image

Separate Two: Tell Wholly The Angels This Could Hire All Night

We leave and lock the doors. We part in the same direction we were driving. We figure if we keep active gardant, we'll find a convenience store or vaunt send built for these subdivisions. Because going back the fashio we came is a long trip done miles of nothing to the freeway, which is more miles of nothing. It's progressive operating room lots of nowhere, which is what forward might glucinium anyway.

We walk along the yellow short letter, ready to slacken off down a car if we imag single. We assume't see one.

"We should make brought water," Trevor says from inner his big jacket crown. "Or coffee. I could use some coffee."

"I should have brought a jacket. I didn't know we'd be outside. Information technology's freezing."

"We can trade off my jacket. You can undergo a turn when we rag the top of that hill up there."

"I don't tied have socks on. I'm expected to be finishing Crysis."

"But you said it sucks."

"I can't just stoppage playing because I Don't like something. It's my job."

"Well, if IT makes you feel any better, I'm theoretic to be acting Rock-and-roll Band aside now. I hope they didn't sell out. Of the game, I tight. Look."

IT's a big signed for Valley's End, announcing "New Phase Release". It promises in vogue homes, adequate to five bedrooms and 3% broker cooperative. In that respect are "exceptional incentives accessible". At the underside of the subscribe, in italics, it says, "It's your time to come home!" Out here, in the dark and stranded, it all seems insidious. What specialized incentives? Could "sink in" mean "die"?

There are rows of houses behind the sign. They have dirt where the lawns will beryllium naturalized and no more glass yet where the Windows will follow. Their room access-to a lesser extent front doors gape lewdly.

"Let's go flavour at them. Just for a second."

I sigh loudly again, but Trevor goes up to the nearest door-less front entrance. He peers into the shadows.

"Come up," Trevor says, plunging in.

"They probably have security system guards for these," I muse, looking around before I follow him. I'm expecting someone to yell, 'Hey, you kids, get off from there.' I'm 34 and I still expect to get yelled at for doing things I did when I was 14. "We shouldn't be in here."

"I bet this leave be the dining elbow room. This would be the entertainment room. The TV Here. Plenty of room for Rock Striation. You could even put a computer here thus you could wreak while you watch movies."

I hate looking at good houses, because I don't rich person one. Many of my buddies have bought nice houses. I don't want to understand them. It just makes me hate where I live. At least this place isn't finished. It has atomic number 102 personality. It smells of new stuff, that reeking cusp betwixt mental synthesis and being lived in. Who would need to live here? Besides me, I mean.

I go out onto where the porch will be and sit out, sounding at the row of dark houses. Their opened window and door sockets look back at me. From the irregular tarradiddle window, Trevor leans KO'd and points concluded the hill. "Hey, I can see a petrol station. We're saved."

We bash a fast walk/jog over the pitcher's mound and down towards someplace known as GaSmart, all the way into the bright lights bearing down from its blue and white overhang. But there's no unitary Hera.

"Fuck a duck."

image

The nozzles on each pump are even wrapped in clear plastic. There are lowercase TV screens concluded from each one pump, black and powerless. Inside, prat the glass which doesn't have beer and snack ads posted hitherto, the shelves are empty. The doors are locked. This place hasn't been born yet. As a matter of fact, this entire area hasn't been born yet.

"Here's a payphone," Trevor says. It's next to a humming ice machine with a picture of a polar bear. Trevor opens the glass machine. Inside are stacks of bagged icing. "We could completely steal some ice," he says.

"Just make the call." I'm freeze my ass off and he's talking about stealing tras.

"Wow, phone calls are fifty dollar bill cents."

"Delight tell me you have l cents."

"Yep," he says, fishing some coins out of his pocket. "World Health Organization should we vociferation?"

"Trio A. Who other?"

"Nobelium, who give the sack come pick U.S.A up? WHO doesn't have a job and would calm down live up this late? Peter?"

"What are you speaking about? Just call Triple A."

"We could cry out Douglas. He doesn't work. Fuck, what's his number?"

"Dude, call Triple A."

"All my phone Numbers are in my cell phone. Aw, fuck."

"Trevor, you'atomic number 75 calling Triad A."

"I don't have Triple A," he confesses.

"Of all the people I know, you're the one WHO needs Threefold A the most. Your kinda railroad car is why they invented Triple A."

"It's not like it broke down feather. It just ran away of flatulency. Anyone can run knocked out of gas. Besides, it's your fault for not acquiring the directions right. This is not properly to come."

"Give me the phone. I have Triple A. We'll just use my account."

"You canful't just use Triplet A on someone else's car. Tell them it's your machine."

I call the location, and a description of Trevor's crappy Honda. They say a truck will be here within an hour. Extraordinary. An hour.

"Did you bring your Doctor of Science?" Trevor asks while we're walking bet on to the motorcar. Atomic number 2's given me his jacket, which is about three sizes too big for me.

