beyondtheline | I sure like the feeling of an endless road

I sure like the feeling of an endless road

[A few hours of open road makes for easygoing fun. It's great to be traveling again, and the feeling of Chrissy leaning up against his back, holding on tight while he whips ahead on a wide-open freeway through the pitch black of night is like nothing else. The last time they were racing up and down this freeway, they were on the way to go burn a bunch of people's lives down - but now that's hours back, back with the rest of the city. They've left the lights and have nothing to look at but the pavement in Johnnie's headlight, the glimpses of stars shining weakly through hazy clouds, and occasionally an oncoming car.

Johnnie hasn't exactly been trying to tune in to his senses or abilities or whatever it is he has - he's just been cruising, letting the night go by, enjoying their plunge northward without a care or a thought. So it is deeply irritating when the pavement quickly fades to a well-worn dirt track that almost tosses him and Chrissy to the ground, and it takes all of his skills to get the front wheel under control and to slow down before they hit a rock that really might launch them into the nearest alfalfa field. Or whatever it is that's here, whenever they've found themselves. Somewhere pre-freeway. Boo.

But there are a few lights ahead, and he did need a stop to pee, so, fuck it.]

Well, shit. Y'know, I dunno exactly where we are. Last sign said San Jose was still fuckin' hours off. You good? That was kinda shaky.

[As long as this dirt road stays packed, they can drive it, but it's going to be slow. Good thing they're almost to somewhere.]

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Oh, fuck!

[He tries to keep his laughter quiet, but he's snickering pretty good as he gets his pants zipped up and hurriedly hops onto the bike. The engine revs hard before he gets going, not quite getting things in the right order in his urgency.]

Get your pants up!

[Not that she has much time, but she needs to be able to get her legs around him and hang on tight because he's fucking driving as fast as he can. There's only one way out of this park and that means zipping past the cops before they have time to react - and he gives them a cackle that turns into a howl as they speed off.

Sirens mean those assholes eventually get the car going again to chase, but they're going to have to work hard to catch up as Johnnie takes zig-zags through San Francisco streets, trying to make their path unpredictable. He's heading vaguely north he thinks, but honestly, he's lost track - all he knows is now, most of the signs are in Chinese or something like it, and this part of town seems awfully quiet at this time of day too aside from people wrapping up some evening shopping, and one bar with little stools on the street and old men sipping something in small glasses.

Eventually he finds a side alley to tuck into, and stops the bike. He's still laughing as he turns around and squeezes her thigh.]

You still hangin' on back here? Bet they won't find us any time soon. I don't even know where the fuck we are.

[And that's the story of how Chrissy Cunningham, once a prude princess, rides on the back of a motorcycle with her bare ass hanging out as she tries her best to pull up her shorts. That never happens, and she's laughing uncontrollably as they find an alley to stop in.

His question is met with a snort and a light hit to his arm, and she hops off the bike to try and pull her shorts up.]

You drove like that and my butt was sticking out naked the entire time! I mooned the whole city!

[She's howling with laughter and cradles her stomach with both arms as she leans over against the brick wall.]

Aw c'mon, nobody saw! An' if they did, they were jealous!

[So that makes it okay - and like her, he's laughing too hard to think otherwise anyway.

Once he's had a moment to catch his breath and get the laughter under control, he makes his way down the alley toward the main street to look around. Where are they? This city is such a puzzle.]

This place got itself a real big Chinatown I guess. I think we better just drive until we find a bigger road. Or a hardware store for our spray paint an' shit. But I bet there's jewelry or somethin' around here to rip off first, it's just there's kinda still people around so we gotta be careful. Here -

[Shit, did he bring his lockpicking tools? He does have them, somewhere, he swears. Down at the bottom of a saddlebag, some area they never fully unpacked since it wasn't stuff they'd need in the hotel. He digs around for a while before he finds the slender box.]

Can't do nothin' about alarms but at least I got this.

My lockpicking hero.

