Artifact 2: Josh and the Highway Robber

In this part 2 of Artifact, not all highway robbers are masked bandits.

Artifact 2: Josh and the Highway Robber

 

            The cop had said, “I’ve been lookin’ for you!”

Josh had been jittery earlier, but now this�"Josh’s mind spun. He analyzed the situation. Was this cop the buyer’s competitor? Or the forewarned tail�"already�"this early in his delivery? Should he flee? How long would it take for the cop to get to his car to pursue�"or call ahead? If a tail, would he contact others or is he on his own? Josh swiftly assessed his car. The engine idled quietly, the transmission was in neutral, and his foot rested near but off the accelerator. His jacket lay on top of the cigar box.

The cop leaned in again. “License and registration, son.”

Josh twisted in his seat and reached behind to his wallet pocket. The cop eyed him. As he twisted, Josh slowly slid his foot over to the accelerator. His other leg lifted slightly to hover over the clutch. His right-hand’s fingers slid around the wheel to tickle the paddle shifter.

The cop put both hands on the window frame and gripped as he peered in close, his face mere inches from Josh’s.

“Easy, son. Relax,” the cop whispered, looking at Josh’s stance. “Don’t bolt, I’m on your side. Bear with me, and we’ll be okay here.” He glanced to his squad car. Loudly, he said with a gesture. “C’mon, license and registration.”

Josh couldn’t quite make out the situation. He pulled his wallet and flicked out his paperwork. The cop flashed his shoulder-mounted light on it.  

“Yep, it’s you,” the cop said, in a low voice. He flicked it back toward Josh between two fingers. “XY3Z told me to keep an eye out for you.” He chuckled. “Not too difficult a task.  You couldn’t actually go unnoticed with this thing. What’s under the hood?”

Josh took his paperwork back. He paused with uncertainty. “A W-10. Competition line.”

“NO way!” The cop exclaimed. “I was a fan of these race cars back in the day. Too bad we lost that sort of fun along the way, eh. Fast?”

Josh still wasn’t totally at ease. “Fast enough.”

“Yeah, I bet I couldn’t catch you in that thing,” the cop said, with a wave to his car.

“Probably not,” Josh said, eyeing the flashing lights behind him that hurt.

“I won’t keep you,” the cop said, backing away. “Your, ah, boss. Described the car, and there’s a few of us lookin’ out for you.” He pointed a gloved finger at Josh. “A little advice: don’t trust anyone�"even other cops. There are some out there to get you as well�"all sorts of characters I’m sure. Don’t know why you’re wanted, it’s none of my business, but be on your toes. That was what I was s’posed to tell you here early on in your�"whatever you’re doin’ out here.”

“Thanks for the warning, sir,” Josh said. He looked forward and back to the cop. “Am I free to go?”

“Yep, be on your way,” the cop grinned wide. “Wish you could show me what this baby will do, but I can’t condone that with the camera back there�"not to mention attracting more attention. Good luck.” He stepped back and gestured. “Be careful, and trust no one.”  

“Thank you, sir; I’ll be careful.” Josh depressed the clutch, flicked the transmission in gear, and eased off. Without building any revs, he flicked up through the gears even though full aware the SHUSH system couldn’t keep up. The rumbles that emitted were reassuring as the flashing lights dwindled behind him before the headlights turned and went the other direction. 

Josh headed into the darkness, not feeling reassured at all. Hours passed. He rubbed his eyes.

            Snapping him wide awake, a 26-wheeled semi-tractor trailer’s headlights glared at him, and then roared up and past heading east of no consequence. With a thought, Josh zoomed up the map display that highlighted his location. His car was indicated in the center of the screen with the map rotating around as the highway changed directions.  A few scattered cars showed on the map as blips heading west or east bound.

            As the highway widened into four lanes, the speed limit jumped to 100K, and Josh shifted through seventh and eighth. The digital speedometer rested at 105K with the engine loafing along at 2300rpm. The smart tires sang on the road and the wind whistled through the slightly cracked window. To relax, Josh pulled out his antique digital music player, stuck it on the Velcro strip glued to the dash board for that purpose, and turned on a recorded satellite classic station. He could have dialed in a live satellite station, but the two-way contact could locate him if someone had the means and the desire to search for him which Josh assumed they had.

