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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
Chrissy looks a little owl-eyed at first, until understanding settles in. There's a reason he put the World Enders sign back in the parking lot. It's that asshole that had him killed. He's the one behind this.]
Do you think he's actually here?
[As terrifying as that is, it also presents a good opportunity for some real therapy for him.]
We could try to find him and kill him. We wouldn't have to wait until California.
[Which may be the one shred of good news they have to cling hold to right now, other than the fact they're both still safe. Her fingers drum against the can as she adjusts to sit with it between her legs. On one hand, they don't need to waste time looking for the fucker. On the other, she really wants him to pay for what he's done to Johnnie.
But maybe the only way to make that happen here is burning the entire town. A man like that probably has his fingers dipped in everything.]
[South back into town, they pass the restaurant, some university agricultural sign, and wind up on the tourist strip full of hotels and burger places. This isn't what he's looking for, but it's not a big town, it won't take much searching. He turns off onto a street that looks promising, following a sign that points the way toward the town hall. It cuts through a wealthy part of town first, old well-maintained homes with nice gardens. A lot of these people are the kind who profit from having the mine in town, probably, but he doesn't know enough to be able to pick and choose and their supplies are limited. And town hall itself, tempting as that is, is a brick building. They'd have to get inside to find much worth burning.
Further on still, though, is a set of train tracks, and that's when things start looking up.]
Here we go. Bet they ship a lotta shit in an' out on this train. We'll hit the depot, an' everything from there. Let the wind carry the fire wherever else it wants to go. You remember like we did in Virginia? I'll go real slow here, you paint a nice long line with that gasoline right up against buildings until you run out, then I'll stop so you can light the very end of it.
[He hops the bike up over a curb and onto a paved walkway that encircles the depot. There are a lot of lights here in the industrial zone, probably a fair number of security guards, but they can't outrun a fire once it gets going.]
I've got it. Don't worry.
[He goes slow, and she focuses on keeping the gas can steady so it doesn't just dump everywhere. They need to make this spread as far as they possibly can. She has to lean over pretty far to do it, but she ignores the throbbing in her chest telling her to take it easy. She's come this far, she can't just go slow now. He's counting on her.
Eventually though, she does run out. She shakes what's left out of the can before tossing it aside.]
Okay. I'm ready. It's time to burn.
[The lighter is pulled out, and she waits until he comes to a stop. It takes her a couple of tries to get it lit, but once it is, she hops down off the bike and crouches so she can light the gasoline. Not about to just stand around, she hurries to hop back on the bike and gives the back of his jacket a tug. It's time to get going.
As he starts heading out and the fire quickly spreads and grows, she can't help herself. She lets out a whoop and a holler, laughing as she feels accomplished.]
You know, I bet there's lots of chemicals and explosives in some of these industrial buildings. Maybe it will really go boom!
[She makes a couple of big explosion gestures with her hands.]
You got it, babe, that's what I'm hopin'. Blow the fuckin' walls off this town. There's, what, gotta be tons of fertilizer in some warehouse here, right? I really wanna see that shit go up. I really wanna know where they kept the dynamite for the mine.
[Probably well-hidden in some underground bunker. That's where he'd put TNT. Shame.
Large tanks next to a building ahead look really promising.]
Oh, shit. Maybe that's airplane fuel? Or natural gas? Fuck, we gotta get that. Okay, start another can there, an'...
[He looks at the road ahead. There's a park back here, which seems fucking absurd, but a huge octopus of a tree, branches spread wide, dominates the space. Whatever that is, it's important. Tucked away back here, it's some town symbol anyway. If he can't burn every building in the entire town, he can sure stab at its heart another way.]
End there. That tree, it's gonna burn real bright tonight.
Drive slow, baby. I've got this.
[And she does, carefully pouring the gasoline and dousing what she can, until they wind up at the tree. There's not a lot left, so as he brings the bike to a stop she hops off the back and sets the gas can down.]
Here's the other lighter. You go light things, and I'm going to get the tree started.
[She reaches into her pocket to pull out the second lighter, and tosses it over to him. Chrissy has plans of making a torch, and finds a broken branch. She digs through the saddlebag to find one of her new shirts, and wraps it around the branch. She carries it with her as she lightly douses the lower trunk with gasoline. After dousing her makeshift torch, she quickly climbs up the tree to a good vantage point. The torch is lit on fire, and she uses it to light the leaves on fire.