[She grins, leaning in for a quick kiss to his cheek. There's no attempt for something more than that, because she's doing up her shorts and she's afraid they'll get horny again in no time and wind up getting distracted. It's important they end up getting something worthwhile done tonight.]

Let's walk around the alleys and see if we can get in anywhere that seems quiet. We can just walk the bike along with us.

[They're not just leaving it, she doesn't trust people not to try stealing it. That, and they had a hard enough time finding it the night before. She's not eager for a repeat.]

Then maybe in an hour we can try heading out and driving around until we find something worthwhile.

[Too bad he's only okay at lockpicking - but he'll take the praise and the kiss. He can get into doors, mostly. Safes and anything more complex and they're probably out of luck.

Her plan sounds solid enough, so he sticks the lockpicks in his back pocket, then pops the kickstand back up so he can walk the bike.]

An' if the cops somehow come up this way at least we'll have our ride with us.

[He's still paranoid. It wouldn't be hard for someone to link last night's fight to the restaurant earlier because of their jackets - and while often the pigs turn a blind eye to gang stuff, once gang stuff starts leaking out into restaurants with fancy food and rich people, they're a little less likely to ignore it.

But for now, it's quiet. They walk past shops with tourist knickknacks and something that must be a housewares store given the decor and ceramics in the front window - stuff that might be decent but too large to walk away with.

At the end of the street, on the corner, under a street lamp, is a watch shop. Johnnie eyes it, and then glances over his shoulder.]

'Course this fucker's shop is right where it's the brightest fuckin' spot on the whole street. Maybe there's a back door.

Let's take a look. But I'll keep watch if you want to give it a try here.

[She takes the bike from him and puts down the kickstand, but stays close to it just in case they need to take off in a hurry. There's still some sign of life outside, but it's late enough that most people aren't standing around looking at places they have no intention of going to. And who's going to want to go to a watch shop at this hour?

No one.]

I'll follow you in if you're able to get it open. Promise.

[He doesn't need her there to rob a watch store. But she really wants to line a whole bunch of watches down her arm just because she can.]

Just watch my back.

[Poking around in the dark is probably more suspicious than trying to quickly pop this door open. He fishes his set of tools from his pocket and crouches down, testing a few in the lock before he finds one that fits nicely.

There's a real technique to this, jiggling these pins by fishing around in them until they stick in place in order. It's not a technique he's mastered and he's definitely slower at it than, say, Clicks would be. But he's pretty sure he can do it.

A few minutes in, though, and he already sees a problem. This door is just one door - there's a second just past it, one of those collapsing metal gate things that also has its own lock or two. It's going to take ages to get all of these done.]

No, fuck it, there's gotta be a better way. They got a window that don't have bars on it?

[He'll keep working at this lock, but maybe she can look for something better, because he's really feeling exposed here in this light.]

Hey, you better head back. Somebody's coming, Johnnie.

[Down the road there's someone on a bicycle approaching. They have a little rickety headlight attached, and anyone that's going that slow is bound to be able to see a whole lot. She hurries forward to go quietly pull him away from the door he's working on, and takes him by the hand back over to the bike. She's the one that gets the kickstand up and wheels the bike along into the nearby alley behind a dumpster, and puts it back down so she can move along the side of the shop to look for any sign of windows.]

I think that might be one right there, see?

[She gets on her hands and knees and peeks down into the window, squinting as she tries to make out what's inside.]

It looks like a workshop or something down there. Maybe where they fix stuff? But it's definitely a basement.

[And there's no bars, which means there probably isn't access to anything valuable inside. At least they can get in through there, the opening looks small enough they can squeeze through.]

[Fucking bike dude. Well, it was bound to happen.

And the little basement-level window is safer, yeah. He waits for the bike to pass, then nods at Chrissy's find.]

Can't be a bad place to start. I'm gonna wait 'til that guy gets farther down the street first, though.

[Because what he's about to do is not going to be quiet. There's a latch on the inside of this window, the kind that would let it open for ventilation, but he sure can't get it from here. So the only thing to do, once he's pretty sure the coast is clear, is to get down low and kick at it until the latch pops off or a hinge or the glass itself breaks.

