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Mar. 16th, 2023 at 6:41 PM
[The night carries the two of them south. While Johnnie's original plan based on his map had been to travel down the coastline, he's still cautious about what lurks there, and opts for a quieter, inland route that bypasses most of the major cities in South Carolina. Whatever this state might hold, they'll miss it, aside for a brief pit stop near Lake Marion to refuel the tank, fill up on snacks, and get Chrissy a little more knife fighting practice (though with sticks found at the lakeside, no sharp edges here) before either of them are too low on energy for that.
There are long stretches where towns mostly vanish, where they're lucky to have pavement at all judging by the lack of civilization around them. The road material shifts at one point into something strange and glassy, and Johnnie has a hard time finding traction for the bike - and the explanation comes in the form of some strange electric vehicle with neon lights that zips rapidly past them, floating over the road rather than touching it. It's cool, but it also makes the hair rise on the back of his neck.
The orange-pink disc of the sun is just barely visible emerging on the horizon as they ride into Tifton. That last leg of the road had been so dark and quiet Johnnie had fallen into something of a trance, hypnotized by the black road and its yellow stripes, but a road sign for the Tifton Mine ("an unbelievable journey through time you don't dare miss!") and the lights of a fire station and golf club at the edge of town snap him out of his thoughts.
The mine is to the north, and part of him wants to just take that road and go straight there. But Chrissy needs a real bed to sleep in while she recovers from her injuries, still - dozing on the road probably doesn't count enough. And, okay, maybe he could use a couple hours' rest, too.
They pass a fucking taquerÃa and that blows his mind, and then as they get farther and farther into the city he continues to sit straight up and look a little bit startled by all the lights and signs and everything for what was marked as some tiny little dot on a map that he was expecting to have no more than maybe five hundred people. The music, too, keeping him awake this last part of the ride, is even more unfamiliar than it was in the 90s, and as he merges with traffic and looks around at dancing lights and animated billboards, he spots a bank with a time, date, and temperature reading for some absurd reason.
April 6, 2004.]
Hey, you seein' all this, Chrissy?
[Who knows if she's even awake right now, but maybe the slowing of his bike and the surprising amount of traffic at this hour have done the trick. Now they just need to find a motel, and the main drag up ahead looks like a good bet.]
There are long stretches where towns mostly vanish, where they're lucky to have pavement at all judging by the lack of civilization around them. The road material shifts at one point into something strange and glassy, and Johnnie has a hard time finding traction for the bike - and the explanation comes in the form of some strange electric vehicle with neon lights that zips rapidly past them, floating over the road rather than touching it. It's cool, but it also makes the hair rise on the back of his neck.
The orange-pink disc of the sun is just barely visible emerging on the horizon as they ride into Tifton. That last leg of the road had been so dark and quiet Johnnie had fallen into something of a trance, hypnotized by the black road and its yellow stripes, but a road sign for the Tifton Mine ("an unbelievable journey through time you don't dare miss!") and the lights of a fire station and golf club at the edge of town snap him out of his thoughts.
The mine is to the north, and part of him wants to just take that road and go straight there. But Chrissy needs a real bed to sleep in while she recovers from her injuries, still - dozing on the road probably doesn't count enough. And, okay, maybe he could use a couple hours' rest, too.
They pass a fucking taquerÃa and that blows his mind, and then as they get farther and farther into the city he continues to sit straight up and look a little bit startled by all the lights and signs and everything for what was marked as some tiny little dot on a map that he was expecting to have no more than maybe five hundred people. The music, too, keeping him awake this last part of the ride, is even more unfamiliar than it was in the 90s, and as he merges with traffic and looks around at dancing lights and animated billboards, he spots a bank with a time, date, and temperature reading for some absurd reason.
April 6, 2004.]
Hey, you seein' all this, Chrissy?
[Who knows if she's even awake right now, but maybe the slowing of his bike and the surprising amount of traffic at this hour have done the trick. Now they just need to find a motel, and the main drag up ahead looks like a good bet.]
Comments
Hm? Oh, We can go now.
