.

"There's a truck out there with the keys on the seat. It's begging to be stolen, I hate to say. I don't know where the owner is. Nor do I know where the gas station attendants are. I haven't checked the garage, though." She adds with some hope.

[Spectre_j]

Andy heard the crackling of the numbers station. He exited the bathroom as Daniel emptied and filled various containers with water. He had heard him knock on the door in the back. He walked to it and considered the door itself, the frame and the knob. A solid kick would probably get it opened. "No," he thought, "Secure the perimeter first, then we'll worry about what's back there." Grabbing a bottle of water on his way to the front door, he downed it in one long pull, set it down and braced himself for the heat again. "I'm gonna check around the back," he announced, "Make sure things are copacetic."

[Sophistemon]

Daniel stood alone in the empty bathroom, filling pop bottles with water. The sluicing hiss of the faucet was the only sound he could hear, and it carried throughout the room. The restroom sinks weren't very large, and Daniel had to hold the bottles at an angle to get them filled. The excess water that didn't go neatly into the mouth of the bottle fell below, running over his hands and into the bowl, where it drained at a steady pace. Sighing, the young man looked into his own face, reflected in the mirror before him. He looked tired, his features drawn, and he was filthy with road dust. In the lower left corner of the mirror, scrawled in permanent marker, someone had written FOR A GOOD TIME CALL AMY, following it with a ten digit number. Daniel was about to chuckle at the crass normalcy of the invitation when he heard something rattle, softly, in one of the stalls behind him.


Getting no answer from the restroom, and left alone in the main building once Andrew left to peruse the surrounding area, Maria stood silently for a few moments before she went to check behind the counter. She found the phone without incident; it was an old, formerly white plastic appliance worn to a foul-looking yellow by age and constant use. Decorated as it was by years of greasy fingerprints, she was loathe to touch it. A shelf built into the rear of the counter held some other surprises, though. First and foremost was a red cardboard box filled with .38 Special ammunition. Lifting the lid, Maria saw that six rounds were missing -- but she couldn't find the gun. Next, she found a small metal hook screwed into the wood of the shelf. She surmised it was meant to hold the attendant's keys, but these too were missing.


The heat hit Andrew with such intensity that he immediately regretted his decision to head back outside. It was so different from the jungles of Southeast Asia. Both were hot, almost impossibly so, but at least in 'Nam the heat came with moisture that had nourished his lungs even as it drew the sweat from his back. Here in the desert he could feel himself drying out bit by bit, and it was clear the bottle he'd downed would only keep him going for so long. Still, he had his mission, and it wouldn't take him long to circle the station and head back inside. As he walked, he was struck by how quiet it was, how eerily peaceful. Nothing moved, not even the wind; it was as though time had stopped, and he was disturbing something with every step he took. Eventually, Andrew reached the rear of the building, at a junction where gas station met repair garage, and found a weather-worn dumpster tucked into the corner. Great patches of green paint had flaked off over the years, leaving rusted metal showing through like scabs on a gangrenous limb. A great cloud of black flies rose up as he approached, buzzing angrily. The smell hit him like the heat of the desert. It smelled like the bear.


Mabel gave Michael a wan smile, took his hand, and managed to hoist herself back up. Her knees popped as she staggered back to balance, and she winced with the shock of pain. "I... I can try," she says, with no small degree of hesitation. At Michael's side, Ralph rolled his eyes, bent down, and retrieved the bag. He grunted as he lifted; no wonder the old woman was worn down! It felt like she'd packed a load of bricks in her luggage.

"I've got it," he groused, already feeling the strain in his arms and not looking forward to hefting the bags he'd brought for himself. "Let's get going while the getting's good."

Suddenly, there was a great commotion behind them, in the direction of the bus. Whirling around to look, the three could see the kettle of vultures lift into the air, wings flapping wildly to scrabble for altitude. Squinting into the distance, Michael thought he could see a plume of dust rising above the road, and it was getting closer. Something was barreling down the deserted highway, and it was heading straight for them.

[Blarghy]

Raising his voice over the water, Daniel agreed, "Oh, the garage! That's a good idea! Hang on; I'm almost done in here!" He filled the rest of the bottles from this awkwardly-fitting sink and finished by washing most of the dust off his face and out of his hair. Dripping but somewhat refreshed, Daniel glanced back at the noise behind him, initially without concern. He assumed it was only Andy, until the boy scout remembered that their older companion had already left.

"...Mister?" Daniel asked all the same. When he presumably got no reply, he approached the stall door and hesitantly knocked on it.

[Destro_Yersul]

"What in the name of..." Michael watched the dust cloud for only a moment before grabbing what he could reach and hurrying back off the road. There wasn't really anything to hide behind out here, but at least they could get out of the way of whatever was coming.

[Spectre_j]

Andy briefly recoiled from the weather worn dumpster, resisting the urge to gag in the face of that unholy odor. The eerie quiet, the missing patron and attendant, and now the unfortunately familiar smell of rotting flesh- it set off alarm bells throughout his brain. He couldn't help but slip out of the present. The missing jarhead had been found in a large pit, filled with punji sticks. Recent rains had allowed most of them to be pushed aside by his body weight. Except the ones that had crippled him. Judging by the deep furrows in the side of the pit and his missing fingernails and bloody fingers, he had spent his last hours trying to claw his way to freedom. The image summed up the entire damned war. Rot and flies. Misery and despair.

Andy shook himself, coming back to the here and now, something clicked deep in his brain. The fear and anxiety took a back seat. Pulling his revolver from his coat, he cocked the hammer, held it up in both hands. Motions smooth and sure, muscle memory long forgotten brought back to the fore. Past and present in perfect sync.

He approached the dumpster.

[Artemis97]

Oh gross. That phone... were there sanitary wipes around? some lysol? Strange that the gun was missing along with the attendant's keys. That was worrisome. Had the place been robbed? There wasn't any sign of a struggle or any blood that she could see. Just... emptiness. Had the attendant disappeared like their bus driver had? Were these things related?

Reluctantly, Maria picks up the receiver and listens for a dial tone. If there is one, she'll dig her bus ticket out of her bag and try to get a hold of the bus company. Or maybe she should call the police first? Was this an emergency? Did it warrant a call to 911? There was a missing man in the desert, possibly two, if she counted the gas station attendant, three for the owner of that truck? Then there was that bear. And poor Miss Mabel back at the bus, she couldn't stand to be in the heat for too long. Maria stops searching through her bag and simply dials 9-1-1.

[Sophistemon]

The door squealed on its hinges as it swung open under the pressure of Daniel’s knocking knuckles, stopping just short of banging into the stall barrier. The young man peered inside, but the stall was empty and revealed no sign of the source of the noise he’d heard. Daniel narrowed his eyes, suddenly uncertain, and began to turn back to the sink, to collect his water bottles and head out into the station proper. Before he could, however, there was another rattle. This one was louder than before and Daniel stared, wide-eyed, as the toilet lid leaped an inch off the commode before falling back with a clack. There were other sounds, then: the liquid slosh of stagnant water, the gurgle of straining pipes, and most concerning of all – the scrabbling of claws on filth-slick porcelain. There was something in the bowl, something alive, and it was trying to get out.

The Eagle Scout took a step back and was warily assessing the situation when the lid yawned wide, allowing an enormous rat the size of a small dog to slither wetly to the floor. Its sides heaving with frantic breath, the scavenger shook itself dry before noticing Daniel’s presence. It regarded him cautiously. One of its eyes was milk-white and running with pus, but the other was a shiny black bead brimming with animal malice. It bared its teeth at him, revealing chipped fangs gone brown with rot, and hissed.


Relief flooded Maria when she held the phone to her ear and was greeted by the tinny, but welcomed and familiar sound of a dial tone. Her fingers worked quickly, spinning the dial from nine, to one, to one. The phone rang once, twice, and mid-way through the third ring there was a click followed by a woman’s voice. Maria’s heart leaped before she realized, with crushing disappointment and no small amount of confusion, that it was a prerecorded message (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYWgQ3rWyQE). And when it had concluded, it was followed by another (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUvOZqJusvg). The young woman slammed the receiver back into its cradle with enough force to shake the counter and huffed an exasperated breath. Had the whole world gone completely crazy? How could the police possibly be disconnected?


The metal radiated both heat and stink as Andrew drew closer, both due to the time it’d spent in the sun. The interior must be baking like an oven, the veteran thought. He reached slowly for the lid, but drew back when he realized it was easily hot enough to scald him. Thinking quickly, he lifted his shirt and bunched his hand in enough of the fabric to protect himself. Then, carefully managing his gun with the other hand, he threw open the lid of the dumpster and peered inside. It was the worst thing he could have done.

The stink, nearly incapacitating outside the dumpster, had been for the most part trapped beneath the lid. Opening it and looking inside had exposed the former soldier to the full force of the reek, and he almost immediately felt his gorge begin to rise, a taste of sulfur forming at the back of his tongue. He swiveled his head and vomited, his puke hissing and sizzling on the ground where it landed. Wiping his mouth, swearing softly to himself, Andrew looked back in the dumpster. What he saw there was worse than the smell. Inside, folded up among the black garbage bags, was a human corpse. It had been mauled, nearly dismembered, in a way that reminded Andrew of the bear. As his stomach began to churn again, the veteran turned away and dry-heaved, spitting the sour juices that collected in his mouth. Jesus Christ, he thought. Where the hell is his head?


The three scrambled for the side of the road as the cloud of dust got closer and closer by the second, with Mabel being assisted in her movements by Michael’s generous hand. It wasn’t long at all before even old Mrs. Mulberry-Jones’ eyes could see the source for what it was: a car. Specifically, once it got close enough and began to slow down, the three of them could see it was an aged Ford Crown Victoria painted black and white beneath a thick layer of road dust. The car slowed even further, pulling up beside them before stopping. The lights blipped, once, and the siren sounded for a fraction of a second. “I’ll be God-d*****,” Ralph muttered, and Mabel shot him a disapproving look.

As the engine died, the driver-side door swung open and a man stepped out. Tall, with his dark hair cropped short, he circled around the front of the car and stood with his hands hands on his narrow hips, the desert sunlight reflecting off a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses. He chewed slowly on a toothpick, moving it from one corner of his mouth to the other and back again with a practiced roll of his tongue, before spitting it out to clatter noiselessly against the asphalt of the road. “You folks feeling lost?” he asked.

[Artemis97]

Ok something serious must have happened if 911 was down. Or maybe she dialed it wrong? Desperate, she'll dial an extra 9 before 911, trying to get an outside line. If that fails, she'll try 5, and then 3, before finally giving up. It wasn't a mistake she made. Something had gone horribly wrong if emergency services were down. Was this some kind of attack? Or just bad luck? Did it have something to do with all the disappearences? But why had they been spared? And what were these damned numbers?

"I guess we're on our own." Maria decides. Well, God helps those who help themselves. She'll head outside to get the keys from that truck and see if it'll start.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Lost?" Michael favoured the officer with one of his winning smiles. Being friendly came easily to him, even if he didn't feel it. All part of his job. "Not exactly, sir. We were on the bus that goes through here and it stopped working. We're headed to the gas station up yonder."

