Walking is for Sissies

[Brian T. Riley 0]

The huge vehicle tore up small patches of the new roadway as it rumbled through the snow covered woods. The wide tracks on the rear and chained tires on the front were designed for off road travel, but worked just as well, although noiser, on the paved road. It wasn't the hovercraft Eagle was hoping for, but the giant construction vehicle would have to suffice.

 

An hour earlier Brian, Tom, Malik, and Doug had stumbled upon a small parking lot of vehicles that must have been left by the road construction crew. After some quick scouting, the beast that Brian was now driving was found to be the most convenient to hotwire. With a shreek of grinding gears, Brian downshifted as they crested a hill and saw the camp that had been their uncomfortable home for nearly a week. He glanced over at his three companions, or was it guards now? Malik and Doug had taken the back seats of the large crew cab and Tom sat in the front seat, and all were fast asleep. The warm air pouring out of the heating vents of the truck had made everyone drowsy. Only the frozen air pouring through the half opened window and his persistent headache kept Brian's eyes from closing.

 

The dark thought of ditching his sleeping crew and trying to make it out on his own crept back into his mind. Too many years of relying only on himself had given him some habits that did not fit very well into Stafleet's cooperative structure. Brian shook his head to clear them from his mind and focused on bringing the massive vehicle safely down the hill and into the work camp. As he fought the tendency of the rear end to slide a little on the icy road an unbidden thought rose into his conciousness. Brian had made a promise when he started his solo scouting expedition to come back. At the time he wasn't quite sure if it was to himself, the group, or someone specific. What he was sure of though, was that he'd rather face the courts martial and its subsequent punishment than face that someone's disapointment.

 

Brian rubbed his right eye as he tried to absorb the fact that for the first time in years he was deeply concerned with what somebody else thought of him. "Bloody hell, pal. You're loosing your edge." He mumbled to himself.

 

He cracked his neck in an attempt to clear the distracting thoughts and relieve some of the pain throbing through his head, and reached over to slap Tom's shoulder, "Hey, we are back."

Edited June 12, 2008 by Brian T. Riley