–In the 21st Century–
The sound of cheers of support and jubilant shouts coming from the gymnasium seemed to be at war with the faint, yet distinctive laughter of children and blaring music coming from the auditorium to see who could give Savannah the biggest headache. However, they both tied for second place when compared to the immediate banging, clanging, and incessant chatter that Lotte seemed to be taking part in at the moment.
"—to make sure it doesn't burst into flames, y'know? I know that it sounds statistically improbable, and you're right because 99.3% of people do to, but I know for a fact that the 0.7% chance of this Pistachio Cart spontaneously combusting is very likely. So that's why I'm rigging the system too—" Lotte rambled off, using power tools that Savannah was fairly certain she didn't enter the school with to "fix" the pistachio cart they were assigned to guard.
It had been a couple days since the "Brick the Prick" incident, as Lotte so affectionately referred to it, and after convincing Block to let Lotte be Savannah's new partner, the two had been re-assigned to Pistachio duty. Cavendish and Dakota were to continue Renaissance Potty duty, and Brick had been assigned to help Chip with his mission—whatever the hell that was.
After a particularly loud clang, Savannah groaned and glanced over the other side of the cart. "What the fresh hell are you doing?"
Lotte peeked her head over the edge of the cart, a brow raised behind her dark sunglasses. "Weren't you listening? I'm making the pistachio cart indestructible!"
"Why?"
"Better safe than sorry, I always say!" The green haired girl replied cheerfully.
"I have never heard you say that before…" Savannah sighed.
"Maybe if you were a better listener, you would have. No wonder Brick couldn't stand to be around you anymore…" Lotte mumbled the last part, but Savannah still heard her.
Savannah's brow furrowed as she slouched back into her seat. That was one of the problems with working with Lotte, her backhanded comments. The former first-class agent wasn't sure if the green-haired girl used to do this with Cavendish and Dakota (though she doubted it), but it was starting to get to her. For the few past days, from clock-in to clock-out, it would be something like "Really? You're wearing that out" or "For a former first-class agent, you're not that bright," or Savannah's favorite "God, it's like I'm the only real agent around here…"
It stung. It really did.
"There!" Lotte exclaimed, hopping to her feet, and dusting herself off. "Now, the cart should be 72% more likely to withstand llama stampedes, sudden woodpecker swarmings, or giant plasma screen TV's falling on top of it!"
"Those are very specific set of circumstances…"
"Well, I couldn't prevent all disasters, sooo I tried to prepare for the ones that are more statistically possible for the area."
"Really?" Savannah raised an unbelieving brow. "A llama stampede is one of the most statistically probable things to happen in the area?"
"You'd be surprised." Lotte rubbed the back of her neck. "I know I was…"
"Lotte! Lotte!" A youthful voice called from down the hall, closer to the theatre. The green-haired women turned and smiled happily.
"Hey Zack!" As two children approached the Pistachio Cart, Lotte met them halfway and embraced the boy in a hug. Savannah recognized the boy—who was dressed as some pop icon from the 1980's for some reason—as the "Zack kid" she and Brick had seen hanging around Cavendish and Dakota. The girl—who for whatever reason was dressed as a Renaissance Princess—smiled at the two embracing friends and gave a polite wave to Savannah, which she half-heartedly returned. "You two are looking swanky… Ok, lemme guess; since Amanda is dressed as a princess and Zack is dressed as Prince, I'm gonna say you guys are working on the Halloween number for your show."
Amanda laughed. "Close, but not quite."
"Today's the Costume Parade!" Zack explained. "We're trying on all of our costumes to make sure they fit and if they can be improved. Milo's sister and her friends volunteered to help with the costumes and everything."
"Wow, that was really cool of them." Lotte smiled, admiring the children's costumes. "Hey, is Milo with you two? I made some improvements to the Pistachio cart and I want to test them out."
"Sorry, he's not." Zack smiled apologetically. "Some field mice came in through the vents and tore his Halloween costume to pieces. He and Sara are trying to salvage what they can from the whole thing."
"That sucks… Oh, shoot, I think I forgot the field mice prevention protocol."
"That is not a thing." Savannah pointed out.
"How would you know?" Lotte asked harshly. "You're too busy paying attention to your own face that you never think about anyone else." Amanda and Zack's eyes widened at Lotte's sudden hostility. The two children watched as Savannah switched from surprised, to angry, to melancholy all within a matter of seconds. Lotte sighed heavily, "Look, just, go make yourself useful for once and go get my tool kit from the car."