[Blarghy]

"Whaaaaat theeeee hellllllll!" Daniel wheezed in disbelief. He'd seen animals in poor condition before and felt sympathy for them, but this creature was in a class of its own. How was it so big? How was it still so aggressive and spry? Daniel, not much of a hunter despite his love of barbecue, had only tried to frighten away unfriendly beasts in the past. Nothing of real consequence had ever tried to hurt him in the desert before; the environment itself was his real enemy. Today was a special case, and even as his mind struggled to unfreeze, his hand reached back and picked up a bottle perched on the edge of the sink.

"Can he make the shot? The fans don't seem to think so!" Reggie, another student on summer break, spoke in a deep announcer's voice from the diner's front counter. Daniel and Jamie stood side by side at a half-bussed table; across the room, empty of customers at this hour, was a trashcan. Jamie swung his arm back as though to throw a frisbee and tossed a hard plastic plate. It sailed gently through the air, curved a little too soon, and clanked against the far wall instead.

"Ooooh! His coach won't be happy about that, folks!"

Daniel grabbed a Coke bottle. He weighed it in his hand, squinted, and sent it spinning, right into the bin.

"Three points! The crowd goes wiiiiiiiiiild!"

This time he flung it with more force and purpose. Even if Daniel only startled the rat, hopefully that would still give him time to make it to the restroom door and slam it behind him.

[Spectre_j]

His stomach knotted by the dry heaving, Andy forced himself upright. ****ing Hell, he thought, A bear missing an arm and now a headless corpse. What the **** else is this desert going to throw at us? Making a conscious effort to breathe through his mouth, he moved to look back inside the dumpster. Maybe there were some clues. Clothing, personal effects, maybe even some identification. Somewhere in this desert, was something capable of mauling not just a human being and dismembering it, but doing the same to a bear. The questions were stacking up, and they *still* needed answers. Their survival might just depend on it.

[Sophistemon]

Daniel's aim was true enough that the bottle, weighed with water, crashed into the rat's greasy side and careened across the tile of the bathroom floor. The rodent whirled, shrieking in pain and anger at the spinning projectile, before it realized the true threat of the biped. Teeth bared and dripping blood, one eye glaring in an all too human hatred, the rat lunged at Daniel to pay him back for the damage he'd inflicted. From the way it moved, the scout got the impression he'd badly hurt it, perhaps enough to break a few ribs or rupture an organ or two. It was sluggish on its feet, black eye twitching, tail whipping wildly at the floor.


Maria stepped out of the Gas Haven and into the blinding sunlight of the American desert, still fuming over the malfunctioning phone, still worrying about what it all might mean. The heat of the day hit her like a fist. She knew that deserts got dangerously cold during the night, sometimes cold enough to kill without protection, and found herself wishing for sundown regardless. She clutched the truck's keys in her hand, determined to check if the vehicle would start and give them a way back to the bus and then out of the desert. As she strode toward it, however, she heard the sound of someone vomiting behind the gas station, and the follow-up expectoration of a clearing mouth. She had a choice, now: she could complete her mission with the truck, or see what was going on with Andrew.


The corpse of the man in the dumpster was wearing faded bluejeans, a pair of battered white sneakers, and a red flannel shirt gone scabrous with dried blood. He was situated in an odd way, his abdomen arched up above the hips, as though he was pushing out his stomach. There were bags of garbage in the dumpster, long past their collection date by the smell, but Andrew surmised there might be something else underneath the body that was pushing it up from behind. He moved position, climbing up the dumpster wall and peering down from above. Craning his head, he could see the loop of a strap poking out from underneath the body. The last thing he wanted to do was reach down and move the corpse. He'd had enough of that sort of thing in the jungle, after all. But if it was hiding a bag, and the bag had essential supplies? Maybe.


The cop smiled a toothless grin, his lips together. "You were on a bus?" he asked. He looked at Mabel Mulberry Jones and shrugged his shoulders. "Did they make you ride in the back, honey?" The old woman stiffened her spine like she'd been goosed, and her own lips shut tightly enough to render them pale. The cop licked his bottom lip and turned to Ralph. "Are there any more of you? Can't imagine you three took a bus on your lonesome. Were you a big group?"

Ralph, already feeling rescued, shook his head. "No. No, there's a few more, but not many. They left earlier and went looking for help. It got too hot to stay put, so we followed them." The cop huffed a breath of air through his nose, a short sigh of amusement.

"Did they?" he asked. "Well, if they went the way you're going, they'd have found the station by now... if nothing found them first." He arced a thumb back over his shoulder, at the car. "You guys want a lift? I can take you to your buddies, get you on your way home."

[Destro_Yersul]

Michael glanced over at the car. He felt it was too convenient, this officer showing up just now, when they were in trouble, and there was something about the situation that bothered him. It was the sunglasses, probably. Michael never trusted a man who hid his eyes. The others, though, they might not be so cautious, and to refuse would be suspicious. He thought, though, that the officer might not want passengers up front.

"We've an awful lot to take with us," he said, letting his smile waver for a second. "With three of us, and all our bags, I'm not sure we'd fit. If one of us has to stay and walk, it ought to be me. Certainly miss Mulberry-Jones should go. I'd not force her to walk, given an alternative."

[Artemis97]

The truck could wait a moment, Maria decides, going to walk around to the back of the gas station. If Andrew had something like heat exhaustion, causing him to throw up, she might need to help him back inside. Get him some fluids, a bit of salt too, quick.

"Hey, you alright back here?" she asks, coming around the corner.

[Blarghy]

With a wordless squawk of alarm, Daniel leapt away from the charging rat, dove for the bottle he threw a moment before, and, from a half-kneeling position, struck again. This time his aim was even better, catching the rat right on the nose. Even after it went down, Daniel flattened himself against the opposite wall in shock. He stood there for a long moment, just hoping to catch his breath. Finally he noticed that the rat did the same. Its possibly-broken ribs still fluttered in and out, though he seemed safe, for now.

A quick stomp to the grotesque creature's head would solve his problem for good. Maybe that was even the kindest choice, the relief that nature had apparently denied. Yet, Daniel couldn't help but feel a spark of compassion amidst his disgust.

He skirted around the prone rodent and picked up the trashcan, shook out its contents onto the floor, and hesitantly approached the rat. Using the bottle he threw, he swept and rolled the rat into this impromptu prison. From there, Daniel carried it quickly out of the store and into the parking lot, looking for his companions.

"Guys! Guys! You have to see this; I found something crazy!"

Surely they'll be awed by such a weird and gruesome discovery. What else could possibly top this?

[Spectre_j]

Andrew considered the strap under the corpse, only dimly aware of Maria calling out to him. He’d had enough run-ins with cops in the anti war movement to not wanna disturb the scene of a murder. But, the desperation of their situation won out in his mind. Reaching in with his free hand to grasp the strap, he gave it a tug to see just how hard it would be to pull it out. Feeling the weight of the body lying heavy on whatever it was attached to, he pocketed his gun, grabbed the strap in both hands, and heaved.

[Artemis97]

"What are you doing in the dumpster?" Maria asks coming closer, and then the smell hit her. "Oh, oh God, what is that? What are you doing?!" How could this possibly be useful? They had a store full of supplies and he's dumpster diving?

Daniel might hear her shouting from behind the building.

[Sophistemon]

The cop turned to Michael and flashed a toothy grin. His sunglasses flared brightly as he moved, reflecting light into the salesman’s eyes. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Take a look around, buddy; the desert’d chew you up and spit you out. You don’t want to be walking this road anymore than you have to. You can toss your s*** in the trunk.” He turned abruptly, went to the rear of the car, and sprang the lid. “Here, get a move on. You don’t want to be standing around too long.”

Ralph moved quickly, eager to get going. He set his bags in the trunk and faced the cop. “We’re really glad you stopped,” he said, speaking for the group. “We haven’t seen any other cars on the road, so we’re lucky you drove by.” His face sank a little, worry-lines etched deep into his forehead. “Where is everyone?” he asked. “It’s got to be the middle of the day, and we haven’t seen anyone else since we woke up this morning.”

The cop’s smile never wavered. “You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know,” he said. There was a hint of amusement in his voice, a sprinkling of misplaced mirth. “I’ve been driving around all day and you’re the first warm bodies I’ve seen since sunrise. Here, let me help you with those.” He moved quickly, snakebite fast, and grabbed the remaining bags. He tossed them in the trunk with Ralph’s and clapped the lid closed. “There, all cozy. Let’s get a move on.” Still moving quickly, he unlocked and opened the two passenger doors. “Boys in the back. You can ride up front with me, old-timer; I want to keep my eye on you.”


Daniel emerged into the station proper, the bathroom door swinging shut behind him, to find it empty. He stood on his toes for a moment, searching for sign of his missing companions, but they weren’t anywhere indoors. Concluding that they must have left the building, he regretfully exchanged the cool interior of the gas station for the baking heat of the desert. He stood in the parking lot for a moment, craning his head and listening for evidence of the others. Thankfully, he could clearly hear Maria shouting something at Andrew towards the rear of the building, and he set off in the direction with the injured rat shifting lightly from side to side in the trashcan. As he approached, he began to smell the unfortunately familiar reek of rotting meat.


Maria watched, wide-eyed and confused, as Andrew leaned into the dumpster. How he could force himself into the source of that smell she couldn’t understand at first, but then she saw him rummage for something. Using his lower body as a counter-weight, the former veteran see-sawed himself back up and out of the bin, one hand clutching the bloody strap of an even bloodier canvas duffel bag. Retching, Andrew dropped the bag to the dusty ground and heaved, his empty stomach churning with the apparent intention of turning itself inside out. Thinking quickly he reached down, grabbed the strap, and retreated away from the dumpster. Eyes still watering, Andrew made his way towards Maria.

[Artemis97]

"Aye Dios mio. What are you doing digging that thing out of the trash?!" Maria exclaims. "Wait... is that... blood? What the hell man?! What is going on here?!" She demands, backing away from the stench, and away from Andrew's retching. Just as she thought they'd found a little hope, things got weird again.

[Destro_Yersul]

Michael made a point of keeping hold of his own personal suitcase. It was small enough to put on his lap, in any case. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of a way to politely shrug off the officer. He was right about the desert, it was a hostile and unforgiving place, and almost certainly the car would have air conditioning. Still, there was something off, even if he couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was how quick the officer was. Too quick, really.

"Much obliged, sir." He said, sliding into the back beside Ralph. "What's your name, by the way? I'm Michael."

[Blarghy]

"What'd you find?" Daniel asked with equal alarm. "Whatever--just look at this! It crawled out of the toilet and attacked me! This thing is huge and sick or something." He tilted the trash can down to let Maria see inside.

Something occurred to Daniel and his expression paled further. "Do...do you think something's wrong with the water? Is that what happened here? And we already drank some!"

[Spectre_j]

Andy all but ran away from the dumpster, looking to Maria, then the bag, then the dumpster, then back to Maria. He let go of the bag and stood up straight, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and clearing his throat. “Well,” he began, trying to figure out how to explain himself. Putting on his best bedside manner, he smiled and held up his hands in a calming way, open and palms out. He gestured toward the dumpster, “There’s a body in there, and the poor bastard is short a head. I found this bag under him. I was hoping it might have some clues as to who he was. We’ve got at least three people missing, and I’m thinking he might be one of them. Now, lets be cool and figure this out, alright?” He knew it didn’t look good, and he didn’t want to scare her, but he needed answers. Moving slowly and keeping an eye on Maria, he knelt down to look into the bag.