[It's practically insisted, as she slips out of the booth and offers him a hand so she can tug him out along with her. She feels bad for making him wait, especially since he has to be even more anxious about everything than she is. So as soon as they get outside, she gets him to stop walking long enough she can sweetly give him a kiss. Her hands rub up and down his arms, a gesture meant to soothe and keep him calm. He's not worked up, but she knows how he can get inside his own head sometimes.]
Now I'm ready. We couldn't go without a kiss for luck.
[Since she's his milagra and all, she has to fulfill her duty. Which means he gets one more kiss, this one a little deeper, before she pulls away and leads the way back to the bike.]
You're too good to me, babe. I'll take all the luck I can get.
[Not that he really believes in it, of course, but hell, he believes in her, in the two of them, and that's what matters. He helps get her settled on the bike once more, then gets them onto the road, following the signs for the mine. Which are pretty regular, actually. It's weird.]
Must be one hell of an attraction they have set up. I've never seen so many signs for a mine before, it's like it's fuckin' Disney.
[They're mining something that saves lives, but they must really love showing it off, too. Nobody goes on an afternoon outing to a vaccine factory. Gotta be a ton of money behind this to promote it, and that thought finds him growing even more skeptical about the reasons. Who benefits most from a treatment to a potentially lethal but apparently legal drug? The guy who sells the goddamn drugs. Keeps him in business, makes it seem less dangerous. Fuck.]
We're lucky we wound up in a reality where this place exists, though. Since it seems like not every place even has vide noir, let alone knows somethin' to treat an overdose.
As she feels more and more anxious about their stop, she starts to hold Johnnie tighter and tighter. She wants this for him so badly. For the both of them. She wants them to be able to be alive again, so they can have a second chance at life. So they can make a life together.
It's not like they can't do that when they're like this. They've already established a routine and a really nice life together on the road. But there's a voice in the back of her head that tells her she's holding him back, that he needs to be alive for his family and friends. The World Enders mean everything to him.
As they drive, she spots yet another sign saying the mine is only a mile away. It seems bigger and flashier than most of the others, promising that it's something no one will want to miss. That feeling of uncertainty grows to the point it starts to really gnaw at her.]
I guess the good news is that whatever we find there, at least now there's two gift shops and a snack bar.
[Oh gosh, they're about to walk into a huge disappointment. She can just feel it. But she's holding onto a little bit of hope, which grows a little stronger as they pull into the parking lot and it doesn't feel entirely like some kind of roadside tourist trap. At least not on the outside.
It's empty though, which means it must already be closed for the day. That's a good thing. It means they can take things at their own pace.]
Here goes nothing. Are you ready for this?
[She gives him a half-smile, hand extending so he can take it if he wants.]
[No "I guess so", no "as I'm going to be", no hesitation. His jaw is set in determination as he swings his leg over the bike, eyes the place from their spot in the parking lot, scans the surroundings, then takes her hand.
The terrain doesn't suggest a mine like he'd pictured in his head, but then again, all there needs to be is a hole in the ground. The place does have some obvious security from here - a back maintenance building of some kind has razor wire on a fence around it, and he sees the glint of a camera by the front door. There are informational signs on posts near the front entryway, and what looks like a small trail encircles the building with more of those signs, but most of the attraction must be indoors.]
Guess we'll have to find our own way in. Let's look around the back. See if we can scope out the best entry point. That camera's aimed toward the door, we should be outta its range from here, but watch for more of those.
[It's a quick walk around the side of the building. It's not huge, not some enormous complex. If they extract the stuff here, they must take it somewhere else to refine it, somewhere with more secrecy and without the prying eyes of the public. But the equipment parked out back, digging machines and trucks, implies they must do some actual work here sometimes.]
There, little door by the loading bay on that back building. They probably got their gift shops an' history tours in the main building but who gives a fuck. If they're actually carting this shit out in quantity, that might be the place to start. Or... Hell, I dunno, maybe they sell samples in the gift shop. We can look there next.
[It's almost a shame there's nobody here. They could blend in with tourists, they wouldn't stand out so much.
The fence around the rear building makes him wish he'd brought bolt cutters, wire cutters, something. There's a heavy chain on the gate, and the padlock isn't something he can just pop open with a knife, no chance of that. Time to get creative. Or failing that, they can come back late tonight after they've scored some tools.]
