Even over the engine’s whine, I heard the Baron's guns chatter at me.

Continued from "Drive To Live"

Even over the engine’s whine, I heard the Baron's guns chatter at me. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one with armor.

The frame around me shuddered as rounds pinged off of the steel keeping death at bay. I took evasive action. The high caliber rounds would eventually go from making dents to making holes if I let them. Keeping one hand on the wheel, I slapped a round button on the dashboard. The thunk of something releasing under me let me know the caltrops were deployed. Now a river of metal spike filled the asphalt, waiting to chew on the Baron's tires.

The rearview showed me they had the desired effect. The other driver slowed and took his own pains to avoid the hazard.

I poured on the speed, knowing they wouldn't stop him. Any driver worth their salt would have heavy duty tires. That trick was more for stopping any neophytes to the road and the death it held. When I checked again I had doubled my lead. The breathing room gave me time to think. If he wanted me dead, he'd have pulled out the big guns, or in this case rockets. No, those shots were meant to stop me, not kill me.

The medicine I carried was intended for the president. If they stopped me or even slowed me down, he would die. There had to be more. If they managed to make me pull over or run me off the road, they would be able to steal it. There was a market for what I carried, even it if was only to blackmail the most powerful man in the country.

I had weapons, to be sure, but there was nothing on board big enough to get through the thick hull behind me. No, there was only one way. I just had to outrun him until he ran out of gas. A tank like that would drink fuel like a crazy. I grabbed the microphone on my dash and rolled over to the frequency used for duels like this. "So, Baron, it's a game of catch me if you can."

Static hissed from the speakers on either side of me. "Well, Tristan, don't you worry your little noggin about that. I don't have to catch you. I just have to keep you running."

I slapped my steering wheel and kept up the weaving. He wasn't shooting at me any more. No need to waste the ammunition. If I dropped back he'd start up again. If what he'd just hinted at was true, there were forces up ahead waiting to do me in. He warned me because he wanted me to sweat. "Maybe we can work something out?"

A low chuckle cut through the his. "Sure. You give up what you're carrying. Pull over to the side of the road, and we'll just trade the posies I have for you for that box you have for the president." The Baron did enjoy his game of cat and mouse, but he was every bit as subtle as the things he drove.

"Afraid I can't do that. I'm a man of my word." Sweat trickled down my face from my hairline. Fingerlings of moisture ran down to the small of my back. I had to come up with a plan and soon. I didn't need my Auto-Map to tell me I was maybe four kilometers from the next on ramp. That would be where the other gunsels would wait. That only gave me a minute to come up with a plan.

Art Source: Bombshell Betty on The Awesomer
Story and Characters (c)/by Scott Roche

#action, #RetroFuturism, #ScottRoche, #AltHistory, #Cars, #AltHistory, #1950s,

I was quickly running out of time and that fact seemed to be lost on everyone else present in the hotel.

I was quickly running out of time and that fact seemed to be lost on everyone else present in the hotel.  Either they had either never had Miranda Fox as a guest before or they were all very good at hiding the effects she had on people.  I wasn’t sure which scenario was happening and I didn’t have time to get to the bottom of it.
 
A senior member of the hotel's executive staff brought the elevator down to perform an obviously impromptu inspection of the junior lobby staff and I decided I’d had enough. Grasping my single case from beside me on the floor I used it to my advantage as I wove in and out of the immaculately placed lobby furniture.  People gladly got out of my way so they didn’t get smacked with my case.

"Excuse me sir." I ignored the concierge behind the counter as I made my way behind his station and kept moving.

"Sir?" The concierge clearly wanted to chase after me but he’d been summoned to take part of the inspection.

At the end of the hall I opened and entered the door to the manager's office without even providing a courtesy knock.  The act caused the manager to spin around in his chair away from the filing cabinet behind his desk.

"Can I help you?" He tried to look past me out the door to his office and down the hall and cocked an eyebrow as far up as it would go but it didn’t help him see any better.

"Yes you can." I sat in one of the empty chairs facing his desk.

"For a man who's paying such an exorbitantly large fee to your establishment I'm surprised that I'm having to wait in the lobby instead of the suite I’m paying for.  I'd like to be shown to my suite now please." I sat the case I brought with my on my lap and ran my index finger across the glossy top.

"Well your stay here with us, is very uh..." He paused to try and find the correct wording.
"Mr. Smith is it?" I nodded in the affirmative, he continued, "Your stay here is exactly the issue that is causing the delay I’m afraid.  We don't typically accept guests in our rooms for half the year sir.  In addition, never before has anyone attempted to pay for a stay all at once, in cash, at the beginning of..." I frowned at him, which caused him to stop talking at least, and moved the case from my lap to his desk and clicked open the locks.

Spinning my case around it was made clear to the hotel manager that only a single pistol lay atop a thick nest of cold hard cash in the case.  He adjusted his position in the chair he sat in, eyeing the contents with the filter of a man filled with life experience. "My business with this hotel is about to begin and I need to be in my suite once it does, I'm sure there is a way to expedite this matter." I nodded at the case.

"We have no business being done at the hotel today or even this week so I'm not exactly sure what you are refer..."

I moved the case back onto my lap.  I closed the latch.  The money was still inside.  The pistol I placed on top of the case where we both could see it. "You may not be privy to everything going on here today sir.  Trust me, if you'd like my money and like to have the room occupied to a quiet single occupant who's more than willing to pay your going rate up front in cash, what do you care?"

"I don't really.  I certainly don't care this much." The manager leaned forward in his chair and grinned at me as he reached out and spun the pistol away from him.  It was clear to me that he was not disturbed by it at all.  If I had more time, I might enjoy a drink with this man, or some target practice.