Savannah, avoiding Lotte's gaze, gave a quiet, "Whatever," and walked off in the direction of the stage. Lotte rolled her eyes and called out "That's not the way we came in!" but Savannah was already gone. "Eh, she never listened anyway…"
Zack and Amanda exchanged a look. "Hey, Lotte, don't you think you were a little hard on her?"
"What'd you mean?"
"I mean… well, you were never this harsh around Cavendish and Dakota…" Zack awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
Lotte frowned at the youth. "Zack, wasn't she the one who chased you through a sewer? Why should you care?"
"That's true, but—"
"You were kind of hard on her…" Amanda trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Lotte gave her a dirty look.
"I didn't think this concerned you." Amanda shrunk back slightly, and Zack raised a brow at Lotte, not really understanding why she was acting so harshly all of a sudden. The green-haired woman must have realized this because her face and tone softened. "You two came to grab snacks for the others right? I can set you up with a ton of Pistachios. Maybe a few water bottles to help you stay hydrated?"
Zack and Amanda exchanged glances, they had indeed come to get snacks, but the two had lost their appetites after seeing Lotte's rather cruel treatment of Savannah. Still, it didn't mean there friends weren't hungry.
"Uh, yeah, that sounds nice." Zack smiled weakly.
"Could I have mine lightly salted, please?" Amanda asked cautiously.
Lotte, either not noticing the children's cautious tone or just simply not caring, smiled. "Sure thing! I'll have it ready in a jiff…"
–In the year 2176–
Through the walls of the bathroom, Chip could still hear the loud music of the club. His and Brick's TICC thought it would be a good idea to connect with Jonah and Aiden, build some bridges. A double date seemed to be the easiest way to do that.
Chip, not being particularly into Jonah (and knowing that the man in question hated most of humanity in general), decided to get completely shit-faced. Try and replace the constant buzzing in his brain with a more enjoyable buzz, even if it was only temporary. He could only put up with the constant put-downs, commands, and reminders of 'sticking to the plan' for so long.
After five cheep beers and a failed attempt at getting someone's number, his TICC realized what he was trying to do and, with what little control it had over him due to his intoxicated state, piloted him over to the men's room and forced Chip to upchuck all the alcohol he just drank.
So to put it mildly, Chip was in Hell.
After another round of dry heaving, Chip slumped onto the floor of the bathroom, panting. "Why… why are you doing…. Doing this?"
"You know why." His TICC told him. "We're this close to starting the final phase of our plan, we need to be in perfect sync! You being pissed as a newt isn't going to help us much…"
Chip coughed and glared at the tile he was laying on. "Your plan… not mine…"
"Is that supposed to mean something?" The TICC asked threateningly.
"Look…" Chip pushed himself up and wiped the sweat from his brow. "I'm all for taking Blockhead down a peg or two…" The curly-haired man panted again. "But this is going too far…"
A bolt of electricity shot through his system, and suddenly, Chip couldn't move. The curly0haired man started to panic. The buzzing in his brain grew dangerously loud. "Are you disobeying a direct order?"
Chip's breaths came in short burst. He was panicking, he knew he was, he knew he had to calm down… but he wasn't sure how. Normally his TICC would sense his growing heartrate and calm him manually. But now, Chip realized his TICC was part of the problem. A painful shock traveled from Chip's spine to the very tips of his fingers. With a robotic sense of precision, Chip's left hand dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the pocket knife he kept on him for self-defense purposes and pressed it dangerously close to his neck.
Chip's heartrate spiked, and his breath caught in his throat as his TICC spoke in a low, warning tone. "Let's not forget who's really in charge here, Mr. Wolowitz."
The TICC forced Chip to stand up, despite how sick he still felt, knife pressed close to his neck. Chip tried with all of his might to regain control of his limbs, but all he could manage to do was shed a single tear of fear. It rolled down his cheek and splashed onto the hand that held the knife.
He was trapped.
–In the 21st Century–
Melissa set down the duct tape with a satisfied grin. "There," she said, "I'd like to see those field mice try and make a nest out of your cyborg costume now." Milo glanced down and smiled at the duct tape Melissa had wrapped around all important seams on his costume. Seeing as how that is how the field mice destroyed most of it in the first place, he was happy for the extra protection. Even if it felt a little awkward to move his arms around.
