《Catch Me If You Can (a PicYourStory entry)》 “PicYourStory:” Setting Up The Story So, a few weeks ago, fellow RRL member Scribble posted a contest of sorts in our reader group, which was patterned after the PicToStory event that the group ran before. Heres his announcement: Pendragonians, lurkers, teachers and bots! We are happy to announce a new event! Similar to our old and loved PicToStory, we set out to make something with a taste of the golden days, and with a glimpse to the future. The new event will last for a duration of 2 weeks, with a break period of 1 week between each event. In the break period, the entries for the event will be judged/evaluated, and a winner with certain privileges will be chosen. Also, will be planned a different event to last in the break week later on, for those who couldn''t participate (for being absent,) or for those who didn''t enjoy the themes and decided to pass. Now remember, the purpose of these events are for you to learn, challenge yourself, re-evaluate your writing, and perfect it. The event: Pic Your Story (catchy, isn''t it?)This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. A selection of 3 pictures, and a theme to guide it. You are to select 1 picture, and write a short story revolving around the theme, supplemented by the chosen picture (which must be included, doesn''t matter how. You can ask for examples from the mods or senior members) The word-count required was minimum 250 words, and a maximum of 6,000, and the pictures that were selected were these three: So, taking Scribbles words to heart, I joined this writing event to exercise my writing chops, and perhaps have another option to improve my skills. Sadly, though, Scribble sent out a message a few days ago that he didnt get enough entries to push through with it, so it was canceled. So sad. Anyway, I told Scribble that Im going to post my story in RRL rather than let it go unseen. He agreed, and here it is. I know it has several shortcomings, so I hope the reader keeps this in mind: the storys not that well-paced and developed because it was a bit rushed; the story will seem a bit truncated since I had to keep to the 6,000-word limit; and the plot itself may feel clunky because I had to keep to the theme/imagery of the picture I selected, and I felt a bit boxed by this. But, despite this, I think the storys still a passably good yarn, and I hope you enjoy. So my story, Catch Me If You Can, an official entry to the PicYourStory writing event, follows. Chapter 1: Tanker Catch Me If You Can! by Bobbi-C (aka "Bobbie in the Far East" in PenDragon) (an official entry to the May 5 PicYourStory contest in the PenDragon RRL Readers Group) One: Tanker
Here I am again, running down yet another ruined street, or perhaps highway was the more proper word given how wide this particular elevated roadway was. I dodged around the ancient, disintegrating metal vehicles scattered in the way, the road feeling more like some prehistoric dried riverbed littered with boulders, and me running full-tilt between the vehicle-boulders, in the direction of the rising sun, my pursuers only meters away. I ducked behind one of the many yellow colored tanker-vehicles and took cover. I then pulled out the pulse rifle I had borrowed from the enemy.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I looked for one of the bigger vehicles C the ones shaped like elongated metal tubes C and fired one of my precious irreplaceable cartridges into it. My little missile flew straight and true to the large metal tube-tanker, and it exploded as I intended it to. Even though it was centuries old, maybe even hundreds of centuries old, owing to excellent seals, there were enough petrochemical traces still in these tankers to cause a spectacular explosion. I felt the elevated roadway shudder, and a large chunk of the pavement cracked and fell into the rushing water that had taken over the lower roadway below. That effectively isolated me from my hunters. Relief. Take that you stupid cops! I yelled. Youll never catch me! The Nebula Police enforcers fired their sidearms at me, but I was able to creep around the metal cars and they never even came close to hitting me. Sure, they could have killed me if they really wanted to, but that wasnt the point. And apparently they havent caught on to my trick of firing at tanker trucks yet. As to my previous trick that made the new chasm, my pursuers wont be able to come after me for now. Maybe itll take them more than a couple of days to get over the break in the road, maybe even weeks if theyre forced to turn back and find another way altogether unless they get some airborne reinforcements. I doubt that, however. Theyve been chasing me for more than a couple of months now, and I have yet to see any shuttle interceptors or APCs. I found that curious, though. Earth should have gotten their emergency signal by now, and sent a rescue ship, or reinforcements, for these guys. After thirty minutes or so, I was already three miles away from the enemy, or maybe even more. By that time, my backpack started to beep. Great! Food! Chapter 2: Dinnertime Two: Dinnertime
