Machine Man (serial)

The car leaped forward. I aimed for a guard to the left of the van: an older guy with a mustache. It was nothing personal. I mean, true, I’m no fan of mustaches. But that wasn’t why I pointed a car at him. He just happened to be in front of the van, and I wanted to avoid the rear, in case Carl was about to leap out of there.

The guard stepped professionally out of the way. He did not look at all scared, which was a little disappointing. Although it was hard to tell. It was a pretty bushy mustache. He unloaded his pistol into our tires as we passed. The car rang with flat impacts, as if we were being attacked by a baseball bat-wielding gang. This would have been an improvement on reality, now I think about it, so maybe I should have tried to sell that to Lola. All she knew was there were gunshots. But I was not really thinking about Lola: I was concentrating on crushing rose bushes while not getting killed.

We bumped onto the road, and I hauled on the wheel: not easy to do with one hand from the passenger seat. “Less acceleration!” I said, but not quickly enough, and we thumped into a parked wagon. I was thrown against Lola. Her head rebounded from the side window. She said something that sounded like Guk but probably wasn’t. I got my hand back on the wheel. “More acceleration!”

Lola’s eyes fluttered open. She looked short of breath for some reason, her skin waxy. “Oh. We hit… we hit a car.”

“My fault.” I threw a glance out the rear window. Better Future guards were jogging after us. Still no Carl! I couldn’t think where he could be. But we weren’t moving, and that was more urgent. “Let’s go!”

“Maybe… that was a mistake. Closing my eyes.”

The car dash was dark. There was a smell in the air: something acrid.

“My teachers always said…” She leaned forward until her forehead touched the steering wheel. “I had an active imagination.”

“Did you…” I couldn’t think of a word for it. “Discharge?”

“I thought…”

“Put your hands on the dash! Do it now!”

“I thought we hit…” Then she exhaled, like: Cah. At least, that’s what I thought. It wasn’t until later I realized she’d said: Carl.

132.