[Artemis97]

Maria peers into the trashcan and lets out a shriek. "Oh god, is that a rat? It's huge!" And disgusting.

"No I don't think it has anything to do with the water. Our bus wouldn't have access to the same water source as this gas station."

And then Andrew starts talking about a decapitated body. "Que?! What? Oooh I wish you had left it alone... but I can't even get the police on the phone, just that damned numbers station again. We might need to figure this out on our own."

[Blarghy]

Daniel set the trashcan down and grabbed his thick, curly hair with both hands. "They're dead?" he stared between Andy and the dumpster. He could hardly comprehend the circumstances the older man had described; death was bad enough, and murder was worse, but decapitation sat somewhere beyond the limits of Daniel's already-fragile nerves. As for whatever was happening with the phones and radios around here, he couldn't even guess.

"So there's a killer out here? It can't all be a coincidence! Whoever did it must've tampered with the phones. B...blocked the normal stations somehow. And...and if they got the bus driver already...or what if this is the bus driver?! What if he set this up somehow, and now he's after us?!"

He slumped to the ground next to his former enemy; the rat no longer seemed that bad, all things considered. From the hot asphalt--Daniel barely noticed, for now--his eyes drifted to the duffel bag. Maybe it had something useful; presumably Andy agreed, given the lengths he went to claim it. Then again, the killer didn't bother, so Daniel wasn't about to get his hopes up. Still. Only one way to know for sure.

"Should we open it?" he wondered, young voice trembling. "And then I guess we have to take that truck and go back for the others before it's too late. We have to warn them. We have to get out of here!"

[Spectre_j]

Drawing a deep breath, Andy tried again to put on some of that calm, collected bedside manner he'd always been so good at. He tried to lock eyes with the kid. Daniel? That was it, right? He forced a smile, "Deep breaths, Danny boy, okay?" Moving his gaze between Maria and Danny, he continued, "Something is going on here, and if we watch each other's backs, keep our wits about us, we're gonna get out of this, alright? I've been through worse situations, if not weirder. At least three people are missing, possibly dead. There's a dead bear out in the desert missing a leg miles from where he should be, and some poor soul missing a head in that dumpster. This duffel might have some clues. Or it might have something useful. Either way, I say we open it." He paused, reaching for the zipper of the bag, then looked back up: "One more thing: don't trust a soul that wasn't on the bus with us."

[Sophistemon]

Once seated, Michael could more easily see the black steel mesh that barricaded the lawless back seats of the cruiser from its more civilized front. The officer shut the door beside him before he could react, which latched closed with all the grim finality of a cocking hammer. The elderly Mabel Mulberry-Jones was soon sitting in the passenger seat, her bony knees pressed tightly together while she stared restlessly through the windshield. Bizarrely, a dancing hula-girl figuring had been suction-cupped to the dashboard. The red ochre paint of its skin had been rubbed away from the oversize breasts to reveal the faded off-white plastic beneath.

The cop entered the car with practiced ease, nearly leaping into his seat. He buckled himself in and, in unthinking ritual, reached to the figurine and ran the pad of his thumb across its chest. Smirking, the officer tilted his head to view Michael in the rearview mirror. “The name’s Lou,” he answered. “Lou Shepherd, and I’m the law around these parts.” He started the engine, which roared to life without enough force that Mabel bounced in her seat, lower lip bit tightly between her teeth. Shepherd’s right arm shot out like a bar to keep her from falling forward. “Easy there, girl!” he chided. “We don’t want you jumping out of your bones.” The car rumbled, growling hungrily, as cool air poured in through the vents. That much was pleasant, at least.

Ralph leaned forward in his seat and reached up to tap the mesh. “What’s going on out there?” he asked. “Nobody on the roads, the radios playing that weird station… Is it – was it the Russians? Did they drop the big one?” His question gave voice to concerns he’d been chewing on since waking up that morning.

Shepherd laughed a harsh, barking guffaw. “Everyone’s afraid of the big, bad bear!” he howled. “Bears ain’t so tough, you take it from me. And no, this ain’t the Kremlin’s doing. We’re just a quiet, empty place around here. Not many people come and go, s’true. As for the radio, it was storming like Hell last night. Sure as s***, a tower got a short and knocked out the signal.” Without waiting for a response, the cop put his car in drive and pulled back out into the road. “Never you worry folks,” he said. “We’ll get you where you’re going soon enough.”


Andrew pulled the zipper, and the duffel bag opened with little complaint. It resisted only once, when the zipper struggled to break through a clot of blood caught in the metal teeth. The veteran reached in, cautiously, while Maria and Daniel crowded around to see what he would find. Slowly, carefully, Andy removed the contents. There was an inches thick stack of continuous form printer paper bound carefully in twine, a selection of near-boiling bottles of soda-pop and hopelessly melted candy bars, a hard plastic case roughly two feet long and locked with twin latches, and a soft plastic storage bag filled with a substantial amount of what was clearly marijuana, rolling papers, and a cheap plastic lighter. Upon closer inspection, all three could see that the first page of the stack of papers, and the lid of the plastic case, were stamped with the same ‘concave-kite-in-a-circle’ symbol.

Thinking the plastic box somewhat resembled one of those newfangled gun cases and hoping for some additional firepower, Andrew set it in his lap, thumbed the latches open, and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled safely on a bed of cushioning black foam and almost blindingly white in the desert sun, was a porcelain cat (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/06/14/55/0614552cccbb6eefd64e4dd0b4661471.jpg) handpainted with a garish floral pattern. A branching network of micro-fractures spiderwebbed like veins beneath milky flesh, and the cat’s unusually humanoid face sported bright red lipstick and a pair of unblinking, brilliantly green eyes.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Officer Shepherd is right," Michael said. "I don't think it's Russia." His mind was running about a mile a minute, and he didn't want to say much right now. All of this was very strange, and being behind the metal grate in the car wasn't helping any. Police made him nervous, had done ever since... well, since he left home, really.

[Artemis97]

"Well, that's weird." Maria says, looking at the cat figurine. Maybe it had been used to smuggle something. It didn't exactly look priceless. At least it wasn't a gun.

She reaches for the stack of printed pages, maybe they provided a clue to who this was. A manuscript, maybe? A journal would be helpful. But this sort of paper was used more for raw data. From her bag she slipped the pocket knife Mabel had given her and cut the twine.

[Sophistemon]

Ralph nodded, happily accepting the cop's story as truth. "That makes sense," he said. His words were slow and thoughtful. "I guess I just feared the worst." He thought about the brown bagged bottle he'd brought with him, and the reason he brought it, and went silent again. Mabel took that opportunity to speak up, and her voice was hardened by the disrespect she'd been shown.

"There were birds," she said. "Big ones -- buzzards or vultures or the like. They circled the bus and then landed on the roof. Is that normal, for them to flock around people?" Officer Shepherd laughed again, that barking chortle, and nodded his head.

"Oh yes," he answered. "Them things'll scour the sands for what's near-dead and call their buddies for suppertime. It's a dangerous place out in the desert, and the likes of them will never want for food. You must have been in poorer circumstances than I thought if you caught their eyes. It's a good thing I found you when I did, to keep you safe from yourselves."


Mabel's knife, honed by a practiced hand, parted the twine with ease. Maria got a better look at the symbol (https://images.tutorvista.com/cms/images/113/concave-kite.png) on the first page. It was like a triangle, with the point high and the base bent up in the center. She began flipping pages and scanned them for information. Unfortunately, they weren't written in English, or in any language she recognized. The characters looked East-Asian -- Chinese or Korean, maybe -- though she couldn't say for sure. A few pages in she found a grainy black-and-white photograph of the porcelain cat paper-clipped to the sheet. Evidently, this stack of papers somehow pertained to the statue.

[Artemis97]

"This could be some sort of provenance or research pertaining to that statue, there. It's not in English, though. Or Spanish. Or Nahuatl. So I can't read it." She laughs nervously at her own little joke. "Do either of you recognize this stuff?" She holds it out for the others to see.

[Blarghy]

"I...no, I...I don't know..." Daniel murmurs in puzzled discomfort, still shocked by the chaos. He finds his gaze captured by the weird statue; it's hardly the first odd figurine he's ever come across, but in light of the circumstances, Daniel can't help but shudder involuntarily.

"But it doesn't matter," he decided. "Somebody's still dead and we need to go. Maybe we should finish looking for survivors, but then let's leave. I'll get the supplies."

And I'll...take care of you, Daniel thought glumly as he grabbed the trashcan and carried it with him back inside.

He wedged it securely under the bathroom sink while he gathered up his water bottles; unless it was cracked or broken, he rinsed off the container he previously used as an improvised weapon and added it back with the rest. Over the course of a few trips, Daniel shuttled armloads of food and beverages out to their soon-to-be-stolen truck.

But he could only delay for so long; soon he had to address the rat. It seemed like his responsibility, he supposed. Daniel returned to the bathroom for the last time...

...With chips and canned sausages.

He opened the bag and shook it onto the floor in a little pile alongside the questionable meat. The empty tin, he refilled with clean water from the sink, and sat it down too. Then, nervously, Daniel held the door open behind him with his foot, took hold of the trashcan, and laid it on its side before retreating hastily.

Logically, Daniel knew he should've just put the rodent out of its misery; this was less mercy than weakness. Now it would only linger before eventually succumbing to either its injuries or whatever sickness already plagued it. At least the poor creature might drag itself over for a last meal, whatever that was worth. Either way, Daniel had wasted enough time. He hurried back to the others so they could make more preparations or finish searching the property--not that Daniel expected to find anything pleasant at this point.

[Spectre_j]

Andy shook his head at Maria's question. "The symbol looks like an arrowhead," he said, "but I can't imagine what the rest of this is. Maybe he was a mule? But why kill him and take nothing? There's a LOT of weed here, and those papers could be anything. Coded messages, a ledger, a Satanic ritual, who knows? The same symbol appears on both the papers and the cat, but what's the connection?" Shaking his head, Andy emptied the food and sodas from the bag, and seeing nothing else, turned his attention to the cat. There had to be more to this. In his experience, people weren't brutally murdered for no reason at all.

[Destro_Yersul]

Michael kept quiet, but he wasn't so sure they needed to be kept safe from themselves. The salesman had travelled across a great deal of the country, and knew quite well how to handle himself in a wide variety of situations. It wouldn't do to go telling the officer that, of course. Hopefully he'd let them out at the gas station, and be on his way without further incident.

[Sophistemon]

The rat remained all but motionless as Daniel set about his work. In-between trips to and from the truck the young man would peer inside the trash can, searching for continued signs of life, though he still wasn’t altogether sure of why. The rat’s chest rose and fell with hitching, labored breaths. Between its obvious illness and the injuries it had sustained during their conflict, its extended survival was unlikely at best. Passing by the mirror, Daniel once again saw the invitation to call someone named Amy, provided he was looking for a good time. The crassness of the graffiti managed to lighten his mood somewhat, like an island of normal in a sea of the weird. He left the bathroom thinking about it, with something almost like a smile tugging at the corners of his lip.

