Ch 2
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Chapter 3
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“I know it’s a bit rude for me to talk back, sir,” Diero mumbled against my skull. “But this plan is the worst.”
It’s possible he said something else as well, but I couldn’t tell - his head was pressed against the roof of the vehicle and Racie was making obnoxious gasping noises to illustrate her discomfort with having Diero’s knees crushing her chest. It wasn’t much better for me, as most of Diero’s weight was pushing me into Winger, who in turn was flattening Cordax against the opposite door. And to top it all off, I was feeling just claustrophobic enough to find everything VERY UNCOMFORTABLE.
It’s enough to force someone to go to his happy place until it all ends. Except I don’t have a happy place. Or a happy anything.
“You’re going to crack my helmet!” Winger wailed.
“GASP!” Racie repeated. “GASP! GASP!”
“I can’t feel my third arm!” Cordax complained, drawing the attention of everyone in the vehiche. “Guys, it’s a joke. I don’t have a third arm. Can you stop looking at me like that? It isn’t making breathing any easier.”
“GASP!”
“Would you all please shut up?!” The officer in the blue Pakari almost begged, gripping the wheel in frustration. “I absolutely do not get paid enough to deal with you idiots, so shut up! We’re almost to the city. From there I’ll take you to the precinct and you can all have a nice sleep in separate cells, with plenty of room!”
This could work. I hadn’t considered it as a factor, but it could definitely work.
“Cordax, you call that a joke?” I chimed in, directing my words to the yellow and purple lump on the left-most side of the vehicle. “You wouldn’t know a joke if you looked in the mirror!”
Cordax gasped in retaliation, but the shift in tone that followed seemed to imply he got the hint. “Well if you wanted better humor, perhaps you need to um well um have more color in your life!”
There was another long silence.
“Color. Humor. Hue More?” Cordax tried to explain, but it only made it worse. “Sheesh, you don’t have to give me the silent treatment, I get that it’s bad.”
“Both of your attempts at jokes are coming up short.” Diero grumbled, then sharply inhaled through his nostril cavity at what he did there. “I promise that was intentional.”
“I would comment but I CAN’T BREATHE” Racie screamed.
“That is SO it.” The vehicle lurched to a halt, the blue Pakari of the officer whirling about to face the lunatics in the back seat. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t taser you all right now and save myself a lot of trouble.”
“Here’s a real good reason.” Diero stuck his head forward, smashing through the little gate dividing the front and back seating. The officer panicked, whipping his taser out with one hand and reaching across his body with the other to press the radio. But unfortunately for him, I had packed the back seating with a precise goal in mind.
Even as he pulled the trigger on his taser, I threw my fist forward with as much strength as I could muster - it had been freed from Diero changing position - and up through Diero’s lower jaw. His mouth opened wide as a knuckle sandwich came powering through, intercepting the taser bolts halfway and sending them right back into the officer’s face.
They proceeded to bounce ineffectively off his Pakari.
My arm was just too short to reach for him. Cordax took the opportunity to drive his knife into the back of the seat in front of him, which slid the blade between the headrest and the back of the seat. He kept pushing until the blade was fully exposed and the handle trapped in between the two sections. The officer was startled for a second at the ferocity of these motions, but as Cordax ineffectively stabbed nothing the Pakari-plastered policeman reached for his firearm. This plan is the worst.
Right as I was about to give up all hope in regards to stopping this character, the steering wheel airbag went off completely unprompted, slamming him against the seat. He shouted out for a moment, but then all went silent. The locks on the doors suddenly undid themselves, and Cordax, who had been holding the door handle open for leverage, tumbled out onto the road.
“Ow! What- How did that work?” He picked himself back up and brushed the dirt from the road off his purple hoodie. “I really didn’t expect that to work. Is he… You know… Deceased?”
Diero had wormed his way through to the front of the vehicle as Racie sputtered out a series of choking coughs, almost in tears at the thought of being able to breathe again. Winger was feeling his helmet over to ensure it was still just as dumb-looking as it ever was, with no discernable imperfections to mask its outlandishly bad design.
I’m sorry. I- Yeah, no I’m not. It looks dumb. He deserves the ridicule.
“Boss.” Diero hissed to get my attention. “He’s out.”
I gestured for Diero to assist me in getting up front. He grabbed me by the collar and violently yanked me through the hole in the divider gate. The officer had skewered his mechanical eye on the knife and solved my problem of what to do with him. Carefully removing the instrument of stabbing I dumped the poor fellow out the front door, made an incision in the airbag to let it deflate, and Diero took the wheel.
“Get in, loser.” I said to Cordax after he had finished his violent reaction to the sight of the dead body of the former officer. “We’re going on a trip.”
“He-” Cordax stammered instead of politely getting in the vehicle like I had requested. “He- He- He’s dead.”
“It was your knife, kiddo.” Diero shrugged, earning a sharp elbowing from me. This obviously did not make things better for Cordax, as he was now stammering and looking at both his hands in shock at what he had caused by pushing his knife into the seat of a car. Winger very graciously freed me from the moment by grabbing Cordax and almost throwing him inside.
“I imagine we should probably bury him.” Winger said, closing the door.
“Too much time.” Diero grimaced, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “Probably has tracking gear on him as well. It’d be better to throw him in the back and that way keep both trackers in one location.”
The doors suddenly locked.
“IS THAT EVERYBODY?” The radio crackled. “GOOD. I COULDN’T WAIT FOR THAT IDIOT TO BE DEAD.” There was a thump from the back of the vehicle, and I could see the officer crouched down on the rear bumper, firearm in his hand.
“LET’S RIDE.”
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Ch 4