"Thanks, Melissa! Now, here, let me duct tape your seams." Melissa smiled and stretched out her arms, so Milo could attempt to fix the holes the field mice made in her clown costume. Unfortunately for Milo, his hands got wrapped up in a sort of cat's cradle of tape, much to Melissa's confusion.
"Did you guys fix your costumes?" Amanda asked as she and Zack approached the two, arms full of pistachio bags.
"Mine's good!" Milo smiled.
"Mine, not so much." Melissa gestured to Milo and the Duct-tape.
"I can tell." Zack deadpanned. "Hey, can I ask you two a question?"
"Shoot, boyband." Melissa smirked.
"Has Lotte been acting… strange lately?" Milo and Melissa exchanged glances.
"What kind of strange?" Milo asked.
"There are different types of strange?" Amanda asked.
"There is around Milo." Melissa answered. "And more to the point; Zack, what kind of strange are you talking about? Is it something like 'seagulls-in-the-funhouse strange or running-away-from-a-two-ton-ball-of-cake-batter-while-rollerblading strange?"
Zack raised his brow. "Um… more like Lotte-being-unnecessarily-mean-to-her-new-partner strange."
Milo paused his attempts to free himself from the duct tape to stare at Zack incredulously. "Lotte? Mean to someone? That doesn't sound right."
"Are you sure she wasn't just using some weird tough love scenario-thingy?" Melissa asked.
"I'm sure of it! I've never seen her act like that before. I mean, sure, she'll spout random facts at the oddest points like she's the human encyclopedia, but this was an all-new level of strange for her."
Amanda nodded in agreement. "The insults seemed to be really personal too… I feel bad for her new co-worker." Before the kids could discuss Lotte's odd behavior, Bradley and Mort approached the group.
"Melissa, your cell-phones keeps ringing." Mort handed her the phone. "And the song's starting to get stuck in our head."
"And we already have enough songs stuck in our head due to the play…" Bradley sighed.
"Who's calling you, your dad?" Milo asked.
Melissa searched through her call history and raised a brow. "Unknown number. 17 missed calls?" The redhead glanced up at the two boys. "Did you guys catch a name on the caller id?"
Bradley shook his head. "We were to busy trying harmonize with Mr. Draco's tuba."
Melissa's phone buzzed once again, and this time she was able to catch the name on the caller id. "Monty M.G.! He just sent me a text!"
Milo and Zack's eyes widened. "What?"
"Who?" Bradley and Mort asked.
"Someone who's been texting Melissa in secret." Amanda stage whispered. Mort's eyes widened slightly. "Am I the only one who heard how that sounded?"
Melissa, Milo, and Zack ignored him as the redhead opened the message. 'Room 203, by the leaky water fountain. Meet me there asap.' The three friends exchanged a quick look before making a beeline for the door. "Where are you three going?"
"We got an update on some intel!" Melissa called back to her friends, opening the stage door and rushing out into the hallway.
"Tell Mr. Draco we'll be back in fifteen minutes." Zack told them, following close behind.
"If we're not back by then, tell our story!" Milo called chipperly as he shut the stage door with a loud bang, causing it to fall off of its hinges and crash to the floor.
Amanda, Bradley, and Mort stared in slight surprise at the door. Mort turned to his friends and asked, "Seriously, did you guys here that 'texting in secret' thing or was it just me?"
"Oh no, I heard it too." Bradley assured him.
"I heard it right after I said it…" Amanda said.
–A few second later, near the leaky water fountain.–
The trio skidded to a stop in front of the leaky water fountain—the one thing in the entire school that never seemed fixed, whether due to Murphy's Law, lack of funding, or just general laziness—and scanned the area, looking for anyone who might be Monty M.G.
Zack, being the voice of reason that he is, frowned nervously. "What if this was all a trap and we're about to be kidnapped or something?"
Melissa, being the agent of chaos that she is, scoffed. "C'mon, Zack, who would want to kidnap us?"
Milo, being truly the only calm person in this situation that he is, continued to glance around. The hallway was quiet. The only groups here were the high school basketball team practicing for the away game next weekend and the middle school drama club. Yet those groups were both in the same wing of the high school, which compared to their current location, was practically on the other side of the high school.
To his right, the leaky water fountain's nozzle and guard snapped off and fell to the ground, causing a stream of water to shoot out past Milo—who sidestepped it to avoid ruining his costume. A cry of surprise came from the end of the darkened hallway.
"Hello? Who's down there?" Melissa called out, calmly ignoring the stream of water a mere foot from her.