On his way back to the others, Daniel tested the locked doors that barred entrance to both the manager’s office and the little repair garage. The latter door was sturdy, locked tight with a bolt, but the former was cheaply made and shifted in its hinges when he pulled the knob. He thought that, if he combined efforts with the older man, Andy, they should be able to knock it down and get at whatever was inside. He didn’t like the idea of breaking and entering any more than he liked the idea of taking the food and water, but as a scout he knew that desperate times called for desperate measures, and things were looking pretty darn desperate all things considered.

Shortly after the scout left the Gas Haven restroom that final time but before he left the building proper to rejoin the others, one of the rat’s rear legs kicked fitfully once, then twice, before it went still.


The cat’s ceramic skin shone wetly in the dessert sun. The smooth, white contours of its body sharply contrasted with the floral pattern painted on the surface. When Andrew reached down to run his fingertips over it, he could feel the faintest hint of the brush strokes making up every stem, leaf, and petal. It was such an unnatural thing, from the vein-like cracks beneath the surface, to the embossed pattern painted on, to the bizarrely humanoid face and its wide, unblinking eyes that the veteran regretted touching it and pulled his hand away and wiped his fingers on his pants.

The presence of the corpse made this more of a survival situation than he’d been hoping for. They were stranded, that was bad. They’d found a dead bear on the side of the road, with one leg torn free – that was worse. They’d come to a seemingly abandoned gas station, but not abandoned so long ago that its power had been turned off. That was good and bad at the same time. But the corpse meant that there was something distinctly sinister going on, and Andrew felt the hair on the back of his neck start to stiffen in warning like it had back in the jungles when things had gotten just a little too quiet.


Maria felt out of her element. For someone so educated, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Had the thing in the plastic case been an ancient artifact more relevant to the region, that might have given her something to go on. But it was clearly of a more modern make, despite its grotesque appearance, and her extensive catalog of knowledge had failed her when it came to identifying the language on the paperwork. The only thing in the duffel bag that might have interested her, beyond the food and drink, was the marijuana – and it had gone south days ago, with the heat of the dumpster all but cooking it inside the bag. All that remained was a rotten, fungal mass of once potent psychoactive that would be of no use to anyone not looking to get sick. Only her upbringing was keeping the rising tide of panic at bay, though not even the School of Hard Knocks had prepared her for something like this.


Shepherd drove slowly, almost obnoxiously so. They hadn’t passed a speed limit sign in some time, but the travelers were certain the police cruiser was prowling along at a much slower speed than it needed to, especially in light of the importance of where they were going. That said, the officer had a very natural smile on his face as he handled the wheel, steering with one hand while the other arm rested confidently cocked out the open window. “So,” he said at last. “Where’re you folks headed, anyway? You didn’t get on that bus to stop in my neck of the woods, I’d put money on that.”

“I’m visiting a friend,” Mabel said. “A pen-pal I’ve known for years. She lives in the city, and I thought we should finally meet before either of us got any older.”

The cop nodded, smile widening. “Ain’t that something?” he asked. “F###ing adorable, I say truly; it must be nice to have friends.” His eyes rose to the rear-view mirror and found Ralph's. “How about you, big fella? Meeting a friend?”

Ralph shook his head, his mouth a thin line. “No,” he said. “I’m going to a funeral. My boy, he… there was an accident, on the road. He didn’t make it.”

Shepherd clucked his tongue, commiserating. “Aw,” he said. “That’s the pits! My most sincere condolences, friend. Losing family’s a Godd### nightmare.” Those eyes then found Michael’s, and the question recurred. “And you, partner? What’s on the other side of your journey?”

[Destro_Yersul]

Well, here was a question Michael could answer. He straightened a little. "Nothing so interesting," he said. "I'm a salesman, door-to-door life insurance. Moving to the next city over for work."

[Spectre_j]

Slipping the strange object back into its case, Andrew snapped plastic box closed. He opened the marijuana, and seeing what looked to be some sort of fungus, packed up everything but the cat and the papers. He took a deep breath, holding it in as he walked the duffel back to the dumpster and dropped it in, retreating quickly from the fresh stench of rot and swarm of flies that erupted from the hot dumpster. He let out a relieved sigh as he got away from that bin of horror. Scooping up the plastic case, he checked to make sure his revolver was in his coat and started walking back around the building. He stopped after a few steps to turn back to Maria, "I'd hang onto those papers. Let's get back to Danny. There's still a few stones left to turn over here." He hesitated for moment as he turned to keep walking, wondering if maybe he should have pulled the corpse and examined it closer, looked for ID, tried harder to sort out what happened. "No," He thought, suddenly annoyed at his conscience for trying to make him go pawing through that charnel pit, "It isn't important." Hastening his step, determined that distance from it would lessen his feelings of duty and obligation, a small voice whispered: "But what if it is?" He stopped, his grip white knuckled on the plastic case. Taking a deep breath, Andy turned around to go back to the dumpster.

[Blarghy]

I could go ahead and try to kick down this door, Daniel thought while he waited. He wasn't in any hurry to go back out to that dumpster, that was for sure, but he also felt wary of hurting himself with a solo B&E. Without encouragement, the eagle scout might not even have the nerve to try.

He soon found himself lingering around the front counter, keeping a nervous eye on the bathroom door and listening for murder-screams. Then again, the killer would probably come after a lone victim... Daniel shook his head to banish the idea. In search of a distraction, he saw the phone that Maria had already tested unsuccessfully. He picked it up anyway; maybe he'd try 911 again, just in case. You never knew.

Instead, Daniel, for some reason, dialed the number he'd found in the bathroom. He didn't give it much thought. He certainly didn't expect results, not really. Hey, what if it's a local number, close by, and all the emergency numbers are blocked by something further away? No harm in trying.

[Artemis97]

Maria gathered up the papers. It was something familiar, at least, research, even if it was in another language. She nods to Andy and turns to go back inside, where there was air conditioning and water, when the older man started back towards the dumpster.

"Now what are you doing?" She asks.

[Spectre_j]

"The last thing I want to," Andy replied with a grimace, "But that body might have answers."

[Sophistemon]

The dumpster stank like an abattoir left too long unattended. The swarm of black flies buzzed angrily as Andrew approached, indignant at his interruption. The reek was indescribable, a foul mixture of rotten meat baked for days and decomposing refuse left to molder for God knew how long. The veteran gagged as he got nearer, gorge rising in his throat. His stomach churned, threatening to empty itself again, but he soldiered on and mounted the dumpster as before. It was like looking down into Hell, but Andy leaned forward until his upper body disappeared from view, gripped the dead man by the front of his shirt, and hoisted him free of the dumpster. They collapsed together on the ground, and Andrew scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could. He'd carried dead men before, in the jungle, but they'd been freshly dead. The corpse was so far gone it was nearly liquid inside, a man-shaped sack of sludge held together by a fragile skin. The body seethed with maggots, the skin surging while they dug their tunnels underneath, and Andrew had to turn away before the nausea overtook him.


The cruiser passed a large weathered sign advertising a local Gas Haven, and the cop let out a piercing whistle. "Hey, not long now!" he crowed. "Y'all must be excited to get back on the road. Just you wait, I bet we'll find your friends and that missing bus driver, too." He turned his head to look at his back-seat passengers, steering with one hand. "Hell, I'd put money down you could use a couple beers, am I right?" He winked at Ralph. "This one knows what I'm talking about, don't you?"

The car started to veer into the opposite lane, inching its way across the line, and Mabel bit her lower lip and reached for the wheel. "Watch out," she warned. The cop, sensing the movement, whipped around and slapped her hand away. The old woman recoiled, knuckles stinging, and massaged the battered digits.

"Don't you ever," warned Shepherd. "Don't you ever, do you hear me? A man's car is like his c###; you don't ever touch without permission." Mabel sank in her seat, and Ralph shot a worried glance at Michael.

When the cop faced the road, glaring into the distance, the other man leaned toward the salesman and whispered. "Should we, uh... should we say something?"


The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Just when Daniel realized that an automated message would have kicked in by now if it was going to, the line clicked and a woman's voice poured through the receiver and into his ear. It was sweet and smokey, like toasted honey, and it made the young man's mouth go dry. "Hello?" said the woman on the other end. "How'd you get this number?"

[Artemis97]

"Oh! Oh god!" Maria thought to run away from the scene, but crept closer, her nose having somewhat come a little more accustomed to the stench. It wasn't much, and the new wave of horror that came with the rotting body made her want to scream and hide. But maybe, just maybe, there was something to be learned here. They were on their own. Clues were vital.

Pulling her shirt up over her face in a poor attempt to ward off the smell, and to hopefully keep flies away from her mouth and nose, Maria came even closer, looking for... something... what could this poor sod tell them? He'd probably been baking in there all day. Longer? The closest she got to maggots and flies in school were the beetles in the science labs they used to strip flesh from bones. In archaeology, the bodies were never this fresh. If he were just a skeleton maybe she could tell something, but a fresh corpse?

She kept trying to draw parallels to her work to keep herself sane. Decapitation. Guillotine? Hah, not likely. Machete maybe. Gang violence? Someone making a statement? But then why dump the body here? Where was his head?

"What do you think killed him?" She asked Andy. "You know, beside the missing head."

[Destro_Yersul]

Michael leaned in closer to Ralph, making sure that the cop wasn't looking before whispering back. "Do you want to set him off? I'd just as soon get where we're going and see the back of him, without giving him a reason to make our lives harder."

[Blarghy]

At first, Daniel is stricken silent in his surprise, but he recovers, though his voice cracks with relief. "Oh, thank you! We need help!" He pulls his head away for a moment to scream for the others: "The phone works! I got someone!" From there, he spills his soul to this complete stranger in a rush of emotion.

"I-I-I'm at this Gas Haven by the highway and I saw your number but we called 911 but it won't work but for some reason yours did and we need help please-please-please someone's dead and they got killed but we're stuck because our bus broke down and we came here for help and there was this big rat and a dead bear and our driver's missing but I think he might be the killer because we found the body and it's got no head and everyone else is gone and we need help so please call the police pleasehelpI'msoscared!"

It turns to a breathless wheeze at the end, as the scout runs out of air; he grabs the counter to steady himself, spots swimming in his vision.

[Spectre_j]

"Hard to say until I get a good look", Andrew replied to Maria. Gingerly shifting the corpse, he looked for any wounds, bruising or ligature marks on its wrists or what was left of it's neck. He patted the body down to look for anything that might be in its pockets, tucked in its waste band or socks, trying not to breathe in through his nose, hoping that he didn't swallow a fly for his trouble. First the body, then the dumpster. Oh boy, he thought, smiling grimly to himself. His old CO would've had a few jokes to tell to lighten the mood, an anecdote or two to keep despair at bay after finding another dead boy to ship back home to his folks or having another bleed out in a rice paddy.

He could just hear hm now, You really do love the dirty work, don't you Andy? "No sir," Andy would say, "But somebody has to do it." The Lieutenant had always tried to bring some levity to Andy's all too often demoralizing job. He had been a good man. Andy could remember dropping to his knees beside him after some Vietcong bastard gutted him with a bayonet. Even then, coughing up blood, he had flashed a smile and chided him. "Now, now. Don't go getting your hands dirty on my account, boy. Ain't gonna do no one any good." He had turned his head to spit out blood just then. He wasn't a fool, he knew he was being called home. Looking back to Andy he asked "Would you sing it for me?" A staunch baptist, the Lieutenant had taken an immediate shine to Andy for knowing the words to his favorite hymn (https://library.timelesstruths.org/music/It_Is_Well_with_My_Soul/). Andy had been surprised he'd remembered the tune, not having heard it since he was a boy. He had barely made it to the end of the first verse when he saw eyes glaze over, the ghost of a smile on a lifeless face. Andy hummed the tune to himself now, hoping and praying for some kind of salvation from this strange hell.

