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Broken down in the middle of nowhere, with little to no mechanical knowledge, he's stranded in the desert. Perhaps it's just a matter of patience.
~1.6k words
NEXT
Had fun writing this one :D Got to include a car AND truck. Insanity.
I’d been driving down that road for three entire hours. Three more until I would arrive at the next service station. Beyond the edge of the pavement is nothing but dry shrubbery and dry, scorching heat. It’s things like this that make me question my life. A courier for the mafia…by the gods, I’d rather do anything else. At least every moment I’m on the road is a moment away from my blackmailers.
They gave me an older car for this specific trip. Apparently because the usual was compromised. It’s a black 70s something muscle car. Not exactly great on fuel, which is why I brought as many fuel cans as I could pack into the trunk. I’m no car buff, but it certainly stands out on the streets, even though it’s entirely black. My least favourite part is that the AC broke an hour down the Ghost. It’s sweltering in here now. I was also told the package could survive the heat if needed, which I’d hope so, because if it couldn’t, they’d be out to kill me. The coolant temperature had been slowly rising for the past two hours since it went out, but they assured me it wouldn’t break down.
Ghost is my nickname for this road. All there is to accompany you is the sound of your own rumbling engine, the wind rushing by the windows, and the sound of your tires ripping off the road; all at 160 kilometres an hour. The speed limit here once you realize you won’t see any form of enforcement. No one really takes it except for truckers and people looking to do a top speed run. People say it’s haunted, and sure, at night it’s scary, but that’s just the wildlife. It’s long, straight, and flat. You can see mountains way out in the distance, but they never appear to move. They’re distant; very distant.
I’ve heard rumours of how this place formed, and none make any sense to me. Some say it was a massive lakebed, some say glaciers, some say it was a battlefield for the gods before there was any life on the planet. The shrubbery that litters the fields look dead and wilted; they have no leaves, and the branches are a dull fragile grey. At night though, they couldn’t look more alive; they expand and shift to a vibrant green as leaves and new branches sprout. It’d be beautiful if they didn’t also thin the road into a one-lane when they did so. That alone makes me want to believe the god story.
What better way to be broken out of my rambling thoughts than to lose all power from the engine though? Out of nowhere, it started sputtering; ancient vehicular roars turned to coughs and hacks before it cut out entirely. I kept it rolling for a while, watching the speedo drop to 110, before I decided it’d be safer to just brake. I pulled it over just before the shrubs would scratch the paint, still half into the lane, and I turned the key to save the battery. From there, I had a few choices. Most would get me killed by my ‘employers.’ I was fairly close to becoming a mechanic before I was pulled into this life, and I really wish I had now.
“Maybe I can figure this out.” Hood popped, I left safety into the heavy heat of the desert. Opening the hood, everything looked fine to clueless me. I know the general parts of an engine, and it all looked to be there and not broken from outside, so I had no clue what the issue could have been. After staring for what must have been ten minutes, my mind settled on the idea that it was a fuel issue. I went and found a gas can that wasn’t empty, and dumped its contents into the car, thankfully not losing a drop. Back in the car, I turned the key and……nothing. For this, I know what could be the cause; the starter. How do I fix this? No clue. Might not even be the starter.
After ten more minutes of pondering my predicament, I removed the key and stepped back into the sun’s rays, staring down at the engine bay. Nope, nothing changed. Turns out not looking for ten minutes doesn’t make the problem jump out at you. Real shame. In a surprising twist of intelligence, I remembered that the temperature had been rising and checked the coolant; only for my bout of memory to result in no progress, as the coolant was full. Cool. Real cool.
Yet another round of ten useless minutes passed, and all I had accomplished was following random wires to places in the blind hope they might tell me what’s wrong, but yeah, no. I finally looked up from the brick that was my transportation to see a bright yellow semi steaming down the road. Soon after, I could hear the engine working away, tugging at the boxed trailer behind. As it approached, the faint smoke from the stacks faded, and the unmistakable thunder of the jake brake was flooding my ears. I tried to get a peek into the cab, but the glare of the sun was too much to see through. It came to a stop behind my heap of trash, and the hazards followed.
A white cat emerged from the truck, climbing down from the cab. She tossed a water bottle my way, which I thankfully caught. “Afternoon!” She walked with an air of joy about her, as if she couldn’t be doing anything better with her life. “Damn nice Firebird.”
I nod lightly, looking at the bottle she had tossed me. “Uh, thanks.”
She strolled around the side, appraising every centimetre she could lay her eyes on as she approached me. “This a ‘70, right?”
I glanced at the car I’ve been driving, a Firebird, apparently. Of course I knew the year, so with a straight face I said, “Yeah.” Why wouldn’t I know the year?
“Damn.” She stopped next to me, looking into the engine bay, hopefully making more sense of it than I. She looked towards me for the first time. “You engine-swapped it? What’s this engine from?”