I looked for a convenient place to sit and decided on a fallen two-wheeler. I daintily dusted the thing and sat down. I had to laugh at that. I mean, dusting where I was sitting down. Ingrained behavior one picks up from a civilized former life. Its a wonder I didnt tuck a little bib in my jumpsuits collar before having supper. Supper heheh. That still sounds funny C supper implies family around a table and talking about their day while they enjoyed a meal together. At least to me. And this was not the case now I put the utility backpack down and pulled out the two access drawers near its bottom. The backpack was actually what military people and survivalists called a solar powered food resequencer. My old cellmate, an ex-Special Forces Marine called these resequencers the best thing since sliced bread, and it would allow a Marine to survive anywhere almost indefinitely. I dont really know how it worked. All I knew is that it made food. The packs drawers were actually the food resequencers containers where any organic material I put into the receptacles on top would be resequenced into thousand-calorie meals in each of the drawers, each being about two pounds max. The food produced would depend on what I set in the packs computer. I was lucky enough to have, ummm, liberated a model with about a thousand programs loaded into its memory, giving me a choice of a thousand different meals, and it would take care of simulating the meal with the necessary nutrients, carbohydrates, faux fiber, minerals, et cetera, with the same texture, taste and color. I would regularly put a couple of drops of my saliva or sweat onto a little plate before activating the thing, and the machine would tailor the food according to what it thought I needed in terms of nutrients. Amazing device, actually. Also extremely expensive. But then again, I didnt really pay for it. The pack also produced drinkable H2O, also extracted from the organic material I fed into it, and could produce about 2 CC of water per minute, which it kept in a built-in two-liter bottle clipped to the back. It couldnt replicate coffee, though, or beer or juice or whatever C just lukewarm water. Yeah. I failed to pick up a pack that could produce hot and cold meals and drinks, so I had to make do with cold meals and just plain, lukewarm H2O.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. But beggars cant be choosers. I sat down and tucked into my dinner. Each of the containers was less than one third full, but that was fine. Because, if they were full, Id have had to divide each into three portions so that Id have enough to eat for the rest of the day: the pack could only produce a max of four pounds of food per day. Anyway. I had an excellent meal of cold meatloaf in one container (with what looked like carrots and green beans embedded into it), and very tasty, but cold, mashed potatoes laced with really tasty gravy in the other container. The pack provided one C just one C utensil, which I think was called a sfork. But that was good enough to comfortably tuck into my meal. My meal wasnt really meatloaf or mashed potatoes, but for all intents and purposes, they were the closest to being the real thing. And, just as tasty, too. While I was finishing off my meal of faux beef and faux potatoes, I decided on my next two. I looked through the menu and selected spaghetti and meatballs, and the other fresh fruit C maybe apples this time. I took a mouthful or water, rinsed my mouth and smeared some of my saliva on the silver plate near the top. I then activated it, punched in my selection and, by tomorrow morning, Ill have my imitation spaghetti and fake sliced apples ready for breakfast. I put back the containers, stuck the sfork into its little slot, and started the cleaning routine. I then pulled out the remaining organic material that was wrapped in its own little cellulose package the pack made just to keep the residue in, and threw it over the side of the roadway. Not to worry, I said to no one in particular, completely biodegradable and ecology-friendly. It wasnt that funny anymore, but at least I could still chuckle a little bit. I then grabbed handfuls of grass, weeds, pieces of wood or whatever organic material I could find, stuffed them into the receptacle where the waste organic material used to be until I couldnt put in any more. I then settled my pack on my shoulders and started walking. This time, my walk was a lot more leisurely since I wasnt worried about being chased for the moment. There was still a little light left so I might as well make use of it and get some more miles under me. The direction I was walking was towards what I saw in a wall mural several weeks ago as toward some sort of space center (the complete name was hard to make out except for the words space center). My hope was, when I got to this space center, Id find something that will help me get off this godforsaken dead planet and back home. Or at least back to civilization. My obsession about getting home was growing. Sometimes, I would even catch myself thinking that maybe Id turn myself over to the cops just so I could get back to civilization, even if that meant going back to prison. But, hopefully, my resolve would hold up long enough that I wont do that. Kay. Lets start walking! Chapter 3: Ironic Three: Ironic