A distant shout shook him from his melancholy memories. He looked up at Maria. "Did you hear that?"

[Sophistemon]

It wouldn't have taken a doctor to see the dead man had been in, and lost, one mother of a fight. Spying the edge of a swollen, purplish contusion at the corpse's collar, Andrew gathered his courage and undid several buttons of the bloodstained shirt. The body was riddled with contusions, all fist-sized impacts from the look of them, all delivered with terrible force. Working quickly, the veteran stripped the shirt off and cast it to the dirt beside him, only to retch at the extent of the damage. An overhead blow had shattered the left collarbone, and Andrew both heard and felt the shards grinding together beneath the skin when he moved that arm. A similarly powerful force had caved in the sternum with enough savage power to cause a compound fracture of the ribs. The arms, when he inspected them, were covered with defensive wounds and the hands, he was sorry to see, lacked evidence of the self-inflicted damage he'd expect of a counter-attack. Prognosis? The man had been attacked and beaten to death before he'd had a chance to fight back. He'd been completely overpowered, killed and defiled.

Andrew continued his search of the body and discovered a large folding knife, in a soft leather sheath, belted to the waist. It felt distasteful to take it, to undo a dead man's belt, but he grit his teeth and took it. The man carried no wallet, but in his front right pocket Andrew discovered a key-ring, with a single key, and a tag labeled GAS HAVEN. This, he surmised, would open the office and probably the garage. It wasn't until the third pat-down that the veteran finally felt the card the corpse was hiding in the left rear pocket of his jeans. Andrew fished it out, discovered that it was crumpled but clean, and was disappointed to see it covered in the same illegible foreign language that made up the stack of papers. One corner was stamped with the same angular symbol as the documents and plastic case, while another corner held a small and fuzzy photograph of the corpse's missing head. He was a dour, dark-haired man of Asian descent -- not Vietnamese, Andrew mused -- with a no-nonsense look on his face. It was a form of identification, but without speaking the language the purpose was lost on Andrew.


"I'll have none of that talk," said the cop. Michael's eyes rose to find the driver glaring at him in the rear-view mirror. "Beggars can't be choosers, and I've got no room for ingrates in my car." The mouth beneath those eyes twisted to a frown. "You think it's easy out here, day in and day out? Driving the same roads for hours on end, staring out at the same empty f###ing nothing every day of my life?" His foot depressed the pedal, increased their speed, the gauge climbing to the red. "I'm a public f###ing servant, you know. I keep the world spinning." His eyes turned back to the road. "I'm not going to take any guff from a bunch of limp-wrist hippy outsiders too f###ing stupid to pack water in the desert. I know my place in the world." He chuckled, low in his throat, and reached out a hand to grip Mabel's left thigh. "Besides," he said. "It's nothing the old biddy hasn't had before, ain't that right?" He squeezed her leg. "Why, I bet it's a familiar taste of home." Ms. Mulberry-Jones jerked in her seat, attempting to pull away from his touch, but the cop held tight. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, and laughed.


The voice on the other end of the phone was silent a moment, giving Daniel enough time to pour his fear out. When she responded, her voice had a musical lilt to it like she was speaking through a smile. "Poor baby," she said. "Did you get it all out, honey?" Her tone was suggestive, inviting. "Calm down, sweetheart. It doesn't sound like you're having a good time at all; you did good, calling me. You say you called the cops first, but the phone didn't work? Probably for the best; cops and I don't get along very well. They don't like my line of work, and I don't care for theirs. And you found a dead body?" He heard her inhale on the other end, sucking air through her nose and filling her lungs. "Was anyone else there when you arrived, baby? Anyone alive? Or are you guys all on your own?" The questions were coming faster now, that honey-sweet voice spilling into his ear with intoxicating speed. "How many of you are there? Do you have any weapons on you, anything to keep you safe if the killer comes back? Do you have a car to get away in? How about supplies, have you stocked up on enough food and water to travel?"

[Artemis97]

Maria's eyes go wide at the bruises on the body. She knew the signs of a fight when she saw it. Poor man. Never stood a chance.

Her head snaps around at Daniel's shout. "Yeah, I'll check it out. Be careful." She says to Andy, before quickly walking up to the front of the store again.

She steps through the doors back into the blessedly cool air conditioning. She takes a few breaths to steady herself and then looks over to Daniel behind the counter. "You got someone? How?" She asks. "Who are they? Are they alright? Can they help us?"

[Destro_Yersul]

"Well, that's uncalled for, don't you think?" Michael said. "If you don't want us in your car anymore, then stop and let us out. We've got water, we've got a destination. I recall, you practically swept us in here. Nobody's saying the world don't need police, and nobody's saying what you do is easy. Why'd they post you all the way out here anyhow? Nearest city is miles away."

[Blarghy]

Daniel sniffed and drew the back of his hand across his nose. He tried to work through the woman's questions in a meandering, nervous way, as best he could.

"Nobody else is here. There's a truck, we found the keys, but I don't know if the driver is the...the guy we...found, or...but, we might have to just take it. And we got food and water from the gas station. It's just me, Miss Maria, and Mister Andrew now, but there were a few other people on our bus, and we have to go back to help them too. I've got my knife and my...my hatchet, but I...I've never..." He swallowed painfully.

When Maria joined him, he held up the phone. "Yes! I just tried this number I found, and it worked!"

[Spectre_j]

Pocketing the man’s belongings, Andrew gave the corpse a last look and stood up. He took the Gas Haven key out and bounced it on his palm. Remembering Danny's shout, he walked fast, almost a jog, back to the station’s cool interior. "Finally," He thought, "Maybe we're getting somewhere."

[Sophistemon]

The bell above the Gas Haven door jangled wildly as the rest of the group entered to crowd around Daniel and his phone-call. The air churned in a nearly palpable way with hope and excitement as people jostled for position, straining their ears to hear the speaker on the other end. The woman took a while to process what she'd been told, long enough that Daniel's palms began to sweat with nervous anticipation. When she spoke, her smoked-honey voice soothed him like a balm. "Calm down, sweetheart," she said. "Just breathe. Relax and let me take care of you, okay? The first thing you need to do is, get ready to leave. Go through the station once more, top to bottom, and grab everything you think you'll need." He could hear rustling on the other end of the line, like heavy fabric being moved and shrugged over shoulders. "I'm going to come and get you, okay? Make sure you all stay together, though. When I get there, I don't want to waste time calling everyone together. Can you do that for me, baby?" The way she said 'baby' made Daniel's stomach tighten. "Most importantly, stay calm. It's going to be all right. Just... don't let anyone in who isn't me, okay? Do you understand?"


Officer Shepherd grunted a few times, deep in his throat, in what might have been a laugh. "A thousand pardons, effendi," he said, then pitched his voice high. "Uncalled for, uncalled for!" The grunting reoccurred, and the cop rolled down his window and spat through it. The spittle, thick with mucus, clapped back against the car and smeared in greasy strands against the rear door window. "You don't know what you're asking," he grumbled. "To be out there, alone? You don't have any idea. They put me out here because I know it. I understand the desert -- and it understands me." He pulled his hand away from Mabel's thigh and she curled up in her seat, leaning against her door in an attempt to make some distance. The cop rolled his eyes at her, hidden behind his sunglasses, and then glared at the road ahead. "Careful you don't fall out, darlin'," he muttered. "There's worse out there than me."

In the back seat, Ralph swallowed and worked his tongue in his mouth. "I, uh, I'm really grateful for the ride," he said. "How much longer until we're there, do you think? I've, hah, got to get to the city before the end of the week." Shepherd gripped the wheel in both hands, knuckles white, and didn't answer.

[Spectre_j]

Andy didn't need to be told twice. He walked around the counter and locked the front door. He looked to Danny and Maria, "I think we let no one through this door that wasn't on that bus." He took out the key he'd found on the body in the dumpster, "I think we're going to have to trust your friend there, Danny. I'm gonna try to get into that office back there. I'd like to see if there's any more firepower. I don't suppose either of you have seen a gun, or ammunition?" Backwater places like this usually had something behind the counter, preferring not to rely solely on the police in a place that usually had few of them and vast areas for those few to cover.

[Destro_Yersul]

Michael lapsed into silence, staring out the window. They'd passed the sign for the gas haven, it wouldn't be long now. Better to just be quiet, let Shepherd think what he liked, and rejoin the group without anyone getting killed.

[Artemis97]

"There's .38 Special ammo behind the counter. Six rounds missing. Didn't see a gun, though." Maria reports. She heads for the door that connected to the garage, to lock it too, or if she could manage it, the big garage door. Or maybe...

"I'm going to see if that truck'll start. Pull it into the garage. Best to have a way out if we can." She'll head outside into that loathsome heat again, heading for the pickup in the gas station parking lot.

[Blarghy]

"O...ok," Daniel agreed to the phone. "We'll get ready--please hurry." After he hangs up, a few nagging thoughts murmur at the back of his mind. She's coming to get us? So, this lady lives nearby, out here in the middle of nowhere? Why? But the young man's relief for assistance far outweighed his confusion. Wherever help came from, he was ready to accept it.

He frowned at Maria's revelation. "It sounds like the attendant had time to see the killer coming. If the gun wasn't on his body, then the killer probably took it." He swallowed uncomfortably. "Be careful out there. I'll check the garage for anything we can use and make sure you have space for the truck." Daniel figured that Andy didn't need help searching the office; he was probably the most capable of their group.

[Sophistemon]

The cruiser chewed highway, its driver white-knuckled as he kept it steady. The cop had gone silent, his expression slack. In a way this was even more disturbing than the inexplicable malice he had earlier displayed. He moved listlessly now, as though the mind behind those aviator sunglasses had retreated somewhere to focus on something else, something more important than driving at the too-fast speed they were going. The implications of that had Michael's nerves on edge, and the wide-eyed glances Ralph kept shooting him confirmed he felt the same way. The older man chewed his bottom lip and gave Michael a quick nod -- I'm with you, he was saying. If something happens, you can count on me. Suddenly, Mabel lurched up in her seat and pointed forward. "There!" she cried. "I can see it!" Sure enough, the Gas Haven was finally in view and getting closer by the second. The old woman looked across at the cop, and his lack of an expression chilled her. He didn't seem to acknowledge the station at all, and the speed of their travel was unchanged.

Ralph cleared his throat and tapped the wire mesh that divided the car's front from its rear. "Hey," he said, voice thick. "The station's coming up. Don't you wanna slow do-" He was thrown forward with a startled shout, forehead smashing in the mesh and then rebounding, when the cop slammed the breaks and twisted the wheel to pull into the station's parking lot. Tires squealed like dying things and left long streaks of black rubber against the faded asphalt. Mabel herself let out a startled shriek, but earlier experiences had prepared her for this and she caught herself just in time to avoid a similar fate.

