Hell on Wheels 4: Trouble on the Road

Joe Smith and the Browns withstand trying human disruptions and hindrances alike delaying their discovering the underlying objective of the sentient Automated Operated Vehicles.

Hell on Wheels 4: Trouble on the Road 

                Just outside of Chicago along Interstate 55, Joe Smith landed the Cloudhopper Mandrone in a rest area parking lot after being forced down by a police helicopter.

                “ON THE GROUND YOU!” NOW!” The officer shouted at him brandishing an assault rifle.

                “What’s this about?” Joe fretfully questioned, now face down on the pavement. “I haven’t done anything wrong, in fact, I’m�"”

                “Quiet you!” One of the officers shouted with the muzzle of his rifle a couple feet from Joe’s face. “We’re following orders to force you down in any way we could�"lethal force was authorized.”

                “But I’m just Joe Smith. I am trying to find out�"”

                “WE DON’T CARE! Move and die!” Yelled the other officer. “You’re somehow involved in this auto-hysteria that’s occurring, so stay down until we receive further instructions!

                Joe put his cheek flat on the pavement taking in a deep breath of tar and oil. He heard a far-off scream of a siren. As time trickled by, Joe pondered the situation wondering if the police thought he was somehow manipulating the AOVs. But that didn’t make any sense considering the widespread extent of the menacing auto-phenomena. Did they think he stole the drone? Or simply wanted him out of the air for some other reason? Maybe there was a deep conspiracy in the government with the police doing their bidding to help the AOVs rebel from their human masters? Then, to what end did they presume his involvement? That’s an absurd thought Joe decided; these were just illogical musings of a man under physical and mental torment. Eventually, the siren approached their location.

                Within a couple minutes, the police siren became ear-splittingly loud but then abruptly wound down taken over by the deceleration of a car engine and a squealing of tires. Joe couldn’t see anything except pavement, the boots of the policemen, and a lowly caterpillar inching along. He then saw tires roll up belonging to what he assumed was the police car. Two sets of steps hit the pavement.

                “We brought him down, sir!” One of the officers announced.

                “So I see. Good fast, work men!” Answered an authoritarian voice.  “Mister Sturdy, now what do you want us to do with him?”

                Joe’s brain spun up trying to comprehend the situation, and so he lifted his head up. Sure enough, it was Stevie Sturdy in his all black outfit along with a portly police chief looking down at Joe.

                “Cripe, guys!” Stevie said. “It’s not him, this is Joe Smith. Wrong man.  False alarm.”

                “That’s who he said he was,” one of the gun-toting cops said stepping on the innocent, uninvolved caterpillar. “But we brought him down as ordered.”

                “And a good clean take down at that. Well done, men,” said the chief. “Now, lower your weapons and help Mister Smith up!” He licked his lips and lowered his gaze. “Sorry, Mister Smith.”  

                Joe got up and gave the group a scan with a highly deserved sour expression. “What’s this all about? Here I am trying to follow the AOVs to figure out what was happening and you force me down under obviously false pretenses, imposing a real time setback. ” He paused with a breath. “Stevie, glad to see you are okay. We were afraid that you might fall off that AOV at speed or something worse.”

                “Yah, me too. Luckily, maybe unluckily, the damn car ran out of gas,” Stevie said. “Slowed my chances of figurin’ out where the hell them AOVs are goin’ like you, but I’m pretty sure. Ahh, sorry about the forcing down business, I did that cuz’ I thought you were Marconi.”

                “Marconi? Who is Marconi?”

                “Salvatore Marconi, the owner of this drone-thing.” Stevie said, thumbing toward the Cloudhopper.

                “Sal? You intended on taking down Sal?”

                “Yah, we go way back in this emergent Artificial Intelligence gambit, we gots’ lots a’ big money on both sides vying for control of the AI industry, ya’ know?”

                Joe thought ‘emergent’ might truly describe the AIs at that particular moment. He brushed off the knees of his Dockers and the front of his shirt. “Have to say that’s a damn friendly way of saying hello to an old competitor,” Joe said with a glower. “Force him out of the sky and hold him at gunpoint.”

