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“Jimmy- Jimmy come on man!”
Ken’s voice rang from the backseat, but Jimmy didn’t register it. He was too busy slamming his forehead into the steering wheel, not even caring that it was setting off the horn like a dying goose.
This was supposed to be an easy mission.
All they had to do was investigate a high-priority tip about a suspicious town, one that had been flagged in some deeply questionable shadow government chatter. A town that apparently was capable of selling enhanced weaponry yet was absolutely untraceable, as every time someone stepped into it, it simply didn’t exist. Wiped out of their minds, existing only in theoretical maps and energy signatures.
All of this was theoretically fine.
They had to jump through a bureaucratic labyrinth just to get location intel. Also fine.
The records were encoded in a cipher only a hypercomputer could crack. Less fine, but they managed - until a rogue hacker decided to torch the communication grid out of spite, leaving them without Atlas tech support. Which meant they’d lost all remote tracking, maps, and mission intelligence.
But at least - at least - Ken had one working energy signature detector, their last hope of narrowing down the search.
Until Jimmy had to swerve to avoid an oncoming truck, and Ken - bless his gorilla-sized reflexes - crushed the detector mid-brace.
Finally, the light shone through. He saw it. The final straw.
Not that Jimmy blamed Ken. It wasn’t his fault. If anything, it was Jimmy’s for not having a backup. But none of that changed the fact that their situation had officially devolved into absolute comedy.
Thirteen hours of nonstop desert driving. No tech. No AC. Three days of underwater travel just to dodge SHIELD satellites. All culminating in a heatstroke breakdown in a car that smelled like melted pure regret.
Slowly, Jimmy raised his head from the wheel, jaw tight, head raging.
“Buckle up,” he snapped.
He hit the gas so hard Ken barely managed to strap himself in before the car lunged forward.
Okay. New plan.
Or more accurately: no plan. Just a prayer to whatever god or goddess owed them a favor.
They needed a miracle. Or cold water. Or a lead. Or a convenient supernatural event to drop a map in his lap. Barring that, he’d settle for a working vending machine.
So when a gas station finally appeared like a desert mirage, Jimmy swerved in without thinking. Worst case, he’d buy a bottle of water and consider killing himself.
He was halfway out of the car when he stopped in his tracks.
There, crouched beside the vending machine, was the weirdest kid Jimmy had seen. Skinny, dirty, bruised, and coaxing a literal coyote to drink from a bottle cap.
What the fuck.
The kid’s shirt was covered in dust, his hair a mess, and there was something about him, he looked nervous- too alert, too wired, and for one goddamn second, he considered turning around and pretending he hadn’t seen any of this.
But Ken looked half-melted in the backseat, and Jimmy’s blood sugar was at war with his last functioning nerve.
He cleared his throat. “Hey, kid!”
The boy blinked at him. Then at Ken. Then at the Frankenstein car they’d pulled up in. His eyes narrowed.
“What the fuck do you want from me now?” the kid growled.
Now? That was an intentional choice of words.
Jimmy blinked. “Uhhh…” he raked his brain “directions?”
If this ended with him having to run away from a teenager with a glass bottle in a gas station parking lot, so be it.
The kid stared, then gave a slow, theatrical smile, a beautiful indication that he was up to nothing good.
“How important are those directions to you?”
Jimmy, sunburned and on the verge of throwing himself into traffic, replied without thinking: “Considering we’re in the middle of the desert? Pretty important.”
The smile widened. “So you’re lost in the desert. That’s tragic. I’d say that’s worth… twenty bucks.”
He was extorting him.
The child was extorting him.
Jimmy groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Price just went up to thirty,” the kid said cheerfully.
“You know you’re pretty young to be robbing people in day light” he all but spat out.
The shaggy haired kid just shrugged “hey the relativity of the price is dependant on your desperation, not my knack for a steal. Don’t blame me, blame your capitalism Mr Suit”
Great. An extorting child that was also a socialist.
Ken’s voice rang out “Come on, man. It’s not like you’re short on cash.” Ken’s voice, as always, the unintentional gasoline to the fire.
The kid looked past Jimmy at the talking gorilla and absolutely lit up.
“Holy shit,” he said, grinning wide. “Talking gorilla.”
“Technically a man that’s a gorilla,” Jimmy corrected on autopilot.
“Semantics,” the kid shrugged, he continued “You guys headed toward Excello?”
What?
“What made you say that” he glared back at the kid.
(Wonderful he’s now not only the evil buisness man in a suit but also the man that glares at children)
“Call it a hunch” he gave him a toothy grin, the smallest gap between his two front teeth.
Jimmy stiffened. “If, and if, we were heading towards Exello, would you know the way?”
The kid hummed, studying Jimmy’s face with a focus that made his skin crawl. Then, his whole posture shifted.
“Okay. Price change. I don’t need the twenty anymore,” he said, standing. “Plus, you’re getting a bonus.”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “And the catch is?”
“No catch,” the kid beamed. “I’m giving you live directions.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve actually been meaning to hitch a ride there myself.” He dusted off his pants, the coyote padding along beside him. “Salieri Yoon. Pleasure to meet me, I’m sure.”
That was absolutely not his name, but this was a problem for future Jimmy.
-
When the water finally settled into his stomach Jimmy gained enough of a sense of reality to realize that they were in a car with highly classified information thrown all over and a nosey new guy that decided to tinker with a device worth over a couple million.
“Put that down” he hissed “it’s not your game boy”
“Hmmmm” the kid ignored him seemingly connecting the game boy to the- oh what the hell is this Yoon guy doing!
“Put that down it’s not gonna give you a new game” he hissed trying to grab it, but the kid pulled away, actually sticking his tounge out at him.
Jimmy slammed his head into the wheel again, the loud beep it let out only adding to his agitation.
“Chillax man I’m just looking” came the annoying voice. Perfect. Whatever it’s not like he would even be able to understand what the tech was or what was on it.
Whatever.
Ken seemingly decided to be of no help just asked “So Saleiri, your parents big fans of classical music?”
Something in the kids eyes dimmed but the smile stayed, he and Ken made a brief moment of eye contact. He made a mental note of difficult family history, a pang of guilt made its way through his chest. The kid barely looked older than sixteen.
“Nah they were just Methodists” he chose to reply, the joke flying over both of their heads “anyways, where’s your map?”
They both blinked at him.
“I thought you knew the directions” Ken asked clearing his throat.
“Well I do but we gotta get to the bus station first” he chirped.
Jimmy hand his hands through this hair “Bus station…? We have a car” a car they would have to replace later on and wipe some people’s minds over but they still had it.
“No one can get to Excello by car” Salieri looked at him like he was dumb, stupid kid probably thought he was dumb “everyone knows you’ve gotta take the bus”
“Take the bus” Jimmy repeated quietly “okay then take us to the bus station”
“Gladly” the kid smiled, leaning back in his seat and placing his legs over the dashboard.