My gaze shifted towards the engine bay, desperately searching for any sort of identification, but ultimately unable to see any wording. “Uh, I don’t know; I bought it with this engine.”
She nodded slowly, pulling her hand up to her chin, holding it up as she turned back to the engine. “Ah, I see…Seems like it was de-badged. Looks like a nice V8, though.” After a few moments of quiet contemplation on her side, she dropped her hand and turned to me. “So what’d you do to it?”
I tilted my head and shrugged. “Well, I was driving, and then I wasn’t,” I said, gesturing to the car.
“That’ll do it.” She put her hands on the fender, leaning over the engine bay. I didn’t like the face she was making. Her eyes squinted, and she tilted her head a little. “Hmm…Sometimes they just need a good smack.”
Her words quickly sent my gaze back to the trucker, and I nearly dropped the bottle. “What? That can’t be it.”
“Watch!” She leaned over more and put her hand on the engine cover, feeling around. I watched with a tilted head as she did her rubbing, and I felt like something should have been happening. There was this feeling in the air that something was happening, but it was such a faint tingling in my fur that I assumed it was machinations of the heat. She eventually raised her hand off the cover and then threw it back down at the engine. By some miracle, a few seconds after she pulled her hand back, the engine started right up, as if nothing was wrong, no key needed. “See?”
While I was standing there in disbelief, she was already walking away. “What? How-”
“Just a little trick. Safe travels!” she said over her shoulder.
“Was that magic?” I tried to ask, but by the time the question was out, she was back in the truck and had closed the door. The truck’s engine roared to life, considerably louder than the Firebird’s next to me, and she wasted little time in pulling out. I’m now thinking that little tingle wasn’t the heat. There’s no way that was just a slap. Was it her tether maybe?
Whatever it was, I didn’t want to waste much more time standing there; the tank is full, and the engine clearly works. I closed the hood, got back in the car, nearly forgetting to put the key in, and I set off. Back on the long, empty highway. It seems it’s only been an hour, judging by my phone, so I should still be on time. I’ll have to pass her eventually as well, since she’s likely limited to the standard 110, and I’ll be going well above that.
30 minutes later and I passed her, but in the first few minutes it definitely felt like I wouldn’t be seeing her again, like she was a ghost in my mind. Two more hours of hauling my useless self down the road, the gas station thankfully arrives into view, and is open, the big neon “Desolate! Just the way we like it!” slogan sign, above the high gas prices fitting of such a remote station. I pulled into the pumps, just glad to be somewhere familiar besides the highway.
~1.6k words
NEXT
Had fun writing this one :D Got to include a car AND truck. Insanity.
Stranded by The GhostBy: CheeseI’d been driving down that road for three entire hours. Three more until I would arrive at the next service station. Beyond the edge of the pavement is nothing but dry shrubbery and dry, scorching heat. It’s things like this that make me question my life. A courier for the mafia…by the gods, I’d rather do anything else. At least every moment I’m on the road is a moment away from my blackmailers.
They gave me an older car for this specific trip. Apparently because the usual was compromised. It’s a black 70s something muscle car. Not exactly great on fuel, which is why I brought as many fuel cans as I could pack into the trunk. I’m no car buff, but it certainly stands out on the streets, even though it’s entirely black. My least favourite part is that the AC broke an hour down the Ghost. It’s sweltering in here now. I was also told the package could survive the heat if needed, which I’d hope so, because if it couldn’t, they’d be out to kill me. The coolant temperature had been slowly rising for the past two hours since it went out, but they assured me it wouldn’t break down.
Ghost is my nickname for this road. All there is to accompany you is the sound of your own rumbling engine, the wind rushing by the windows, and the sound of your tires ripping off the road; all at 160 kilometres an hour. The speed limit here once you realize you won’t see any form of enforcement. No one really takes it except for truckers and people looking to do a top speed run. People say it’s haunted, and sure, at night it’s scary, but that’s just the wildlife. It’s long, straight, and flat. You can see mountains way out in the distance, but they never appear to move. They’re distant; very distant.
I’ve heard rumours of how this place formed, and none make any sense to me. Some say it was a massive lakebed, some say glaciers, some say it was a battlefield for the gods before there was any life on the planet. The shrubbery that litters the fields look dead and wilted; they have no leaves, and the branches are a dull fragile grey. At night though, they couldn’t look more alive; they expand and shift to a vibrant green as leaves and new branches sprout. It’d be beautiful if they didn’t also thin the road into a one-lane when they did so. That alone makes me want to believe the god story.
What better way to be broken out of my rambling thoughts than to lose all power from the engine though? Out of nowhere, it started sputtering; ancient vehicular roars turned to coughs and hacks before it cut out entirely. I kept it rolling for a while, watching the speedo drop to 110, before I decided it’d be safer to just brake. I pulled it over just before the shrubs would scratch the paint, still half into the lane, and I turned the key to save the battery. From there, I had a few choices. Most would get me killed by my ‘employers.’ I was fairly close to becoming a mechanic before I was pulled into this life, and I really wish I had now.