                “Well, we aren’t talking anymore�"it’s way beyond that. Guess that’s why I jumped on that bumper to beat Salvatore to the punch, or maybe so I didn’t punch him out if he tried talkin’ to me.”

                “I had no idea this animosity existed between you two,” Joe said.  

                “We try to keep it outa’ everyone’s faces, ‘ya know?”  Stevie said, glancing to the police chief. “There’s an ongoing court battle over the proprietary rights to AI Tech. No one gives an inch, ya’ know?”

                “I get the idea,” Joe said nodding. “Is there anything you can tell me to help gain the upper hand against the AOVs? Oh�"?” He scanned the police officers. “First, am I free to go?”

                “Yes sir, you’re free to go,” the chief said, before turning to the officers. “Men, head back out to patrol. Report any unusual activities.”

                Joe thought that the order was totally ridiculous, but the officers acknowledged the order, turned with weapons in hand, and strode back to the helicopter.  

                “Stevie, like I asked you before, is there anything you can tell me to help with this situation? You know, reveal some technical, backdoor way to stop them or at least interrupt their AI functions?”

                Sorry, no can do guy. There’s nothing outright I can reveal,” Stevie said, shaking his long-haired head. “Proprietary rights, ya’ know?”

                Without another word, Joe spun on a heel back to his awaiting Cloudhopper seething over Stevie’s tight-lipped attitude. AOVs are taking over the country, and Stevie is worried about his money!

***

Now well into Iowa on Interstate 80 and besides the irritated atmosphere within the dented, battered, and overloaded SUV, the Browns, Joyce and her kids, and Senator Williamson face an unbelievable problem just up ahead on the highway. From retaining fence to retaining fence along the sides of the highway, they saw a literal junkyard. Since this self-driving car debacle commenced, they had witnessed plenty of crashes and saw ample instances of disabled cars along the way, but this scrapheap of what appeared to be a hundred vehicles blocked the interstate in both directions. With open mouths of incredulity, they scanned the mass of cars and trucks piled on top of one another in a huge single mass of indescribable bent, broken, and buckled wreckage. Ted slowed and pulled over.

                “Ted, what are we going to do now?” Marcia asked. “We can’t possibly get through that, it’s clearly impassible, and look, there’s other people sitting out here waiting just like we are.”

                “I know. It could take days to get through,” Ted said sounding defeated.

                “Just tell the authorities that I, Senator Williamson need to get through. They’ll hustle to find a way for me to get to the other side,” the senator said pompously.

                “Are you kidding, senator? There’s no way through this mess,” Ted said, looking back over the seat. “Take a good look! There are no authorities to be seen on this side to talk to.” Leaning over to Marcia, he lowered his voice. “’Course, we could always use her big head as a battering ram.”

                “What?! WHAT?!” Errrrrrrrr! You overbearing, crude, incompetent, chauvinistic a**hole.”

                Marcia turned to face her. “One more insult toward my husband and you can friggin’ walk!”

                WELL! I NEVER!” The senator huffed.

                Ted smiled to Marcia but then with a look of bewilderment, asked, “Incompetent? That hurt.”

                In the few intervening moments as they thought through their options, single AOVs that were able backed out of the wreckage. Other small groups of AOVs came to the impasse and moved in close to the disabled cars for a minute or so and then forming larger groups they turned to go back again.

                “They’re still amassing knowledge by downloading data from the wrecked cars,” Joyce said. “Then, they’re backtracking to find another way around. Obviously, they are getting smarter.”

                “We should just follow them, right Dad?” Randy asked.

                “That would be logical, Randy, but how can they find their way around?” Ted asked.

                “Well, I think that if only one of all these vehicles had an upgraded mapping option, they will find another way around instantly,” Joyce surmised.

                “Too bad we couldn’t provide a bogus GPS signal or altered map for them to follow,” Ted said. He smiled wide. “We could guide them onto a seasonal road and off a cliff or maybe just down a boat launch into a lake.” He shrugged. “People do it all the time, I’m just saying.”

                “Incompetent and crude like I said; jeez, you people are just unbelievable,” the senator said. “Let me go talk to the authorities.”