Steering deftly, the slack-faced cop pulled his cruiser to idle beside the waiting truck. "We're here," he said, looking into the rear-view mirror.


Andrew used the dead man's key to unlock the door to the garage for Daniel before proceeding to the office. The door here was flimsy, probably two layers of cheap painted wood kept apart by a whole lot of empty air, and the soldier realized the key was just a formality; a teenager could have broken through it with a solid kick. He unlocked the door, pushed it open, and flipped the light switch by the interior frame. It was a small, cramped room dominated by a cheap desk and a filing cabinet. The cabinet was covered in refrigerator magnets commemorating the better known tourist attractions of the American Southwest. One of the drawers was partially open, and Andrew could see row after row of manila envelopes inside. The desk was a cluttered mess of loose papers, files, and logbooks. Situated at the center, wearing a pair of glasses upside down, was the gaping-mouthed head of the man from the dumpster. The stump of the neck, where it had been torn from the body, was a ragged mess of flesh and bone -- but there was no blood. The surface of the desk was cluttered but otherwise clean.


The garage was dark inside, and the darkness made it seem cavernous. Daniel could make out shapes in the shadows, most likely tools and equipment, but he couldn't squint hard enough to be sure. He fumbled for a bit beside the doorway until he found a light switch, and clicked it on. The overheads took a moment, and popped noisily before igniting, but Daniel breathed a sigh of relief when he could see deeper into the garage. As he'd hoped, the threatening shapes turned out to be automotive equipment, well-used but in what appeared to be working order. It was a small garage, only outfitted to handle one vehicle at a time, and it was empty. Daniel cast his eyes around, looking for anything out of the ordinary, and his heart leaped in his chest when he saw a man seated at a desk in the corner, slumped over the table, apparently asleep.


Maria stepped out into the baking heat of the desert just in time to see the cop's cruiser screech to a stop beside the truck. It idled for a moment before the engine died with the turn of a key, and there was another moment before the policeman stepped out, the sun reflecting blindingly from his aviator sunglasses. He faced the empty expanse of the desert for a short second before he made his rounds to the other doors, unlocking them and releasing their occupants to the parking lot. If she focused, Maria could hear him say: "Come on out; it's too hot to stay in without the A/C." Maria's spirits soared as she saw Mabel, Ralph, and Michael leave the car -- though their expressions left something to be desired. The cop turned to face her, and smiled widely. "Hey there!" he called. "Are you the group from the bus? I'm here to help. Are the others inside?"

[Artemis97]

Oh **** a cop. This would have been a welcome sight before they found the dead body. Before Andrew had disturbed the crime scene and gotten himself covered in gore. Before they'd stolen whatever that weird cat thing was. Now? All that made things a whole lot dicier.

"Oh thank god, the police!" Maria said far too loudly. Loud enough to be heard inside, she hoped. "And you guys are alright! We were going to come back and get you once we found help. I couldn't even get the phone to dial 9-1-1. Do you know why the phones are down?" She asks the cop. "Is there some sort of emergency?"

[Blarghy]

Although Daniel heard the squeal of tires outside, it hardly registered. He froze like a deer in headlights at the sight of the "sleeping" individual.

I...don't think...he's asleep...

The young scout fidgeted nervously in the doorway. He thought about approaching, trying to wake the man, but Daniel could only picture himself uncovering something truly gruesome up close. Or what if--implausible though it was--this was even the killer? No, best not to proceed alone.

"M--mister?!" Daniel calls out, his fearful voice hopefully cutting through the thin walls. "Mister Andrew, I found somebody!"

[Destro_Yersul]

Michael gave Maria a look. It was a look that said 'don't trust the cop,' and he gave it while Officer Shepherd had his back turned. Then he gathered up their things, and went to help Mabel get inside.

"Ought to be nice and cool in there. Have you guys found anybody else? There's a truck here."

[Spectre_j]

Hearing Danny's shout, Andy looked around one last time, and walked out of the office. He had no sooner stepped out that he heard Maria say something about a cop. He froze. Nothing that had happened so far would likely endear him to the police, and he had been around enough protests since he came back from the war to have much love for them. "Hang on, kid." He said to Danny, not taking his eyes off the front door. He moved as quickly and quietly as he could past the door to the garage and went behind the counter to grab the box of ammo. He took out his revolver and replaced the missing round, keeping an eye on the door. He spun the cylinder and closed it with a flick of his wrist. He walked backward toward Danny, trying to keep a watch on the front, stopping by the door to the garage. He glanced to his left, and followed Danny's gaze to the shape slumped over the desk. "Oh, **** me sideways." Andrew exclaimed under his breath. "Hey, Danny boy," He said more loudly, "Would you come on out, keep an eye on the front for me?" He didn't want the kid near any more bodies if he could help it. The last one had shaken him up badly enough. He readied the revolver and prepared to step into the garage.

[Blarghy]

"Yeah, yeah," Daniel nodded with some enthusiasm, glad for any excuse to get away from what was almost certainly another corpse. He backed out of the doorway and returned to the main station. For a moment he listened carefully for any sounds of trouble in the garage, but murmurs from outside the store soon caught his ear. Daniel stood well back from the windows, but in the sunlight beyond, perhaps he could see movement.

That's Miss Maria, he thought. And...who's with her?

[Sophistemon]

CHAPTER TWO: SHEPHERD & SHEEP (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZhICl-Rz5c)

The cop eyed Maria from behind the mirrored lenses of his aviator sunglasses, his expression devoid of worry or concern, his placid smile more for her sake than for his own. “Well ma’am, it’s like I told your friends not long ago.” He arced a thumb over his shoulder, indicating his former passengers. “We had that big nasty storm last night, and it’s sure likely it knocked down some cables.” He cleared his throat and spat into the dust, phlegm sizzling on the asphalt. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” he continued. “My biggest concern right now is looking after you folk and making sure you get where you’re going.” The smile widened to show perfect white teeth, like chiclets set in the gumline. Then the smile soured as Michael ushered Mabel past him and inside, and the cop cast his head this way and that to take in the scene. “Don’t take too long, you hear? Get yourselves cleaned up and let’s have everyone together for a little pow-wow about next steps.”


Daniel waited outside the garage as Andrew made his way through the door, straining his ears to hear the murmured conversation he could just barely perceive was going on outside the building. The young man was fidgety, restless, and his mouth had gone dry at the sight of the man at the desk. Andrew had left the door to the office open, and the light inside was still on. While Daniel waited, nervously tapping the toe of his shoe against the cheap vinyl underfoot, that light flickered. For no longer than a human heartbeat the lamp inside was halfway between light and dark, but that momentary flutter was enough to catch – and hold – the scout’s attention.


Ralph followed Michael into the Gas Haven, and even held the door for the other man as he assisted Mabel indoors. The old woman looked frightful, her eyes wide and her twig-like hands clenched in bony fists. She was practically shaking, and the drunk wondered if her heart could take the stress. When he entered behind them, his eyes immediately settled on the beer display. “Oh, thank Jesus,” he said, and went straight for it. He drained the first can in three long pulls and was nursing a second when he made his way back to Michael. “I’ve never been through anything like that in my life,” he said. His voice was strained, a little high. “I almost wish I’d stayed with the bus, you know?”

The old woman shook her head, sniffed, and held back tears. “I’ve been through something like that before,” she said, and went silent. The drunk, knowing better than to press for more information, drank quietly for a moment before looking around.

“This place is dead,” he said. “Where the h***’s the attendant?”


The garage was dimly lit by overhead lamps gone yellow with age. Shadows crouched in corners, and Andrew felt himself falling back into old habits, honed to a razor’s edge in the jungles of Vietnam. His eyes were everywhere at once, his ears open and alert to all sounds. His cautious footsteps echoed as he walked, slowly and carefully, to the figure hunched over the desk. As he got closer, his suspicions were confirmed: a veritable river of blood had washed over the desktop and down to the floor, puddling around the feet of the chair. The corpse’s right hand, which rested on the desktop like a pinned fly, was coated in the stuff. The blood was brown, hardened into scabrous decay, and the acrid reek of decay hung around the desk like a fog. While not nearly as bad as the corpse in the dumpster, it still twisted Andrew’s guts to get a whiff of it. Steeling himself, the veteran circled the desk to get a better look at the dead man, whose head was turned away to face the wall. Andrew’s own blood ran cold when he recognized the man as Marty Puhlman, bus driver, and the method of his death: someone had shoved a screwdriver into Marty’s eye, up to the handle, so that the metal shaft had pierced and scrambled his brain. The other eye, clouded by death, was open and staring.

[Spectre_j]

Andy let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He shook his head, and reached out to close Marty's one undamaged eye. "Ashes to ashes.." He whispered. The hand holding the gun shook, and he heard a cacophony of screams, explosions and staccato gunfire in his head. The sound of the station door opening, and the questioning voice of the drunk from the bus, yanked him back to the present. He took a deep breath, and stepped out of the garage.

Gun still gripped tightly in his right hand, smeared with gore from the dumpster, he knew he was quite a sight. Looking around at the new arrivals, he didn't see the cop. "Dead," He answered the drunk, "And so is the driver, we just found him in the garage. Where's the cop?"

[Destro_Yersul]

"I'm sorry, Mabel." Michael said. "Something strange is going on, though. You notice how his personality changed, soon as we arrived, here? And like Ralph says, nobody but us around. Where'd the driver go? Who owns that truck outside? Things aren't adding up."

[Blarghy]

Daniel's nervous gaze lingered on the office doorway, unsettled by the odd lighting, but weird as it made him feel, they all had much bigger problems. He shook his head, and when he heard the other passengers come inside, he hurried to join them.

"You made it!" he exclaimed gladly. These strangers were still a friendly sight, all things considered. "Listen--there's a killer out here." Then Andy's report made his eyes widen. "The...driver?" Daniel wrung his hands. "So he's not responsible... Maybe it's whoever owns that truck. They'd have to still be nearby; it'd be stupid to just wander off into the desert anyway. But where could they be hiding?" He grabbed his thick hair and squirmed anxiously. Still, there was cause for hope.

"Oh, a police officer!" Daniel paraphrased Andy, though for different reasons. He didn't yet realize the possible complications of their situation. Police were good. Trustworthy. Just what they needed.

"He'll solve this. Should we call that lady back and tell her we don't need help after all? So she doesn't drive out here for nothing. Besides, if she comes across the killer before us and doesn't realize it..." He shudders at the possibility.

[Artemis97]

"I'm awful glad you found our friends, Officer." Maria says to the Sheriff, talking to him outside in an attempt to give the others a chance to pull themselves together. Though what could Andy do about that mess he'd gotten himself into in the dumpster? There was no hiding the blood and the stink. She didn't know about the other body either. At least, she thought, they could prove they hadn't beheaded the poor gas station owner. He'd obviously been dead for a while.

Reconsidering her tactics, Maria heads for the AC of the Gas Haven. "We've had a hell of a time here. There's... there's some things you should see. Things we found. It's not our fault, and we weren't sure what to do, because all the phone lines were playing that damned numbers station."