Johnnie's speeding back to her and the tree, so she jumps down with her torch in hand. By some miracle she sticks the landing and doesn't catch herself on fire, and moves around the perimeter of the tree trunk so she can set it ablaze. She figures Johnnie might want the torch while it's still burning, and as he approaches she passes it off to him as she gets back on the bike.]
It's really beautiful, isn't it? Like art.
The flames ripple down toward those fuel tanks, and by the time he comes back to pick her up, just as he's about to reply, they go off. The explosion is almost deafening even from the opposite end of the block, but he laughs and cheers as he waves his torch in the air, and admires the flaming tree like it's a celebratory candelabra.]
Hell yeah it is! Fuck, babe, you did so good. Look at it go!
[He's still mad, but it's buried under a cry of victory as he guns the engine and speeds on down the road. Alarms are buzzing and ringing left and right, disturbed by the explosive force of those tanks and all the fire. Time to get a move on. But he carries the torch high, howling as they go. Anyone who sees them before they slip out of this time will know exactly what they just accomplished.]
[She sighs as they head out, though her disappointment is short lived as he seems to at least get into the celebratory aspect of setting the town on fire. She hollers and cheers along with him, and they ride like that until the torch burns out and they have to toss it to the side of the road because it's no longer useful to them.
She's sure they've made it to another decade after about half an hour, and she has no idea where they're headed. They've still got to get back to California, so they're heading in that direction. But they've got stops to make along the way.]
How far do you want to drive tonight?
[They'll need to talk about what happened with the cosmic ash, but thinks she'll wait for him to bring it up. It's a sensitive subject, and she definitely doesn't want to make him angrier.]
How far does he want to go tonight? He'll have to stop and look at a map eventually. Right now he's in the mood to drive forever, to see how far he can go on a mad dash toward home. But he reminds himself that Chrissy probably isn't up for that still, and it'll be better to find somewhere to stop, take a break, and at least look at a map.]
I wanna go as far as we can, but we'll check the map. Next town we get to, we'll pull over, have a look. How's that?
[Mostly because it would be helpful to have a light to look at said map by. A gas station, a street light, whatever they come across. All he knows is right now he's on the main highway out of town going southwest.
Which, about twenty minutes later, dumps them in some miserable tiny town called Thomasville, at a gas station advertising the finest catfish and grits in the state. Somehow, he really doubts that. But he parks the bike under the lights by a shut-down pump and hops off to pull out the map.]
If we drive all night straight through...
[He traces a finger along roads, looking at options.]
Well, we could get to New Orleans if I don't stop. Might be sunrise by then.
My mom always has said New Orleans is evil.
[Which makes her laugh, as she taps Louisiana on the map.
Since they're stopped, she figures it's a good time to stretch her legs. Her arms stretch out above her head as she paces around the pump they're parked at. She winds up coming up from behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as she hugs him tight. Her cheek presses against his back for a second, and she ignores how they both reek of gasoline and fire in favor of kissing at the back of his neck.
It's nice to take a moment just to hold him, even if he winds up pulling away.]
I'm not sure if I can stay on the bike that long. Is it okay if we have to pull over somewhere so I can rest?
He smiles a little as she presses up against him, and leans back toward her lightly, enjoying the feeling of being held as he folds up the map.]
Yeah, that's all right. Kinda figured you'd say that. You just lemme know when, we'll stop an' sleep somewhere. Might as well take our time, it ain't like the police are gonna find us here.
[Wherever "here" or now is. He's vaguely getting a handle on familiar times, though, and he'd guess it might be the late 70s, or sometime in the 80s. It's not that important though since they won't stick around.
He turns in her hold so he can put his arms around her, too, and breathe in the scent of her hair. He's still not fully over everything that just happened, but this isn't the place to talk about it. He needs some time.]
[One of the good things about their situation is they have nothing but time. For now, Chrissy is content to just hold him like all of her love will be absorbed right into him through the contact. It's a surprisingly peaceful moment, given everything that's just happened. But she'll take it.
Her head lifts so she can kiss him, slow and sweet.]
Ready to get back on the road?
[It's whispered as she pulls back, but doesn't move out of his arms just yet.]
[She has nothing to apologize for, but he knows that won't stop her from doing it anyway. They want the best for each other, that's where it all comes from.
He takes his time with that kiss, closes his eyes and savors it, then offers her a small smile as she pulls away, and nods.]
