Running With the Devil (SCP Fanfic)

Chapter 33: Shootout at the Inn

"Alright I found one, I'll let you talk to them," Malo said after quickly searching the map for auto shops.

"Ok, call them up and ask if they have a tow," He started walking towards the car.

"What, me!?" Malo exclaimed.

Turning back, James said, "Why not, I have to make it not look like a crime scene.

"Ok... fine," she pouted.

Twenty minutes later, there was no sword sticking out of the road, and the car was pushed to the side with all their stuff hidden in the trunk.

Soon enough, yellow cones of light slowly made their way towards them. James quickly realized Malo was standing right next to him, "Malo, take off your clothes quick!" James pushed her towards the car.

"Excuse me?" She said with surprise.

"I don't want any questions as to why there are floating clothes standing here. Get in the car, I won't look, I can't even look!"

"Uh... ok, just don't look," she narrowed the lights of her eyes and quickly ran over to the car, opening the door and practically throwing herself into the back seat.

James walked over to the car and leaned against the trunk, waiting for the truck to come closer. The headlights skipped across the water of the lake as the vehicle made its way along the winding path. James could only hope it was actually the tow truck and not more soldiers coming to kill them. He had no more strength left. What kept him going was the adrenaline and the constant paranoia that he and Malo would meet their end soon.

He sighed and breathed in the misty air of the dream like evening, "How am I even going to pay the guy?" He closed his eyes then just for a moment of rest and quickly opened them just as fast. It was the tow truck, not anyone else unexpected, and pushing off the car, he extended his arms up and waved them down.

The low murmur and smell of diesel wafted into Jame's nose as the truck came to a complete stop in front of the immobilized car. Opening the door and hopping out of the tall seat, a gruff looking man in overalls put a fresh cigarette in his mouth and approached him.

"Lucky you called when you did," the man spoke while trying to light the cigarette, it bouncing up and down as he spoke, "I almost closed up shop."

"Sorry it's such late notice, it didn't happen so long ago and I don't have a spare," James responded to the man, who despite it being past closing time for him, took his time drawing the life of the lit tobacco into his mouth.

"Eh, no worries, kid, I don't mind helping out when someone's in a sort of predicament like yourselves here. Especially nowadays with all this crap going on in the world, and especially with those so-called eh... unallegied... militants infiltrating countries and causing chaos," he seemed to try and say something with his final words while looking over Jame's shoulder.

A few moments of silence stewed James in awkwardness as the mechanic took a few steps closer into his personal space, "Smoke?" He extended a silver and white paper carton towards James.

"No... thanks."

With a smile the man patted Jame's shoulder in a friendly manner, "Im fucking with you. You can sit up front, I'll only be a minute."

The man went about his business with the machine on the back of his truck while James looked into the dark, sleepy interior of his car. Seeing a quick blur of something, he smiled and made his way into the high seat of the truck's passenger side.

In a matter of minutes, the car was loaded on and the mechanic slammed the door shut to the driver's side.

The ride was quiet and somewhat calm. The fog soon gave way on the winding road as they left the lake and mountain behind them. The area was unrecognizable to James, like he was in another part of the world. The mechanic looked over at him once with a knowing expression on his face. James didn't need to tell him anything to see he had a rough day, so he never said a word and kept his eyes on the road.