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Ollie tried not to panic when the engine stopped. On the bright side, “This pod seems very safe,” would be some pretty funny last words. But there were a lot more words he wanted to say in the future, so he’d try to survive.
He was probably too far away from the lab for that person (an EOD agent?) to notice and rescue him. If he had a radio, he wouldn’t have been at the bottom of the ocean for so long in the first place. He was on his own. Again.
But he couldn’t panic. Panicking wasn’t good for oxygen supplies. What calmed him down? Usually water, but at the moment, that was the problem. He’d always found legalese and paperwork strangely relaxing. He started counting OSHA violations. He knew there’d be a lot, because he’d ignored a lot of them the entire time he’d worked for Zoraxis.
Ollie was about to start working on the engine when he heard a couple cracking sounds. The pod was small enough that he could feel the water droplets hit his feet and arms. The windows had cracked. Water was slowly trickling in.
Ollie started looking for glue, or maybe tape? But the escape pod was empty. It wasn’t just missing adhesives, it was entirely empty.
It was then that he realized the pod was never meant to save anybody.
His heart sank.
An idea struck him. Ollie reached into his pockets and pulled out a pack of Zoraxis brand Almond Flavored Gum-Type Substance. He’d chewed a piece of it earlier, before reading the ingredients and discovering it was actually bitter almond flavored. (That was more of an FDA violation than an OSHA one.) He’d still kept it, just in case it ended up being all the food he had.
He held a piece under one of the leaks to get it wet. Then he mixed it up with his hands. Finally, he stuck it in between the cracks of the glass.
It worked! It actually worked! Ollie quietly cheered before fixing up the other leaks.
Strangely, Ollie didn’t panic at all when the gas was released. The combination of adrenaline, oxygen deprivation, poisoning, and his overall exhaustion, kept him from really processing the situation. He led agents through this sort of thing all the time. It was just a normal day at work to him.
His car windows wouldn’t roll down and the doors wouldn’t open. That wasn’t good. But he knew there was a gas mask in the glovebox. It was one of his agent’s. Or maybe it was Phoenix’s? He couldn’t remember. Too much brain fog. He grabbed the mask and put it on.
He could tell the gas was running out, so he didn’t need to bother stopping it. He just needed more ventilation. His glove box was already open, so he searched it a bit more. He found a screwdriver, which wasn’t ideal for the situation, but it’d work.
Ollie held the screwdriver backwards and slammed the handle into the corner of the car window. He wasn’t very strong, so it took him a few tries, but it gave way soon enough. Once the first crack was there, it wasn’t too hard to break more of it.
Ollie managed to break about a quarter of the glass before his arms went limp. He moved his arms away from the sharp glass as soon as he noticed them going numb. The screwdriver rolled onto the floor.
The physical effects of the poison were starting to get to him. On the bright side, as the last bit of gas poured out of the car, the mental effects cleared a bit.
It was then that Ollie realized what was actually happening. He’d gotten into his car — not an agency vehicle, his personal car — and poisonous gas started releasing from the AC. It was his day off too. Zor had apparently managed to find information on his normal, non-EOD life. That wasn’t great.
Straining to move his arm, he tried to tune his car radio to an Agency signal. But all signals were jammed.
Oh, and the second he turned the dial, a ticking sound came from it.
No one would think to look for him there, especially not on his day off, and he couldn’t call for help. He was alone. Again. He used to be alone all the time. But, recently, he’d begun to forget what it was like.
He didn’t really have time to dwell on that though, since the bomb was still ticking and everything.
Ollie patched up the last leak. It was by no means a perfect repair job, but it did the trick.
The leaks hadn’t been too bad, so there was no need to bother draining the pod. That being said, Ollie was now sitting in a shallow pool of ocean water. It was getting his socks wet. He hated wet socks. And it certainly wasn’t making the cramped space any more comfortable. He’d just have to suck it up for the moment.
Now that there wasn’t such an immediate risk of drowning and/or sinking, it seemed like a good time to restart the engine.
He looked around a bit to find what the problem was. The engine wasn’t actually damaged at all (thank goodness) but it was out of oil. He knew one of the pipes in the pod pumped oil. It must’ve been clogged or something, but he could still get some from there. But in order to do that, he’d have to break the pipe.
First he hit it a few times to flatten it out. Then he bended it back and forth where it had been flattened to wear it down. After a while, it snapped. He’d never been more grateful for Zoraxis’s terrible quality in his life.
He turned the broke pipe over the engine and allowed the gasoline to flow into it.
“Warning,” said a robotic voice, “oxygen tank is broken.”
As the smell of gasoline filled his senses, Ollie took back his earlier gratitude. Zoraxis’s terrible quality was terrible.
(It was around this point he lost track of the OSHA violations. It was hard to count while oxygen deprived.)
There wasn’t any good way to get the oxygen working again. So, once it had enough fuel, Ollie turned the engine on and hoped the escape pod would make it to the surface before he suffocated.
It almost didn’t. He almost passed out. But just when hope seemed lost, he made it to the surface, and the top of the escape pod opened.
He gasped. Fresh air filled his lungs as the pain in his chest faded. The air had the comforting smell and taste of salt water. It was the greatest feeling in the world.
But his happiness didn’t last. As he breathed and found himself able to think straight again, he realized he didn’t have a signal flare or anything. The chances of a boat or a random airplane being nearby were already low, and if there was one, he had no way of getting its attention.
Zoraxis never made a bomb without some way to override it. That would just be stupid. Zor, The Fabricator, and Solaris had always relied on the “fact” that they’re smarter than everyone else. Surely, no one would be able to figure out what the override was.
There was some truth to that. Agents typically didn’t use the overrides, because taking advantage of design flaws was just easier. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t find it. And it certainly didn’t mean Ollie couldn’t find it. And he was too weak to dismantle the radio and start cutting wires, so he didn’t have any other choice.