"Turn it off! Turn it off!" A male voice pleaded. Milo rummaged around in his backpack and found a small role of silver duct-tape. He ripped off a small amount and slapped it onto the broken fountain, temporarily fixing it.
"You're good, mysterious stranger." Zack gave a thumbs-up towards the darkened end. The trio heard footsteps approaching and watched anxiously as a teenager with brown hair and unibrow stepped out from the shadows, soaking wet.
"I was not expecting you kids to have water guns," The man said, half-joking, "or I would've come prepared."
Milo smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Murphy's Law." The boy reached into his backpack and pulled out a towel and handed it to the newcomer.
"Are you Monty M.G.?" Melissa asked, holding up her phone. "The one who's been texting me?"
The man nodded. "You guys can just call me Monty. I work for the O.W.C.A, the Organization Without a Cool Acronym."
Zack furrowed his brows. "O-W-C—wow, that really is an uncool acronym."
Monty chuckled. "Yeah, I didn't name it. Thanks for coming on short notice… though I feel like there's a dress code memo I missed out on."
The children looked down at their costumes and laughed. "We were rehearsing for a play."
Monty smiled and handed the towel back to Milo. As the boy started to fold the towel, Monty's face became more somber. "I'm glad I was able to get ahold of you guys, but I wish it was under better circumstances…"
"So… what is going on? Is something wrong with that Brick guy I recorded? Did he go rogue or something?"
Monty shook his head. "I don't know about him going rogue, heck I've never even met the guy, but I know that he's apart of something bigger and more dangerous then he might realize. And I think you three are in danger because of it."
"What'd you mean?" Zack asked fearfully.
Monty knelt down to their eyes level. "Have you guys ever heard of TICCs?"
–In the year 2176–
Chip's stomach was tossing and turning, and not just because of the alcohol. He no longer had control. His TICC forced him to press the knife closer to his throat. He was afraid the skin would break any moment now.
"So, Agent Wolowitz, are you ready to continue with the plan?" His TICC asked him.
I'm going to die. Chip realized. I'm going to die, and everyone will think it's because I did this.
"Agent Wolowitz, are you ready to continue with the plan?" His TICC repeated, a dangerous edge to its voice.
This can't be happening, this can't be happening. "Agent Wolowitz." I have to… I have to… "Agent Wolowitz, need I remind you that you do not have a choice in this matter."
Yes I do.
"Wha—?"
"Power down!" The TICC made a horrible screeching noise before it finally powered down. Chip's whole body went limb and he fell to the floor. Panting, he glared at the knife and threw it across the stall. "I… I did it…" The panting turned into small giggle until Chip was rolling on the floor, laughing in relief.
Then he heard it.
"C….. ch…. chip…" Like a faint whisper. "Ch… chip…"
In a panic, Chip hollered, "Power down!" And then silence. But Chip could feel it still. The tiny, almost unnoticeable, buzzing at the very back of his skull. Concentrated into one miniscule spot. His TICC was still there, and while Chip may have stopped it temporarily, it would fight to come back.
He needed to get rid of it. He needed to deactivate it once and for all.
"I need Red Gush." Chip realized. He scrambled to his feet, shoving the stall door open. As he made his way out of the bathroom, he felt himself stumble more than he normally would've, even if he was still a bit tipsy.
"C… chip… ch—"
"Power down!"
And that's how Chip left the bathroom, stumbling and shouting "Power down!", all while thinking: Gotta find Red Gush, gotta find Red Gush, gotta find Red Gush.
–In the 21st Century–
"Ticks? Aren't they those little bugs from the woods that suck your blood and give you Lyme Disease?" Zack asked.
"No, no. I mean TICCs. Tiny Intel Core Computers." Monty clarified.
"Oh," the children chorused, "no, we've never heard of those."
Monty knelt down to their eye level, pulling out a little device. He turned it so the children could see the screen. "Well, do you three recognize him?" On the screen was a picture of Victor Verliezer.
"Yeah, we recognize him." Melissa scowled.
"We exposed him for the credit-hog he is!" Milo told Monty, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Then we're more or less are the reason his company went out of business…" Zack rubbed the back of his neck.
Monty frowned. "Well, then, I guess I know why then…"
"Why what?" Milo asked.
"There's no easy way to say this, so I guess I'll just come out with it," Monty inhaled, "Verliezer's trying to get rid of you three as revenge."
"Ok., when you say, 'get rid of', do you mean 'get rid of you by locking you in a remote location' or 'get rid of… get rid of'?" Melissa asked.