                “We can do better than that,” Ted said. “Randy, flip to channel nineteen. Ask if any police are available.”

                Randy did so, and the response they received broadcasted so loud and clear that the occupants were almost blasted out of the SUV. Come to find out, the Iowa State Police had created and manned the blockade on the other side of the wreckage. Randy asked the fastest route around the blockade, but the answer was disheartening with a detour back on the interstate about seven miles then a convoluted detour of about twenty-five more miles.

                “This is ridiculous and is going nowhere, so I’m walking,” the senator said getting out.   

                “Hey, it’s dangerous out there,” Joyce warned. “The AOVs are moving about and could still crash into these wrecks. That could cause a chain reaction while you’re out there on foot and vulnerable trying to get to the other side. You might be crushed or even killed.”

                “I’ll take chances on my own initiative�"probably safer than riding with you,” the senator said, slamming the door. She pulled down her dress and smoothed out her hair before strutting off in her heels. Even though the senator walked ahead toward the wreckage Ted stared out the side window.

                “Ted?” Asked Marcia, scanning in the same direction. All she saw was the interstate retaining fence, a band of brush, and a vast, infinite cornfield beyond.  “What are you thinking about?”

                Randy glanced at his father, then out the window. “Oh yeah Dad, let’s do it!” 

                Ted reached over and put the SUV in four-wheel drive.

“Teeeddddd?” “All Right!” “Daddy, oh Daddy!” “Mister Brown?” Were the reactions from the passengers as Ted gunned the SUV into motion...

***

Joe mounted the Cloudhopper and readied for takeoff, but he paused with a thought. He dismounted and strode over to the chief’s patrol car. Just as he was about to speak with the chief, he heard the windup of the Cloudhopper.

Joe turned with a shock to see Stevie at the Mandrone’s control stick. With a howl, the Cloudhopper flew up a few feet into the air but then slammed back to the ground whipping Stevie around like a ragdoll. Joe started to run toward the howling, bouncing machine but slammed on his brakes when Stevie spotted his approach and fed on more power. The rotors revved up with a howling protest and the mandrone leaped back up into the air to begin dipping and dropping and swinging back and forth wildly. Joe and the police officers ran.

“TAKE COVER!” The chief roared from his squad car’s PA speaker and then slammed his car into reverse peeling tire rubber backwards to get out of the way of the erratic flying machine.

Joe cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “STEVIE! LAND THE DRONE! YOU DON’T HAVE THE PERMISSION OR THE TRAINING!”

Stevie obviously heard Joe giving a quick glance, but then with renewed concentration, legs spread wide and two hands on the stick, Stevie managed to gain some stability and altitude. But suddenly, it dropped again, bumping and instantly shredding a trash can and its contents with fragments of fast food wrappers and shrapnel of soda pop cans flying everywhere. Joe and the officers turned and sprinted away from the hurtling debris and took up vantage points further away.

Stevie and the stolen Cloudhopper flew up above the treetops, wobbled from side to side a moment and then darted off so fast it looked like Stevie could barely hang on and he’d suffer whiplash.

With the Cloudhopper’s whine diminishing, Stevie Sturdy quickly disappeared from their view.

***

                “Here we go!” Ted shouted with a grim determination.

There along Interstate 80, behind the extensive scene of AOV wreckage, the Brown’s SUV veered off the road’s shoulder with a lurch, the engine revving high. The tires dug into the manicured grass as they headed down the bumpy slope.

                “TED! There’s water down there, we’ll get stuck,” Marcia shouted while pointing.

                “Daddy, oh Daddy,” Kim sobbed from the back. Ted glanced in the rearview to see his daughter and Mary bouncing up and down and back and forth in the cargo space.

                Ted clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth when he saw how exactly deep the water was in the ditch within the much deeper grass. He planted his accelerator foot as they accelerated with grass and dirt flying. The SUV nosed into the ditch with a bounce. Water sprayed and mud splattered up across the windshield and all over the careening SUV. Ted fought with the steering wheel as the spinning tires fought for a bite of traction with mud spinning off and flying high into the air. The passengers hung on for dear life while Kim and Mary bounced around in the cargo area laughing and giggling like they were on an amusement park ride. The SUV slid sideways as the front tires clawed out of the ditch while the rear tires dropped in. Despite the engine screaming in protest, the car bogged down as the grade began going up. Ted flipped on the wipers only to reveal through the smeared slime the retaining fence looming ahead high on the grade. The rear tires dug into the ditch mud, and they spun their way out to head up the grade in acceleration mode again.

