CounterPoint Zombies

[Skitzo-phrenick]

OOC

The sensation was like drowning. Just standing there in silence, he felt like he was floating through water. True he could still breath just fine, but the resemblance to an actual drowning was uncanny. Well at least in the way that he remembered the experience. The air was cold and heavy, forcing each breath to fill with a feeling of newness that caused both terror and exhilaration to have their way with his senses. Like water in his ears, every sound was muted, and taste and smell had left him completely. Sight only brought him panic and concern, so he chose to not let it rule him and let his eyes remain closed. Touch, however, was a different story.

His body thought it right to let him feel everything. Each miniscule grain of dust, breath of air, gust of a breeze was like a fingerprint upon his skin that never left him. Time itself seemed to stand still just long enough for him to absorb each little sensation to memory, and from the piercing weight of his shackles down to the beads of sweat that clung to his skin, he grasped for it all.

A relaxed sigh escaped him before a deep and steady inhale of soiled air followed. He smelled nothing and tasted nothing, making it all the more delicious and a perfect escape from the ungodly chaos that abound him.

“Your meditation bullshit ain’t gonna help you today, doctor,” spoke an amused, southern accent that was just close enough to not become muddled like the rest of the chaos. A smile formed on Josiah’s lips, gentle in appearance as he opened his eyes and turned to the guard at his side, letting each sense return to normal.

“I’m curious just what you believe I’m meditating for,” the doctor replied over the sounds of the yelling and jeering of his fellow inmates, whom seemed more than pleased to be rid of him. He openly felt relief as well. The air stank of them, and he longed for some new smells.

“It doesn’t matter,” the southerner answered, “Ain’t nothing here that anyone can avoid by just closin’ their eyes and doing some deep breathin’.” Josiah took a moment before answering, letting his eyes look over the crowd that formed along the walls and fences, screaming obscenities in his direction and making fowl gestures aside from the gentle and exhausted few.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he submitted with a sigh, “They do seem oddly strong-willed in getting my attention.” The guard laughed heartily at the statement, slapping the criminal doctor on the back in a sign of affection Josiah was familiar with from the man.

“Well that’s one polite way of puttin’ it!” the guard said through his guffaws.

“I don’t find any part of this situation funny,” came another voice from the back, causing the guard to straighten his posture instantly, “so please explain to me, Johnson, why you’re laughing.” A tall, thin, African-American man, looking to be in his late 50s to early 60s stepped into their line of sight, a disapproving glare steady upon his brow as he looked between the two of them. Josiah immediately recognized him as the head of the guards in the prison. Unfortunately the guard named Johnson seemed to recognize him as well, stumbling for words to form an answer, so Josiah chose to answer in his place.

“I apparently said something amusing.” He offered up the answer with a smile, causing the glare of the head man to intensify on him.

“Don’t you start with me, Galleon!” he ordered in a deep tone, jabbing his finger into the good doctor’s chest, “You’ve been nothing but trouble since you were admitted here, and since the riot used to shadow your near death was caused by you killing two members of the largest gang incarcerated here, I can’t help but cheer with the rest of the rabble out there at the fact that this will be the last time we see each other.”

“I understand,” was Josiah’s immediate reply, making sure to sound as serious as possible despite his urge to smile, “If it means anything though, I’d like you to know that I’m going to miss you.” The older man’s glare never ceased, making no reaction to the doctor’s words other than simply brushing them off and turning to the other guard.

“Johnson, head up the rear. I’ll lead the ‘good doctor’s’ escort.”

“Yes, Dobbs-sir.” The man couldn’t help to answer in such a way. He wasn’t the only one who succumbed to military behavior around his senior leader. It seemed that the head guard’s military background followed him everywhere through his behavior. It only felt right to call him ‘sir’.

“You better not give me any trouble, Galleon,” he said as he turned to the well-behaved prisoner once more, “I won’t hesitate to have you shot if any trouble comes to me and my men.”

