Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
[Part Six]
Part Seven
Part Eight
“I hated everyone. Every last man, woman and child. I hated all of them for their mindless roll-the-dice, move-your-mice approach to life. I was a terrorist.”
She looked up. “But once I actually got on the road to do it, I saw other sides of people. Homeless people smiled at me, children waved, random people I didn't know said hello to me.”
I leaned back and yawned. “What was that like?”
“...I...couldn't say.” She thought about it for a while.
“It was incredible, like becoming a real person after being a puppet, or a cartoon, or a toy. I had never seen anything that way before.”
“I was determined, but every day that I saw that side of people weakened my intent, and I eventually gave up completely and turned around. Which was today, when my car was stolen.”
I sighed. “You don't remember what I did, do you?”
“No...well...it was something strange. It must have, because they didn't give any information, and you were on after a murderer and a pedophile, and they didn't mention anything about you, or what you did, at all.”
I closed my eyes and frowned. “What...could I have done?”
“Dammit man, I don't know, but the whole situation is sketchy as all hell. You were probably taking down the government or something, and they didn't want to tell anyone.”
She laughed a small laugh, hardly more than a giggle.
“Well, Mr. Anarchist, we still have the internet, thanks to viewers like you.”
“Ha, well, thanks, I guess. Although I don't remember ever using it...”
My mind tried to change gears, but stripped all the teeth off of one of them and popped the other off the axle. “So, what do we do now? I don't know the first thing about living on the run. Or anything at all, really.”
She snorted.
“Well, I guess we're going to have to find out, aren't we?”
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