If there's cameras, there's probably some kind of alarm too. They wouldn't leave something so valuable unguarded, would they?
[She's eyeing the fence as they walk along the rear of the building, and winds up pulling away from him to head over toward where it looks like trucks can come and go.]
Hey, come look at this. [She nods over toward the bottom of the gate. It doesn't go all the way to the ground. It's a small opening, but she's pretty sure she can squeeze through it. A little pain won't mean anything in the long run.]
If I can crawl and squeeze through, I can probably get at least one side of this open. I don't think an alarm would sound if someone's opening it from the inside. Or I could get in and see if there's a better way to get you in with me. We'd only be separated for a little while.
[And for her to be okay with that is a pretty big step. She recognizes that it's risky, but doesn't seem afraid by the idea.]
Yeah, good eye. Go ahead, see what the other side's like.
[He'll just keep an eye on things out here, meanwhile. This better not be just a goddamn maintenance shed with gravel for the landscaping. It looks real. He wants it to be real, and that's the dangerous part, the optimism.]
Once she gets through to the other side, she stands up and looks around. There's no beeping, no lights going off. There's no sign of men with guns or anything. There's just a lot of trucks and big metal dumpsters. But there isn't trash coming out of it, just a lot of rocks.
There's work equipment, and a portable office building that she guesses the people that work the mines use rather than going into the touristy main building. There's a dumpster back near it, that runs along the fence. It's pretty industrial back here, but she sees a few openings to get Johnnie in with her.]
I'll try to open the gate, but if I can't, there's a part of the wall over by the dumpster that doesn't have barbed wire up top. Probably so the trash trucks can get to it easily?
[The problem with opening the gate is that the latch system operates on some kind of keypad. Only there's no numbers to press, just a spot where it looks like you would use a flat key.]
Do you know how that hotel in New York had a card to get into the room, baby? It looks like this will open with a card maybe. I don't think I'm going to be able to get it open unless I go inside this building over here to see if I can find a key card.
I can't see the dumpster from here, but I think I see what you mean. It's safe to drop down over there? I'll come that way. Don't go inside alone.
[It's probably safe, but going into the building could be a challenge itself since he assumes there's a door to it that's also locked. The key card entry to the gate is annoying, but maybe once inside there he can find a way to break it open if they need to get out quickly.
He walks toward that part of the barrier without barbed wire. It's a chain link fence, but the kind that has plastic slats through it, so he can't see in and can't easily get foot- or handholds. Still, he's pretty good at this kind of thing - that being breaking and entering in irritating circumstances - and has an idea of how to make it easier. He cuts through some of those plastic slats and bends them inward, enough where he could probably get at least the very toe of his shoe through, then takes a running leap at a section of metal post. He can't reach the top of the fence, but he can get his hands around the pole between the metal and plastic, then scrambles and holds on until his toe finds one of the footholds he'd cut out. He stands there, gripping hard onto the fencepost with one hand, and manages to throw himself the last foot or so up to the top of the fence, then pull himself up and over.]
Hate these fucking fences. Hey, we gotta get bolt cutters sometime, just keep those on the bike for shit like this.
[From here, he can scramble over the top and drop down onto that rock-filled dumpster, then drops down to the ground with a smirk. Success.]
I dunno if that means they've only got so much to hide here or what, but whatever. Let's see about that door. Other side of this thing?
[He nods to the portable building, then has a quick look at those rocks. Man, it just looks like rock, though. If it was some kind of special ore with the good shit in it, they wouldn't just leave it sitting out here, probably.]
Yeah, this one over here. I was going to use my knife to try and get in, but I think you better do it. I'll watch so I can try to figure out how to do it next time.
[She's not only accepting of this life, but now being proactive about learning how to better fit into it. Which makes her smile a little as she glances back over toward the trucks and bins with rocks in them.]
There was a quarry in Hawkins. I'm not sure what they used to pull from it, but now it's filled with water. Maybe this place will turn into something like that eventually, with all the rocks they're moving.
[But it's 2004. They originally saw the ad for this place back in the 70s...that's a long gap of time. It has to still be an active mine, right? That explains all the work equipment and rocks. But there's no way the cosmic ash is out here like this. It's too valuable.]