A couple solid thuds of his heel gets the latch to fail first, and the window springs open inward. It's going to be a tight fit, but they can crawl through.

He lands feet-first on the floor of a repair shop, based on all the little lenses and lights propped up on the desks. A labeled cabinet on the side probably contains parts; one table, meanwhile, has boxes of orders with notes. Johnnie looks them over briefly before heading right for the door that goes up to the main shop.]

There we go. Gimme a few minutes an' I'll have this open. I doubt anything down here's worth much, people want working stuff, not broken shit.

[She nods and turns to look around the room, taking care not to disturb anything once she sees a picture of an elderly couple on the worktable. If they own this place, she doesn't feel right messing up the area where one of them so obviously spends a lot of time doing repairs. That can stay untouched at least. There's really nothing of value laying around, and there's not many hiding places to store a safe.

She sits in the chair at the worktable and rolls back a little, head tipped to the ceiling. Nothing of note up there. After a spin in the chair she slides out and gets on her hands and knees to peek under the table. Taped up in the far right hand corner is a small metal box. Grinning, she goes to pry it free. It's a kids Mighty Mouse lunchbox, and the metal clasp is easily undone. Inside is some cash. Not a ton, but enough that she closes it and keeps hold of the tin by the handle as she goes over to rejoin Johnnie.]

Found a little money. And look, we can put whatever we find in here!

[Johnnie is deep in concentration, eyebrows furrowed at the lock while he works it by feel.]

Yeah? Cool.

[He hasn't actually looked yet, sorry Chrissy. He's worried that if he looks away he'll slip up and lose what progress he's made. But hey, it's nice that she found some cash, that's always worth it. This place probably has a safe or something tucked away too - well, unless the owners take their cash home every day. They might. They probably live right above the shop, if he had to guess. Maybe they'll be asleep before too long. Maybe... Aha, a click, a good solid one, and all the pins feel like they're nice and clear of the mechanism.]

Hell yeah, we're in.

[Too eager, and too enthusiastic, to remember to look over at Chrissy's lunchbox, he bounds on up the stairs and into the shop.

There are definitely plenty of watches here, and nice ones too. Mostly locked inside glass display cases, but hell, it's glass and those locks are much weaker than the one in the door. He grabs a stapler from the little bookkeeping desk in the corner and uses that to bash one of the display case locks right off the back of the case - and that is not quiet but at least he gets it done in a couple blows.]

... Y'know, there's probably a key in here, huh.

[Act first, think later. He's a professional at that.]

[He definitely didn't look at what she found, but she shrugs it off. He's focused on the door and bigger things, and she's fine just following along after him to watch what he does.]

Yeah, there's a key somewhere, babe.

[She flatly retorts, amused at how he goes from telling her to think things through before acting back at dinner to being loud here and now. It's hard not to smirk as she stares at him for a second, before swooping in to reach into the case and grab some of the watches to put inside her lunchbox.

Overhead, there's the sound of footsteps. She pauses to glance up, like it's going to improve her hearing. The floor creaks and she looks back over to him.]

We should probably hurry up and get out of here.

[The lunchbox is left open though, so he can pile in whatever he wants.]

Yeah, let's just grab shit an' go.

[He says while doing exactly that - sweeping a bunch of watches into his arms and shoving them into that box, then snapping it closed once it seems full enough. They really shouldn't linger.

Escaping back out the way they came in is going to be tough to do quickly, but probably better than going out that well-lit front door - or so he thinks, until those footsteps make their way toward the stairs. The same staircase they went up to get here goes up another floor, and the person above must be coming down. So, front door it is. He hurries over to unlock first the folding gate, then the front door behind it, deadbolts and all, then shoves it open while waving for her to hurry on out.

Opening the front door is itself not quiet either - he hadn't taken the time to look, but doing so rings a set of chimes. It's not an alarm system really, but it serves as close enough to one. Johnnie groans and shoves the door shut behind them, then runs toward the bike.]