“You’ll have no problems from me, sir,” Josiah answered pleasantly only to be ignored once more as Dobbs focused on moving to his side and Johnson moved in back of him with the other guards that had been blessed with the duty of being his protection from the other inmates as well as his moving prison for their own security.

The next few minutes were spent in preparation, with Dobbs barking orders to the other guards while Josiah was fitted with a bulletproof vest and a fair warning on how good of a shot the guards in the towers were. He only remained silent and smiling in response, complying with anything they thought would keep him safe. Then like a walk in the park the escort began, leading him through a fenced aisle with convicts on either side and out to the vehicle that would act as a valkyrie, removing him from his current order of life and taking him to a new and better place of living.

[Fishie]

"Hey! You've reached Audery. I'm not available at this time, but, if you leave your name, number and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible! BEEEEP!"

"Hey, Babe. I guess you're workin' on some old lady's hair right now. Those old bitties won't keep us apart much longer, though! Ha-ha! Anyway, I'm going to be gone for a few days. I'm gunna be hungerin' for your cookin' and your lovin', while I'm keep the streets safe for you and our baby girl. Give Baby-girl a hug and a kiss for me when you put her to bed. I love you, Baby," said the homeside US Marshal before he ended his message with kissy sounds, then closed his cell phone with a sigh and streched. Bernard gave a heavy grunt as he shifted his position in the white leather car seat so he could push his phone back into the front pocket of his dark blue jeans. It was one of those weeks for him - the one where he always seemed to get the voicemail rather than his wife's gentle voice he so missed; it seemed forever since they were last together in person. He folded his dark, muscle arms on the tan leather steering wheel of the sedan before he rested his forehead on them.

His partner, Stanley, didn't understand how a man could lose himself over a woman like Bernard did. The only thing he knew of love was the three: one night stands, the smell of cigarettes every 20mins, and liquor on the weekends. Stanley rolled his eyes at his partner before going back to reading up on the file of the risky cargo that would soon arrive.

"Hey, 'Big B'," Stanley said mimicking Audery as she had said gushingly a hundred times before, "Have you read up on this guy? He sounds like a freakier version of Hannibal! Just reading his file freaks me out."

Stanley poked Bernard in the arm with the file. The married man leaned back in his seat and took the file to glance over it. He didn't bother to read it though; he was too impatient. Audrey was his drug, and he was having withdrawals. He wanted to go back home to her as soon as possible, but first they had to complete the assignment. He let out another exasperated sigh as he became lost in thought about his wife. The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his reverie and he turned to see the murderer and his escort heading towards the preson gates a few feet behind the transport car. He turned around, sat casually in his seat, and looked down at the picture on the file.

"Hey, look," Bernard declared as he nudged his partner in the ribs, causing him to growl and shrink away from the contact. Stanley lazily rolled himself out of the car and opened the passenger's side back door with his right hand on his pistol just in case.

Stanley leaned back, his upper body being supported only by the opened door he held on to, and looked Bernard in the face through his front side window before saying, "Looks like everyone's happy he's leaving."

"Guess they would be, since he killed two gang members-"

Stanley interrupted the words with incoherent gibberish, which was accompanied by random shushing sounds and gestures. Bernard chuckled at his partner's behavior before turning his attention, laced with prejudged contempt towards the monster. He watched the handful of guards walk through the last gate in the rear-view mirror while he still held the file.

Bernard looked back at the file and threw it on the dashboard, mumbling to himself as he dragged his hand down his face causing his head to hang forward, "What the-?! A wife and three kids...I wonder how crazy she had to be at the time. Hope those kids don't catch his crazy!"

Stanley, with his chest puffed out and a scowl on his face, cocked his head to the side as he walked closer to the guards and Josiah to take over the march to the car. "Hope you can learn to play well with others at this new place, because apparently you didn't do so well here," Stanley spat.

Dobbs gave Stanley a judgmental look as if to communicate, Why the hell do you care?!