Anyway, I've been trying to find the name of the company or person that operates the back end of things. I think we'll find that in the building.
[He's studying that lock, meanwhile. Shitty ones can be rotated with the tip of his knife but this isn't a shitty one, this one would take an actual set of lockpicks to move the pins into just the right spots. Make that one more tool he really should have brought with him, though he never anticipated being out here and getting up to all this kind of trouble on what was to be a road trip.]
This isn't the kind of thing you can just get at with a knife real easy. Some of these, you can, but not this one. The other problem is it's got a deadbolt, see. If it's just a regular rotating lock, sometimes you can get the knife between the door an' the mechanism an' slide it back in toward the door, but not with a deadbolt. An' the window on the door, see that pattern? It's reinforced glass. Not the kind you can break easily an' reach through to unlock from inside.
[He pauses, ear to the door, and listens. There's a soft hum of electricity inside, probably from the lights or a fan, but he's also pretty sure he hears a beat. Music.]
Someone's in there. They got music on, so maybe they haven't noticed it yet. But it means they're gonna come running when we force our way in. Get ready.
[Because fuck picking this lock, he's going to jog back to the dumpster, grab a good fist-sized rock, and then come right back on over and raise it so she sees.]
Just gonna break the knob off. Let's see if we can get info outta this guy while we're here.
[This is going to be fucking hard, but he's done it before. He takes a breath, then brings the rock down like a hammer onto the knob. One, two, three times before the wood cracks and the metal warps, enough where he can force it open with his shoulder. The door crashes against a cabinet inside, leaving him panting hard as he stumbles in after it.
The guard is already on his way over, but he's slow to draw his gun while shouting for Johnnie to stand down, and Johnnie just throws that rock as hard as he can at the guy's chest. The man misfires, shooting a hole in the floor, as he staggers backward at the impact, knocking a printer off a shelf that lands on top of him with a crash.]
Stay there! Please?
[She sweetly requests, a sharp contrast to the knife that she pulls out and pops open. The blade is lightly run across the desks and other furniture in the room, as she makes her way over to the fallen guard. He's still scrambling to try and get his gun, flustered and annoyed.
Chrissy spots his badge on his pocket and grabs a small portable computer (they're so little in 2004, wow!) to pick up and drop on his head. It doesn't knock him out, and she's left trying to use her knife to cut his ID badge off of him.
What winds up happening is he gains his bearings while she's trying to stand over him. The printer is shoved to the side along with the laptop, and he definitely has his gun out now. Panic fills her again, and she kicks at his hand as hard as she can. She makes impact before he can pull the trigger, but the gun does go off as it hits the wall. She gasps in surprise and just makes a grab at the guard's badge, and is even more shocked when he bowls her over onto the ground.
Her knife is knocked out of her hand in the process, and she huffs as she feels the weight of this guy pressing over her. It hurts her ribs enough that she screams and squirms, and she tries her best to grab her knife so she can stab him until he gets off of her.]
You're hurting me! Get off!
[Her hand wraps around the hilt of her knife while her other hand balls up into a fist as she uses the heel of her hand to jab as hard as she can against his throat.]
Even with a gun, that guard can't take both of them without backup, and he's left his radio on the desk. At the same time the guard bowls Chrissy over and disarms her, Johnnie is closing quickly, his own knife in his hand. He could shoot this asshole for threatening Chrissy, he probably should, but even for him that's a last resort. Instead, as Chrissy strikes upward at the guy's throat, Johnnie kicks that gun out of his hand and much farther away this time, then grabs a handful of his hair and yanks him up onto his knees with the blade of his knife against his throat.]
Chrissy, go get that gun. Hey, fucker. We got some questions. You wanna cooperate or do you want me to gut you like a pig? Your choice.
[The guard is warily looking around out of the corner of his eyes, trying to locate his gun, until Johnnie digs the knife in harder, drawing blood and putting pressure on his windpipe. He gasps and refocuses.]
Hey man, I just work here. What do you even want?
[He doesn't sound like he's going to be happy to cooperate, but Johnnie keeps him focused, keeps his attention off anything like escape or Chrissy or fighting back, at least for the moment.]
Does your badge open doors and gates around here?