"Crude I know, but expediency is my priority right now.  I promise to make it up to you by being the easiest guest you've ever had.  You'll not even know I'm here."

"Well Mr. Smith your room is in fact ready.  I don’t see any further reasons to delay you.  Follow me and I'll take you to it." He stood and walked to the door, holding out his arm to indicate I should lead the way.  I stood up and he followed me from out of his office out into the large lobby where the staff was lining up to receive a guest.

"When it rains it pours." The manager shook his head as he pulled a key from its hook behind the counter as he led me out and around the concierge desk to the elevator bay.

I could all ready feel Miranda Fox’s presence even though she hadn't entered the hotel as of yet.  I had no more time to waste.

"I'm not the only big spender here today I see." I stated coyly as we waited for the elevator.

"No, Miranda Fox will be staying with us as well.  Do you know of her?"

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure." I lied.

"Neither have I." The elevator doors opened and both of us entered.

I fought to keep a huge grin off of my face as I could definitely feel her presence as she entered the grand lobby from the outside just as the elevator began its climb to the top floor.

Once there the doors opened again revealing a long hall sparsely adorned with plush carpet and beautiful furnishings.

The manger led me directly to my room where he opened the doors wide and automatically began his standard tour of the large suite of rooms.

"Here." I tapped him on the shoulder. 

Gaining his full attention I closed the case and handed it to him.

"Please extract whatever amount you feel is an adequate tip for your expediency in clearing up any issues that may possibly remain.  I'd like the case to be placed in the hotel safe for me as well."

The manager looked me up and down clearly never having met anyone like me.  I was now leaning toward the fact that none of the staff or guests in this hotel had ever experienced Miranda Fox as a guest.  Were they ever in for an experience of a lifetime.

"I have my doubts about you sir, however I’m simply the manager of this hotel and the owner has agreed to your lengthy stay here with us.  Rest assured I’ll be keeping my eye on you and I will be holding you to your words downstairs." With that the manager turned on his heels and exited my room without so much of another word.

I quickly closed and locked the front doors after putting the no disturb sign out on the door knob.  Next I moved around the rooms for a quick hunt for any modern literature.  I gathered up each piece and placed them in the bottom of the trash bin.  I closed all of the windows.  I pulled all the shades.  I unplugged the television and placed it on the floor of the utility closet.

I re-positioned an extremely large plush chair so that it was out in the middle of the room away from any other piece of furniture.  I could feel her presence much stronger now as I began removing articles of clothing from my body and tossing them on to the floor.  Looking them over, I made sure they were all timeless pieces of clothing.  Nothing could be left around to remind me of the modern age we now live in.

Once I'd removed everything but my under shirt and under pants I sat in the chair and began to concentrate.  I closed my eyes and controlled my breathing.  Soon, with practiced ease, I’d begun to slow down my heart rate.

It didn't take long for the old familiar feelings to return.  The present began to disappear from my mind like a receding tide.  The past began to roll into my brain like a thick London fog.

It was true.  My years of research were finally paying off.  All of that money was not wasted after all.

It was true.  It was true.  It was true.  It was true.  It was true.  It was true. 

Miranda Fox was some sort of special woman with special abilities.  She was a woman who projected a 'bubble' if you will, wherever she went. 

Whomever was in the vicinity of that bubble, if they were sensitive enough to feel it, were mentally transported back in time to 1934 which is where I would be living for the next six months now that I’d been caught up in Miranda’s bubble. 

Art Source: "The Moment" by Meluxine.
Story and Characters: (c)/by Caine Dorr
#1930's, #action, #adventure, #AltHistory, #dieselpunk #caindorr #superpowers

Drive To Live

The road spilled out before me. The interstate grid system made sure you were never out of options when it came to at least four lanes of smooth, black trail. There was a time when no roads went coast to coast. They'd actually talked about using rails and steam trains to carry everything from cattle to vegetables. Can you imagine not being able to change lanes or suddenly decide you needed to go south? I can't. But then I make my living by being fast and flexible.

I don't haul freight, but what I do carry is just as important to the people who hire me. US Parallel 35 carried me through New Mexico and the juice from the grid beneath the roads kept my Daimler-Tesla power plant humming. Everything was going the way it should, when the early warning system told me someone was coming up on my rear.

It wasn't against the law, not exactly, but everyone was supposed to maintain at least a fifty meters of space between their fellow motorists on the interstate system. It was more courtesy than anything else. I signaled to switch lanes and in the process, pulled the switch to bring the big turbine engine online. It wasn't needed on the main roads, but it would let me go a bit faster than my D-T alone.

My angled rear view told me this individual meant business. The slick black sedan was built more like a tank than my low slung coupe. Chrome pipes jutted up and back over the rear wheels and were already spitting smoke. They were running on petrol, not electricity. That would take away my advantage. Six wheels, mostly covered by fairings, gripped the road. When side panels dropped away and cylindrical guns slid out, I remembered where I'd seen it before, or at least its predecessor. It belonged to the Black Baron.

I dropped into the highest gear I had and dumped all of the turbine power into the drive train. While my engine screamed and the body lowered, I took a split second to pulled down an extra set of restraints and clip them into place. The fifty meters I'd put between myself and the Baron in the intervening half second might save my life. More important, it might save President Wallace. If I didn't get the contents of the box to Parkland Memorial in Dallas, then he wouldn't live to see a third term.

Art Source: RM 309 #3 by 600v on DeviantArt
Story and Characters (c)/by Scott Roche

#action, #RetroFuturism, #ScottRoche, #AltHistory, #Cars, #AltHistory, #1950s,