[Sophistemon]

The air conditioner rattled and hummed in the desert heat, further assisting Maria's attempt to mask her conversation from the group inside. The policeman, eyebrows knit in silent consternation, followed her with the tips of his fingers tucked casually into his pockets. When he stood to listen, it was with a casual ease that the young woman found subtly infuriating. When she finished, the cop smiled a small smile -- his mouth turned ever so slightly up at the corners -- and then issued a long, low whistle. "You know, "it's not our fault" is usually the first thing people say when they've done something wrong." His eyebrows pinched, his eyes narrowed, and then he laughed. "What'd you find then, little lady? Somebody mosey in and take off with a couple candy bars while the attendant's been gone? Someone tag a slur on the bathroom mirror?" Chuckling again, he leaned his back against the wall of the building and stuck one of his hands to hover over the blurring fan of the air conditioner. "As for the station, I wouldn't worry about that. We had the mother of all storms last night; it probably knocked a tower down or something. They'll have it up and running within the week. Until then, folks'll have to get used to relearning their numbers." He reached out with that hovering hand, chilled by the fan, and took Maria by the shoulder. His thumb ran gently along the contour of her collarbone. "You did good staying put," he told her. "It's a good thing, all of us here together."


Ralph choked on his swallow of beer, the drink dripping down his chin as he thumped himself on the chest to clear his lungs. When he could breathe, his eyes red and teary, he sputtered words. "Dead? He's dead? They're both dead!? Just what the f***'s been going on around here?" Mabel moaned, almost silently, and slid down to rest herself on the floor. Ralph turned to Daniel and shook his head with such force that his thinning hair lifted from the scalp. "You got a hold of someone?" he asked, a wave of relief washing over his face. "No, for God's sake, don't call them back. I think... kid, I think we might need them. That cop -- there's something not right about that cop." He looked at Mike, eyes wide. "You tell them," he said. Mabel raised her head, eyes focused.

"There's something not right about this place," she interrupted. "The desert, the cop, even this station. It's all too empty." She closed her eyes, breathed a heavy sigh, and wrapped her arms around herself.

[Artemis97]

Oh Frig, Maria thought as the cop reached out to touch her. A handsy authority figure not taking her seriously. Hadn't she gotten enough of that at University?

She wanted to pull away from him, but knew it would probably just make him angry. And he was the one with a gun and handcuffs, and they were out here alone.

"There's a dead man in the dumpster out back." She said flatly. Hopefully the bluntness of that would jar the man into acting a bit more properly. "We found him when we went looking for the attendant. He's been that way a while. He's missing his head."

[Destro_Yersul]

"It's either empty, or it's full of weird," Michael said. "The cop's different than he was, when we met him. He's too helpful. Too cheery. When he came on us, he was... angrier. Confrontational. People don't just change like that. Like someone flipped a switch in their brain. I don't know what's going on here, but whatever it is, I don't trust it."

He waited a beat, looking around the gas station. "Shouldn't have come. But what choice did I have? What choice for any of us?"

[Spectre_j]

“I don’t know about empty, ma’am,” Andy said to the old woman, “This place is certainly full of horrors.” He shook his head, looking at nothing in particular, trying to think. “Well, Maria is still out there with that cop. I don’t wanna leave her hanging. We need to get her inside and keep the cop out. Anyone got any ideas?” He asked, looking at each of them in turn.

[Blarghy]

Daniel shook his head desperately when Andy got to him, his eyes wide as saucers. A slow, awful thought came to him; he struggled to even voice it.

"Do you think...if the police officer seems bad, do you...could he...be the killer?"

[Sophistemon]

Ralph nodded, his eyes having gotten bleary from the beer he'd quaffed. "That's right," he said. "In the car, on the way here, he was a real a##hole. Kinda violent, you know? Aggressive." He turned to Daniel, who in his drunken state was beginning to remind him of someone. "He was nearby, right? Picked us up not far from here. Could he have been prowling around, looking for other people?" His red eyes widened, apprehension plain on his face. "Jesus," he said. "Do you think he had something to do with the bus breaking down?" Mabel tittered, then pushed herself unsteadily to her feet.

"He had us in the car," she said. "You were in the back, where you couldn't have stopped him. He could have hurt me -- killed me -- then done you. If he is dangerous, he wanted us all together for some reason." She looked at Michael and smiled wanly. "You're right. We need to get her away from him. Even if he's just strange, and not dangerous, it's best we're all together just in case. There's strength and safety in numbers." She looked down at her hands, thin twigs wrapped in dark leather. "I'd be no good if it came to violence," she admitted. "But I'll help where I can. Maybe we should leave, then split up and circle around from different directions? Catch them both in a... what do they call it? A vise? A pincer?"

"He's got a gun," Ralph murmured. "We should grab what we can, just in case. If he's a good guy after all, we can just say we're trying to be careful. After what we've seen, who'd blame us for wanting to protect ourselves from strangers?"


When Maria explained the circumstances of their situation, Shepherd tilted his head so that the sunlight caught his glasses and momentarily blinded her. His grip on the young woman's shoulder loosened at once, and then withdrew so that his hand hung limply at his side. The muscles of his face, when the spots in her vision faded enough for her to take it in, looked to have gone slack beneath the skin. "I'll be d###ed," she heard him mutter. "That's a dog of a different coat." There was movement behind the lenses of his sunglasses as his eyes cast behind her to take in the area. "That changes things, say true it does." At that, the cop once again held out his hand, but this time it was to shake. "My name's Shepherd," he told her. "Lou P. Shepherd, and I'm the law around these parts. Don't worry, I'm going to take care of everything."

[Artemis97]

"Maria Quetzalli." She replies, taking his hand to shake. Not hard, of course, wouldn't want to challenge his authority in anyway, but firmly enough. "Look we're just really weirded out here. First the bus stops and the driver disappears, and then there was that dead bear on the highway, who knows what that's all about, and when we get here the place is deserted. Andy goes looking around back and finds a damned body in the dumpster and it just gets stranger from there."

[Blarghy]

Clearly distraught and torn, Daniel looked between his companions. "But if we're wrong..."

First, there was the possibility of a simple accident. Struggling over a gun sounded pretty risky. He also didn't share Ralph's confidence that everyone would understand their motives. If they couldn't prove that this officer was responsible for the murders, then a judge might call it assault, not self-defense. Daniel didn't want to go to prison. Then again, he didn't want to die either.

"Maybe we could just run for the truck. Shout for Miss Maria and just all drive away. Maybe we can make it."

But then he thought about Miss Amy. Had he called her right into a trap? Daniel began to feel guilty and foolish for dragging some random woman into this deadly situation. They were all in danger, and none of them deserved it, but had he inadvertently killed an innocent person in his moment of panic?

"I don't know..."

[Spectre_j]

Andy tapped the barrel of the gun against his thigh, staring into space while his mind raced. So many variables. Danger around every corner. A trail of bodies. They had to do something.

He looked back toward the office. "Could they trap the cop back there? But how would they disarm him?" He shook his head. He was running out of ideas and time. Maybe an ambush was in order. He looked around, "Does anyone else here have a gun? I think it's time to be hunters, not the hunted."

[Destro_Yersul]

"Lots of folks have guns," Michael said, with a sidelong glance at Andy. "What would we be hunting? Who's hunting us?"

Then something occured to him. "Does that truck outside even run? Because that's a point. The cop's car works, but the bus didn't, and there was nothing wrong with it. It should have been working, it just wasn't."

[Blarghy]

Andy's tough-talk unsettled Daniel a bit, even though he couldn't fully disagree with the veteran; he shook his head mutely at the question and decided not to mention the hatchet in his knapsack. Michael disturbed him even more. He hadn't even considered that they might not have an escape route, whether they wanted to flee or not.

"I filled it with supplies," the scout whispered hoarsely. "But we never tried to crank it."

[Sophistemon]

Mabel heaved a sigh and leaned backwards against the scuffed, age-faded countertop. She listened intently to the conversation, lips pursed together in thought, and her eyes widened at the mention that the truck might not work, that they might be stuck at the cop and at his mercy for a way out of the desert. "There's not enough room in his car for all of us," she said. "Three seats, maybe four if we squeeze the smallest of us together." She glanced at Ralph, and then looked away again before he could see. "We need that truck if we're all going to leave at the same time. At least we could fit some of in the cargo bed." She craned her neck to look at the wall clock hanging behind her, only to groan when she saw the hands hadn't moved from 11:34. "It feels like she's been out there a long time. Should we check on them?"

Ralph, emboldened by the alcohol once again rushing through his system, stamped a heavy foot with enough force to rattle a nearby display of potato chips. "She's right!" he growled. "While we stand around making plans, that girl's out there with that weirdo cop!" He started for the door, taking several steps before he stopped and whirled around to thrust an outstretched finger at Andrew. "You've got some sense," he said. "Like you've seen some s###. Come with me and he might think twice about getting creepy." He cast his gaze over Michael, Daniel, and Mabel. "You three check the truck. If it comes to it, I don't want to need his f###ing car."


Shepherd smiled, his grip on her hand unwavering as he shook. "Mah-ree-ah," he said, sounding out her name in his mouth. "Ket-sah-lee." He gave her hand a squeeze, fingers curling around hers, before he let go. "I like that. It suits you, little bird." He chuckled, then stared up at the sun. "It sounds to me like you've had one doozy of a day, Maria, but I'm 'fraid it's not over yet -- for either of us. Now that a death's involved, we're gonna be here a long, long while until I get things sorted out." He looked back at her and used both hands to shoo her towards the corner of the building. "Go on, let's move this along. I've got to take a look at the body." He walked around her, turning the corner, and the implication to follow was made clear. "Can you remember what it looked like?" she could hear him ask. "Was the decapitation natural, or did it look like a killing?"

[Blarghy]

Daniel nodded quickly to show his approval of this plan, as it didn't force him to violence. Just...grand theft auto. Still, an easier pill to swallow than assault and potentially murder. Even merely having a plan made him feel better; he hated feeling directionless. Extending an arm to Mabel and with a look toward Michael to see his thoughts on all of this, the scout readied himself to venture outside.

Of course, he didn't know that Maria had already taken the truck keys, the poor boy.

[Artemis97]

"Since when is decapitation natural?" Maria asked, following. "But no, it wasn't natural, or an accident. He'd been beaten." She'd seen enough bruises on her brothers after they'd gotten into fights to recognize that much. She really didn't want to be following the cop back towards that wretched scene again, she'd much rather go back inside. Who knows what the others were thinking about this. Especially Andy and Daniel.

[Destro_Yersul]

Michael nodded his assent, and headed straight for the door to check on the truck. This was a time for action, he thought. The one unknown currently in the picture was Shepherd. Everyone else had come from the bus, which made them... well, still unknowns, but not involved as a cause. A problem for later. Right now, the problem was getting out of the desert, and step one was finding out if the truck worked.

[Spectre_j]

Andy looked at the drunk, not liking the sudden aggression. That sort of thing got men killed. But Ms. Mabel was right, Maria had been out there long enough. He wanted to lay eyes on this lawman for himself anyways. "Alright then, Ralph." He said, tucking his revolver behind his back, making sure the tail of his coat covered it up, "Lets you and me take a walk out there, see what we can do to help Maria." He walked toward the door, pitching his voice low as he slid past the big man, "Keep cool, friend." He whispered, "Can't have the cop getting spooked, alright?"

