Crash and Burn

(none)

(none)

(none)

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:foxtrot]]

[[>]]
[[module Rate]]
[[/>]]

The snow fell, brushed across the sky by the wind. It gathered on the sides of trees, snapping branches under its weight, congealing into ice. Little flecks of salt dotted the road, keeping the ice from creeping in. The stars shone above, speckling the sky next to the waning gibbous moon. The air was white with falling snow, and a deep bitter cold.

A trail of footprints led to the road, then turned back deep into the woods. Human footprints, left behind by someone who should not have been there at that hour, especially during a surprise blizzard.

Lights shone onto the road, illuminating the shadows of the tree trunks. A gentle low sound thrummed into the night. An unmarked black truck drove over the road, spraying salt behind it. This truck carried a large container, built more solidly than it appeared.

The thrumming noise stopped. Ice had built up on a section of the road, where there was a gentle turn. For an instant, there was silence. A soft puff, as the truck made contact with the blanketed snow off the road. A horn shrieked through the air, screaming on instinct rather than purpose. A sickening crunch, the truck mowed down trees as inertia carried it forward. And then, again, there was silence.

-----

//Ow.// Not the most dignified reaction Brian could have had, but it was at the front of his mind. //Hurts to move// his mind screamed at himself as his instincts took over, calmly ordering him to get out of the crunched metal shell. Luckily, the door seemed to be working.

The truck was a wreck. The engine was a smoldering, half-bisected heap of metal. The windshield was cracked, but not shattered. The ground was not so lucky. Shards of ice crinkled under a thin layer of snow as Brian crawled away from the truck and took a minute to check himself. Nothing missing, nothing broken. Definitely some minor cuts and bruises. His left ankle hurt, maybe a sprain? Hopefully nothing internal.

"Brian!" A harsh voice called from near the road. //Davis.// Brian was happier to see the agent than he had ever been before. He and Davis had never been close, but he had never wished for the man to die in a truck crash.

"Yeah?" Brian's voice was strained. His ankle was hurting more and more every minute.

"Can you walk?" Davis' voice oozed authority. The underlying message was clear: //If you can, get your ass here.//

Brian tried to stand up, leaning on an ice coated tree for balance. He slipped and ended up on a knee. "Not really," he called back.

"On my way," Davis sighed and walked down to Brian. "Which leg is it?"

"Left, musta sprained my ankle or something."

**BANG. BANG.** Two loud knocks rang out from the storage unit.

Brian looked at Davis, concerned. "That thing's alive?"

"Yes. You weren't told?" Davis grunted as he helped Brian up and walked him over to the back of the truck, just off of the road.

"I was told it had to be kept warm," Brian said as he sat down, "I thought it would be some kinda virus or something."

Davis gave a tired look at Brian. "A virus would be alive."

Brian nodded his head. "Eh, true. Are we safe from whatever's in there?"

Another **BANG** echoed from the truck.

"Yes. There are other things to worry about."

"Why? Don't we just call for help and wait?"

Davis glowered at Brian. "Do you know why they send me with you?"

"I always thought it was to make sure I don't pocket something."

"Wrong. Well, that's one reason. The main reason I'm here is to guard the anomaly in case something goes wrong." Davis spoke coldly, constantly turning back to look at the road.

"And something's gone wrong."

"What else is this?" Davis angrily gestured at the truck crash.

"Alright. So, who are you guarding it from?" //Does he blame me? I've never seen him like this.//

"GOC, Serpent's Hand, Fifthists, Gamers Against //fucking// Weed, whatever could be out there."

"And those are?" Brian tilted his head, trying to see if any of those names were familiar.

"Groups of Interest. Further details are classified."

"Classified? What if I need to k—" Brian quickly shut his mouth as Davis sent him a stern look.

"You don't. I'm going to make the call now, tell me if you need anything."

"Wait, what am I supposed to do? Just sit?" Brian started palming the snow beneath his hand.

"Hmmm, you're right. If it comes to a fight, I don't want you in my way, you're basically a civilian right now."

"Harsh."

Davis somehow found room in his face to frown. "I'm stating the facts. You're injured, unprepared for combat, and I don't even know that I can trust you."

"You can't trust me?" Brain was taken aback. "We've gone on almost fifteen trips together. Sure, there wasn't much good conversation, but do you really think I'm a double agent?"

"You could be in disguise. Or playing a long game. Whatever the case, I can't discount the possibility you crashed on purpose."

//So, he does.// "You think I meant to crash?"