            The station he recorded a few days ago originated in Los Angeles and played a cut from Creed; a good grunge revival, a reminder of his youth. After a couple of other not too exciting tunes, the DJ announced a real ancient tune from the so-called golden era of rock for the strung out drivers and riders on the open road, “Highway Song” by Deep Purple. Josh turned up the volume that was already blasting his ears. He hadn’t heard the tune before, but the rocking tune definitely fit the open road. 

            A long, straight stretch of clear road showed on the map display without traffic from either direction.  Josh eased down on the gas pedal, the digital speedometer flicking up through 120, 140, 160K. He pressed the OD button above the shifter paddle, dropped the gas pedal and pressed it slowly down.  The overdrive unit shifted in with an audible click, and he watched the rpms drop almost a third from 5500 to 3400. Josh adjusted his senses to the higher speed as the IR enhanced landscape sped past his hurtling vehicle in nearly a blur. The digital speedometer eased up over 200. Inventorying his gauges, the engine temperature was a cool 97 degree, turbo boost idled at 15 percent, and oil pressure hung around 55 pounds.  Pretty much normal, Josh comforted himself. White knuckles weren’t what was needed at this speed; it was more of a firm caress on the wheel to feel the car’s feedback.   

            After about two hours, Josh noticed a fuel dispensary coming up on the mapping display. There aren’t many out on the highway anywhere anymore with the few out here catering to the hybrids, semi-trucks, motor-riders, and the rich guys with their restored classic cars that survived the war.  In a few minutes, he flipped off the overdrive and geared down, rolling into the brightly lit dispensary.  Other than the lights, the place looked pretty much deserted, which suited him just fine as he pulled up to the dispenser and turned off the engine. Josh retrieved the roll of cash he had stashed under the seat. He pulled his player off the dash board and stuck it in his pocket with the music still blasting in his ears.

            Josh stepped in front of the pump. The dispenser sensed his approach, and its automated voice told him to insert his credit card into the machine. He selected medium grade at 6.78 dollars a gallon, pay inside option, and started pumping. He worried after his box wondering if he should carry it in when he paid or leave it in the car under his jacket. He decided to leave it considering he was surely being caught on video somewhere around with cams apparently hidden, out of sight. Josh scanned the surroundings to see if anyone was watching or any obvious cams. He spotted one facing his direction on the next roof support, but he didn’t look directly at it and slowly, nonchalantly turned his back to it as he pumped and topped off the tank. Josh put the nozzle back in the holder and strolled to the dispensary office.

He yanked out his earplugs and stuffed them in his pocket. Muted, scratchy muzak oozed from a couple dusty, cobwebby bullhorn speakers stuck on the roof pillars. Stepping up to the door, he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke and saw a trace of blue drifting from around the corner.

A brunette teenaged girl peered out from around the corner and raised her eyebrows at Josh just as he noticed her looking at him. She stepped out. He appreciated her tight, straight-legged jeans tucked into mid-calf high leather boots. Her outfit was topped with a tight black-leather jacket opened up to reveal a black low-cut blouse. She wore some kind of backpack. He paused as she blew out a tight stream of smoke at him. Her eyes were encircled with a black smudge and her lips glowed bright red from glow-in the-dark lipstick. That was the first thing he had noticed about her: red-glowing lips. She stared at Josh as she puckered and pulled hard on another drag from her smoke. She nodded with a slight smile and eased back into the shadow of the building. The stronger acrid smell of tobacco smoke reached his nostrils just as he pulled on the dispensary office’s door handle. The muzak continued louder inside.

            The sudden onslaught of interior bright lights hurt his enhanced eyes for a couple seconds as he stopped and took his bearings inside the small office/store. A fortyish man stood behind the checkout counter, nervously moving items around behind the credit register. Josh caught the guy twitching, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye as he visibly tried to look busy. 

            “Evening,” Josh opened with while stepping up to the counter.