[The guard curses under his breath, trying to stay still against the knife that's pressed to his throat.]
Fuck, that's what your after? My badge? You're a crazy bitch, you know that?
[She steps in and presses the gun to his temple]
Answer me.
[She knows he's not going anywhere. Johnnie will kill him before letting him out of that hold he's got the guy in.]
Shit. Yeah, it opens everything. But we don't keep money on property after close. And even if we did, I don't have access to the vaults.
[Chrissy's now able to reach over and tear his badge off of him. It's pocketed before she looks back to Johnnie. This guy thinks they're after money? Ridiculous.]
The idea that they've gone through all this effort to just to rob the compound of some money makes him laugh outright.]
You dense motherfucker. Where's the cosmic ash?
[The laughter is completely gone as Johnnie snarls that question out. He can see the guard visibly swallow against his blade, confusion on his face.]
Th- there's samples in the gift shop, but we don't keep most of it here. I don't know where it goes, though. If you come back tomorrow you can just buy some, and ask about where to get more. There's brochures, you can just mail order it...
[He trails off, like he's hoping he's said enough to be let go, but Johnnie has more questions, especially because that's such a goddamned obnoxious answer. Yeah right, come back to get arrested, sounds cool.]
Who do you work for? Who owns this place?
[The guard looks especially confused to be asked this, but,]
Txoria Mining Corporation? You idiots could have just found all this out by coming to the gift shop tomorrow...
[He stops as a fresh rivulet of blood trickles down his throat, courtesy of Johnnie reminding him not to keep talking once he's answered a question.]
That what it says on his badge, Chrissy?
[What an awful name, really. Her nose scrunches up, and she taps the tip of the gun against the guy's temple.]
Your mom must have really not liked you. I understand what that's like.
[Her eyes look to the blood along his throat, and she glances up at Johnnie with a smile. He's attractive to her all the time, but seeing him in his element really makes him seem like a rugged action hero to her.]
What else do you need to know, Johnnie? I'll grab his radio and then we can head inside.
See if you can find somethin' like rope around here. Or, get his belt off. Get his wrists real tight together. You got a telephone here, Kip?
[What a fucking name.]
I have a phone, yeah - on the desk.
[The second part of that reply comes after another enforced reminder. And once his wrists are bound, one way or another, Johnnie shoves him down to the floor on his back, trapping his hands beneath him, and plants a foot on his chest.]
Babe, you wanna find me that rock? I'm just gonna break this dude's knees so he'll stay here. Someone'll find him in the morning. Gonna be a long night here, Kip, settle in.
[The guard starts begging and pleading for him not to do that, but Johnnie isn't exactly listening.]
So she sets the gun aside on the desk and goes over to retrieve the rock with both hands. Johnnie gets a quick kiss as she hands it over, and then she's left skipping her way back over to the desk to hop up to sit on it. She grabs the gun and holds it in her lap as her legs sway and kick.]
You know what, Kip? You're really lucky. Someone will find you tomorrow, and they'll get you to the hospital. And then you'll probably get paid time off from work. You should be thanking us.
[She's ever the optimist, even in Kip's moment of terror and pain.
With that hopeful thought in mind, she leans over to grab his walkie talkie, so she can hold that in her lap too.]
Do you think I tied his wrists tight enough, baby? I don't want him to be able to get away.
[Chrissy takes to this so well, it's not only endearing but genuinely helpful. Man, and to think he was afraid at first that she'd flee at the first sign of trouble, way back when they first met. He hefts the rock in his hand, then shuffles sideways a little, digging his heel into that soft space between ribs and stomach to keep Kip from trying to move around too much, because he's pretty sure the moment he starts in, the guy is going to scream and howl and try to fight back. Broken knee's gotta hurt like hell.
Kip hisses a breath through his teeth, clearly already anticipating that, as he continues to plead.]
You fight back an' she shoots you.
[That's the only warning he gets before he hammers that rock hard down onto Kip's right kneecap. He really needs a hammer for this sort of thing, because the force of the rock against his hand and wrist is kind of jarring. Needs earplugs, too, actually, because the scream-howl of pain as Kip writhes is annoying as all fuck. They should've gagged him, but whatever. He doesn't want to ask Chrissy to do that when having the gun trained on the guy is more important.