"Regardless of that, Marshal, you should keep an eye on him," Dobbs said as he looked at the officer and shoved the prisoner towards the gate. He immediately turned his head away from Stanley, when he had to catch Josiah from falling after being pushed a bit too hard. Dobbs looked the convict over, while every now and then making sure he didn't trip as he shoved him closer to the first gate. He pulled out his card to let the officers, himself, and Josiah pass through. "He's quite the manipulator. Don't ever let him get his hands on anything sharp. You'll regret it as soon as you see your innards falling towards the ground."

Stanley shivered a bit at the thought but quickly regained his tough-guy composure, "There's absolutely no way I'm ever going to let that happen." He glared at Josiah and continued, "I'll shoot you for sure if you move without my permission. You got that?" He backhanded the gate with his baton to intimidate.

Bernard heard the fence rattle, looked in the rear view mirror and just rolled his eyes and shook his head. How professional, he thought scornfully as he put on his seat belt and turned on the car to heat up the engine. The sound alerted the police cars surrounding him that the long journey to hell would commence at last. He just hoped it would be quick.

[Skitzo-phrenick]

Josiah had a tough time managing to keep himself on his feet, but he did his best to try. The last thing he needed was a face full of the dirt and sand but thankfully he had Dobbs there, who despite his earlier threats seemed to care enough to make sure that the man did in fact make it to the car somewhat balanced. Chances were though that he was only doing it to speed up the escort. Though he was dumb enough to get caught and put into jail, Josiah was smart enough to know that Dobbs wanted this whole scene done and over with as soon as possible.

"Sir, you seem to overestimate me," Josiah spoke up after hearing Dobbs' warning to the other officer, who he seemed to have a bit of trouble in catching his name. The convict turned to the US Marshal with a bit of a grin before saying. "I'm not all that bad and he knows it. This was really only a one time event. That's all. Right, Sir?" Dobbs let a growl escape his lips before he pushed him further on ahead, causing Josiah to stumble a bit and run into the nearby fence. He turned around so that his back was to his soon to be mode of transportation to see himself at the receiving end of the US Marshal's glare.

"I'll shoot you for sure if you move without my permission. You got that?" Josiah flinched a bit as the loud crash of the baton hitting the gate echoed around them, the waves of the force put into the chain link gate doors rippling about them and causing the fence itself to wave.

"Would that pertain to every bodily function or just the major ones?" he asked almost innocently as he looked up at the symbolic brute force of the law in front of him. The man's face wrinkled into confusion a bit before Dobbs took to stepping in for him.

"He's a bit of a smart ass as well," the older man continued as he signaled to the other guards to stay put now that they passed through the second gate. "I would suggest you don't even bother with brute force on this one. Chances are he might like it." Josiah could only smile at the shocked look that took place on the unfamiliar man's face.

"Sick and disgusting. You couldn't set my expectations any higher, scum," was the Marshal's first audible reply, causing Josiah to look downward a bit.

"I apologize if I disappoint you." It was the stranger's turn to make a growling noise of irritation as he grabbed the back collar of Josiah's criminal wear and forcefully led him to the car that awaited them.

"Let's get this over with as soon as possible. I've already had enough of you." It was at this point that the man had already lost Josiah's attention. The criminal doctor too busy waving at Dobbs and the other guards as he was struggling to walk/be dragged along the ground toward the car, taking more interest in the fact that his former guard wasn't even bothering to return his wave than the threats that were being mumbled to him from his new baby-sitter.

Before even a second had passed, Josiah found himself quickly forced into the back of the car as the new Marshal moved into the front passenger's seat. He took the time to look over the seats, bouncing in them almost childishly for a bit as he let his cuffed hands touch the cheap fabric. "Well this will be a lot more comfortable than I expected," he spoke up pleasantly before turning his attention the rest of the car and seeing the other presence of a man in front of him.