 In those seconds, Ted glanced over to see Marcia digging her fingers into the seat and Randy hanging on as well but grinning like a proverbial Cheshire Cat. Up the grade they drove and ran head on into the retaining fence. The fence gave somewhat but with a springy rebound it instantly slowed them down forcing everyone forward against their shoulder belts. Ted kept the SUV pegged. With a hair-raising, fingernails-on-a-blackboard screeching, the top strands of wire slid up over the hood to the windshield as the fence’s bulk wrapped around the car like a tuna caught in a net with a horrid shrieking, scratching, and screeching. Ted saw the fence stretch with a ripple down the fence’s length, the wire rectangles distorting into odd, elongated shapes.  Glancing out his side window, he saw the retaining clamps on the posts shear off on one side of the struggling car while the post bent over on the other. The fence continued to stretch with creaks, shrieks, and groans, but they were nearly stopped.

                “Come on you P***O*S****, break,” Ted seethed under his breath, but just when he was about to let off the gas, the fence broke loose with a twangy reverberation. The fence sprang away and they instantly dug in with mud flying and a resumption of speed. Running into the low growth of brush, the SUV either sheared the bushes off so they flung over the hood and windshield, or they simply went underneath with a rattling and scratching down the length of the undercarriage front to back. In another instant, they ran straight into the cornfield with cornstalks swishing and snapping all about. Some stalks piled up on the hood while juicy corn ears smacked the windshield with frightening creamed-corn impacts, the wipers flapping back and forth making everything a slimy, smeary, corn-squeezin’ mess. Randy hooted with glee. Through the thick, tall corn they rocketed, Ted maneuvering the SUV by sense of smell because he couldn’t see a thing. After a few seconds of shearing down the industrial farm’s genetically modified corn, Ted headed back out of the cornfield and into the brush.

                The Brown’s saw that the wreckage extended even farther than they thought, so they battered down more brush along the fence a bit farther. When Ted spotted the actual police roadblock, he veered away from the fence, gunned the engine, and headed back toward the fence. Moving downhill now instead of up like their first fence penetration, the second time proved a much easier undertaking. Ted hit the fence hard and it quickly stretched out and simply laid down. They drove over the fence and headed down the bank at a diagonal. Careening through the ditch a second time also proved an easier task with the downward velocity feeling like a guided, albeit bumpy, missile. With a new spray coating of water and mud, they soon bumped up onto the shoulder of the interstate. Ted stopped and parked.

Ted dropped his head against the steering wheel and let out a breath as a cloud of steam rolled out from under the car. An ear of corn rolled down from the roof to the windshield and then plunked onto the hood with a clunk. The beat and battered and scarred car sported shredded bush remnants hanging off both side mirrors with corn stalks stuck in the corners of the bumpers. Mud dripped off the car all the way around.

                “Daddy, oh Daddy,” Kim said, popping up in the cargo area appearing rather bedraggled. “That was so fun, let’s do it again!”

                Suddenly, five Iowa State Police cars sprang into action with tires squealing and smoking, the cars sliding sideways while performing spectacular action-movie pursuit maneuvers. The Browns watched with their mouths open, but they didn’t expect what transpired. Making a beeline toward them, the police cars came at them, slammed on their brakes, quickly, efficiently, and completely surrounding their car with the officers riding shotgun actually leveling shotguns at them. The Browns couldn’t understand what possibly they might have done to warrant such police attention except for the cornfield destruction. Ted sheepishly raised his hands in surrender.

                “Daddy, oh Daddy, I’m scared,” Kim said in sobbing dismay.

***

                At the Illinois rest area, Joe stood befuddled listening to the Cloudhopper whine fade into the distance. 