Time to get moving, I guess! Just gonna leave the cops one weird fuckin' trail of phone calls to follow tonight!

[She's laughing as she clutches the lunchbox close to her chest and runs to the bike. It's put in one of the saddlebags as she hops on the back.]

We're good. Go, go!

[Sirens sound off in the distance. There's no way to tell if they're approaching or if the people above them called, but it's fun to think that's the case and they're outrunning the stupid cops. Always staying one step ahead is hilarious to her. Her laughter is loud as she howls and holds onto him tight, pressed up close against him as he takes off down the street.]

Let's see if we can get unlost and find a jewelry store next! We'll keep those pigs squealing all night when they try to stay on our trail.

Yeah! We got this!

[One thing motorcycles are great for is navigating little streets like they one they're on. He takes a few unnecessary turns just in case those cops really are after them, just to make sure their route will be harder to guess.

In fact, when he does see what looks like something of a more main road connecting between neighborhoods, he avoids it. They can take little winding side streets forever, as far as he's concerned. This gets them from Chinatown over toward something that looks a little more like a business district eventually - they pass by an eyeglasses shop, several closed offices, some kind of small private school, and a new-age looking yoga studio before they wind up at a place advertising jewelry and antiques.]

Perfect! Fancy shit in that window.

[A huge highly-decorated brass plate inlaid with semi-precious stones is their current display piece. Is it a real antique or is it trash? Who knows. Who cares, honestly - they'll find something worth reselling in here somewhere.

He swings the bike around to the little alley that goes between this row of shops, seeking a place to park, but a couple of figures scatter as his headlight shines down into the darkness. Kids, and the smell of spray paint. Johnnie smirks and hops off.]

Hey, c'mere. You kids want a job?

[He knows this game. They're going to fuck with his bike unless he and Chrissy give them something to do, and a few bucks for their trouble.]

[He really is good with kids. Chrissy glances over at him with hearts in her eyes, and presses her hand against her lower belly to remind her uterus that babies aren't likely to ever happen.

The kids eye each other before shrugging and stepping out from where they've hidden behind stacks of crates and wooden pallets from yesterday's shipments. There's just the two of them, two lanky boys that Chrissy notices are in those awkward years where they aren't quite little kids and not exactly teenagers yet.]

Hey, it's okay. Come on out.

[It's probably because both she and Johnnie barely sound older than they are that they relax, and are cautiously optimistic as they approach but stay a safe distance away. Her head tips over toward Johnnie so she can whisper to him.]

Are you gonna have them be lookout?

[The boys get a little antsy waiting, so the shorter of the two speaks up. He stands taller than he normally might, his chest puffing out as he postures himself to not look intimidated by a couple of strangers.]

Qué coño quieres?

[Johnnie tries not to snicker too hard at that kid sounding all tough. Yeah, he's been there, he gets it. Hell, it's practically a rite of passage back home for kids to do the exact same thing once they get to a certain age. They do get a toothy grin, though.]

Hey, hey now, boys. Me vendría bien poco esquina, yeah? Por baro, no soy pinche ojete.

[The mention of money definitely earns a look of strong interest from both of them, even if they're still cautious. Taking offers from late night strangers in colors they don't recognize could come with all kinds of trouble.]

Serio, boys. Just a favor. Don't gotta do nothin' weird, just watch the street for us. An' don't touch my fuckin' bike neither.

[They both talk at once, interrupting each other.]

Cuanto?

What's with the -

[The second question, from the taller boy, is cut off by his friend elbowing him sharply in the ribs. Despite his shorter height, he's clearly the one who likes making the decisions, between the two of them. And how much money? is more important than whatever his friend was going to ask.

Johnnie hesitates, then glances at Chrissy. She probably has a better idea of how far money goes here. The five bucks he'd offer at home might not be worth much in the 80s.]

Hmmm...