Johnnie forcibly keeps Kip in place with that heel against his stomach and hammers again and again with the rock until the blows feel softer, like the bone has cracked and shattered enough for muscle and sinew to start absorbing the hits, and the knees of his pants are wet with blood through the black fabric. Kip is moaning, but his movements are slow and meaningless, his body in shock at the pain. Johnnie tosses the rock aside, and heads toward the desk, giving Chrissy a pat on the knee.]
Thanks. All right, you got his radio, you think this is a phone? Don't want him crawling over here to call out any time soon.
[He picks up the little metallic device still on the desk and flips it open. It's not like any phone he's seen, but it has three letters per number, and that part is familiar.]
Oh wait.
Resting on the far end of the desk is a pair of really small earplugs on a cord. They're attached to a little rectangular thing. She keeps her arm outstretched with the gun and leans over to grab the earplugs. She pulls on them, and is surprised when everything comes to her in one piece. The earplugs are put in, and she's shocked to hear music coming out of them.
And she knows the song playing, too!
Abba's Dancing Queen was always one of her favorites. With the happy song playing her ears, she can't hear the screaming or the sound of bone crushing. She just watches poor Kip be beaten to an upbeat song. Her legs kick and sway and she keeps the gun trained on him.
One of the earplugs are removed as Johnnie approaches her, and she glances over at the thing he's asking about.]
Hold on a second, and I'll grab it.
[There's a black backpack on the floor. Probably Kip's. She hops down and grabs it, figuring she can go through it later. For now, the earplugs with music, the walkie talkie, and the phone in Johnnie's hand all go into the backpack. And just to be safe, she pulls the corded phone from the wall and puts that in the backpack too.
It's zipped up and she puts it on.]
Did you get both of his knees? Because I can always try shooting him there.
[She's just thinking there's no way he'd be able to crawl anywhere if she did that.]
Yeah, he's not goin' anywhere. Even if he gets his hands loose, what's he gonna do, drag himself around? Can't really even crawl right.
[There is some weird stuff in this office, now that he has a moment to look around. The technology isn't entirely foreign to him, though - he sees the camera feeds on the TV screens. But there's nobody to watch them now, so who cares, really.
There are binders and notebooks and other records on the shelves, but he's not that interested in the history of this place, especially the boring type of history that can be held in a spiral-bound report. He decides, for now, none of this matters.]
C'mon, let's see what's in the other building, now you got that badge. We'll come back here if it doesn't have the answers we want. What's this thing?
[He gestures to her corded... earplugs?]
[That part is said to Kip, who seems a lot more focused on his knees. Whatever. Chrissy pulls his badge out of her pocket, and makes sure the safety is on the gun before she tucks it into the waistband of her skirt. It doesn't exactly work the same as when Johnnie does it in his waistband, so she pulls it out and offers it to him to hold for her.
She makes her way over to the doorway, and as Johnnie approaches she takes hold of his hand so they can head back toward the main building.]
I left the walkie talkie on, so if anyone tries calling him on it, we'll hear. His badge had four numbers written on the back. I'm betting that's the alarm code, if there's any alarms in there. But with all those cameras he was watching, there may not actually be any alarms.
[Hey, he's into anything that plays music and is portable, that's pretty exciting. He doesn't really get how something that small works, but that's not going to bother him, it's just neat that it does.
He tucks their second gun away to free up his hands, then trots on down toward the gate.]
Smart. Yeah, we'll see. I know some alarms don't do anything obvious, they just call the police. But you'd think with a pass like that, we'd be fine, right? No alarm's gonna go off if it thinks we're supposed to be there.
[The gate here with the key slot Chrissy found earlier opens readily with that badge inserted, and leaves them facing the main building from the side. They get inside it just as easily thanks to the keycard slot by the door, which unlocks with a click. Johnnie closes it behind them once they're both inside, then finds the light switch.]
Exhibits left, gift shop right here. They sure don't want you to miss out on spending your money.
[Typical bullshit, but useful in this case.
There are books about mining, lots of toy dump trucks and excavators, and a whole array of rocks and jewelry for sale that don't seem like they have anything at all to do with this place. It's a whole grab bag of toys and decor arguably related to science and geology right by the registers.