I was a lifer. Imprisoned for embezzling close to a billion from several Sydney and Melbourne companies. And I never really fought it, even if I never really did it. I knew I couldnt fight the charges because I couldnt fight the people framing me. So I decided to adjust my expectations, and went to the high-security facility that the Republic put up. But I was a good lifer. And, because of good behavior, I became eligible several years later for parole (apparently being sentenced to life imprisonment doesnt exclude the possibility of parole). And when I was up for parole the first time, lo and behold, my parole was approved. I suppose my story in the media had made the rounds and the people felt sympathetic to my plight. No one really believed I was guilty anyway.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. But, the carrier I was on that was on the way back to Earth (which also carried the police escort that was currently after me) had a big engine failure mid-flight. And instead of a soft landing somewhere in New York, We found ourselves crash-landing in this forgotten corner of the galaxy. No one survived except me and the officers after me, but instead of pulling together for mutual protection and benefit, the lead officer, Lieutenant Whatsisface, decided to keep me locked up while they went about finding what went wrong and what needed to be done. But I didnt wait that. I grabbed what I could and ran away. So thats how I went from upstanding citizen to convict to parolee to escaped fugitive. I had tried reasoning with these officers but these were not exactly the best thinkers around C they were indoctrinated (read brainwashed) to like an inch of their lives, leaving no room for any free thought at all anymore. All they knew was that they were after a dangerous fugitive that must be brought to justice and be made to face the authorities. A parking meter had more smarts than these human automatons. If we only made it to Earth Chapter 4: Human Planets Four: Human Planets
I was grateful that, whatever planet this was, at least it was a human-settled planet, and I could read a lot of the text that was left, printed on street signs or the walls of buildings, or printing on the vehicles. As I walked, I had to marvel at the similarity of the vehicles to the cars and trucks and other things I knew. I had to wonder who had settled this planet. Over the centuries, there had been thousands and thousands of colony ships that went missing, and there would always be some piece in the news outlets about some long-lost colony or expedition that was just found. It was, in fact, so commonplace that not many gave these news items much attention anymore. And this was clearly a planet colonized by the crew of one of these lost ships. I stopped by one of the broken-down cars. It had caught my attention because this one was colored red, and had lines indicative of some kind of sports car. It even looked very close to the car I had. Or rather, what I used to have. I imagine my ex-wife has it now. I ran a finger along its streamlined flank, making a deep groove in the thick patina of dirt and dust on it. Beneath all that crap, the cars colors were still bright. I was intrigued. I tried to open the door but couldnt budge it, of course. Too many years. Disappointed, I left the car and decided to continue on, but, seeing how dark it was getting, I decided to look for shelter instead.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. I walked down the street and found yet another large truck. This time it didnt have the tube-shaped trailer, but a squarish cargo container. But it was still big. With all the energy I had, I pulled the back door open with a loud metal screech, and climbed up and into the metal box. Using my solar-powered flash, I noted there were no animals or whatever that was using it as a den or something, and it was extremely dry. Thank God. I then used the side of my boot to push part of the one-inch layer of detritus out of it, or at least enough to give me room to lie down. Then I struggled to close the metal door so that there was just a foot or so of opening to hide me from whatever predators were out there, whether imagined or real. With a great earth-shattering metal screech, the door finally moved, leaving me just the opening I wanted. I sighed, took off my pack, unrolled my makeshift bedroll and settled in for the night. I looked up at the corrugated ceiling of the metal shipping container, marveling at how human technology seemed so similar to each other, even though billions of miles, and hundreds of years, separated them from each other. A sad thought. I felt this isolation, especially during the night. In the distance, I heard the howling of some wolf-creatures that I first encountered a few days after I found myself on this planet. I brought out my pulse rifle just in case, hoping I wont need to use one of the precious cartridges. I only had forty-eight left, and I need to conserve them. I could use the utility knife that came with the pack, but I was realist enough to know I wouldnt survive a wolf attack if I only had the knife. What I needed was some kind of bow and arrow, imagining myself to be a reincarnation of that twentieth-century superhero called Rambo. Superhero Was Rambo a superhero? I didnt know. I doubt anyone knew anymore. These twentieth century figures all ran together in my mind. But Rambos bow had the advantage that its arrows could be recovered and used again and again, or even make some from scratch. I imagined I knew enough about bows and arrows that I could fabricate my own arrows. As I was thinking these things, I fell asleep. Chapter 5: A Pack of Wolves Five: A Pack of Wolves