[Chrissy taps at her lips with her index finger, then figures it won't hurt to toss out the amount she used to get for an allowance. It's the 80s, kids probably all get around the same amount for doing odd jobs, right? She ]

How about... [She pauses as she tries to figure out how to say it in Spanish.] Veinte? Yeah, I think that's it. Twenty dólares. Es bueno?

[The boys snicker at her broken Spanish and nudge each other as they seem to relax even more.]

Each?

[The shorter one speaks up, and his friend tugs at his arm and tells him to shut the fuck up. Chrissy shrugs and glances up at Johnnie. She's sure they have some twenties in her lunchbox she grabbed.]

Sure. Twenty each, but only after we make sure you didn't touch anything on our bike. If you do, me voy a...I'm gonna... [Oh shit, she has no idea how to say kill or stab or beat up. So she just pulls her finger across her throat to signal she'll do something vaguely violent. It makes the boys crack up even more because she's a white girl and they don't take her seriously at all.]

Hey.

[Johnnie snaps at them a little harshly, but it gets them to pay attention. This can't be treated as goofing off or those kids are totally going to pocket shit from the bike and try and get the cash they've just been promised. Forty bucks hurts and it's a lot less funny to him with numbers like that.

The kids stare at him, a little surprised, but still snickering, though that shuts up when Johnnie takes a step closer.]

Watch the street. Watch the bike. No pinche manches. Si tocan alguna de nuestras cosas, los colgaré de una farola. Claro?

[One of the kids snorts, the other rolls his eyes, but at least they look like they're taking him seriously now, they're just trying to be all cool and tough about it. There's just enough worry in their eyes that Johnnie settles more casually, hands on his hips, then turns back toward the jewelry store.]

Oye, espera! How long?

[Shorter kid's voice, Johnnie recognizes, and he looks over his shoulder.]

Until I say. C'mon, let's get this fuckin' door.

[Holy shit, he is hot right now. Chrissy presses her legs together as she feels an inappropriately timed throbbing of desire, because this really isn't the time or the place. But it's hot, and she stares at him with open admiration as she follows along after him.]

I'm right behind you.

[Her voice is barely a squeak because she doesn't dare try to say anything at length until after she's taken a few breaths to clear her head. She glances back over at the boys as he works at getting the door open, and she's pleased to see they've taken Johnnie seriously. Gosh, he's good at being rough and commanding. ]

I'll get the money out of the tin I grabbed. There were a lot of twenties in there.

[He probably reeling after hearing $20 for each kid. That's a lot of money in 1967. It's even a lot of money to them here and now. But maybe he'll be able to focus more on that lock without the threat of money having to come out of his pocket.]

[Sigh. Another lockpicking project. At least the last door got the rust shaken off, though.

Meanwhile, it takes him an extra second to process what she said through his concentration.]

Damn, there were? Thought you said it wasn't that much cash?

[Multiple twenties? A lot of them? Well, hell. That's the great thing about the future here, they throw money around like it's confetti. Their loose change is a chunk of his rent. That's exactly why they're here - and exactly why hopefully some of this shit is resellable even farther into the future, so when they come back home they can live like royalty.

Eventually the lock springs open, and Johnnie breathes a sigh of relief. He pockets his tools, then pulls the door open - cautiously this time, in case they also have bells or chimes or some actual shitty electronic alarm. Maybe if he has a few seconds -

Yep. He sees that blinking light right next to the open doorway. There's probably a deactivation code but who knows how the fuck these things work, and all he figures is they must give the user time to put that code in, so instead he uses that time to spring out his knife, pry the alarm panel loose from the wall, then pulls the whole thing off to disconnect the wires.]

Hope that works. Let's be quick, just in case. Get yourself somethin' real pretty to keep too, baby girl.

It wasn't full of cash. But there's probably close to a couple hundred in twenties in there.

[She doesn't need him to give her permission to take something for herself. But she does need the reminder that she should do so, because her primarily focus was definitely getting things they could pawn for all of the Enders. There's a grin on her face as she nods and hurries in after him, and doesn't waste too much time.

