Gone in a Flash

Chapter 1: L.N ORR

*Off to Independence, California...*

*Six years later...*

Independence is a one-horse town, and that horse died.

One fire station, one traffic light, one everything.

There's one garage too.

A peeling, sun-bleached sign reads: "L.N. ORR AUTOMOTIVE SERVICE & REPAIR."

Brad is with another kid in blue coveralls working on the underside of AMC Javelin.

Flash Sentry: "You know what you have here?"

Gearbox: "Not really..."

Flash Sentry: "There's excessive resistance in the cranking circuit. You know what you have to do?"

Gearbox: "Not really..."

Flash Sentry: "Do you have any other answer besides 'Not really'?"

Gearbox: "Not--"

Flash Sentry: "Right. You want to test the voltage drop. Use the voltmeter and remove the primary lead from the ignition coil and crank her. See what you got. You understand?"

Gearbox starts to say "Not really" again, but rather he stops himself and nods.

Flash shuffles over to a 1950s-esque refridgerator and pops the cap of a glass root beer bottle with his teeth.

He goes out the door and sits on the porch next to an old man smoking a cigarette, and an old dog.

Grandad: "Just can't find any good help these days."

Flash Sentry (in response to the cigarette): "Those things'll kill you, Grandad."

Grandad: "They haven't got a chance. The bourbon and bacon'll get to me first."

Grandad laughs while Flash stares straight ahead at the road, where Grandad notices a passing car.

Grandad: "That one--"

Sunset Shimmer: "1980 Mercury Cougar. 255 cubic inch V8. Based on the T-Bird bodyshell of the time. Modified the chassis, yeah, but didn't give a lick to the performance."

Grandad then points to another car, like this was a game.

Flash Sentry: "1970 Plymouth Road Runner. Proof positive of an all-powerful God. First bargain-priced muscle car to hit the dealers. They even tuned the horn like the cartoon bird it's based on."

Grandad's impressed, like always.

Grandad: "Damn, you're good."

Flash nods his gel-laden head, and takes a quick drink of the root beer.

Grandad: "Hey, did you get to Bingo last night?"

Flash Sentry: "That I did, Grandad. That I did."

From inside the garage, the most horrifying, toe-curling grind of metal is heard.

Gearbox: "Uh, Brad?"

Flash Sentry: "Excuse me--"

Sentry dashes back into the garage, Grandad cackles like an old coot.