"Dr. Josiah Galleon," he spoke up in a gentlemanly fashion as he struggled to bring his fingers to the plexiglass fencing between them, the restraints of his cuffs making it difficult to move, "Pleased to meet you."

[Fishie]

Out of the corner of his eye, Bernard saw the pasty-colored fingers sticking out of the fencing and gave a wry look at the pleasant gesture he was given.

"Sir, please sit back in your seat and fasten your seat belt," Bernard said as he adjusted himself in his seat to prepare himself for the drive. Stanley turned around as much as he could to look at Josiah.

"Yeah. We wouldn't want any accidents to happen, now, would we?" Stanley begged agressively not only with his tone but with his eyes to evoke the tiniest reaction within the butcher. The officer was like a Pit Bull trained for a fight; he wished to break free from his leash and assault the wretch before him, tear him limb from limb, but musiness called for restraint.

"Down, boy," Bernard soothed after he noticed the murderous aura his partner was enveloped in. His command enduced a dog-like snarl, complete with lunging at each sound. He chuckled a bit over how rediculous it was to see a baby-faced man act like such a vicious fiend. He decided to try and change the topic in an effort to tame the beast, but also because he was genuinely curious. "Hey, so what's this I hear about you having a date with one of my wife's hairdressers? Is it anything serious or what?"

Stanley's snarls quickly turned to smiles. He turned around in his seat, laced his fingers together and stretched them forward cracking the knuckles. "Just some serious action!" Stanley chuckled, shaking his thick frame, but stopped as quickly as it started when he noticed the Bernard's disaproving look. As they started to pull away from the prison gates, he continued, but this time with more respect in his tone, "No, I don't know what's going to happen with her. I mean- I like her and all- but I just don't think I can see a future with such a nice girl."

"What's wrong with a nice girl?" Bernard interjected. "From what Audrey was saying, she was pretty into trimming those blonde locks of yours." Bernard countered by twirling the non existent hair on Stanley's shoulder. He knew he would get a response from that.

"Hey, don't be jealous of the locks," Stanley remarded as he jokingly tossed his invisible locks, "just because all you can grow is a thick afro."

"Hey! Don't be dissin' the 'fro!" Bernard retorted as he patted his invisible afro. "But, no, seriously, are you going to continue seeing her and hopefully go for the goal?" Again, Bernard nudged him and got the same response he received earlier that day.

"Ha! Already got to the goal and scored multiple touchdowns. Aw yeah! At least a bajillion points for Stan the man!" A mischievous grin spread across his face as he proclaimed his sexual prowess.

Bernard was a bit shocked at his statement but had to admit that Stanley's Charisma could win over even the heart of a nun. The thought made him chuckle- and shudder- at the same time. He replied, "No. I meant for the goal to stand for Stan the man settles down with someone and maybe having a family."

"Bernie, I'm 43 years old. I'm not in the skinny kid I once was in high school. Hell, I barely even got to have a childhood. I'm living the rest of my life how I want so don't just sit there, being the married man you are, and tell me what I'm missing out on."

"...Woah, man. I didn't mean to strike a nerve there. Sorry about that," Bernard apologized as he looked at Stanley worried out of concern for his well being and professionalism.

"No, it's okay. It's just-- You know how I get when I start to think about my childhood and having to be the only man around the house."

Nodding his head in comfort, Bernard tried to figure a way to change the subject and get things back onto a happier note for the drive. He didn't think this really was the best time to be having a complete breakdown with a prisoner in the back seat.

"So, how about them bears?" Stanley stuttered as he felt the oppressing silence fall over them like a rug. He knew now was the time to change the subject, lest the pit bull be release upon its master.

[Skitzo-phrenick]

Josiah was actually surprised by how little he had to offer in terms of holding up a conversation with the two U.S. Marshals. There was nothing really TO say to them, but overall he couldn’t help but feel somewhat grateful for the fact that they seemed to be hospitable despite their judicial bias. At the idea of being referred to as ‘sir’ though he only felt uncomfortable. Such titles were meant for men like Dobbs, who thrived on a southern/military-like respect, which consisted of discipline, mindlessness, and following whatever rules handed to you. They weren’t meant for men like him.