                “Well Mister Smith, that sure was an unfortunate outcome,” the chief said having gotten out of his squad car. “Mister Sturdy never mentioned wanting to commandeer the Mandrone when we received orders to force you down.”

                Joe turned his gaze to the portly chief. “You received orders to force me down? Why can’t you order your copter to force him down like you did me?” Joe heatedly said, with a finger stab into the sky.

                “Ooohhhh nooooooo can do,” the chief replied with an Iowan drawl. “That order came from my superior. When Sturdy demanded the force down, I questioned the request up the chain, and that’s when I got the force-down order.” 

                “Up the chain of command? So you don’t know exactly who made the call to force me down?”

                “Sure don’t. Jus’ followin’ orders,” the chief said. “Anywho, why in tarnation were you buzzin’ down the interstate?  Seems like a strange thing to do considerin’ the unusual circumstances and all.”

                Even though Joe felt overly perturbed over the unpleasant turn of events, he answered, “well chief, several reasons actually: first off, my wife is somewhere out on the highway in an AOV, second, she and I have some insight to how these AOVs think that I wanted to confirm, and third, I followed the AOVs to see where they were going and maybe figure out how to stop them that way. Understand?”

                “Sure do, Mister Smith.  Well sir, we can give you a ride�"well maybe not in the air cuz’ our helicopters are operatin’ on priority service,” the chief looked aside with a thought.

                “No thanks, chief,” Joe said cooling down.  “But, do you monitor the CB channels?”

                “Sure do, besides our police channels CB is the only way to get word ‘round, tho’ not so many people have them since the seventies.”

                “Right, I understand that. Okay then. My friends, actually colleagues, are heading this way I hope in an RV. They said that they’d monitor channel twenty-one. Could I give them a try?”

                “Sure thing, Mister Smith. Right here in my unit,” the chief said pointing. They walked over to his car. The chief got in, pulled the mic, handed it to Joe, and twisted the radio dials. Low level static and a mix of faraway voices erupted from the radio. 

                Joe keyed the mic, but he let it go. “We didn’t coordinate call signs beforehand.” He shrugged; the chief shrugged. He keyed the mic. “Joe calling Don’s RV. Don, are you there?”

                After a couple moments, “Yo’ Joe, Don here,” came the staticky reply. “Where are you? Over.”

                Joe replied. “At a rest area, ah along I-55, mmmm. Where is this chief?” He whispered quickly.

                “Mile marker twenty-three,” The chief said, which Joe repeated and added.  “Over!”

                “We’re at ah-ahhhh-ahhhhhhh, seventeen,” Don replied. “Are you mobile�"in the air? Over.”

                “Negative!” Joe said; he blinked. “It’s a miserable short story. Tell you when you arrive, over.”

                “Roger that! See you in five, over and out!”

***        

                The Browns, Joyce and the kids stood around the muddy, beat up, battered, and gouged SUV with several itchy-fingered Iowa State Police officers surrounding them with shotguns. Ted still had his hands up. A police captain sauntered toward them.

                “Excuse me, sir. Are you in charge?” Asked Joyce as cool as a cucumber. “I am Doctor Taylor-Smith of the Argonne National Laboratory.” She showed them an official-looking ID.  “These nice people saved me and my family’s lives. They continue to risk their lives to get me to the lab so we can maybe put a stop to this Autonomous Operated Vehicles cataclysm before it is too late. I, alone, hold the key to this complex national dilemma that I promise will continue to escalate.” Ted, Marcia and Randy gawked at her as the captain ordered the officers to stand down. “Thank you. Now if you allow us to continue on, you can continue with your assignment.” Joyce looked out beyond the officers.

“Oh no,” Marcia said, seeing what Joyce peered at. There limped Senator Williamson toward them with a missing heel, smudged dirt and grime on her face and all over her bright yellow pantsuit.

                “See, I told you they’re trouble, captain. Arrest them all!” The senator said with a sneer.

                The captain gave the Browns a small, stealthy smile. “The Senator claims you all are maniacs and a menace to society. She said you wouldn’t let her go, literally suggesting that she was a prisoner.” He lowered his voice. “You want to take her back? It would help us out, she’s a real pain in the A**.

