3AMincident
Bluelighter
Pulling out of the bank, we found ourselves stuck in a parade, people all waving and singing and marching.
“What the hell is happening?” whispered Devo.
We had slipped in front of a flatbed float filled with crazy looking clowns that were throwing candy and weird balloons at the small crowd lining the street. In front of us was an army of gymnasts, flipping and jumping their way down the street.
“How long were you guys using the ATM? Did I pass out again?” I wanted to know. I looked at Devo driving and Dean in the backseat, but they were too amazed at the turn of events to answer my question.
Somewhere in front of the gymnasts I could see the revolving lights of two police cruisers, every once in a while squeezing off a blast from their sirens.
“What is this? There isn’t supposed to be a parade! On a Wednesday afternoon?” Devo was starting to bug out.
“Wait, I know what this is,” Dean said from behind me. “It’s the parade to celebrate homecoming weekend coming up I remember two or three years ago when I worked at the camp and we had to make floats with the little kids that was a nightmare trying to get them organized for something like that.” He spoke slowly at first, but when he started to speak about the camp, his words picked up tremendous speed and volume, making them very hard to understand. It wasn’t until then that I realized the drugs were gripping us fiercely.
We continued our lazy course behind the gymnastics squadron. “I have to be careful with my driving here,” Devo said, more to himself than anybody else. “One wrong move, and those acrobats are history.”
“People will think it’s part of the show,” Dean advised. “But you better be careful, because the clowns behind us look dangerous. Who knows what they’re filling those balloons with.”
We passed by an old abandoned building. I glanced through a crack in one of the boarded windows and saw that it was a factory where robots were building other, more sophisticated robots. One looked in my direction, and I saw murder in his glowing red eyes. “Oh guys, oh shit, we have to get out of here right away before the robots break through the side of that building!”
“HOLD ON! THIS IS GOING TO BE ROUGH!” Devo shouted, braking his car. He spun the wheel quickly to the right and gunned it, hopping over the curb and cutting the corner across the intersection. We managed to kill nobody, and were able to shoot down a side street without being pursued.
***
“A getaway like that,” I said, looking at the flat tire, “Something had to give.”
Devo was smoking a cigarette. “Drastic situations and extreme measures. We were lucky to escape with our lives.”
We had managed to flee into the countryside. Dean was sitting on a big rock next to a stream, staring at an electric eel twisting lazily through the branches of an underwater tree.
“We’re going to have to wait for supplies,” Devo informed. “We may be some time out here.”
I slipped into the woods, saying behind me, “I’ll start foraging.”
The forest around me was the color of an iceberg at night. Being in there was like being able to breathe underwater. The sounds of the forest were everywhere – chirping, buzzing, squawking, flapping and scuttling. I floated from tree to tree, unsure of what exactly it was I was looking for. I scanned the bark fingerprints of a skinny tree. “Do you have what we’ll need to survive the evening?” I asked, but the only response I got was the mean whispering of an airplane far above, contrasting sharply with the organic sound of the nature. The translucent vapor trail of the incinerated jet fuel began drifting through the canopy of the forest, vines of mist reaching down and puddling in the musk earthen floor of the forest.
“If that doesn’t beat all,” I said to myself. “Not even this forest is safe from the touches of technology.” I set about gathering small logs we could use to build a signal fire, but every one I found seemed to be covered with a sticky ooze I knew would hamper any ignition efforts. The next stage of evolution, a sophisticated means of protection. We would have to find another method of rescue. I sat down in a soft bed of pine needles to ponder the situation, and I slipped away from reality, into one of the gaps in memory users of powerful drugs are familiar with.
***
I was seamlessly reclaimed by consciousness and wouldn’t have noticed the lapse in time except for the fact that it was beginning to get dark. A large snail had made its way up to me while I was unconscious and appeared to be examining me. “How can I help you Snail?”
The snail chuckled aloud. “I do not think I am the one that needs help.”
I thought about that for a moment. “So allow me to ask another question. How then Snail, can you help me?”
“That all depends. You will need to find the roots of your problems, and then seek me out again. Then I will have more answers. Then I will be able to help you better.”
The snail’s words had confused me, and I ached to ask more, but he was slowly slugging away and there was nothing I could do to stop him. “Snail, Snail wait, don’t leave quite yet.” But he was gone, and when I tried to follow his slime track, I lost it in a tangle of bushes. Hands on my hips, I looked around for a few moments before deciding to follow a pulsing, glowing orange trail out of the forest to find my friends.