There was no real opportunity for Josiah to state this though; since right after the newer guard spoke to him, the other, more threatening one was in his face in nearly an instant after, trying to instigate some sort of fight from him. At the eagerness for misbehavior, Josiah couldn’t help but quickly move back from the escorting officer, pulling his fingers from the Plexiglas barrier almost instantly to make some distance between the two of them. The action was followed by a relieved sigh as the calmer of the officers detracted attention away from him for a moment, letting him take some more time to cherish the plush feel of the cheap leather of the back seat and find his seatbelt before they began their journey.

He found it fascinating how in just a few moments of looking comfortably at the seating, he was seemingly forgotten by the other men in the car. He wasn’t surprised by the behavior, since it usually happened, but that didn’t make it any less fascinating. A long time ago, when he was still in his college years, he concluded that he possessed some sort of trait to his presence that seemed to mask itself completely. Commonly he found himself witness to embarrassing events of childish, violent, or even sexual behavior, and no one managed to notice him till he finally made himself presentable. Even in St. Andrews Hospital he found himself victim to personal conversations that had been started right next to him. This situation seemed no different. Still he did what he was most accustomed to doing and sat in silence to listen.

He learned through the conversation that the guard at the wheel who had amusingly started the playful bought of invisible hair went by the name of Bernie, while the other who seemed to have dog like behavior in the physical and metaphorical sense was referred to as Stan (or more to his preference ‘Stan the Man’). The more interesting part about them was that despite their closeness, they seemed very different in nature and belief, one still locked in his 20s while the other succumbed to his older life of responsibility and settling down. Needless to say this made their conversation interesting and it difficult for Josiah to stop himself from smiling. True, he wasn’t part of the topic and was being completely ignored, but that didn’t make listening to the talk all the more amusing… that is of course until the end.

The air was thick with tension and awkwardness almost as quickly as it was joyous, and the innocent seeming doctor couldn’t help the disappointment that consumed him when they decided to stop. It was just getting interesting too. Still he knew better than to complain aloud. That would only bring attention to him again, and chances were it wouldn’t be the good kind. There was no inner argument against joining in the conversation and trying to help move things along though. That he could do well.

“I believe they are doing just as horribly as they always are doing,” he spoke up in a neutral tone from the back, making sure to make his posture still so not to cause any suspicion to form from the other men “Unless of course so much has changed in my years of incarceration.” He chuckled through the tension, hoping to bring some light heartedness to it all. “I’d sooner be dead than witness them succeed somewhere in the league.”

[Fishie]

Bernard, having been buddies with Stanley for quite some years now, smiled for he knew exactly where this conversation was going. The monstrous passenger actually knew something of humanity that would ease Stanley's mind for the moment.

"Ha-ha! Seems like our boy, here, actually does know a bit about the human world! I guess you don't need to have always watched a game to know that they'll never come out on top, eh?" Stanley said as he chuckled and pressed his fist on the barrier in front of Josiah; he was waiting for a 'bro-fist.' "OH! Look at that, you can't," he smuggly pointed out as he looked at the chains that restricted Josiah to move freely.

"So, did you have a favorite team?" Bernard genuinly asked out of curiousity and to just keep a conversation moving.

Stanley rolled his eyes and chuckled before he chimed in, "Yeah, the Dinosaurs versus the Cavemen."

Bernard silently chuckled and actually defended Josiah, "What are you even making age jokes for? There's not that much difference between all of us, ya' know?"

"Yeah, but I am the youngest."

"...BY THREE YEARS!" The amused and confused Bernard had a hard time looking at the road as they drove past small shops a few miles from the prison and were headed for the city.

"And don't you forget it!"

"What ever you say, Baby Stanley." Bernard complied using his baby voice. He quickly turned to look the shocked and frusturated baby face and pinched his cheek with one hand still driving.