Monty's frown deepened. "The last one." The children gasped and huddled together in fear. "Don't worry! You three are safe, for now. In fact, I think you three might be able to stop him."
The three friends exchanged looks. "How?"
"Verliezer hired a former L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N. scientist named Aloyse Everheart Elizabeth Otto Wolfgang Hypatia Günther Galen Gary Cooper von Roddenstein, aka: Rodney. For a while, the two flew under the radar. Then, a couple weeks ago, an employ of Valentine Verliezer's soda company was rushed to the emergency room. An employee that was very close with one of our operatives" Monty typed on the screen a few times as he continued to explain. "They created a device that allows a computer to take over the host body, giving whoever was in charge of the computer complete control. But something went wrong."
"Wrong how?" Zack asked.
"I'm not sure, but I know the device changed. And it wasn't a good change. Look," Monty handed his device over to the children, "these are pictures and videos of that employee." Melissa clicked on the first video and was shocked to find that, apart from a soda company employee being the main focus, it was identical to the one she took of Brick. The man on screen was writhing in pain, screaming at voices that no one else could hear, and he looked to be having a mental break down.
"What do Verliezer and this Rodney guy have to do with this?!" Melissa asked.
"Don't you three get it, they created the TICC, but something changed."
Milo swallowed. "Do… do you think Brick has something to do with the TICCs and Verliezer?"
"Maybe, I'm not to sure. I do know, however, that there are some signs and symptoms you can look for, sort of keep an eye out for anyone else who's affected."
"Like what?" Zack asked.
"First, the TICC will have been ingested by the victim along with Green Gush for activation. Next, the TICC will have connected to the brain—resulting in that, uh, display—you see on the video…" The kids winced and clicked off the video. Clicking instead onto an image of arms with what looked like neon green tattooed lines up and down his arm. "Then, the victim experiences some type of change in personality, usually very drastic. After that, we get some more physical symptoms. Like green lines appearing on the skin, usually over veins. Finally, when the irises of the victim's eyes change from their natural color to neon green, the TICC and its controller have complete and utter control over the victim."
The three friends were shocked, to say the least. But. They were also worried about this Brick guy. Did he know what he was getting himself into when he got a TICC? Was he forced? They weren't sure. "So, how we can help?"
"I need you three to get in contact with Brick, or someone close to him, and try and get him to deactivate his TICC." Monty explained. "The less people we have affected by the TICC, the better."
"I don't know if we can do that." Zack said. "We're not exactly his favorite people."
"Could you three at least try?" Monty implored. The three friends exchanged uncertain looks before glancing back down at the video of the man being dragged away in a straight-jacket. The friends nodded. "We'll try our best."
"Great! I knew I could count on you three." Monty stood up, about to leave, but paused. "Oh, and a word of advice. You might want to do that soon-ish. That soda employee kind of went insane trying to get his TICC out his brain." The three kids paled, before nodding there heads vigorously. "We'll see what we can do."
"That's all we can do for now. Thanks again." Monty smiled gratefully at the three children. "Oh, and one last thing, you three be careful. Verliezer is after you three after all."
Milo smiled, "Don't worry. We'll be fine."
–Meanwhile, with Savannah–
From inside the auditorium, Savannah heard some kid belting out a song about being alone in a bathroom. She rolled her eyes at the drama of it all, but if she was being honest with herself, she felt as if she was in the same boat as the kid.
Brick had ditched her, Lotte wasn't an upgrade of a partner, and she was the laughing stock of the Bureau. Savannah felt as if she was flying solo in life, and it sucked.
"Hey," Savanna glanced up to see Lotte smiling pitifully at her, "this seat taken?" Savannah sighed but scooted over to let her new partner sit down. "Thanks."
"Meh," was Savannah's reply. She looked over Lotte and raised a brow. "You look like hell."
"I just had a bad migraine. I'm coming down from it now, though."
"That's nice," Savannah said curtly. After a moment of silence, Lotte spoke up.
"Look, I wanted to apologize." She said. "I know I've been kind of hard on you today…"
"Kind of?" Savannah asked harshly.
"Ok, ok, harsh is putting lightly. But, it's just because… well, you remind me of myself from a few years ago."
"Really?"
"Yeah. You start out Time Traveling thinking you can save the world and then a little down the way, you actually do kind of save the world." Lotte smiled wistfully, as if recalling fond times. Then her expression turned bitter. "Then out of nowhere, someone close to you, someone you thought you could trust just utterly blindsides you and the next thing you know you're downgraded to second class. A laughing stock! And there's nothing you can do except watch from the sidelines as the one person you thought you could count on steals the one thing you wanted most in the world."