But the rear half of the gift shop, the side you enter from when coming fresh out of the exhibits, is themed with a less terrestrial approach. Books about space, cheap toy telescopes, and tiny meteorite samples in boxes surround a central display, a glass case with a locked panel. Here, as Johnnie approaches, he can see a column of tiny glass bottles on little shelves, each corked and decoratively printed with a cut gem motif, each labeled as Cosmic Ash. The contents, about a tablespoon per bottle, do look gray and powdery, but they shine with a rainbow sheen.
And there are brochures next to the display, like Kip had said. Johnnie grabs one, glowers at that cut gem on the cover, then flips through it.]
"... but sometimes, as we all know, the journey through the greater cosmos asks us to stay a little longer than we'd like. Whoopsie! No problem, because with cosmic ash, we can remind ourselves, or you can remind a friend, that there's time to drift the cosmos later, but now we need to take a break! Cosmic ash can be inhaled on its own, but has far greater potency when coupled with our patented diffuser-" what a fucking crock of bullshit. This fucking asshole-
[Time to cut into some profit margins. He grabs one of those shitty display telescopes and swings it like a bat at the display case. But the case is sturdier glass than it looks, and the telescope is shittier, so it actually just breaks the scope off the tripod and sends it clattering to the floor.]
Look at what I found, Johnnie.
[She pulls out a toolbelt. There's a variety of little tools attached, but one that catches her attention.]
We could've used that hammer on his legs.
[Oh well, maybe next time. She pulls the hammer out and tosses the rest of the tools on the belt aside onto the floor. If Johnnie wants them, he'll pick them up. But Chrissy is focused on taking that hammer and going up to the case.
Thinking it will crack under any amount of pressure, she gently taps the hammer against it. Offense is written all over her face when the hammer recoils without even cracking the stupid case open. Her jaw sets as she tries again, this time harder. It doesn't do anything.]
Oh gosh, this is hard. [She hits harder, and there's a cracking sound. But no crack in the really sturdy glass.] Fuck. [Ugh, this is hurting her hands and her ribs. The hammer is held out to him, so he can go to town with it.]
You smash it. I'm going shopping.
[She's got Kip's backpack. There's souvenirs she wants to steal.]
[Who knew he'd need random fucking tools on this journey, but he's happy to have them.
He watches with anticipation, and a growing scowl as she can't break the glass. He takes the hammer from her, but the key here must be to go for a weak spot. The case does have its unlockable panel, presumably for staff to reach in and take these little sample bottles out for customers to purchase, and that's got to be the best place to attack.
The hinges look sturdy. The lock is a keypad that needs a code. He could try the one Chrissy found, but a security guard being able to open this doesn't really make sense to him, and it's way easier to smash his way through the buttons. With a few heavy blows, he pretty well obliterates the keypad, sending pieces of metal flying, then slides open the lock with his hand and pushes the door wide open.
No point wasting further time. He discards the hammer on top of the rest of the tools, then grabs four bottles in one swipe.]
How much - wait.
[The brochure has usage directions, probably. He picks another one up and pages through it, past the sales garbage and an order form with an address in California. He'll have to hold onto that.
The last two pages do offer some usage advice, but it assumes there's a diffuser in play, and he can't see any of those sitting around the shop. Mail-order only, maybe. Well, it's stupid bullshit anyway, so he's going for one of the novelty mugs, black with green glow-in-the-dark stars, and starts dumping the little bottles of ash into it. It immediately makes him sneeze.]
Wonder if you can overdose on this shit. That'd be somethin'.
[Because he's filling this mug to the brim, one spoonful at a time, and tosses the empty bottles behind the registers as he goes.]
What kind of world is a drug legal, and out near candy for kids?
It's really messed up.
By the time she makes her way back over to Johnnie, he's taking the little bottles and dumping them into a mug. Unsure if they should put all of their eggs in this basket, she swipes a handful of vials and puts them into the backpack.]
Are you going to try all of that at once?
[Worry creeps into her tone, and she reaches out to stop him from filling up the mug any further.]
Maybe you should start small and we can work our way up to trying to overdose.