Cyberpunk 2077: V

Chapter 51: Strange Notion

V just started driving. After leaving the old rail depot in flames, black smoke spewing into the sky behind her as firetrucks rolled down the street in her rearview, V let her subconscious take over. She felt numb, in a way. Like she wasn't really there. It was as if her body had entered some sort of power-saver mode.

It was hard, ignoring those memories. The memories of the data streams dripping like blood down the sides of the weird servers. The laughter that whispered in the flames on the psycho's body, the hum of electronics resonating in her gut. 

It was especially hard to ignore the way the psycho had smiled and said, "THERE YOU ARE!"

V shuddered, shaking herself back into reality. She realized then that she had driven much farther than she thought, looping around the edge of Watson. Traffic was light at that point, being early afternoon, and she was able to cruise down the road that would take her into the tunnel under the overpass. She was just about to reach out to turn up her music when a smell drifted through her car's air vents.

Burning oil. Hydraulic fluid.

Blood.

Then V saw the car. An obnoxiously pink 2077 Quadra, tricked out with all bells and whistles, smashed nose-first into the side of the tunnel. It had hopped up over the curb and onto the sidewalk, the hood crumpled like a crushed Spunky Munky can. V slammed on her brakes, threw on her hazards, and rushed out of her car towards the wreck. The driver's side door was hanging open, barely attached by a couple of electrical wires. There was blood everywhere, splattered all over the interior and the airbags, with streaks of it showing that the driver had dragged himself from the vehicle and down the sidewalk.

V's eyes quickly followed the blood trail to about ten feet away, where, lying sprawled out next to the metal walkway railing, was a body.

This close now, V could smell the alcohol. The car reeked of it, stronger than the blood and burning oil. As she jogged toward the guy on the ground, she realized the stench was radiating off of him too.

V scanned him. He was gone. Judging from all the blood, he must have nicked an artery.

As V looked closer, she saw that his body was hunched, face down. It looked like he was cradling something. She reached out and felt for a pulse, confirming he was dead when she found none, and then carefully turned him over.

When she saw what he was holding, she reared back with a sharp hiss.

A bottle. Tequila, it looked like. It was cracked and shattered, the jagged edge shoved straight into his gut. He had been drinking while driving, and when he wrecked, the bottle in his lap had been crushed by the steering column, stabbing into his stomach.

V looked back over at the car. Glinting in the light of the small fire burning in the engine, she saw more bottles strewn across the passenger seat, along with the sheen of shattered glass.

V's pity curdled into something darker. The gonk had literally drunk himself to death... but, he'd at least been decent enough to not to take anyone else out with him.

Despite the car being burned and smashed to oblivion, V sent a picture and a text to the kids at The Grid. Ace thanked her for the tip and said the car would be useful, and that they'd be by to collect it soon. V then sent a tip to the NCPD scanhopp hotline, reporting the accident and the deceased individual at the scene.

She went back to the car, disgusted by the sheer number of alcohol bottles inside, but found what she was looking for. A jacket, haphazardly thrown into the back seat. V took it and laid it over the dead gonk's face. She said a prayer for him then, as was her custom.