"DON'T MAKE ME SHOOT YOU," Stanley gave an empty threat while making a gun with his hand. They were always empty threats when it came to his best buddy.

"Shall I put my hands behind my head as well, officer?"

Stanley gave him an over acted once over, "Nah. You good. You good, man."

"So, any team?" Bernard asked again after he recovered from laughing at his partner's over acting.

[Skitzo-phrenick]

Josiah blinked a few times in response first. He half expected the dark-skinned marshal to forget he even asked him a question in the first place. It was a meaningless thing to ask anyway, so really he would have taken no offense otherwise. Actually considering the situation, he was rather stunned that they had listened to him at all.

Only moments earlier they seemed more than invested in ignoring him altogether, but maybe the lead into ‘Stan the Man’s’ background had caused them to think otherwise. Whatever it was he was grateful for it.

“Hey! You dead back there?”

Josiah jumped slightly at the voice, looking to the two men instantly to see them both watching him rather closely. Stanley was staring at him blatantly now while Bernie constantly shifted his eyes between the rearview mirror and the road they were traveling. Both men seemed on alert at his silence, which was natural.

“Not dead,” the doctor spoke smoothly, “To be honest, I hadn’t expected to be asked a question, so I’m trying to think of an answer.” Apparently this had been the wrong reply because instantly Marshal Stanley’s gaze went from mild curiosity to outright suspicion. Josiah could immediately see how Stanley became a U.S. Marshal at the stare. The once joking and humor-filled eyes he had quickly become accustomed to on the bigger man now seemed guarded like a judging stone. The look alone caused the convicted criminal to squirm.

“You’ve watched a few games before, right? Well enough to make an opinion on the Browns at least, so you’ve probably had more than enough time to pick a favorite team.” Stanley paused to raise a curious eyebrow. “So what’s there to think about?” It was a good question; one which Josiah thankfully had an answer for.

“Well, my taste usually jumps from team to team and game to game, so I’ve never bothered to pick at team before, and I’ve never been asked about it either, so it’s nothing I ever really thought about.”

“No favorite team?! What kind of football fan are you?!” Stanley asked incredulously. Josiah just smiled with amusement before answering.

“The kind of fan who sees no need to ignore the facts of the game and blindly support a failing team.”

“Oh, so you only support the top dogs.”

“Not really. I support the team I believe deserves it the most.” It was at this point that Stanley seemed hesitant, which looked remarkably strange to Josiah. The U.S. Marshal was clearly more a man of action than he was of thought, so one could only wonder what caused him to actually ponder an action. The next statement seemed to clear that all up though.

“How do you choose which team deserves it?”

Josiah couldn’t help to hold back the small chuckle that escaped him at the question. Officers of the law, no matter what breed, always seemed a bit reluctant to dive into the mind of a convicted killer. Lord only knew what Stanley thought his answer would be.

“I mostly go by situational things. Like for instance the 49ers. In terms of players they did very well in their draft, so they have a great amount of talent and skill on their team, yet they are one of the lowest ranked teams this season. Why do you suppose that is?”

“Because they suck,” Stanley answered straightly, a cocky smirk on his face as he spoke.

“Not really. Their head coach is new. Their offensive plays are weak, leaving their quarterback as well as the offensive coach to choose horrible play after horrible one, and the coach is too high on his horse to realize his plays are ridiculous. Also their defense lost two key players in the starting line up within the first few games of the season to injuries. I’m not even going to bother listing how many players are still suffering from serious injuries now.”

“So?”

“So I can’t fault the players for what’s out of their control. Thus they have my support.” There was a silence that followed the answer, and the suspicious look on Stanley’s face changed completely. A mischievous twinkle came to his eyes accompanied by an amused smile as he leaned towards the Plexiglas divider between the two of them. This was another unnerving expression, but only because the man was just intimidating altogether.

