Midnight Auto Supply

Chapter 2: First Evening in the 21st Century

"I thought you said you were gonna help us." George complained from the back seat. 

"Man, I'm tryin', but it's kinda hard if you don't believe me." 

"GIVE US ONE GOOD REASON TO!" Paul had decided to raise his voice again, though this time it was a little less accusatory and a lot more exasperated. Still very much got on my nerves. 

"Well ya definitely ain't in fuckin' Kansas anymore. Just look around you," I suddenly became aware of the lights flickering by, like a river that was streaming past my window, and how horribly modern everything looked, "The technology, the lights, and how people have been treating you. If you really are from the sixties, then none of this should be familiar. I'm sorry, but you're in the 21st century. 2019." 

"This is a trip. Just a bad trip." Paul stumbled in the back of the van struggling to maintain a hold on his consciousness. George looked like he was about to throw up. Ringo had taken to counting the ridges on the side of the highway. John was looking at me inquisitively. 

"S'posing what you're saying is true, why tha hell would you come back ta help us? I thought you were angry, or somethin'." 

"Yeah, about that...um, when I went back out to my car I overheard some people talkin', I dunno who the hell they were but they said somethin' about you all, the Beatles, bein' here from tha sixties, and they hadn't even been inside yet, and they said that they were gonna kill you or somethin'." 

"Kill us? For what?" 

"I dunno, they mentioned some science bullshit or somethin', but they knew all about ya, and that you were here and it had something to do with time. Oh god, I don't even know anymore. Just, fuck-" The road was beginning to blur in front of me, and I'd heard stories about people who let that happen to them. No. My only job was to drive, to get somewhere far away from here. 

"I believe her," Ringo piped up from the back, startling everyone, " I do, I mean, what else could be goin' on an' all tha'. Why does everyone act like they don't know us? And everythin' is so different."

There was a sweeping silence throughout the van, though I didn't care. I was just trying to keep my eyes on the road. 

"I s'pose, for my own sanity, I can buy into this for now, but I swear if this is some fuckin' set-up-" Paul was near fuming with rage, and all I could do was retaliate with my own.

"It's not a fuckin' set-up! God, just, just everyone-" 

"How do we know that, though, huh? You're pretty shady, yourself, Miss..." he trailed off. Accusing me without even knowing my name. 

"Shady?! You're the ones who accosted me in the parking lot of my own fuckin' school. I shouldn't be helpin' you right now, I really shouldn't, and I can drop you right on the side of the fucking road right now if that's what you want, but goddamn it's not all about you, y'know. If they catch up with us, it's not just you all who are gonna die. They mentioned some shit about me, and goddamn I wanna live just as much as you all. So, if you want me to drop you off on the side of the road, just let me know, and I will do so happily. Until then, you're just gonna have to trust me."

George threw up. 

"Tha's disgusting, son!" I didn't know who set it, but I could feel my anger soften and some defensiveness bubbling up inside of me. 

"Here, here, he can sit in the front seat and go out the window. But, I don't think we can stop, I'm sorry." 

John pushed him forward into the front seat as I rolled down the window, as his shaking muscles reluctantly relaxed into a position allowing him to spew all over the highway.

"Can't you see he's sick? We have to stop!" John was the only one who seemed to have full control of his faculties. 

"We can't! This is the longest amount of time that we'll have to get anywhere, without those fuckers catching up with us."

"Those fuckers aren't even real?" 

"Well the goddamn police are, and they're not letting you all on the loose. We're just gonna have to drive a little more, but I know and intersection up here that doesn't have a traffic camera. I can pull off somewhere there and head a little more West, but that's gonna be at least two hours."

"That's it, we're getting off." John reached to George's shoulder.

"Fine by me. Lemme find an outlet." 

"No, John, no." Ringo piped up again.

"Stay out of this, Rings." John spat. 

"He's right, John. We can't," Paul gave me a sideways glance before pulling John further back in the car and dragging him into a very hushed conversation with himself and Ringo. I turned to look at George, who had stopped throwing up for now. Normally, I would've offered some comforting words, but my better judgement told me not to say anything.

My phone buzzed.

"Shit." I muttered. I would have to turn that thing off for a long time, in the interest of not being tracked. Doing the ol' one handed maneuver to power that thing down, I noticed a text from one of my best friends, Zoe, asking me if I was coming to the outing we had planned for tomorrow.

I powered my phone down. I wasn't sure when I would be able to talk to Zoe again. But I didn't have time to get upset right now. I had to look out for myself, and, as much as I wanted to pretend like I wouldn't be caring about the four assholes in my car anytime soon, I really did want to help them out. Just the minute they stopped being so goddamned difficult. 

An hour later, everyone in the car was passed out. Paul and Ringo had their heads on each others shoulders on the benches in the back of the van, while John was leaning down on one of the benches with his eyes closed. George was slumped against the window, and I noticed how dirty his shirt was.

At least everyone was quiet now, and I could drive in peace. I had decided to stick with the plan that I had set in motion before, and go to one of the intersections where I knew there was no traffic camera. I could pull off and travel to where I knew there would be more spaced out land, and where we could maybe find some peace for the night. 

The road was becoming blurry in front of me again. I needed to focus. Slowly, the Hawaii 5-0 theme song dribbled off my lips. My foot began to tap, and my CDs, in the box by George's feet, began to rattle as we pulled onto a rougher patch of highway. 

My CDs. There was definitely some Beatles in there. 

I would have to get rid of that, I thought to myself. Something about the integrity of the future. And something about that whole business also means that I wouldn't be able to tell them anything about their futures, despite their asking. 

Whatever, I thought to myself. All conversations and thoughts that could be had tomorrow. 

**********

I'm not dead, I swear.

Also, thanks to @agentalexandra for being the kick in the ass I need to keep this story going. Now that it's summer, y'all, I can keep this thing chugging forward. 

Also, sorry that this one is so short. They'll get longer I promise.