When I woke up, I found the status light of my pack blinking. Breakfast again. Before anything, though, I got the bit of gel that the pack also produced, put it in my mouth and used a mouthful of water from the bottle to rinse my mouth out with the antibacterial gel C this was it. No toothbrush for me. I then freshened up as best I could with half of the water in the bottle. Then I had my breakfast. The containers were about a third full again, and I enjoyed my spaghetti and fresh apples. And in less than thirty minutes, I had finished my morning routine. - - - - - Judging by the position of the sun, it was almost noon when I was attacked by wolves. But they clearly havent seen a human before so I made a lot of noise to scare them away. It did help a little because they didnt bother to close in further. But, when one of them, perhaps the pack leader, ran towards me, growling and teeth bared, I reacted instinctively and threw a rock at him. I hit him right on his snout and he yelped and jumped backward. Luckily, I was on target with my rock, and I could see blood oozing out from a large gash on his snout, and it took the fight right out of him. In adventure videos, this would be the time when the wild feral wolves would jump the hero, so before that could happen, I fired one of my cartridges into the largest group. In one fell swoop, I took out ten of the fifteen wolves (that included the pack leader), and the rest scattered in fear. For good measure, I threw rocks at the unhurt ones that I could still reach, and I got another with a lucky throw, and he limped away with the others. I didnt know much about wolf behavior, but I had a suspicion these would be back again. So Id better start being careful now. Tonight, Id probably be sleeping among the branches of the biggest tree I could find.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. I used the knife and cut up one of the wolf carcasses, knowing these rich sources of protein would allow my pack to produce better food later, and all without worrying about rabies or other viruses, parasites, bacteria, dirt or whatever. I put as much of the meat in the pack, reset it with a best option setting to allow it to pick the best option based on the organic material in its hopper, and I moved on. I desperately wanted to see some more signs that would tell me I was still going the right way, but there were none. I just followed the main flow of traffic, i.e. the streets where there was a large concentration of vehicles, and continued on. In the distance somewhere behind me, I heard some commotion C human-sounding commotion, and I concluded that my friends had found a way and were closing in on me. And my use of my rifle probably gave them a clue to where I was. Dammit. Hopefully, I would be fast enough that they wouldnt be able to catch up with me. - - - - - The air was unusually clear and clean smelling, and the sun, though bright, was pleasant since there was a cool breeze in the air. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine I was back home, maybe near the little park near my old house where I usually spent free afternoons with my wife just relaxing. But those days were long gone. I found what might have been a kind of bus station, and there were several painted metal signs tacked to the walls of the ruined building. In one of them, I saw some half-worn printing where I made out the words cape and space center. It seemed I was on the right track. I tried to decipher the rest of the sign, but there was virtually no paint remaining. From what was left, I deduced that the space center was due southeast. That was good. Now I had a direction to follow. I looked around for anything I could salvage but there was nothing. So I continued on. In the distance, I heard five loud explosions. Maybe my pursuers encountered more of the same wolves I ran into. One can only hope. Good luck with them, guys, I said. Frankly, though, I hope they eat you up. I laughed and laughed. Weak-assed joke, but its better than nothing. My pack dinged. What? Its done already? Well Maybe Ill have my dinner early today. As soon as I found a place I can hole up in, I think Ill stop and have some dinner. So I resumed, and I saw what I suppose was a ruined motorcycle shop. Oh, how I wish some of those motorcycles were working. I could just imagine how much faster I would be if I had a motorcycle to ride Even though the hope was futile, I still went in and looked around. And as I thought it would be, there was nothing there I could use. Except Towards the back, against the wall were two bicycles and several bits of climbing equipment, like spiked hammers, pitons, half-disintegrated boots with what looked like clip-on spikes on their soles. Above the bikes were hung lengths of climbing rope hand-rolled up in loose rolls. They were probably made of some kind of synthetic long-lasting material since they were still intact while everything else had disintegrated. What interested me, though, were the bikes. A bike might just be the ticket for me. But Most of the parts of the two bikes were still serviceable, except that the tires were totally gone, and the chains, gears and connections had totally seized. Damn. Chapter 6: Going For A Ride Six: Going For A Ride