            The man turned to Josh, sized him up and down and murmured something under his breath. “George” was printed on a cloth patch on his greasy work shirt Josh noticed though not really looking at George. Josh took a mental inventory of an array of cameras pointing at the exact place he was standing, along with a mirror in the corner that probably had a cam behind it as well. In a fleeting thought, Josh looked at the floor half-expecting to see painted footprints to indicate where he had to stand to be an instant video star. He was disappointed.

            In the bizarre pregnant silence with muzak playing in the background, Josh nervously looked around from the floor to walls dipping his eyes when he spied each cam though still not directly looking at George.  

“I pumped $106 dollars’ worth of mid-test on number three,” Josh told George with a thumb toss over his shoulder.

            “I saw, b-but ahh, ah, you d-didn’t u-u-use a chip out there?” George stammered.

             “I hit the “pay inside” option on the pump ‘cause I have cash, my credit, er chips are maxed out right now.”

            A squeaking rub on the station’s window broke the rousing conversation/ transaction between these two men, and they both turned to look to see where the sound came from. Edges of two small feminine hands pressed hard against the glass, cupped around an impish face with a nose almost touching the glass. Large wide-open, white-wall eyes surrounded with heavy, dark makeup stared back at them unblinking. The window glass fogged from her breath’s condensation as smoke issued through the teenager’s teeth and lips. As the fog subsided, a faint, thin smile curled up from glowing dark ruby-red colored lips as she pulled away form the window.

            Josh shrugged his shoulders slightly; he unrolled the cash he had counted out before entering the station.

             “Ah, ah sorry the c-c-company don’t take c-cash no more,” George replied eyeing the wad of bills.

             “What do you mean, US cash isn’t any good?” Josh said adamantly. “What kind of company do you have here?”    

            “It’s c-c-company policy, the p-p-pump shouldn’t have worked on p-pay inside, cause it’s not an option anymore.”

            “Oh, come now,” Josh said, still not looking entirely at Georges’ face with one eye looking outside to the direction George strangely favored�"his car, “I can’t be the only person on this highway using cash.”

             George sidled off to Josh’s right looking out the front window at his car. Josh thought the girl maybe attracted George’s attention like she did his, but no�". 

“Interesting car you got there, mister.” George said, turning back to Josh.

            Josh realized his error in what drew George’s attention and probably why. “Never mind the car�"listen here…hmmm, George, I have somewhere to be, can’t you cover my cash with your own company chip?” 

             “Well,” George said, stroking his stubbly chin, “How about we make a deal“?

From their interaction so far, and George’s nervous disposition, Josh expected something like this, “What do you have in mind here�"GEORGE?” He said it noticeably irritated with an edge. George didn’t seem to notice.

            “I can do fifty cents on a dollar.”

Josh couldn’t believe this guy had the audacity.  Josh was irritated enough to bluff and gripped a fist. “How about I just get on my fone to call the patrol and ask them to check out your racket here?”

George suddenly whipped back into reality and became a little more forceful and clearer speaking.       

             “Well…well, mister how about I call them and inform them about your interesting car out there?”

Now with the tables spun around, Josh got nervous. “Okay, okay, seventy-five cents on a dollar, or I leave, taking my chances and you get nothing”

George slid a box of candy bars aside and hit a calculator built into the counter top, “That’ll be a hundred and thirty-three dollars,” George said, apparently relieved and more assured, as Josh counted out the additional amount and laid it on the counter. George unashamedly eyed the roll of cash Josh put back into his pocket. 

            “Nice doing business with you,” George said, as he scooped up the cash and started counting it out. Again, the squeaking noise drew their attention, and they both turned to the outside glass. Josh saw the girl’s lips mouthing words.  He shrugged while mouthing. What? Not a lip reader. She pointed over George’s head.

Josh looked up to an old, smudgy mirrored Coke sign hung there. He saw in the reflection that George had partially pulled out a box from under the register and upon opening it, put Josh’s cash inside. The box was already nearly full of cash!  Josh decided then and there he wasn’t going to stand for it.

            “Hey, never deal in cash, eh,” Josh exclaimed and slammed his palms down on the counter causing the items on the counter to hop. George’s eyes sprang open wide.

Josh thrust out his open hand toward George like he was about to grab him. “You have some kind of side-of-the-highway robbery racket going here?  How about I come over this counter and throttle you a bit, huh, for trying to take me for a ride?”