Yeah. Let's get goin'. We'll go a couple hours, then look for somewhere to spend the night, wherever we wind up. You need to stop, you let me know.
[If he's honest, he should rest at some point tonight himself rather than pushing on until day like he wants to. Torching a town like they did normally would have filled him with an abundance of energy, but the mental weight of what led to that will catch up to him eventually.
He takes his seat on the bike and enjoys the feel of her behind him, then starts the engine once more and continues west. The map showed Tallahassee as the next major city, which he'd like to avoid driving through, but then it's a long stretch of nothing through the Florida panhandle. Wherever they stop, it better not be full of fish monsters. Or alligator ones.]
But eventually she really starts to ache, and exhaustion settles in. They've definitely made it a couple of hours, maybe even a little longer than that. She has no idea what state they're in, but the stretch of road they're on is deserted. No small towns, no rest stops. Nothing but lots of land and trees.]
Hey, Johnnie? I think I need to stop. Do you think we could just find somewhere to rest outside? I don't want to keep driving until we find a motel.
[She's guessing that might take a while. Which is fine, if that's what he wants to do. But he doesn't have to just for her.]
Yeah. I'll find us a spot.
[He slows down to be better able to turn off the road if given an opportunity, then takes the first one that looks like it's on dry land, since so much out here is swamp. The side road becomes dirt quickly, covered in pine needles and sweetgum leaves, and he eases the bike to an even slower pace. He just wants to get them far enough off the highway that they can sleep without being found.
The road, it appears, is here on dry ground because here there is a cemetery. It must be the only suitable place for miles, otherwise there would be no reason to put one all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. He stops the bike in front of a worn sign and an unkempt hedge.]
Canoe Cemetery. Huh. Who names a cemetery after a boat?
[Well, the good news is it's really quiet here. The headstones in the bike headlights are ancient. Whoever is buried here, nobody comes to visit them anymore. It's so dark, he can't get a sense for how big the place is, and he doesn't really feel up to pulling in and having a look, but he takes the bike around the outside of the hedge and parks it under a towering old tree that has done them the favor of shading out the undergrowth, leaving a soft mat of dead leaves as the only ground covering.]
You mind if we're next to a cemetery? Seems pretty out of the way.
[And if there's any ghosts hiding out here, they're not showing themselves yet. Which is just fine by her, she's not really in a social mood at the moment. It's hard to get a good idea of what the cemetery looks like at night, but she doesn't mind.
All she really cares about is getting to lay down for a little while. That, and the fact that they're together. That's the most important thing to her. It's going to suck without all the blankets or fur coats they had slept on outside in the past, but she can use him for a pillow if he doesn't mind.
Her hands rub up and down her arms in the chilly night air, as she walks around beneath the tree to stretch her legs. Her outfit is cute, but not exactly meant for nighttime wear in the early spring. But again, it's fine, because if he's feeling up to it, he can curl around her and keep her warm.]
Maybe the name of the county is Canoe or something.
[She suggests as she stifles a yawn, and moves to slouch down the trunk of the tree so she's sitting on the ground. Her arms extend, making grabby hands for him so he'll come join her.]
You're sure you're okay with stopping for a while?
[He's paused to light himself a cigarette and grab the tequila out of the bag, but when he turns to see her reaching for him, he's happy to come sit down beside her. He holds the cigarette in his mouth while he uncaps the bottle, then takes it between his fingers to have a long drink before offering it to her.]
It's fine. I don't mind. Kinda think a break before New Orleans feels like a good idea anyway. Get some space between all that cosmic ash bullshit an' the next big thing. I wanna have fun there, not... Not spend the whole time still bein' mad at that asshole's bullshit fake cure. Fuckin' snake oil salesman. I shoulda known, it's all just to fuck people over for a buck.
[And if that's not the case, he's yet to see anything proving it, so guilty until proven otherwise. Fuck Zazo.]
I was so stupid to get my hopes up the way I did. I really thought...
[Pausing, she exhales and watches a cloud of smoke float up. The cigarette is passed back to him as she takes the bottle back for another drink.]
Well, I thought I was going to lose you today. But I was still so sad when that stupid ash didn't work. You really deserve to have everything you want, you know?
[One more drink, then she hands the bottle back to him. Sighing, she leans over to rest her head against his shoulder. It's not particularly comfortable like this, but they'll lay down in a little while.]
When we get back to California, we'll really give it to him.