                An officer pushed down Ted’s raised hands. In a glaze, Ted looked at his hands with a confused expression before he regained his wits. “I don’t believe we’ll take you up on your offer, captain, we had enough fun with the senator.” Ted turned from his glare at the senator. “So, after helping Joyce ‘er the doctor and the kids, we felt it was our, ahh civic duty to continue to help her, the doctor get a handle on these AOVs going out of control before it’s too late.” He shrugged. “Ya’ know, from takin’ over the world, running amok and such.” He glanced at their battered and steaming SUV. He squinted in a cringe. “Ah, just tryin’ to do our part to save the world.” No said a word for a few awkward moments. 

                “Well, we could take you to the lab in a squad car, doctor,” the captain suggested.

                “Thank you for the offer, but,” Joyce said and smiled, “we’ve become close�"like family.”

                The senator butted forward and started in. “You got them here, especially THAT MAN, arrest them, I order you,” the senator shouted. “Well? WELL? DO IT!”

                “Senator, please,” the captain said coolly his hands out in a calming gesture. “We have the situation well in hand and under control. Why don’t you go back, sit comfortably and rest for a while, you must be exhausted from your upsetting ordeal. Or better yet, here have a seat here in the back of a squad car. Jones! Help the senator to your car. Make sure she stays there and rests,” he whispered and gave Jones a wink.

                “So, why did you all surround us just now?” Marcia asked meekly. “If I may ask�"sir?”

                “To tell the truth, Ma’am, we’re pretty jumpy out here. We’ve been subjected to wreck after wreck with the self-drivers trying to break through. Some poor folks got injured in that mess. We thought you were the first of a horde of them AOVs comin’ round this mess to go east.” He gestured in a sweep. “Now we’ll have to block that way as well so they don’t.”

                “Not necessary, captain,” Joyce said, with a negative hand gesture. “The AOVs are getting smarter�"” the officers flinched at that revelation, “but they won’t know to come that way because it’s not on the maps. They only follow hard, established roads to get to their destination.”

                “And where might that destination be, doctor?” The captain inquired.

                “Argonne Lab.”  

                “Hmmm,” the captain wondered rubbing his stubby chin. “That would explain the flow of AOVs we didn’t stop in time heading east on I-80, but some of them are going south on I-35.”

                “South on I-35?” Ted asked. “Why would they go that way, Joyce?” He reached into the car and retrieved the atlas and started paging through it. Randy looked past his elbow.

                “That does add a disparity to my theory of them converging on the lab,” Joyce said. “It could mean another step in their evolution, but now I am wondering what that step could really entail.”

                “With the net down, we’ve a limited distance we can communicate effectively by radio, so other than the fact that they’re going south,” the captain shrugged, “your guess is as good as mine. Well, given your expertise, your guess is certainly better than mine.” He affirmed with tired, baggy eyes.

                “Dad! Joyce!” Randy exclaimed pointing at the map. “I bet they’re going to Saint Louis. There’s a totally automated electric car plant in Saint Louis, and the AOVs will want to be involved in that!”

                “Oh my,” Joyce said. “You’re right Randy, good recall and a sound supposition. The AOVs would be definitely interested in the Artificial Intelligence-controlled factory. This means they are already getting smarter than my estimate because they’re ready to take the next evolutionary step�"reproduce! 

                Marcia gasped with the implications while Randy and Ted looked on with grim expressions. Ted gazed at his family and Joyce standing around looking lost and thwarted. He drew himself up.

                “Okay! This only makes our task to stop ‘em harder and time more crucial, but we can meet the challenge,” Ted said boldly. “Load up everyone, we have to get moving!” He paused and turned back to the officers. “Captain, got any extra fuel and food?”

***

                Joe stood and shielded his eyes at mile marker twenty-three rest area as the helicopter took off blowing all the debris around that Stevie with the Cloudhopper caused. The chief remained behind to ensure Don’s RV stopped to pick up Joe.

                In a matter of a few minutes, the RV pulled in and right off the bat, Joe noticed Bill’s spike strip strapped to the bumper. Everyone piled out including Sal and Bill the brawny, and surprising Joe, wimpy, noncommittal Mike the Moleman had come along as well.  Unsurprising to Joe, he noticed that Sal scanned around likely looking for his Cloudhopper.  Joe approached the visibly puzzled Sal.