The following morning found me still in town. I had found a place to sleep on a second floor apartment the night before - a half-collapsed building - and had brought in with me my new treasures C the climbing equipment I found, as well as the ropes. I sure wished the bikes were still usable. I had enjoyed a nice meal last night. It was equivalent to a Salisbury steak complete with gravy and a side of vegetables. The only thing that detracted from it was that the steak was shaped like a brick, as usual, and the veggies and gravy was mixed in with the steak, and it wasnt warm. But I dont mind that anymore. Seems the resequencer can reproduce more varied things if the organic material I put in was more than just leaves and twigs. I also enjoyed a big portion of cherry pie but, again, it was all mushed into a package shaped like a brick. But who cares. This morning, unfortunately, was more of the same since I had not had the opportunity to replenish the reservoir with more organics. But then I realized something. I hurriedly switched off the sequencer and waited for the pack to seal the remaining organics in the usual cellulose bag. As soon as it was done, I pulled it out.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. In the transparent bag was what was perhaps half a liter of animal fat and grease as well as other bits of things Id rather not look at. Yes! I went through the remnants of stuff in the apartment and found what I was looking for - a couple of glass bottles. I dont know what they contained originally but they were just what I wanted. I gingerly poured the oil and grease off and into the bottles, and it yielded two half-full bottles of oil. I got my new loot, my precious bottles and everything else, and headed back to the bike shop. Once I was there, I took a look at the two bikes again. This time, I inspected them in more detail, and everything seemed to be in order, except that they could do with a lot of lubrication. I looked for some tools and broke them down to their component parts. I then soaked them in the animal fat, and after a while, I started moving them around, especially the chain. The ages of hardened dirt, dust and rusty iron yielded to my manipulations. The thicker animal grease I saved for the wheel and steering column hubs and, by lunchtime, I had a working bike, save for the tires. What I used as replacement tires was some of the climbing ropes. They had a large enough cross-sectional diameter that they fit in the rims. I then cut them to the proper lengths, melted the ends and butted the melted ends together. Et voila! Instant puncture-immune tires! I picked the bike that I had assembled using parts from both bikes, and broke down the rest of the parts for spares. I then rummaged around and found two big wire baskets, and mounted one to the front handlebars and another over the back wheel guard, and then filled them with the parts and the other loot. Hopefully the oil doesnt get too rancid too quickly. Anyway, here I go on my bike! And as I pedaled away, my head was filled with Queens Bicycle Ride and Cmon Let Me Ride by Skylar Grey and Eminem. Chapter 7: Making Good Time Seven: Making Good Time
I found that I was doing great time, but I did find myself almost skidding into disaster a few times C the rope tires didnt exactly have great traction. So I slowed down a lot. But, still, I was doing great C at least five times better than my regular pace. I was now doing about 10 miles per hour, and, if Im lucky, Ill probably do about fifty miles by the end of the day. While I was leisurely pedaling along, I ran across another pack of wolves that were chowing down on what looked like a dead bear. But as soon as I came close, they yelped and scattered away. Maybe it was the smell of the wolf grease that scared them. Anyway, I stopped. It was a fresh carcass, so I chopped up some chunks of bear flesh, chucked them into my packs reservoir, and continued on. Given my good experience when I discovered the bike, I decided to look for another nice town (with quotes around the word nice, of course, since nice is relative). Eventually, I found another town and yet another bus station. I couldnt find any maps with the words cape, space and center. The best I was able to do was to find one that had space on it. But this one was better since the map was fairly intact, and it showed directions to something with that fragmented label of space.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. I crossed my fingers that this was indeed the space center I was looking for. And as per the map, it was only a hundred miles away. And with my bike, I might actually get there by tomorrow night. I wanted to start going right away, but the light was starting to go. It would be so ironic if I just had an accident a day away from my destination, so I decided to postpone my ride, and look for somewhere to hole up for the night. As I was searching for a new place, the concrete right beside me exploded. I was peppered with little bits of rock and concrete but I was mostly unhurt. I crouched and ran to my bike, grabbed my own rifle and pushed the bike behind the ruins of a small building. How did they get here so quickly? As bad as these assholes were, they really didnt know any better, and I didnt really want to hurt them. But, at this point, it was either them or me. As one-track-minded