Savannah frowned. "I get the feeling you're speaking from experience."
"I got screwed over big time," Lotte confirmed, "and I don't want to see that happen to you. But, I think I know something that can help." The green-haired woman reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small, gray, oblong pill and handed it to Savannah.
"What the hell is this?" Savannah asked.
"It's called a TICC. A Tiny Intel Core Computer." Lotte explained.
"Did you just hand me some weirdo drug?"
"No! No, it's not a drug. It's kind of like… a little helper."
"… So it's like a steroid?"
"It's not a steroid either." Lotte deadpanned. "Look, when I was in the same funk, I took a TICC and now look at me, I'm all better!" Savannah looked between Lotte and the TICC in her hand, unconvinced. Lotte sighed. "I'm not saying you have to take it, I'm just saying that if you do, it'll be a big help… But if you do decide to take it, take it with Green Gush. Just trust me on that, kay?" The green haired stood up, saying that she was going to go close up the Pistachio Cart. Savannah nodded, staring at the pill in her hand, unsure of what to do.
–Meanwhile, in the year 2176, with Cavendish and Dakota–
Cavendish had to admit, Dakota cleaned up rather well. The dress shirt and bolo tie looked ravishing on him. Their date night had gone wonderfully. First they had gone to see a play then Dakota took him out to a nice Chinese restaurant. And after much debating and insisting, Dakota had paid for the meal, although Cavendish convinced his partner to let him get the tip. Now they were just sipping wine in the restaurant, waiting for the waiter to come back with Dakota's change.
"I had fun, Cavendish." Dakota told him, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze. Cavendish smiled and squeezed his hand back.
"As did I Dakota. I do hope we can do more things like this tomorrow."
"Oh, definitely. Definitely!"
"But this time I'm picking up the check." Dakota made a face and the two men shared a laugh. Suddenly, Cavendish's phone started to ring. The older man furrowed his brow in confusion, reaching into his pocket to dig for his phone. When he pulled it out, his eyes widened in surprise. "It's Milo."
"Everything ok?" Dakota asked.
"We'll find out." Cavendish told him as he answered the phone. "Hello? Milo is everything ok?"
"We need you and Dakota to come to the 21st century as soon as you can." Milo told him. "Melissa, Zack, and I could use some help."
"Is everything ok?" Cavendish repeated. "Are you alright, my boy?"
"I'm fine but… It's Brick."
"What about Brick?" Dakota raised a confused brow and Cavendish could only shrug.
"He's in trouble. Big trouble! Do you think you guys could come help us?" Cavendish frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then Dakota squeezed his hand comfortingly and then man smiled slightly.
"We'll meet you three at your house tomorrow, alright?"
"Great! See you then, and, thanks."
Cavendish smiled. "It's no problem, Milo. See you then." As Cavendish hung up his phone, Dakota raised a brow. "Everything ok?"
"Yes. We're going to help Milo and his friends with a problem tomorrow."
"What kind of problem?"
"Believe it or not, it has something to do with Brick."
"Huh." Dakota said. "I don't believe it, but I am more than willing to hear the little rascals out." Cavendish smiled at his partner, feeling incredibly lucky to have found a man like Dakota.
–In the 21st Century–
Savannah glanced down at the pill in her hand, frowning. She couldn't believe she was about to do this. The Green Gush bottle fell to the bottom of the vending machine with a dull clunk. The first-class agent sighed, cracking open the cold bottle. "Here goes nothing." She popped the TICC into her mouth and took a swallow of the Green Gush, nose wrinkling once the taste of the soda hit her tongue. After swallowing the TICC and some Green Gush, Savannah pulled a face. "God, that soda sucks!"
Then, out of nowhere, a sharp pain in her head left her falling to the floor, screaming in agony and in confusion at the robotic legion of voices that suddenly appeared in her head.
Can you guys tell that I rushed to finish those last, like, five pages? Well, at least it's done! Long car rides offer the perfect opportunity to finish products with little distractions.
Now, I'm back at school and the schedule's a bit more challenging than last year and with the holidays coming up, I have no idea when I'll get the next chapter updated. I will say that it will be sometime around New Year's though. I plan on finishing this story soon. Especially since we only have about five chapters left.
Until then, hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't forget, reviews give me life!