Road Trip

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It was seven o'clock in the morning. Will was sleepy, and the sun was rising. He had left at five, and he was already out of the city. He reached into the glove compartment. The only things he found were a flask, some napkins, a gun, and tax papers.

"Really, no snacks?" he said irritably. He closed it and looked up. Will saw a blue sign that showed a gas station nearby. The car exited the freeway and pulled into the parking lot of the gas station.

Meanwhile… William's landlord was walking up the stairs because it was Wednesday. "William, are you awake?" Mr. Shalan said, banging on the door. He waited for a minute but got no answer. "William, open this door!" he said, banging on it even louder.

When he didn't get an answer, he opened it with the master key. He saw no one, except for the roaches on the ground. "Ew," Mr Shalan said, walking out of the place. He didn't want to get roach guts on his shoes.

Then he saw a lady running towards him.

"Mr. Shalan, they stole my car last night." the lady said in distress. It was the same lady that pointed a gun at Will.

Mr. Shalan stared in awe as he connected the dots.

"Will is gone, and she lost her car," he mumbled, while he was deep in his deductive thoughts.

"Well ma'am, I think I know who stole your car," Mr. Shalan said, "Follow me," he said as they walked toward the office to call the police.

When they got in, they picked up the telephone and dialed 911. The police were there about 15 minutes after the call. After their conversation, the police knew who to find.

Inside the gas station, the news was on, but there was nothing about him so he wasn't super stressed out. Will grabbed some chips from the shelf, paid for them, and left. His motto was: In, out, go.

He had no clue that they already knew who to look for. As he walked along the pavement, a homeless woman asked him for change, and he ran away.

Will didn't want to get into the same situation that put him down this rabbit hole. He hopped in the car and drove off. Will was on the road for two hours when he realized that the radio wasn't on.

He turned it on and listened, expecting some music he would like.

That's not what he got.

"The police say that they are looking for a mixed male, about 5'11, with a white T-shirt, jeans, and a black jacket on. Keep your eyes open," said the reporter.

"Crap, they're onto me," said Will as he sped up to 90 without looking back. He was paranoid, and he took everything into consideration.

That was when he remembered he hadn't changed the plates yet, but he couldn't do it in broad daylight, could he?

It was a pressing situation, and the police were already on his trail. The gas station he stopped at was only two hours outside of Mors Tiones.

He reached into the center console and found some earphones, but he didn't have his phone, so no music except for the radio. The slim green sign on the side of the road was growing; 220, 221, 222, 223, 224.

The stress made everything faster, and tension grew as Will's senses spiked. He felt like Spider-Man because he was expecting anything bad to happen at any moment. Will drifted into a two lane narrow road.

He was rummaging through the center console with one hand on the wheel. Will only had half of the control over the car.

He nearly swerved into an 18-wheeler going the opposite direction! The truck swiveled and hit the car behind Will!

BOOM!

The ground shook as he heard the impact. The enormous truck tipped over and smashed the car. Whoever was in that car was trapped under 2,000 pounds of steel.

Will hit max speed and didn't stop because he wasn't clear on what just happened.

As he drove, he scraped the cement walls of the small two-lane express road and sparks flew towards the grass on the outside of the walls.

The side-mirrors were already decomposing on the side of the stolen Hamry when the car slowed down drastically.

He had already driven about ten miles away from the accident, and he was on the freeway again, but they would definitely catch up at this speed.

He hit the brakes and hopped out of the car, concerned about what was going on. It had a flat tire, and it would take some time to fix.

Will looked in the car's trunk and the lady he had stolen the car from had everything she needed to fix a flat, but he was running out of time.

The police would be here any minute and they would definitely notice him; if he walked, he'd have to walk in the woods so that no one would see him. But what if they search the woods? What if they're patrolling the woods looking for him?

What should he do? He was panicking, just like back at his apartment. Will had decided that he should fix the tire. Cars drove past him on the freeway and it shook him. The tire was a pain, but he kept trying. It was taking him a while to fix it, and sirens grew louder.

As he was finishing, he heard the revving of rough engines.

"Sound of da police by KRS-One," played. *If you don't know the song, just look up what I wrote in quotes.*

That's the sound of da police!

WOOP! WOOP!

That's the sound of the beast!

WOOP! WOOP!

He rushed himself and finished tightening the tire. He hopped in the car and sped off.

"I hope it stays," William said as he stomped on the pedal.

He got out of the express lanes and onto the freeway. The sirens were getting louder and louder. They were behind him; they were hunting him.

Will glanced at his rear-view mirror and saw three police cars behind him. "Stop the car!" one of the police officers said.

Will dashed down the grey asphalt road and one of the police cars came up beside him.

"Stop the vehicle, or we will use force!" the officers said firmly. Will sped up in protest and the car rammed him. William's car nearly went off the freeway, but it regained leverage.

"I'm not stopping!" said Will. He felt like O. J.

The initial car tried to ram him again, but Will sped up and the car missed and swerved off the freeway.

Another car tried to shoot at the Hamry's tires, but they missed as Will hit the brakes to hit the shooting car.

He bumped the shooting car and did a helicopter spin on the asphalt as it lost control. It spun out and nearly hit the third police car, but the car swerved out of the way and hit a civilian car. Both of them were out of commission.

As the third police car flipped, Will was off the scene. He glanced back at the cars behind him and they were in a pile.

They exploded, and he tried so hard not to look back again. "Phew, that was crazy." said Will as he hit cruise control in the car to relax. It was only nine o'clock.

He pulled over and looked under the seats to check for anything else. He found 50,000 dollars and guns. BIG GUNS.

"Who is this lady?" he said, surprised at why there were grenade launchers and rifles in the back of a coupe.

William got back in the car and drove off. He exited the freeway and drove off to a gas station. This station was pretty generic, except because there was no ice machine in front, so no ice for his bruises.

He bought a Swiss Army knife, a hat, and some more food, but with his own money, not with the money under the seat.

It could be dirty money, and he doesn't want to go to jail faster than he thinks he will. When he left the parking lot, he noticed a Goyoetae Hamry just like his own.

Will thought about taking the license plate since the gas station was like a ghost town… so he did. He unscrewed the plate and took it, but he didn't put it on the Hamry yet since that would take too long. He drifted out of the lot and went onto the freeway.

William drove for hours until it got dark. He switched the navigation to a hotel and got there in 50 minutes.

This was the moment of truth. Will was going to use the money that was under the seat. It might have been dirty, but William was ready.

He walked up to reception and said, "Can I have a room?", "Sure. It's $200 per night." she said, and Will handed her $200.

The hotel walls were white and the lights inside shone bright. There were sofas everywhere and big flat-screen TVs. It was something Will had never seen before. "Sir, your room is 204," the woman said as she handed him his key.

As William walked down the hall, he saw 104, 105, and 106; but when he went up the elevator he saw 201, 202, 203, and then 204. So he thought that the first number meant the floor.

He inserted the card into the door and opened the door once he heard a buzz. It was a pleasant room, and it smelled clean.

William dropped onto the bed and nearly fell asleep, but first he took a shower. When he got out, he wrapped his towel around his waist and leaned against the counter while looking at himself in the mirror.

The bathroom looked just like the downstairs area. White walls and white lights. He noticed a cut across his side and remembered what happened under the streetlight.

The bullet had grazed his ribs. If it had gone anywhere towards the left of his body, it would've hit his lungs and he would've died. Luck was on his side, and during this ride, he should swallow his pride.

"Wow, that rhymed," he said, while messing with his scab.

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