as these a-holes were, they were good at their job. Ive been lucky so far, but my luck will run out eventually. What can I do? They had more skills, there were more of them, they were better equipped and they were fanatically dedicated to capture me. What do I have? Well they dont know I had the bicycle - - - - - I circled back and now I was behind them. Clearly they didnt know I could do so this rapidly because they werent looking around for me, and were concentrating on the place where I used to be. I looked up and saw a ten-story office building looming over them so I aimed roughly halfway up the building, I then fired, and the building collapsed on top of them. Their armor will definitely keep them alive, but with enough luck, I should be very far away before they dig themselves out. I got on my bike and pedaled away. Chapter 8: Road Signs Eight: Road Signs
As I pedaled, I got tired enough that I was starting to fear getting into an accident. I guess I had to find a place to get some rest soon. Based on the half-obscured and half-faded street sign I just passed, I was crossing a bridge called Warren Bridge, or something like that. As usual, it was cluttered with a lot of broken-down vehicles. I went down to the access road right beside it and kept pedaling. Eventually I came up to a street called Gary Street, and saw a nice convenient place that was more or less intact, and standing separate of the other houses. - - - - - I got a head start the following day, and was already on the move maybe thirty minutes after sunrise. With my new bike, I proceeded on another one of those elevated highways I discovered was called I-95, and I had just passed a green turnoff sign that said Emerson Street. I, of course, ignored that and proceeded in the same direction. Everything was curiously familiar, although back home, we didnt have so many highways, or highways this wide. But everything seemed so familiar. A feeling of dj vu was growing in me, and it was my hope that Id be going home soon and see the real thing before these feelings got worse. The bike was doing well, and my repairs were holding, but the improvised rope-tires were irritatingly slippery. Still, I was doing so much better compared to me on foot. I looked up at the mid-morning sun, and given how cloudless it was, the temperature was getting up there. I was wondering if my old bike could hold up C I could tell my lubrication was starting to melt away. Luckily, I still had some of the oil left in the bottles. I sniffed the animal fat and it hasnt gone rancid yet. I decided to stop and pour some of it into the chain, the gears and the steering column link.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. As I waited for the oil to cover the friction surfaces, I decided to have a meal again. I finished off the remainder of the food in my pack and, when I was done, took out the cellulose bag full of residue, making sure to drain the oil into the bottles, and threw the remainder to the other lane. - - - - - Having rested enough, and ensuring my bikes main parts were well lubricated again, I pushed on. I passed several places, one of them called the Twelve Mile Swamp. As one would expect, the place was sort of swamp-like, with nature taking back whatever humans have built over. This gave me an opportunity to refill my packs reservoirs with more organic detritus, and then used my utility knife to cut through the few vines that were in my way. I came upon yet another broken-down building, with a sign proclaiming it the Flying J. It looked like some kind of mini-mall, with what looked like restaurants. There was nothing there of value, of course, except that it was surrounded by large vehicles, several of which were of the kind I slept in a couple of nights ago. And like before, I slept in one of the metal containers, leaving just a crack open so I could get some ventilation and see out. This was the longest Ive ever traveled, and I suppose thats why I slept straight away. At least thats the benefit of being so tired - this was the first time I slept through the night. I guess thats a good thing, too, since, when I woke up, I found that my pursuers had passed through the parking area during the night. That they had gained on me was surprising. I can only assume they were able to recover some of their equipment, but maybe not the detecting equipment since they didnt find me. Looking out, I felt it was fairly safe to open up the container doors wide open, and I let the cool morning air in. I dangled my legs over the side as I sipped at my water and dug into my faux corned beef and hash. I looked at the morning sun, and I felt good. This is the day Ill reach the space center. I could feel it. I filled my packs reservoir with fresh organics C leaves, pieces of wood, assorted bramble C and I headed out. As I walked my bike back to the I-95 roadway, I looked back at the truck that gave me shelter last night, saying a silent thank you. Behind it, I could see the entire Flying J compound. At the very front, there was a restaurant called Dennys. So long to you, Dennys, I thought. Hope to not pass by this way again. I chuckled at that, got on my bike and pedaled away. Dennys I thought. That sounds familiar. Chapter 9: Tail-End Charlie Nine: Tail-End Charlie
