I Forgot I Wrote This About Treev

The dark night thundered with the sounds of Brown Beverly and the squeal of the windows from the hot wind. Treev relaxed in his seat as he steered with his hand on his lap, barely able to see over Beverly’s large hood onto the faintly illuminated road constantly coming at us. 

Treev claimed to know this road well, and knew that if only he kept it to the floor we would have enough strength to plow through any roadblock or obstacle that was intentionally or not set for us. 

We’d managed to trade enough to get our hands on some black market gasoline, because we could no longer afford to buy any prime, and found ourselves riding with a trunk full of explosive milk cartons and ice cream buckets, just waiting for them to blow us back to where ever if the tiniest little spark decided it was our time. 

Traveling in Nebraska in the dark is always a lonely affair. Since it was too loud to talk, and the stereo system had been ripped out by Larry the Leper’s minions to install in his bionic body, I spent my time anxiously looking for any other headlights as our lonely ship cruised through empty space passing small systems of family farms and galaxies of villages and towns. 

This was Sodomite country, so you knew when you saw another auto at night that you were either dealing with a local law dog in heat over out of state plates, or the incomparably dreaded Roving Band.

We did have a backseat full of sin sticks and lighters, but Locey Laws seldom concerned themselves with the prohibition, and we figured if we had to get some paper to pay The Man we’d just fence a few gallons of the black market in the trunk.

But while The Man could be bought off with paper or maybe a few well fed jump-suited weeks, the Roving Band of Sodomites dealt in a terrible market all its horrible own.

 

With our speed maintained at well over a hundred and ten, it was difficult for me to read all the attractions available at the newly constructed Possum Land, a Possum-themed amusement park dedicated to the obviously heroic church leader. The billboard was bright and well lit, and with its ladder rides and salvation prizes, Possum Land looked like it might be a nice place for us to go and relax after we were done with the assassination.

Treev and I locked eyes as we realized we would soon be in Thayer, but his gaze shifted past my head and out the window behind me into the dark country.

Treev muttered something as he shifted upright in his seat and switched attention from the road to the mirrors. 

I turned in my seat, and saw in the thicket the lights turn on of an old light brown mini-van. With a violent burst the now distant van jumped on to the highway, turning towards us and flashing its headlights.

“Sodomites?” I lamely shouted and Treev replied only with a nod of his head, frantically digging in the seat between us. 

“Where’s my stunner?” Treev yelled while keeping his eyes on the bright rear view mirror. 

I frantically dug in Beverly’s glove box, pulling out a mess of papers and various other unidentifiable things, letting them fall to my feet in the soiled carpet.

I handed Treev his stunner, and the car was quickly bathed in blue light as he gave a few pulls on the trigger to test it.

“Hey, look!” I held up the stuffed gray kitten which usually sat on the dash. “I found Chester!” 

Thinking this could be our last ride together, I placed Chester back on his stand, and turned to see the grim sight behind us. 

The two bright lights of the mini-van had not only gotten closer, but where soon being joined by others as the Sodomites caught the scent of fresh meat