"I don't know, I just have to plan for everything. Either way, you can't stay here."

"Then where am I supposed to go? We're in the middle of the woods!"

Davis glanced behind Brian. Brian turned himself around to see what Davis was looking at, and saw only the doors into the storage unit. //He can't be serious.//

"I have an idea," Davis said.

-----

The inside of the storage unit was swelteringly hot. Brian's coat had been commandeered by Davis, leaving Brian in just a polo shirt and jeans. The room was bisected by a thick gray metal wall, with a large sheet of glass in the center of it. On Brian's side, there was nothing except him and the door. On the other side was the girl.

It took a while for Brian to make her out through the flames. She was a young woman, just over twenty. Her body was completely made out of flickering fire, making it hard to judge exactly what part was what when she moved. She stared at Brian with a wide-eyed, frowning stare.

//She's probably as scared of me as I am of her.//

For a time, neither spoke nor moved. They merely watched each other, waiting for the other to do something. After what felt like an hour, Brian checked his watch. Seven minutes.

"So, what's the game?" the girl spoke, "You gonna bore me 'til I talk?"

"Huh?" Brian asked.

"Some pretty weird interrogation. Faking a crash, then just sitting and waiting. What's your game here?"

"Faking?"

"That was an actual crash?" the girl tilted her head.

Brian nodded.

"Hmmm. You could be lying. Who are you?"

"Brian."

"So, 'Brian'" the girl made air quotes, "What is it that you do?"

"Uh... I work in the Department of Logistics. I'm a truck driver."

"The Department of Logistics? Is that a part of the Foundation?"

Brian nodded.

"So you're not here to interrogate me?"

Brian shook his head.

"Say it."

"I am not here to interrogate you."

The girl stared at him through the glass, her eyebrows curled. After a moment, she said "Alright, I believe you."

"That easily?"

"I'm pretty good at knowing a lie when I see it."

"Huh."

"So, the crash was real?"

"Yup. Black ice caught me by surprise," Brian shrugged, "I thought these roads were salted better. Flew off at a curve."

"Damn. Is that why you're holding your ankle like that?"

"Yup. Sprained it, I think."

"Ouch."

"You get hurt at all back here?"

The girl shook her head. "Not sure I can get hurt anymore. Haven't felt pain since this... happened to me. Only cold."

"Cold?"

"Like... when I'm not kept in a hot area, everything just feels so cold all of a sudden. Instinct takes over, and I try to warm myself up. Happened when all this started, happened again when your Foundation tried to take me away."

"So you haven't always been like this?"

"No. And I don't know what caused it either. I just woke up one morning like this."

"Weird," Brian noted.

"You're telling me," the girl nodded.

"So, you don't know how this happened? It just did?"

"Well, I might've known once. When I woke up at first I didn't know who I was. Some vague memories have come back since, but it's still a mystery to me."

"Oh."

"Anyways, do you mind if I don't talk about this anymore? I have some pressing questions."

"Uh, sure. Fair warning, I may not be able to answer them."

"Why not?"

"Do you know what compartmentalization is?" Brian scratched at his head.

"Of course."

"Well, they keep me well out of the loop. And there's some stuff I do know that I would probably get in trouble for telling you."

"You can be vague if you wanna be."

"I'll try." Brian shrugged.

"What are they going to do with me?"

"The Foundation?"

"Yeah. Are they going to kill me? Use me? Cure me?"

"I don't really know. They're not gonna kill you, I know that much. From what I know about their goals they would probably try to cure you, or at least keep you safe."

"Oh." The girl rested her head on her hand.

"Not the answer you were hoping for?"

The girl shook her head. "It seems a bit naïve, but I was hoping that they'd have a way to put me back to normal."

Brian sighed. "If they do, I wouldn't know about it."

"Okay."

"Any other questions?"

"Yeah. Why do you work for them? You don't seem like the type."

"What?"

The girl chuckled. "You just don't strike me as some shadow government conspirator."

Brian laughed a little. "No, I guess not. Truth is, I don't really do all that much interesting stuff."

"No?"

"They fill you with messages about being the 'backbone of the Foundation' and 'saving the world', but it never feels like it. I just drive where they tell me. Usually nothing happens at all."

"Never feels like it?"

"Well, I //understand// that the higher-ups need people to move things around, and I guess I take some pride in it. But whenever I think of it as 'keeping the world safe' it just rings hollow."

"What do you like to think of it as?"