[Sophistemon]

Ralph shot Andy a look as they pushed through the door into the blazing afternoon sun of the desert. "I'm not worried about spooking the cop," he said. "You weren't in the car with the guy; there's something not right about him. I didn't like it, and I don't like the idea of him spending too much time with that girl." He craned his head this way and that, listening for conversation, but all he could hear was a lonely, mournful breeze and the buzzing him of the A/C unit thrumming arrhythmical in the background. "They must have gone around back," he concluded. "Probably to check out the body." He sucked in a breath, gathered his courage, and squared his shoulders for the walk. "I'm not looking forward to this," he said.


Daniel and Michael followed the other men into the parking lot, and strode toward the truck. When they tried the door handles they found them to be both locked and scorching hot, even shaded as it was by the protective canopy above the pumps. After trying both doors, the two are forced to conclude that there's no getting in unless they commit to breaking a window. Speaking of which, the driver-side window is lowered by a third, undoubtedly to let some air in during transit.
Destro, Blarghy, please roll your highest Cliches in the OOC thread.


Shepherd knelt by the headless corpse with a solemn expression on his face. Silently, he extended a hand to press two fingers against what remained of the dead man's carotid artery and waited as though searching for a pulse. After several too-long seconds passed, the cop removed his hand, wiped the bloody fingers against the thigh of his trousers, and stood. "Dead," he said, as thought that explained it. "D### shame." He looked at Maria and worked his tongue in his mouth. "Did he have anything with him? Identification? Personal effects?"

[Blarghy]

"No, no, nooo!" Daniel hissed. "Why is it locked? Why didn't I check before?!" He grabbed a handful of his hair in frustration and might've ranted further, but something inside the truck stopped him. For a moment, he just stared through the window; hesitantly, he nudged Michael.

"That's a gun," he said, his tone hushed now. "A serious gun. Not like the hunting rifles around here. That's, like...a war gun." Daniel pointed out the assault rifle for his companion, in case he couldn't spot it himself.

[Destro_Yersul]

Well now. A serious gun indeed. Michael opens the door to pick it up, maybe see if he can recognise what type it is, then turns his attention back towards the horizon.

"Something's coming. Could be nothing, could be dangerous. Let's get behind the truck."

[Blarghy]

"Miss Amy!" Daniel guessed hopefully. "The woman I called. I found her number back in the store--" he decided to gloss over the grimy details "--and she said she'd come pick us up. That was before the police showed up with you all; I figured she could give us a ride back to the bus and get us all to safety. But now she's going to be in the middle of this big mess..."

He tried not to consider other options. With the luck they'd had today so far, this newcomer could be someone far less friendly. Daniel followed Michael's advice and helped Mabel get to cover, just in case.

[Spectre_j]

“Think I am?” Andy replied. He felt the small of his back where the grip of his gun stuck out of his pants, reassuring himself it was still there as he thought about his last run-in with the law. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Maybe I’m projecting a bit. There’s a lot more reason for a cop to be interested in me beyond these sorry circumstances, Ralph. Now, I’m not a bad man, no more than any other,” He said, clearing his throat, “But, sometimes, you do what’s right and the law still says you have to be punished. Sometimes, you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s been both on more than one occasion. But I’ll tell you this-“ He looked at Ralph, his jaw set and eyes fierce, “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let them take me in.” He marched off, wanting to confront the first adversary in all this he could actually look in the eye.

[Artemis97]

Why check the pulse? Maria wonders, why even touch the body? Even though they had moved it, you still left things where they were, right? Maybe it was more of a ritual thing, always check for a pulse.... yeah, even if he is missing his head? Sure.

"He had a bag with him. Some snacks, a whole load of pot, and a weird padded box with a porcelain cat inside. Some write up on the cat, too, I assume. It wasn't in English, though. Or Spanish. Or Nuhuatl." She adds, a little joke to keep herself sane. "Looked eastern to me."

[Sophistemon]

A shiver almost severe enough to be a spasm passed through the cop as Shepherd straightened to his full height. The sun beamed from his reflective sunglasses and made it nearly painful to look him in the face. His upper lip curled as though he'd smelled something awful before the moment passed and his face went placid again. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs and swelling his chest, before he released the air in a short, irritated gust of hot air. "You didn't mention anything about a cat," he said. His voice was weirdly accusatory. "Why didn't you mention the d### cat?" His tone was petulant, whining, alien to emerge from a man his size. He reminded the woman of a child on the brink of tantrum, a thought only reinforced when he kicked the corpse with enough force to flip it over on its stomach, a gout of liquid gore erupting from the ruined throat to splash wetly on the ground. "Where is it?" he demanded, rounding on Maria. Everything about his posture was alarming, from the hunch in his back to the set of his jaw, teeth grinding. "Where is it, you b###? Where's it hiding?"


Ralph watched Andrew take the lead, and mused over what the man had said. "What f###ing circus are we?" he asked himself, muttering beneath his breath. Still, if the other man were dangerous, at least he was a danger on their side. Ralph had seen enough trouble to know when more was brewing, and the man with the badge was bad news if ever there'd been. Maybe we're all dangerous, he thought. The cop, the kid, the soldier, the girl -- even the salesman, old woman, and I. Maybe that's why we're here. Maybe we... But then the sound of a raised voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and the two of them turned the corner of the building just in time to see Sheriff Shepherd turn on Maria, beefy hands clenched into sledgehammer fists at his sides, the cords of his neck bulging obscenely in his inexplicable anger.

"Where is it?" the sheriff growled, his voice roughly strangled by the tension in his throat. "Where is it, you b###? Where's it hiding?"


The salesman and scout took refuge behind the truck, putting it between them and the arriving cloud of dust. Michael knelt behind cover with the rifle in his hands. It was serious hardware and looked out of place being held by a man of such unimposing description, though it would have looked even more bizarre if held by Daniel, little more than a child himself. They sat there, looking at one another and listening to the wind, for what felt like hours -- but that was only apprehension. It wasn't long at all before they could hear what was coming: a mid-sized engine, pushed to its limit in the heat of the desert, chewing the road as it raced towards them at a breakneck speed. The engine's roar grew louder and louder by the second, until it thundered down on them as the car -- a 1975 Plymouth Fury -- pulled into the Gas Haven lot and parked on the far side of the truck. The engine idled for a moment, coughing in exhaustion, before it cut out. There was silence then, punctuated by the clicking of the overworked engine, until the door opened and someone stepped out. "-herd's here," the two could hear, barely making out a woman's voice over the sound of her footsteps. "Kid?" she called, loud enough to be heard. "Are you here?" Daniel recognized the voice immediately -- it was the woman from the phone.

[Blarghy]

"It's her!" Daniel told Michael, quiet but excited. "Miss Amy, from the phone. I kind of regret calling her, after that weird cop showed up, but I didn't know. Let's just try not to scare her with that gun, ok?" Frankly, it kind of scared Daniel himself. Hopefully it wouldn't cause more problems than it fixed.

He stood up from behind the truck and went to join their new friend (or so one would hope), keeping a wary eye for Officer Shepherd. "Right here, ma'am," he calls out. "Thanks for coming out here, but, the situation has gotten even worse since we talked..."

[Destro_Yersul]

"Sounds like she recognises the cop. Not sure I like that..." Michael muttered to himself. He held the rifle in a relaxed position, and followed Daniel. For now, he decided to remain quiet, let 'Miss Amy' do the talking. See what she said before he decided to trust her or not.

[Artemis97]

Maria backs up about five steps when the cop starts cursing at her. God what was wrong with him?! It was just a stupid statue. Why was it so important? Why did he seem to know what it was?

"I took it inside! It's in the gas station." She explains, holding her hands up, as if to ward him off, then points back towards the front of the building.

[Spectre_j]

As soon as Andy rounded the corner, he had his gun in his hand. No thought, just instinct. He could see the look of terror on Maria's face as she backed away from the cop, hands held up in front of her as if to protect herself. He wasn't a cop-killer, despite what they said, and he didn't want to prove them right, even if this pig deserved it.

He took aim at the cops back and shouted, "Stand down! Put your ****ing hands up! Right ****ing now!"

[Sophistemon]

Shepherd froze, his advance on Maria stopped in an instant by the veteran's thundering voice. "Swearing in front of a lady," he chided, hands lifting skyward. "How uncouth." He winked at Maria, the malice gone from his face like someone had changed the channel on his personality. "I'm an officer of the law, friend, and you're interfering in official police business. I'm guessing you have a gun pointed at my back -- not very sporting of you. How's about I turn around and make sure you're not just wasting my time?" He looked down at Maria, and his lips split wide in a teeth-bearing smile. "Why don't we talk this over a awhile, just the few of us? I'd hate to see someone get hurt over a little misunderstanding."

Ralph took a step forward and cautiously put a hand on Andrew's shoulder. "M-maybe you should just..." He swallowed, nervous, red eyes bleary. "Shoot," he said. "He's not okay. There's something not okay about him, or about any of this. Maybe we're safer without him."

Maria could see the cop's eyes harden. "That'd be a mistake," he warned. "We're in a tight spot right now, to be sure, but I don't think you folks want to be cop-killers. Not in this town, not in this desert. Let's not forget, I'm the only one who can get you out."


Daniel's breath caught in his throat when the woman turned enough in his direction for him to get a good look. She was older than he, by only a few years, and dressed casually. Cut-off jean shorts, hiking boots, and a tee-shirt advertising a band he didn't recognize made up the whole of her outfit. Her exposed skin, of which there was plenty, was so heavily inked in tattoos of such dizzying complexity it was impossible for the young man to tell where one design ended and another began. She smiled when she saw him, and lowered the barrel of her weathered hunting rifle. "Hey, kiddo," she said. "Fill me in on what's happening?" And then Michael walked into view, and the woman's eyes narrowed when she saw the firepower he'd brought with him. "Where'd you get that monster?" she asked.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Found it," Michael said, "thought maybe the firepower would be useful." He nodded in the direction of the police car. "You know Shepherd?" Once again, he waited to see her reaction, keeping his statements short.

[Blarghy]

Momentarily stunned by her appearance, Daniel swallowed nervously and looked back at Michael. He could sense the distrust and couldn't really blame the older man. Still, Amy had (probably) come to help them, and he couldn't bring himself to be rude by not answering her question to at least some degree, even under these awful circumstances.

"We found another body," he lamented, the pitch of his voice rising. "And that cop...the others say he's..." Daniel trailed off. He struggled to find the right word, but in his silence, his distraught expression said enough.

[Spectre_j]

His finger tightening on the trigger, Andy tried to reign in the fear and anger he felt. "Listen, ***hole," He began, making it a point to swear, "I don't have time for the "Mayberry" routine. You sure as hell aren't Andy Griffith, and I am pretty ****ing sure you aren't out here on "official" business. I don't want to shoot you. I could, but I don't wanna. I've killed enough men that putting a bullet in you would just be adding another tally. Just a number. So unless you want to end up number twenty-seven, don't move, answer my questions, and maybe we all walk away. Tell me, what are you looking for? What were you yelling at Maria about?"

[Artemis97]

Oh god, what was he thinking?! Pulling a gun on the cop!?

Expletives in a trio of languages rolled through Maria's mind.

"It's that damned cat statue. I mentioned it and he went nuts!" She explains, backing away further. Somewhere out of the line of fire from both Andy and Shepherd, hopefully.