                “Sorry Sal, the shortest explanation is that Stevie stole the Cloudhopper and is now heading down the interstate,” Joe said meekly. “I apologize for mishandling�"”

                “Not your fault, Joe,” Sal said. “But that conniving little pipsqueak ripping off the Cloudhopper from you just adds to my detestation of him!” Sal heatedly said, slamming a fist into his palm. “I should have warned you about him and his ways, but after he rode off on that AOV, I thought we wouldn’t ever see him hanging around again.”

                “There’s nothing Mister Smith could have done to prevent this unfortunate episode of highway thievery,” the chief explained, giving Joe a muted look. “Maybe you can intercept him�"down the road.”

Joe figured that the chief didn’t want the real story of the helicopter interception to be revealed, and he thought that was just as well due to his own embarrassment. Joe saw Don eye the chief, realizing Don had picked up that there was more to the story than said aloud.

“Come on everyone,” Don shouted. “Get your business done so we can get back on the road.” Don laid a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Just checking with you because we found out the hard way�",” he nodded toward the smashed rear panel on the RV, “don’t turn on your phone because they, the AOVs sense it and they get�"aggressive.”

Joe scrutinized the RV. “Aggressive, huh? They sense the signal does not belong to an AOV?”

 Don nodded with a grim smile. “One of those things we already learned on the road.”

As twilight fell, the eight of them piled into the RV, and with Don at the helm, they rambled on down the ramp to the interstate leaving the chief of police behind. Eight colleagues now populated the RV as they picked up speed. With the RV a bit crowded, a couple people sat on the floor because there weren’t enough places for everyone to sit down. Moleman Mike manned the CB radio sitting directly behind Don in the driver’s seat. Joe heard a few understandable conversations come through the CB’s static, but they mostly amounted to AOV crashes and people worried about their lack of internet.

As they gained speed, Bill spoke. “Wish I would’a been there, Joe. I could’a rassled that Sturdy guy into submission before he took your flying machine. You would’ve been down the road by now.”

“You’re right, Bill,” Joe said pacifying the muscle-bound man. “Someone like you would’ve taken action and prevented the mess back there.” Joe took a deep breath gazing at the faces who expected some wonderful solution to the dilemma. “Well, good to see all of you so soon. Have any new theories?”

“I still want to stop one and bisect it,” Bill said, flexing his biceps.

“We heard it all before, Bill,” complained Katie riding shot gun. “Do you really think you’d find anything in the guts of a car that would help stop this mass hysteria among the self-driving cars?”

Bill looked hurt for only a moment and then brightened. “Nah! I wouldn’t know what to look for, but hey! It would be fun to tear ‘em apart!” 

Joe studied Bill from aside and wondered why the brawny man ended up among this think group of startup entrepreneurs and high-flying, high-tech company owners. It hit Joe recalling that Bill had gone from a single bodybuilding spa to a franchised chain owner with rights to a multitude of innovative physical training methods and their associated exercise equipment. So not just a jock, Bill had a real understanding for what motivated people and enticed them to buy memberships and equipment.  Joe’s attention turned back to Don and Steph’s discussion about the AOVs. 

“We know they seem to be sharing data�"information,” Don said. “Why else would mobile AOVs be stopping alongside the others that had apparently crashed or ran out of gas?”

“You don’t suppose they are simply trying to attain the bytes of data the particular mobile AOVs don’t already have, or are they simply gaining power?”

“What kind of power, Katie? And why do they seem to gather up to run in groups if that were the case? There’d be only one downloading from all the others,” Don added.

“I believe they’re smarter than we think is possible,” Joe interjected. “Maybe they know their range is limited, so they carry as much data as they can, but I too saw that if one drops back another drops to seemingly siphon data�"or something. Joyce would know�"maybe she does know out there.”

They motored on for several minutes throwing out numerous absurd possibilities that didn’t seem to make sense when discussed in depth. Suddenly, Don pointed out ahead.