…
Part 2 to come next week
------------------
-------------------------
I got to slip into the field like Han SoLo
“What the hell is happening?” whispered Devo.
We had slipped in front of a flatbed float filled with crazy looking clowns that were throwing candy and weird balloons at the small crowd lining the street. In front of us was an army of gymnasts, flipping and jumping their way down the street.
“How long were you guys using the ATM? Did I pass out again?” I wanted to know. I looked at Devo driving and Dean in the backseat, but they were too amazed at the turn of events to answer my question.
Somewhere in front of the gymnasts I could see the revolving lights of two police cruisers, every once in a while squeezing off a blast from their sirens.
“What is this? There isn’t supposed to be a parade! On a Wednesday afternoon?” Devo was starting to bug out.
“Wait, I know what this is,” Dean said from behind me. “It’s the parade to celebrate homecoming weekend coming up I remember two or three years ago when I worked at the camp and we had to make floats with the little kids that was a nightmare trying to get them organized for something like that.” He spoke slowly at first, but when he started to speak about the camp, his words picked up tremendous speed and volume, making them very hard to understand. It wasn’t until then that I realized the drugs were gripping us fiercely.
We continued our lazy course behind the gymnastics squadron. “I have to be careful with my driving here,” Devo said, more to himself than anybody else. “One wrong move, and those acrobats are history.”
“People will think it’s part of the show,” Dean advised. “But you better be careful, because the clowns behind us look dangerous. Who knows what they’re filling those balloons with.”
We passed by an old abandoned building. I glanced through a crack in one of the boarded windows and saw that it was a factory where robots were building other, more sophisticated robots. One looked in my direction, and I saw murder in his glowing red eyes. “Oh guys, oh shit, we have to get out of here right away before the robots break through the side of that building!”
“HOLD ON! THIS IS GOING TO BE ROUGH!” Devo shouted, braking his car. He spun the wheel quickly to the right and gunned it, hopping over the curb and cutting the corner across the intersection. We managed to kill nobody, and were able to shoot down a side street without being pursued.
***
“A getaway like that,” I said, looking at the flat tire, “Something had to give.”
Devo was smoking a cigarette. “Drastic situations and extreme measures. We were lucky to escape with our lives.”
We had managed to flee into the countryside. Dean was sitting on a big rock next to a stream, staring at an electric eel twisting lazily through the branches of an underwater tree.
“We’re going to have to wait for supplies,” Devo informed. “We may be some time out here.”
I slipped into the woods, saying behind me, “I’ll start foraging.”
The forest around me was the color of an iceberg at night. Being in there was like being able to breathe underwater. The sounds of the forest were everywhere – chirping, buzzing, squawking, flapping and scuttling. I floated from tree to tree, unsure of what exactly it was I was looking for. I scanned the bark fingerprints of a skinny tree. “Do you have what we’ll need to survive the evening?” I asked, but the only response I got was the mean whispering of an airplane far above, contrasting sharply with the organic sound of the nature. The translucent vapor trail of the incinerated jet fuel began drifting through the canopy of the forest, vines of mist reaching down and puddling in the musk earthen floor of the forest.
“If that doesn’t beat all,” I said to myself. “Not even this forest is safe from the touches of technology.” I set about gathering small logs we could use to build a signal fire, but every one I found seemed to be covered with a sticky ooze I knew would hamper any ignition efforts. The next stage of evolution, a sophisticated means of protection. We would have to find another method of rescue. I sat down in a soft bed of pine needles to ponder the situation, and I slipped away from reality, into one of the gaps in memory users of powerful drugs are familiar with.
***
I was seamlessly reclaimed by consciousness and wouldn’t have noticed the lapse in time except for the fact that it was beginning to get dark. A large snail had made its way up to me while I was unconscious and appeared to be examining me. “How can I help you Snail?”
The snail chuckled aloud. “I do not think I am the one that needs help.”
I thought about that for a moment. “So allow me to ask another question. How then Snail, can you help me?”
“That all depends. You will need to find the roots of your problems, and then seek me out again. Then I will have more answers. Then I will be able to help you better.”
The snail’s words had confused me, and I ached to ask more, but he was slowly slugging away and there was nothing I could do to stop him. “Snail, Snail wait, don’t leave quite yet.” But he was gone, and when I tried to follow his slime track, I lost it in a tangle of bushes. Hands on my hips, I looked around for a few moments before deciding to follow a pulsing, glowing orange trail out of the forest to find my friends.
…
Part 2 to come next week
------------------
-------------------------
I got to slip into the field like Han SoLo
