Chapter 7

Annie Cartwright was sitting down at a desk, working over some paperwork on a case. She wished Phyllis was there with her so that the two could see to the work together. Besides, they could talk about the stuff that they could never mention to the guys. She jumped when Hunt bellowed from his office. She jumped up and ran into the door. She saw Gene kneeling on the floor, cradling Sam in his lap. Gene's jacket was thrown over the whole surface of the desk and it smelled like a cigarette gone wrong somehow.

"Help me," He demanded of Annie, looking haunted. Annie leapt into action, getting what other people in there she could. Together, they moved Sam into the locker room, making sure they didn't drop him.

"What happened to Sam?" Annie asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Gene admitted, chewing his lower lip worriedly. "We got into a little row about Ray and Chris. When I went to get a nip, my flask exploded." Annie's hand shot up to her mouth in shock.

"What do you mean?"

Gene and Annie went back to his office, after making sure some people were keeping an eye on Sam. Annie's eyes grew in shock when Gene fished the flask from under the large coat. The coat was ok, just smelling of a tad bit smoke that could come out in a washing or two. However, the flask was all but ruined. The silver coat had been corrupted, tarnishing it with a sickish black color. Annie gently picked the item up and dropped it with a grimace of distaste; the flask also was left greasy. Now, Annie's hand had a smudge of black coated on it.

"What do you think of it, Cartwright?" Gene asked. "How could this happen?"

"I don't know sir," She replied. "Maybe you can tell me what led up to it?"

"Sam and I, we had a small row. Then, I open my flask. It spouted flame. At the same time, Tyler is grabbing his face and head and halls backward out of the chair. I sort it out, then go to him, he is awake but saw what happened, swore then feinted dead away. It was the most chilling thing I ever saw. Weirdness goes together with Tyler hand-in-hand."

Chris labored behind Sakura on the country road, asking to take a break. He saw Sakura regarding him as he took a swig from the only water canteen they had between them. He found a pair of blue jeans, which didn't look bad on him at all. The short sleeved shirt looked out of place on him, and he figured it was because he was still used to wearing his old fashioned stuff. The t-shirt had been Sakura's fathers, he learned. Her father was a rather large man, and often wore XXL shirts. The shirt he now wore was white, and had a woman's picture on it. 'LeAnn Rimes' was the name given to the lady. Sakura explained that her dad loved Country Music, Bluegrass as well.

"How much father to this Fast Stop," He inquired as he gave Sakura the canteen.

She took a small quick swig, without wiping down the mouthpiece, as Chris grimaced. "Even I know about germs and stuff," He muttered.

"Not that far," She replied, screwing the cap back on the canteen. 'And sorry, wasn't thinking." She replied abut the germs issue. "Let's go."

"Can't we wait a few more minutes?" Chris wasn't unfit, but lately, he's been walking the farthest he has in a long time. "What about a Lorry or something?"

"I don't drive and don't have a bunch of people that have my back." Sakura looked back and saw that Chris wasn't moving. "It's better in the long run if you keep walking. Get too cozy in one spot after a bout like this, and you'll get very sore in the legs." Chris swore ever so softly and moved at last, trying to catch up with Sakura.

Ray was at the house, the dishes done. At first when the duo left, he was furious. That and ashamed having to do something menial like dishes, something a true div would be forced to do. Then after an hour, he was becoming worried because they weren't back yet. After the dishes were done, he looked for a Beer, but couldn't find any.

"What has this bloody future come to?" he muttered, finding, instead, a can of Coca-Cola.

He eased himself in the easy chair in the den and turned on the Telly. As he sipped on the can of Coke, he marveled at some of the stuff that was flashing across its screen. He groaned when some other TV shows came up total rubbish. He saw near the Telly a black tape cassette. He grabbed it and shoved it in quickly, pressing a random button. The thing turned on. This voice said something about Tuesday Nitro.

"Previously, on Life on Mars." The voice stated. Ray sat forward in the easy chair, eyeing the Telly with rapt attention, and sat back in the chair, slack-jawed at the montage of images flickering across the screen. The Soda lay on the floor, in a puddle where he'd dropped it in shock.