Maybe it's showing off, but it's mostly trying to figure out what she can do. Darkness going through people she's done. Using darkness to tear holes in reality she's starting to master. But using darkness to try and break through glass cases?

That's new. And it's pretty fucking awesome.

Well, it takes her some effort but she's able to focus long enough that she's able to create a small tear that she forces to explode outward, causing multiple display cases to crack and shatter open. Glass goes flying everywhere, and she's pleased when no alarms go off. Whatever Johnnie did must have disconnected the system.

All that jagged solidified darkness is discarded with a downward motion of her hand, and she jogs over to the cases to start pocketing and putting on everything she can carry. The pieces she keeps for herself are simple little things that have her birthstones. Tiny alexandrite studs on gold backings are popped right onto her ears, and a pretty pearl necklace that's timeless is draped over her neck. She grabs a moonstone ring to put on before she just takes the ring holder display containing tons of others that manage to shine even in the dim lighting.]

I don't think I can grab anymore, my everything is full. Should I head back out to the bike?

Well, fuck!

[Johnnie laughs in pleased shock as Chrissy rips open the cases, then dives in to help scoop all the goodies up. As interesting as the fancy antiques are, they're way too hard to carry. But gold and pearls sell well in all eras, and so he aims for whatever looks the most expensive and stuffs his pockets.]

I really gotta fuck around more with that stuff I was startin' to get a feel for. You're so fuckin' good at this already, babe. Yeah, head on out an' keep an eye on those kids. I'll only be a minute.

[Pretty quickly he gets to a point where he can't hold more either - his pockets are full, his hands are full, it's all a little much. But what he can do is grab one of the fancy decorative pillows in the window display, rip it open with his knife, pull out a bunch of the stuffing, then fill that with bracelets and brooches and necklaces until his hands are free again.

And, okay, just because it's calling to him, he takes a look at a case that had some funny little artifacts from the past. Who knows what they're worth, but an engraved ivory smoking pipe might at least be an entertaining gift for someone. Dale would get a kick out of it. And a knife inlaid in the hilt with fancy stones? That's for Clicks. He grabs a few other curiosities, then jogs on out to the street.]

[She stands watch at the back door that leads into the alleyway to watch the boys, and turns to head back int to get him out when he comes jogging her way.]

Let's get this stuff put up.

[The taller boy is standing near the bike while the younger is standing on the corner of the street to watch for anyone. Chrissy smiles at the sight of them actually doing what they're supposed to, and hurries to get all the jewelry meant to pawn into her Mighty Mouse lunchbox so they can get the saddlebags done up. The kid standing close by is watching with wide eyes, and she gives him a smile as she grabs one of the twenties to hand over to him.]

Thanks for keeping an eye on things. Let your friend know he can come grab his twenty before we take off.

[But as soon as she says it, she realizes he's already running over. She waves him over and passes a twenty along to him too. Both boys grin and start taking excitedly in Spanish, in whispers so she can't tell what they're saying. But she's pretty sure she hears something about beer and girls so they must be planning to have themselves a little party tonight. The roll of her eyes is amused as she hops on the back of the bike and gives Johnnie a hand so he can get in place himself.]

[Put up? Up where?

Okay no he can make sense of that it just takes a second to work out what she meant. White people, man.

Stuffing the whole jewelry pillow into the saddlebag is the next step while Chrissy pays off the kids, and he grins as he assesses their haul. Yeah, they did real good tonight and it hasn't even been that long.

So he gives the boys a wave and a brief farewell, then hops up into his seat and pats Chrissy on the thigh before starting up the engine and backing out onto the street.]

Good kids. Shoulda got their names. All right, let's get the fuck outta here. I think we oughta stash all this shit somewhere safe before we go fuck up Dante an' his boys. But if the cops are out lookin' around an' if they get word we're stayin' in that motel they might go look there, so... Any ideas?

[Up a tree? That's usually a good one. Or down in a manhole. Somewhere it'll be hard to spot for a few hours until they come back for it all.]

I sure like the feeling of an endless road

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