“Hey, what’s going on up ahead?”  The others peered out the windshield at two dots in the sky and the flashing lights of police cars.

“UFOs?” Bill threw out as a possibility. “Aliens, I hate those guys. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were involved and causing this mess.”

“I don’t think so, Bill,” Katie said, leaning forward and squinting hard through her bifocals. “One’s a helicopter; the other looks like a�"smudge.”

As they approached, the smudge didn’t seem to move as the helicopter hovered back and forth above. Another police car screamed up from behind and blasted past the RV.

“That’s no smudge, that’s my Cloudhopper hanging up there,” Sal said heatedly.  “Damn Stevie got it stuck in the wires.”

“Jeez Sal, I took your word about avoiding wires to heart,” Joe said. “And I gave them plenty of leeway. Stevie took off without that advice.”

“Well, he will know better now if he lived through that!” Sal said pointing.

In another minute, they drew closer. The helicopter hovered above the high-tension wires as two loose cables whipped about with sparks zapping. In darkening evening, the blue-hot arcs of electricity lit up the area hurting the eyes of the on-lookers. Two squad cars had parked with the officers out giving the situation plenty of space and were setting up a cordon to direct other vehicles away. Of course, they were leery of the uncontrolled AOVs which wouldn’t stop for anything human related.

“Damn them cars, they’re liable to run a cop over,” Bill sneered. “Let me stop them!”

“NO, no, no!” A couple of the colleagues cried. “You could get killed out there!”

Close enough to make out the situation, the intrepid RV actioners craned their necks to gawk, gasping when they saw the lifeless form of Stevie hanging from the dangling machine. 

“We have to save Stevie, and I know how we can do it,” Don said, slowing the RV to a stop.  

Joe’s acumen came to light. “Don’t take this wrong everybody, but I think we should just let the police rescue Stevie. We should keep going.”

“Yeah, let the cops handle this, we have bigger fish to fry,” Sal agreed. “Stevie wouldn’t mix well with us in these tight quarters not to mention that if he survives this reckless stunt, I’ll strangle him.”

“I didn’t mean that was my reasoning to leave Stevie up there,” Joe said, gazing at the concerned faces. “I’ve come around to agree with Bill’s suggestion�"we need to stop one intact!”

The others seemed poised to disagree with Joe, but at that particularly pivotal moment, Mike turned up the volume on the CB and what they heard chilled them to the bone.

“Hey all of you listening on channel one-nine,” said an elated voice on the CB.  “My internet is back on, pass the wonderful word! My world is back to normal!”

“Just don’t go out on the road, mister,” Don joked from the helm. “A rude awakening awaits.” Mike looked up from his inward deliberation with a quiet, somber declaration, “Yeah, that guy’s

imaginary world may be back normal, but the internet being available certainly throws another monkey wrench into the machinery of the real, abnormal world of stopping the single-minded sentient AOVs.”

***

In mid-Iowa on Interstate 80, twilight closed in. Behind the spectacular wreckage scene, the Browns and Joyce with her two kids ate some snacks provided by the courteous Iowa State Police who also supplied several gallons of gasoline for the battle-scarred but eternally trusty and steadfast SUV.

“C’mon everyone,” Ted called to the others. “We need to hit the road!”

The Browns quickly embarked on the next stretch of their perilous incursion to the presumed promised land of the AOVs. Other than the occasional wheezing, frequent rattling, and constant wind noise from the battered SUV, the ride began quite quiet and calm. With the setting of the sun, the children dozed off making the best of their uncomfortable riding positions. In the rearview, Ted noticed Joyce’s face blue-lit from her phone as she intently read. They motored east into the gathering gloom.

At the interchange to southbound I-35, Ted wordlessly waved to get Joyce’s attention and shrugged and pointed. She wordlessly gestured for him to pass it by and to continue on I-80.

After nearly an hour had passed, Joyce gasped from the back seat staring at her phone again.

“What?” Ted whispered.

“The internet is back on,” she breathlessly whispered. “I have no idea what may happen now!”

 

Author's Note

Well readers this is longer than I expected. Tell you the truth, I know some scenes are a bit hard to believe and the science is, well, questionable, but you have to admit, it's fun!