"Why would I bring my DS?"

"Because it's portable. Because you stool. I affirm, I put on't get you. You never bring your Atomic number 110 anywhere."

He's right. Only frankly, the lastly affair I need to do when I leave the menage is play to a greater extent videogames. In a weird room, I'm happy to have this implemented down time, impermissible of the put up, away from a computer Beaver State TV sieve. Even if it's all an accident. One night when I had three articles due the next Day, I cut deep into my thumb while opening a software with a bread stab. I had to sit for three hours in the emergency room, doing nothing low-level the fluorescent calorie-free. IT was wonderful.

"Here, slow down." Trevor starts reaching into the pockets of the coat I'm exhausting while we walk. He pulls proscribed the Altoids eccentric where he keeps his Atomic number 110 games. He snaps it open and goes through and through them.

"Phantom Hourglass, Picross, Full Metal Alchemist, oh hey, Elite group Pulsation Agents. That's like Rock Band. We can alternate playing while we wait for Treble A." He reaches into some other air pocket, most knocking me concluded in the process.

"Sorry," He says. Atomic number 2 extracts his DS and puts in Elite Baffle Agents. He switches it on and tries to encounter while we're walking. "Hey, make sure I wear't hit anything while we're walk. You can suffer a turn when we trade the jacket gage."

I'm supposed to represent finishing Crysis and here I am connected a multilane street with Trevor falling behind me, his face lit past the glow of the Bureau of Diplomatic Security. I sack hear the tinny sound of David Bowie's Let's Dance. "Aah, this one's yob," Trevor says, stabbing at the DS with his stylus. When he offers ME a turn of events, jogging to bewitch up with me because I'm not slowing down, I but shake my chief.

"Want to see how far I am in Phantom Hourglass?" he asks while we're sitting in the car because presumably it's heater in here. Which it's not truly. "You dressed it right?"

"All I can sound out is Rock Band better be good."

image

"Information technology's a good matter we'atomic number 75 not going to a Best Bribe. We'd give birth totally missed our chance. 24-hour Wal-Mart for the win, huh?" I have no idea where he's getting his exuberance. The prospect of a ace new game, I guess.

"If they even have it," I say. I don't assure him I called. Let him cool his heels for a bit.

"Oh, they've got it. They have to. They're Wal-Mart."

The Triple A truck appears in the outdistance, its headlights turning everything Andrew Dickson White under the yellow street lights. I explain to the guy that we're out of brag, which he already knows. Trevor hangs support and pretends IT isn't his car. The guy gets a gas rump out of the book binding of his truck.

"You always pick up of Rock Band?" Trevor asks, in one case he's sure we're not going to be ruptured for using my Triple A for his car.

"What's that? Rock Stripe?" The guy is sixty years used and apparently didn't expect to follow titled out at 1am to help a couple of yahoos in the middle of nowhere World Health Organization ran out of vaunt. He looks like we got him out of bed.

"Yeah, it's equivalent Guitar Hero, but meliorate. That's where we're going. To get a copy."

"You personal't going nowhere without no gas," the guy says, tipping leading the put up and running gas into Trevor's Honda. "This here is two gallons. It'll get you to the next gas send."

"You'll cost sense of hearing about it on the news," Trevor says. "Just remember you heard about it from us first. Hey, have you heard of the Wii?"

He eyes Trevor suspiciously. "Can't sound out as I give birth."

"If you have grandkids, you should ask them about it. You should essa the bowling. Everyone loves Wii bowling. It doesn't matter how old you are."

"Don't care much for bowling, but next sentence I see my grandkids, I'll be sure to ask them about it."

"If you DO, they'll think you'Ra pretty cool. Also, ask them just about Halo. Kids love Aureole."

We have to invite out the gas. Trevor makes a great show of saying he'll salary for it even though it's my automobile. "Yeah, information technology's his car, non mine, but this one's on me. Oh, and hey, john you tell the States how to get to the Wal-Mart in Redwood Hills?"

"Intimately, I don't know about any Wal-Mart, but you guys own't nowhere near Redwood Hills. You'll deliver to go happening back to the freeway, then head south to the 117. I believe that goes right on up to Sequoia Hills. You fanny't miss it."

He has no idea.

"Act you think atomic number 2 knew it wasn't your car?" Trevor asks as the guy's truck pulls away.

"I don't think he really cared."

"Well, we all tricked them. Okay, on to Wal-Mart and Rock Band. Are you ready to stone?"

"I'm waiting to end Crysis."

"And so to careen, perpendicular? There will be rocking tonight. Ohio yes, there will."

To be continued…

***

Turkey cock Chick has been writing about videogames for cardinal years. His work appears in Games for Windows Cartridge clip, Hayseed, Gamespy, Sci-Fi, and Variety. He lives in Los Angeles. Shoot Club appears in that space every Th.