~~ — — — — — — — — — ~~ Dusty Gas Stop, Somewhere in Arizona
~~ — — — — — — — — — ~~
We've been driving for hours…hours…the Hauler hums low and quiet as it's camouflaged appearance changes its settings again.
Now we look like a G1 Optimus Prime, gliding through back roads like any Long Haul Trucker from the 70's. Mia and Letty are both asleep in the back, Mia is curled up in one of the leather recliners, Letty is sprawled out across a sofa with a blanket tossed over her and her boots kicked off haphazardly onto the floor where someone will trip over them and break their neck.
Feeling a bit hungry and tired as the adrenaline from today's or maybe it's now yesterday's events finally leaves me, it takes all of Grant Ward's experience and know how to stave off sleep and stay awake while I sit in the driver's seat of the Hauler while Pilot-One does the actual driving.
{Sir, I advise pulling off at the upcoming restop to top off my fuel tank.} Pilot-One says to me.
"Go ahead, Pilot-One I'll fuel you up." I confirm to the Hauler's A.I.
Pilot-One pulls us off at a rundown rest stop that is just shy of the California/Arizona border.
'So aren't quite in Arizona yet afterall.
The place is a little run down, there's no cameras, and only two fuel pumps with 8 nozzles, two for diesel and six for gasoline. A busted vending machine cracked glass and flickering light inside of it, some wannabe Route 66 nostalgia slapped on the windows.
Stretching as I step out of the Hauler, feeling a few places in my back popping.
'Oo, gonna have to start working out…and stretching.' I think idly noticing a thin layer of desert grit on everything that is touched often and a much thicker layer on everything that isn't.
My Supra flashes it's headlights at me and tries to roll out of its bay in the Hauler in order to follow me like a puppy.
"Stay here Supra." I say and it's headlights dim in sadness, 'I think I gave Supra a little too much sentience…not like I tried giving it any mind you it just kind of has it.' I think idly.
I begin fueling up the Hauler eyes drifting over to a used car lot, something about it rings alarm bells in my head and my eyes catch on something.
That's tucked underneath one of those large car shelters with the steel piping frame and the plastic roofs; it's haphazardly/half-covered by a tarp that's more holes than actual tarp.
Partially sun-baked/bleached paint, dry rotted/flat tires, rims half sunk in the ground you can tell that it hasn't moved in years.
It's labeled on a torn piece of cardboard taped to the windshield:
[Nissan Miata - $500 OBO - Runs, needs a battery!]
'That's not a fucking Miata…that's Brian's goddamn Nissan Skyline GT-R!' I shout in my head as I press down the tab to continue pumping fuel and walk over to the car.
Using my shirt I wipe some of the dirt from the hood. Beneath the grime, is midnight purple paint, underneath a bit of tarp, the rims are Nismo rims.
Checking the driver's side door it's unlocked, popping that hood, finding a 2.6L RB26DETT twin-turbo under the hood.
"Holy shit!" I exclaim and head inside the gas station, an old dude is sitting behind the counter, he looks like he's been here since the Nixon administration.
"You selling that Nissan outside?" I ask.
He squints at me. "The Miata?"
I blink. "Yeah…The Miata."
He shrugs. "My son died a few years ago. It's been sitting there for two years now, he sent it home from overseas while he was on deployment…I'll take three fifty if you haul it out yourself today."
I grab out my wallet and offer him the six hundred in one hundred dollar bills I had in my wallet, some for the fuel and the rest for the car.
"Keep the change…if any one asks you never saw me." I say to the old man and he waves me off. He looks defeated, I feel kinda bad for him as I stop at the station's door.
"Hey, old man I'm sorry about your grandson…if it makes you feel any better I'll put that car back to right and drive it around…what was his name?"
"Sean Boswell…" he says to me and it feels like an ice cube has just slid down my back before he nods, there's a bit of a lightness now in his expression as I wave to him.
'Sean should be little more than twelve or thirteen unless he's talking about the Sean I know from Tokyo Drift…father.' I think curiously and
head back outside, a grin spreading across my face like a kid who just found that special toy in the bottom of the cereal box.
It takes me about twenty minutes to get the "Nissan Miata" into the Hauler with some help from Supra.
I have the Skyline lifted up in the air from lifts that rose out of the floor. The thing is completely stripped down to its shell. I even pulled the glass.
Wrench in hand sweat soaking through the back of my shirt…even though the Hauler is air-conditioned, the tech inside of the Hauler's garage bay is fucking great, the lighting having multiple angles from the floor, walls and ceilings means there's rarely anything I struggle to see.
"Gonna need some major body work. The wiring is fine, surprisingly nothing made a nest inside of the poor neglected baby." I mutter and Supra uses its horn to chirp jealously.
Mia and Letty are somewhere up in the living space. I think Mia's in the shower. Letty's probably digging through the armory again…it's a little worrying how much she likes guns.
Looking at the stripped vehicle while wiping my hands on a rag that used to be red and is now black.
I move to pull the engine out.
"Oh hush now Supra you know you're my Pretty little Princess, and this here is gonna be another one of my babies…gonna have a lot of those so get used to having little sisters." I mutter to my Supra.
'I really oughta sanitize whatever part of Supra is giving her a personality…she's starting to remind me a little too much of Herby.'
"Brian, what are you doing back there?!" Mia hollers calling out to me.
"Come look, you won't believe what I found!" I holler back and my mouth drops open at Letty and Mia walking into the garage in towels with wet hair.
"Don't look at us like that, we showered seperately…you didn't miss out on anything." Mia says to me with a teasing but please expression on her face.
"Brian…is that a…?" Letty asks, her jaw dropping just a small amount, then she sees the for sale sign that is still on the glass, "Nissan Miata…pfft, someone sold a Skyline GT-R…" Letty breaks out into laughter and says something in amused exasperation in Spanish that I can't understand but it makes Mia giggle.
~~ — — — — — — — — — — ~~ Somewhere in over the border, Dom, Vince & Jesse, third person pov
~~ — — — — — — — — — — ~~
Vince's car rumbles over uneven dirt roads as they cross deeper into Mexico. The sun's dying out over the hills, casting a burnt-orange glow across the horizon. Dom's riding shotgun, arms crossed, silent. Jesse's in the back, still pale, still haunted. He hasn't said much since Race Wars.
None of them have.
The car smells like dust, blood, and vomit…that last one is all Jesse though. The silence is thick, but not angry…not anymore, now it's just heavy with things that needed to be said but are being left unsaid.
But all three of them are carrying some heavy fucking baggage right now.
"You think they made it somewhere safe yet?" Jesse finally asks, breaking the stillness.
Dom doesn't answer right away. He stares out the window like he's watching ghosts. "Yeah," he mutters eventually. "Brian will keep them safe."
"You really trust Brian…that much?" Vince asks from behind the wheel, his tone carries some attitude but it's not accusing anymore…just curiously resigned.
Dom looks over at him. "I do."
They continue to drive on in silence, no destination in mind, no real plan.
Dom reaches for the map tucked in the glove box, Vince doesn't stop him.
They're still family but not crew…not right now, but Vince looks towards Dom with a hopeful look in his expression, before turning back to the desert road.
~~ — — — — — — — — — — ~~
Jeez, wasn't expecting such a strong response to that question...lmfao, anyways not making Dom gay so y'all can just relax.
Also everyone send all your power stones so this story can hit 1k Power stones within it's first month!