"I have a job to do. I do it," Brian shrugged, "Nothing more, nothing less."

"And your job is driving things like me?"

"No, not normally. You're a special case. I was called from my normal route to deal with you."

"Normal route?"

"Transporting some..." Brian took a moment to think, then continued, "magic juice from one place to another."

"Magic juice?"

"Classified."

"And the places you drive it to?"

"Classified."

"Anything interesting ever happen on this route?"

"As you can guess, if there was, it would be..." Brian started.

"Classified," the girl interrupted, then snickered.

Brian smiled. "Yeah."

"What about outside of your job?" the girl tilted her head.

"Hmmm. There was this one time..." Brian began.

-----

"And then he tells me..." Brian stifled a laugh.

"What? What'd he say?" The girl sat in front of the glass, staring intently at Brian.

"He says... 'That is the wrong way to make a smoothie.'"

Brian and the girl burst into laughter.

**Knock. Knock.** Brian turned back to see Davis crack the doors open, and walk in.

"Help is here. Do you need me to get you to a car?" Davis asked, not bothering to look at the girl.

Brian slowly nodded, unsure. "Uh, yeah I think so. Ankle still hurts."

"Alright." Davis helped Brian stand up and began to walk him out of the truck.

As he stepped out, Brian turned his neck to get a glimpse of the girl. She stared at him silently, a soft frown on her face.

Brian nodded goodbye.

The girl nodded back.

The truck doors closed behind the two men.

The sudden shock of the cold almost knocked Brian out. It didn't help that Davis had taken his coat to patrol the outside. As Brian clung to the other man, Davis opened a car door and sat him down. At the other end of the car, Davis sat in the driver's seat. //Warmer in here.//

//Not warm enough.//

A man in a suit tapped on the window of the car. Davis unrolled it.

"The cargo survived the crash?" the man asked.

"Yes. Completely unharmed." Davis answered.

The man nodded, and Davis rolled up the window again. Brian saw two unmarked cars pull up on either side of the truck, followed by a second, unloaded truck.

Davis started the car, sending a slow rumbling through the trees. Brian and Davis drove down the icy road, taking care to not slip on the black ice.

For a few minutes, neither spoke.

Davis broke the silence. "I want to apologize."

Brian turned his head. "Huh?"

"I was cruel to you before. It was a stressful situation for the both of us, and I did not consider you might also be anxious. I was overly suspicious towards you and punished you for simply being there. It was not fair to you, and I regret my actions."

Brian laughed softly and shook his head. "Don't worry, it's fine."

Davis nodded. "Alright."

In the moments of quiet that followed, the only sounds were Davis softly clicking his tongue.

"I realize you may have fraternized with the cargo. Is this going to be an issue?" Davis said.

"What do you mean?"

Davis sighed. "I saw the nod. I know you two spoke. I trust you didn't divulge classified information to it?"

"No, no, we just talked about life stuff. I didn't tell her anything like that."

"//It//. You didn't tell //it// anything like that." Davis spoke sternly.

"What's the trouble?"

"You would do well not to personify the cargo, Brian. It makes this job that much harder."

"I... okay." Brian slumped in his seat a bit. He stared at the windshield, noting the headlights' reflection on the ice in front of them. It reminded him of a sunset on the ocean.

Davis sighed. "Look. If you need me to, I can pull some strings. You'll get a pill that'll make you forget tonight ever happened. No guilt, no internal conflict, it'll all be back to normal."

Brian thought, then shook his head. "No."

"Then you're good?"

"Yeah. Can I just ask one question first?"

"If you need to."

"Are they going to try to cure h—it?"

Davis sighed. "And after asking this question, this won't be an issue for you?"

"Depends on the answer."

"Will knowing that I know the answer is a variable affect your decision?"

"I don't... think so?"

Davis nodded. "They'll try. I don't know if they'll succeed or not, but they'll try."

"And then what happens to it?"

Davis shrugged. "Depends on its condition. Recruitment is a possible option, or it could be relocated."

"Is there any way that it gets to..." Brian stopped himself.

"Go home?" Davis finished.

"Yeah."

"Maybe. It's happened before."

"Is there any way I can impact that decision?"

"No."

"Will I ever find out if they cure it or not?"

"Not likely."

"Damn." Brian sighed.

"Is this going to impact your work? Can you live with this?"

Brian gave his answer.

[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
[!-- N/A (No Images) --]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

Crash and Burn

Module Styles

Inline Styles

Includes

CSS Classes

Page Source