When it was the middle of the afternoon, I saw a small pile-up in the middle of the highway. This was an honest-to-goodness accident, and I saw two of the cars actually flipped over. Out of some morbid curiosity, I started inspecting the cars. The two cars flipped over looked really badly damaged. By the accident, I mean. I touched the bottom of the cars, and they were more-or-less intact. This one was curiously a rounded kind, not like the others - those had the same general lines, and this one was a bit different. Ive seen a few of these in the ruins that Ive passed by, and I had that feeling of dj vu again, this time stronger. As I walked around the vehicle, I herd something go ping. Maybe I dislodged something. I looked underneath, and I saw something shiny on the concrete. I stretched and picked it off the floor. What it turned out to be was a circular metal thing that had what looked like chrome chevrons inside a chrome circle. It must have fallen from the hood of the overturned car, and, as I held it, the little ornament was so very familiar. I didnt know why, but the feeling persisted.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. As I pedaled, I saw something moving, glinting in the distance. Using my binoculars, I saw it was my pursuers. No wonder they got ahead of me. Obviously, they got a couple of the little utility trucks from the ships hold working again, and though only designed to move stuff around in the cargo hold, apparently they were able to repurpose them as pursuit vehicles. Not very good pursuit vehicles, though, since both of the trucks were moving at a slow twenty or twenty-five miles per hour. That was still faster than me, though, so thats how they were able to catch up and actually get past me. That was fine, I thought, so long as they dont realize that theyre now ahead of me. I was playing tail-end Charlie now. All throughout the rest of the day, I kept a close watch on them with my binoculars, noting that they were still moving forward, and still ahead of me. But at around 4PM, or what I thought of as 4PM, I saw them turn onto another wide highway, as the bulk of the ruined cars were flowing in that direction. Recalling the maps Ive seen, my intention was to keep going straight. In an hour, I had reached the point where they turned off, and in yet another hour, I was what I now knew was the space center. I pulled up to the side of a big concrete sign. Pulling away the weeds and the vines covering it, I confirmed that I was now at my goal. I knew where I was. I couldnt help it. I started to cry. Swiping at my tears, I got back on my bike and proceeded into the ruined center. Chapter 10: Futility Ten: Futility
I looked up at the big, squarish building, and I could still see traces of the red, white and blue paint that was painted in the upper corner of the building. I reached out and felt the roughened texture of the weathered concrete. I was amazed that this structure was still up. Inside, I could just glimpse the metal structure inside. Possibly a spacecraft. At this point, I didnt really care if it was still repairable. Truth be told, I knew that I didnt really have the skills, much more the resources to actually repair it. But when you are at the end of your hope, I guess you tend to delude yourself, and actually manufacture hope when there was really none to be had. As I contemplated the very large spacecraft assembly building, I heard the whine of electric motors. Stop right there, the voice of the lieutenant yelled. Dont move! That was ridiculous because I wasnt moving. Get off that bike and raise your hands! Why? I asked.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Because we got you. After months of chasing you, we finally got you! I could hear the gloating in his voice. Why? What do you mean why? Because youre under arrest! Several of his people started running towards me. I wasnt going after my rifle so they werent firing. I mean, why put me under arrest? The Lieutenant laughed. Because youre a criminal! And we need to bring you back home His voice lost a bit of its confidence. I mean, as soon as the rescue expedition finds us. I got off the bike and turned to face him. The lieutenant brought up his rifle again, and pointed it at my head. Dont move! he yelled. Do you really think there will be anyone coming for us? I asked. Of course! I mean I mean, there will eventually be I mean He lost his determined demeanor. I mean, it might take time but, eventually, someone will come for us. He tightened his grip on his rifle. And when they do, then well bring you back home, and bring you to face justice. I might have reacted to that before, but not now. But, Lieutenant, I said, dont you know where you are? He didnt expect that. What? he said. Lieutenant C were already home. This is Cape Canaveral. Everyone stopped. Were in the United States of America. I mutely pointed at the big building, and, now that I told them where we were, they finally recognized the almost-completely-faded painting of the flag on one side, and the blue NASA logo on the other side. Oh, my God, the one beside me whispered. What happened? Its not true another one said. I felt beyond sad now. I tried to think of what to do now. But I didnt know. Instead, I decided to take off my pack. I took out the containers, sat on the concrete and started eating my dinner. It was pork chops this time. I really wished the food wasnt cold. - The End -