“Maybe I can figure this out.” Hood popped, I left safety into the heavy heat of the desert. Opening the hood, everything looked fine to clueless me. I know the general parts of an engine, and it all looked to be there and not broken from outside, so I had no clue what the issue could have been. After staring for what must have been ten minutes, my mind settled on the idea that it was a fuel issue. I went and found a gas can that wasn’t empty, and dumped its contents into the car, thankfully not losing a drop. Back in the car, I turned the key and……nothing. For this, I know what could be the cause; the starter. How do I fix this? No clue. Might not even be the starter.
After ten more minutes of pondering my predicament, I removed the key and stepped back into the sun’s rays, staring down at the engine bay. Nope, nothing changed. Turns out not looking for ten minutes doesn’t make the problem jump out at you. Real shame. In a surprising twist of intelligence, I remembered that the temperature had been rising and checked the coolant; only for my bout of memory to result in no progress, as the coolant was full. Cool. Real cool.
Yet another round of ten useless minutes passed, and all I had accomplished was following random wires to places in the blind hope they might tell me what’s wrong, but yeah, no. I finally looked up from the brick that was my transportation to see a bright yellow semi steaming down the road. Soon after, I could hear the engine working away, tugging at the boxed trailer behind. As it approached, the faint smoke from the stacks faded, and the unmistakable thunder of the jake brake was flooding my ears. I tried to get a peek into the cab, but the glare of the sun was too much to see through. It came to a stop behind my heap of trash, and the hazards followed.
A white cat emerged from the truck, climbing down from the cab. She tossed a water bottle my way, which I thankfully caught. “Afternoon!” She walked with an air of joy about her, as if she couldn’t be doing anything better with her life. “Damn nice Firebird.”
I nod lightly, looking at the bottle she had tossed me. “Uh, thanks.”
She strolled around the side, appraising every centimetre she could lay her eyes on as she approached me. “This a ‘70, right?”
I glanced at the car I’ve been driving, a Firebird, apparently. Of course I knew the year, so with a straight face I said, “Yeah.” Why wouldn’t I know the year?
“Damn.” She stopped next to me, looking into the engine bay, hopefully making more sense of it than I. She looked towards me for the first time. “You engine-swapped it? What’s this engine from?”
My gaze shifted towards the engine bay, desperately searching for any sort of identification, but ultimately unable to see any wording. “Uh, I don’t know; I bought it with this engine.”
She nodded slowly, pulling her hand up to her chin, holding it up as she turned back to the engine. “Ah, I see…Seems like it was de-badged. Looks like a nice V8, though.” After a few moments of quiet contemplation on her side, she dropped her hand and turned to me. “So what’d you do to it?”
I tilted my head and shrugged. “Well, I was driving, and then I wasn’t,” I said, gesturing to the car.
“That’ll do it.” She put her hands on the fender, leaning over the engine bay. I didn’t like the face she was making. Her eyes squinted, and she tilted her head a little. “Hmm…Sometimes they just need a good smack.”
Her words quickly sent my gaze back to the trucker, and I nearly dropped the bottle. “What? That can’t be it.”
“Watch!” She leaned over more and put her hand on the engine cover, feeling around. I watched with a tilted head as she did her rubbing, and I felt like something should have been happening. There was this feeling in the air that something was happening, but it was such a faint tingling in my fur that I assumed it was machinations of the heat. She eventually raised her hand off the cover and then threw it back down at the engine. By some miracle, a few seconds after she pulled her hand back, the engine started right up, as if nothing was wrong, no key needed. “See?”
While I was standing there in disbelief, she was already walking away. “What? How-”
“Just a little trick. Safe travels!” she said over her shoulder.
“Was that magic?” I tried to ask, but by the time the question was out, she was back in the truck and had closed the door. The truck’s engine roared to life, considerably louder than the Firebird’s next to me, and she wasted little time in pulling out. I’m now thinking that little tingle wasn’t the heat. There’s no way that was just a slap. Was it her tether maybe?
Whatever it was, I didn’t want to waste much more time standing there; the tank is full, and the engine clearly works. I closed the hood, got back in the car, nearly forgetting to put the key in, and I set off. Back on the long, empty highway. It seems it’s only been an hour, judging by my phone, so I should still be on time. I’ll have to pass her eventually as well, since she’s likely limited to the standard 110, and I’ll be going well above that.
30 minutes later and I passed her, but in the first few minutes it definitely felt like I wouldn’t be seeing her again, like she was a ghost in my mind. Two more hours of hauling my useless self down the road, the gas station thankfully arrives into view, and is open, the big neon “Desolate! Just the way we like it!” slogan sign, above the high gas prices fitting of such a remote station. I pulled into the pumps, just glad to be somewhere familiar besides the highway.
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 119px
File Size 78.4 kB
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