You wouldn'ta lost me. Not forever. I dunno what woulda happened if it did work, but I'd find you again. Living people see us lots of the time. I'd see you. I know I would.
[They might have been split in time, though. Maybe if it had worked, he would've been sent right back to '67, leaving her in 2004. Maybe he'd have to live the decades in between before he'd find her again. He'd be an old man. What a weird thought. Deserves a drink.]
What that place showed us, though... I dunno. That mine, them selling vide noir in the gift shop, it sure looked like Zazo's business bullshit was alive an' well, an' I dunno if that means the Enders kicked him outta California an' made him run across the country, or if it means he's got some fuckin' business empire they couldn't take down. Means in at least one version of things... Well, I dunno.
[He can't bring himself to speculate too much on the possible negatives. All possibilities are real in their own way, apparently. It has no bearing on what he'll experience from his point of view. Some realities you lose, some you win, an' you only see one at a time but the rest all happen to some other version of you, or that's how it seems to be. He'd resisted at first, but he sees it now. It makes the choices they make and the life they want to live even more important. They drive their own destinies to form a reality they want to be a part of.]
What it means is it's even more important for us to get back to your time, and your version of LA. We'll take care of him and make things right.
[She's determined. Even if she has to kill Zazo with her bare hands, she'll do it. It'll help shape their reality into a life they both deserve to live in. One where they can put things behind them and be happy, regardless of whether or not they're alive.]
We'll be happy, one way or another.
[Her head turns so she can kiss at his hand. If nothing else, he deserves to be happy.]
Oh, I'm sure we will. That's the best thing about us. We have a good time no matter where we are an' what we get up to, right?
[They'd rescued their own downer of a day by setting fire to a chunk of that town, and now they're in a quiet place that's oddly comforting, like its age brings it peace its surroundings lack.
Calls for a drink, he decides, as he knocks back another chug of tequila, then frowns. That was a lot. Goes down easy, though, so, whatever.]
We always do. Even after the monsters, we had so much fun together on your birthday.
[It's almost baffling to her to realize that it wasn't very long ago at all. Only a couple of days. In some ways, it feels like it was months ago. Time has a way of bending and contorting into something else when they're together.]
And we'll have the best time ever in New Orleans. [There's a dreamy sigh as she imagines all the fun they'll have. ] I wonder what year we'll end up stopping in, though. I hope it's a good one.
[She's had just about enough of the decades past the 1980s. Terrible things always happen when they're in them.]
[Not that he doesn't wonder, but he's excited by the surprise of it. Every mile of road has that possibility of becoming something new, something he's never seen. Now, that's true of road trips in general, and he finds himself wishing he'd done more of them, but never before would they have been like this.
With the cigarette smoked down to the nub, he snuffs it out against a root protruding from the tree, making sure it's good and dead before tossing it aside. Look, fire is cool, but not where you're hoping to get some sleep.]
What do you know about New Orleans? 'Cause all I've ever heard is it's a hell of a party, all the time. Lotsa music. Blues an' jazz, I guess.
[No wonder her mom thought it was evil. It sounds like a place she could easily spend a week or two and just soak everything up. They don't have that kind of time right now, but maybe if they really enjoy it they could always come back on vacation or something.
Now that his hands and mouth are totally unoccupied, she plays with his fingers with one of her hands, while the other reaches up so she can press her hand to his cheek. She guides him in for a kiss, and finds it's really hard to stop smiling.
Their day was really stressful at the mine. But moments like this help ease the upset she had been feeling.]
Well, I guess I can live without parades an' beads. The rest sounds pretty damn good.
[Mostly because it sounds just exotic enough to be exciting. He's never heard of a beignet, but voodoo has him intrigued, and he still wants to see an alligator while they're out this way, because otherwise his only chances are at a zoo. And given how their last zoo encounter went... Actually, he could do that again sometime.
He chuckles to himself, then sits up and away from her a little to have one more swig of tequila. Feeling a satisfying buzz, he slumps against her lightly, a smile on his face.]
I wanna find a real good jazz band so we can dance. Hey, New Orleans sounds like a place where we'd find another cool ghost hangout. You know, like New York? But a better one. Jazz ghosts an' voodoo.
There have to be other people like us there. I bet we won't even really have to look that hard.
[Yawning, she rests her arm over her eyes.]
Maybe we can find more drugs and stuff there too. I know we're almost out.
[And that's exactly why she hasn't asked him for anything, despite how tempted she is.]