Think. The bomb activated when he tried to adjust the radio frequency, which meant the dial had to connect to the bomb and its activation somehow. That meant it could probably be used to deactivate it too.
It was likely to be some sort of number code. Tune the radio to the right station and the bomb would stop ticking. But Zoraxis also loved traps, so if he got the code wrong… well, the ticking would still stop, technically. But it was best to avoid that outcome.
But what would the code be? A word written in some sort of Caesar cypher maybe? But what would the Caesar cypher be, and what would it spell?
Hold on… Zoraxis loved codes that were always changing. Like the time! But just the current time would likely be too easy, especially if it was a trap set for him. Maybe it was a few minutes after or before the current time, but it was probably just the time in a completely different time zone.
If Fabricator made the bomb, and she probably did, it was safe to assume that it would be the time zone of a location related to him, The Agency, or Zoraxis. She always liked that sort of dramatic flare.
Could it be the time in New Zealand, where the underwater lab was? It definitely could be, but that seemed a bit too obvious.
There was that warehouse they sent Phoenix to on their first mission together, maybe Zoraxis realized that was him? Where was that again? Oh, right. Also New Zealand. Scratch that.
Zoraxis was also keeping tabs on 13, to an extent, at least. Where was their first mission—
Ok, the ticking was speeding up. He didn’t have time to think through every mission he’d ever helped with. What were the most important ones? Were there any events other than missions Zoraxis would care about?
Think! Think! THINK!
THE BOMB! OF COURSE! Not this one, but the other one! The one that’d been in an Agency HQ. The one that led to Zor finding out about his new job. The one that kicked off the chain of events that led to this situation. Where had that HQ been?
WYOMING!
He was able to calculate the time in Wyoming surprisingly quickly. He entered it as the station number. The ticking stopped. He held his breath.
…
Nothing.
NOTHING!
He pumped his fist in the air and accidentally punched the car roof. It hurt. His arm then immediately fell back to his side, fatigue from the poison overtaking him again.
He did it! He actually did it! He correctly guessed the code! Sure, part of it was luck, but he wasn’t complaining. Good luck was good!
But once the excitement wore off he realized he was still in the car. Nothing was actively slowly killing him or ticking down, but as long as he was stuck in the death trap, he wasn’t really safe. And now it was really sinking in that he couldn’t call for help.
Ollie wasn’t sure if he’d be rescued or not, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be. Who could possibly know that he was out there? Who would care that he was out there?
Zoraxis knew he was out there, but they wouldn’t help him. They wanted him dead. They likely thought he was already dead at the bottom of the ocean.
Maybe The Agency knew he was out there, but did they really care enough to realize he was? Probably not. That agent probably forgot about him as soon as they left.
He didn’t have many friends, and he had a complicated relationship with his family. If any of them noticed he was missing they couldn’t and wouldn’t do much about it. Besides, Zoraxis might make up some excuse for why they haven’t heard from him lately. Maybe they already did.
So he was alone. Unless miraculously an airplane spotted him and cared, he’d starve eventually. At least he got to starve in the fresh air now, and he got to die defying the evil company he’d worked for. It was better than starving in the lab.
It hurt, though. To have hope and then have it taken away.
Ollie wanted to stop his thoughts from spiraling, but it was hard, because all he had was his thoughts.
And it was funny, he thought, how easily he’d gotten used to only having his thoughts. How easily he’d gotten used to loneliness.
Loneliness was awful. Loneliness was an ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away. But he’d lived with that ache so long it was almost comforting. It felt familiar and safe to know he’d pass away here and no one would ever know.
He closed his eyes and accepted his fate.
He wasn’t sure how long it was before the Agency helicopter found him.
Ollie was still struggling to move thanks to all the gas he’d inhaled. He couldn’t move to escape, he couldn’t call for help, all he could do was think. He hadn’t been trapped with his thoughts like this in a while.
It was funny, he thought, how easily he’d gotten used to having more than his thoughts. How easily he’d gotten used to not being alone.
It’d only been a few months, and already being alone felt alien to him. It was strange not having a field agent to talk to. It was strange feeling helpless. He wasn’t sure how he survived this feeling of loneliness in the past.
And he realized that even now, alone in the car, he was less alone than he once had been. Because if he disappeared someone would notice. If he died here, multiple people would care. He wouldn’t just pass away at the bottom of the ocean while the world moved on. The EOD would notice his absence.
Wasn’t that an odd feeling? To know multiple people would grieve for him?
He waited for the poison to wear off. He was so tired of feeling alone.
And then something unexpected happened.
The door opened.
Someone pulled him out of his car and onto his feet. It was Agent 13. She had her hands on his shoulders.
“OLLIE! Are you ok!?” She asked frantically.
He shrugged. “I’ve been better, but I’m not really injured. Why are you here?”
She pulled blueprints out of her pockets. As she unraveled them, she explained, “I was on a mission, Mason was acting as my handler since it’s your day off, and we were looking through some blueprints in a Zoraxis base and I found this!”
13 finished unraveling the blueprints and showed them to Ollie. It was the plan for how to boobytrap his car.
“I was worried about you,” she continued.
He smiled. “I promise you I’m alright, Agent. My car was boobytrapped but I managed just fine!”
She sighed, half from relief, half from exasperation. “Of course you did. I don’t know why I thought I could save you, when you can save yourself just fine…”
“Actually, you did save me.”
“I did?”
Ollie smiled and took off his gas mask. He held it out towards 13. “I believe this is yours. I was planning on returning it.”
It would seem that even when he was alone, his friends thought of him, and he thought of them. It seemed that he was always surrounded by things that belonged to them. So maybe these days, even when he was alone, he wasn’t really.