User blog:Aravis Tarkheena/LMBWFF Part 11

I didn't proofread too well... if there's a mistake, let me know. I won't rant about commenting this time, but JUST DO IT. IT MAKES ME HAPPY.

PART 11

Guacamilla had left the semi-chaos of late-evening downtown traffic, and was gradually getting completely lost. She was driving through quiet streets of run-down shops and shabby houses, and as the streetlights played their rhythmic yellow dance across the hood and dashboard, she reflected almost sadly that nearly all of the town she had seen was somber, tired.

A neatly cut rectangle of light largened as she drove into the glow cast by a streetlight; it filled the windshield and slanted, angular, onto her hands griping the wheel, then slipped into her lap and across her chest as it slip back off the hood, flashed briefly in her eyes and was dragged back as she drove on, leaving that pool of light as the next one drew her forward. The sequence was performed again. And again. And once more.

It didn't change; she thought, blinking as the glare met her eyes once again. All over the world, for years and years, streetlights toss fleeting patterns into cars, and it will go on for years and years. Probably it would go on until Google or Nissan or someone made those driverless cars; ones that memorised the roads so lights weren't needed. But the pedestrians would still need lights, and there would always be pedestrians. Always, until time ended. Though it felt like time had already ended in this town. It felt that it was dying, not vicious and painfully, but in a slow, tiring way that seemed to ache.

Guacamilla hated that. She wanted no part of death, wanted to shake off the growing numb sleepiness she felt, wanted to be very much alive. She needed to get back to her two companions and stop driving aimlessly. This whole adventure had some definite illegal points, anyways. She didn't have a lisense and wasn't even old enough to have one, she'd nearly hit several innocent pedestrians, had run at least one red light, ignored more signs than she'd like to admit, and there was one more thing she was trying to remember... oh. Yeah, the car was stolen. It didn't feel like it, though, so she ignored that pesky little fact. She'd already decided to keep the car, so the next pressing question was how to get back to the alley.

With only half a mind on the road ahead of her, Guacamilla gathered her thoughts enough to remember vaguely where she'd driven from and how she'd return. She would have to turn east at the next turn and make her way south to the right end of the city. It would likely be easier to skirt around the city than to endanger any more more lives by attempting to drive in a populated area- besides, she could drive faster.

Speeding down an empty road, Guacamilla started to get an uneasy feeling. She may have had her plans settled for the moment, but after they were complete, she was honestly clueless about what to do.

Obviously, the most important thing was to get out of here, wherever this was, and get home, wherever that was. The only problem was that Guacamilla really didn’t know where this place was, and as ludicrous as it seemed, she had a hunch that she’d been transported through time as well as space; into what felt like the late 70s or early 80s, from the looks of it. That only made the possibility of getting home even slimmer, because - how on earth did one time-travel? Aside from the Delorean time machine, of course. But this car certainly wasn’t capable of any abnormal feats, as far as she knew.

The car was approaching the city again, so Guacamilla slowed to a more moderate and decent speed.

Assumming she and her fellow users couldn’t return to the modern day and their homes, they’d have to make the best of the present situation. Three teenagers… the dead body of a friend… no contacts… a killer on the loose… nothing familiar… and a stolen car. This was nothing she couldn’t handle, she thought confidently- and too soon. She barely glimpsed the dark form racing across the road in front of her car, then heard the dull thump and barely stifled cry.

Guacamilla slammed her foot down on the brake pedal, petrified. The car jolted to a stop, and common sense took over as she threw open the door and jumped out. Or maybe not-so-common sense? It was certainly dangerous to expose herself like this, but it would be criminal to just run. Sure, she’d broken a lot of laws already, but to break this one more was definitely against her conscience.

Rounding the back of the car, Guacamilla released the breath she’d been holding. No prone and bleeding body greeted her, but instead a girl, who looked slightly older than her, was stiffly picking herself out of the ditch by the roadside.

“Are you alright?” Guacamilla asked hoarsely, mouth dry as sand.

The girl took off her glasses and wiped them methodically on the hem of her shirt before answering, then looked up. “I suppose if you’d killed me, at least Marus wouldn’t have had the satisfaction of doing it himself.”

“Marus?” Guacamilla was only able to form that one word.

“I like to think I have an evil side, but he’s pure evil.” She slipped her glasses onto her face and looked down again. “I was actually looking for him.”