“Sounds to me like all you said was a bunch of big, fancy words for ‘they suck’,” was the only reply Josiah received. All he could do was sigh in response.

[Fishie]

Bernard let out a big hearty laugh as they fortunately came to a stop light. He could clearly see his buddy's once again cocky smirk. After he caught his breath and the light changed, he got into father mode, finger wave and all, and started to lecture them both, "Don't be harpin' on them 'Niners or I'll have to give you both a woopin'!"

"OH, NO!" Stanley trembled in overacting fear, which caused both burly men to rawr with laughter.

For what seemed like hours towards what would be a gloomy, unwelcoming city, the men drove on in silence, every now and then making idle chit chat about sports, women or the cars they see passing by in a hurry. It was all cut short by a giant pop followed quickly by black rubber thrown in their direction. Stanley's overacting fear was then legitimate, but not expressed by the thrill seeker officer, who, oddly enough, had a suprised grin.

"HOLY SHI-! OH MY-! WOAH!" was all that Bernard was able to fearfully express as he dodged, while ever time almost swipping the cars beside him, each piece of tire that had been launched towards his and his passengers' head.

"This is lead car! Hey! Are You guys okay back there?! I don't know what happened up here! It just blew out! Let's pull up to the gas station up ahead. Over." The radio screeched from the panicked deputy in the threatening car up ahead.

Stanley, still had adrenaline pumping through him, picked up the receiver, "WOO-HOO! Roger. Middle car is A-O-K! Rear okay? Over."

"Rear here. We're all good. A stretch of the legs sounds nice. Over."

The front car was more calm this time, "Left car, take west exit. Right, take the east. Over."

"Left car. Roger. Over."

"Right car. Rover."

All cars were silent. Bernard and Stanley, face twitching with every muscle, were trying their best not to laugh at their commrade in front of the prisoner.

"Ahem, roger. Over," was the final transmition from the right car and the rest as all five cars as they pulled into the oversized ghost town of a gas station. With the commanded cars taking their ordered positions, the rear car took to the corner exit finally blocking all exits, and with that, each man toddled, some rolled, as they varied in size, out of the car.

As he killed the ignition and unbuckled himself, Bernard turned around in his seat as much as comfort allowed him to view both passengers. "If anyone's hungry or needs to use the bathroom, now would be an ideal time."

Bernard could tell from the look on his chum's face that he was truly thinking about what they could find at a 6-Pix Gas 'n' Go, and when no one else would even dare think twice about eating their food, Stanley did just that.

"Oh, man! They have those hot-dog tacos!" He turned in his seat in excitement to face Bernard, who became a little nauseous at the thought of the concotion, and gave a nod in Josiah's direction. "You don't mind do you?"

Bernard with his eyes closed and a sickly look on his face just shook his head and rose his hands until his buddy, who looked back every now and then with a confused look. How anyone could resist the scrumptious, little, acid-reflex devils, Stanley wondered. He then turned his head to the seemingly harmless passenger and interrogated, "So, how about you? Anythi-?"

TAP, TAP, TAP! One of the officers had suddenly loomed up over Bernard's rolled up window.

"Officer Brown, Sir! There's no one here! Officer Michaels and I checked," Officer Williams spat out in a hurry.

"I'm sorry. Your from which car, again?" Bernard sheepishly begged.

"Car one, Sir. Now-"

"Oh! How's the tire?! Are the rims okay?!"

"...A little scratched, but fine. Sir! Again, no one is here. It doesn't seem like anyone is in town at all!" Office Williams exclaimed this time to the point where he became out of breath and his face turned bright red. He failed to mention how the others would remark on the bodiless breathing.

"Alright, Williams. I'll radio H-Q after our trip to the restroom," Bernard reassured as he motioned and then turned to Josiah to continue, "You do need to go, don't you?"

"But, Sir-!"

"Just wait in your car for now, okay?" He once again reassured without looking away from his passenger. His patience were starting to get tested. "So, bathroom?"

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