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Info
Article: Trucks
Author:lulatred
Translator:L200
This is the first tale in a series that is in development. Each subtitle in this tale (collapsible) has an unique continuation, which is found in a final tale. The continuation of the subtitle "Fire and Mercy" is the tale Warehouse.
I would like to thank everyone who helped by criticizing this article on Discord.
A speed bump that appeared on the way without warning nearly made César throw up his entire breakfast
"Fuck, Santos." Said the corporal, his voice trembling. "Slow down man…"
"I'm sorry, princess." Replied Santos in a mocking tone. "But we don't have all day. The sergeant almost ripped my head off because you took half an hour to get up."
"Oh, go fuck yourself…" Said César, looking out the window, trying to focus on some fixed point on the horizon, but the truck's sway made that task almost impossible. The corporal had already done that job several times. It was simple, it was fast and he was rewarded. But even so, just seeing a match lit made César feel his stomach turn. Maybe it's not even the work itself. To interrogate someone and get rid of the body. He was used to it all. But the smell. That smell made the corporal dizzy every time. "At least the place is close." Thought César, as he closed his eyes to try and get some rest.
"Wake up, César. I'll never let you sleep again, you bastard." Said Santos, while punching his partner in the shoulder. "If we do this soon, there's still time to get the lunch hot."
César slowly pulled his head away from the window, looking around to try to understand where he was. "Canedo." Thought the corporal. The main structure of the plant was just ahead of the truck, on top of a small hill. César took his pistol and file folder from the glove compartment, opened the door, and got out of the vehicle.
The corporal stood for a few seconds, watching the great brick chimney below the cloudy sky. He holstered his gun at his waist and headed to the back of the truck to help his partner.
"Finally." Said Santos. "Let's go."
César took one end of the tarp, lifting it with his companion, to reveal three people lying on the ground. The two soldiers got into the vehicle, and began to lead those men out. After bringing the last of them to their knees on the lawn, César began removing the cloth bags from their heads.
The middle man wore a gray striped suit, a pair of leather shoes, and a red tie, while the two others wore only white tank tops and beige pants, as well as leather sandals.
"So…" Said Santos, removing his rifle from his back. "I think you guys know how this works. The sergeant asked to give you one last chance to tell us where is this."
Santos held out his hand to César, who handed him the photo of the object.
"Well, I can't promise anything, but you guys may escape from becoming barbecue and just end up in a cell. What do you think?"
The men remained silent, staring at the photo.
"Alright, alright. I know the offer wasn't very honest. And it would probably be better to die than go back to the sheriff's hands, wouldn't it?" No answer. "Let's do it like this then, in the utmost honesty, either you say where the fuck is this thing, and I'll shoot each of you in the head right away, or you don't, and then we'll see which one can last longer in the fire. How about that?"
"Who do you think you are?" Said the man in the center. "Do you think that just because your general is in the presidential office, you control everything that happens in the country? You're ridiculous. The three of us are nothing. We already fulfilled our role. And nothing you offer here will change our minds. Next time, how about buying something at the auction instead of trying to destroy it? That way you end up taking something home, and everyone wins."
"Yeah… Maybe you're right. But I don't give a shit. My job is to drive a truck and shoot bastards like you. So, nothing? Well, it's up to you. Come on, César, help me here."
The man in the middle was dragged by the two soldiers towards the plant's furnaces. Arriving at the location, César opened the first hatch, poured the oil inside and helped Santos place the man inside that small place. Then he closed the hatch, accessed the compartment below, and threw a lit match inside.
Within a second, the heat had both soldiers sweating, while screams of agony could be heard from the burning man. The two headed back to the truck, taking the second man to the same destiny.
While taking the third one to the furnaces, he broke his silence. "Please, please don't! Wait, I'll talk, I'll say where it is."
"Oh. It's about time." Said Santos. "Come on, talk."
"It's a warehouse, in the middle of the road, at the 213 with the 153. Warehouse C-08." Said the man. "Now please kill me, don't make me burn, kill me first."
"Goiás?" Asked César, writing down on the file folder in his hand.
"Yes. Yes. Now, please, do it."
"Why did you tell us?"
"You think I owe those guys everything? I was employed. From outside. I don't care what shit they do, I just take the shipment. If I get out of this, they'll kill me, in a way worse than a furnace. And here, if I can choose, I'd rather die fast. Now please. Get it over with."
Santos again removed his rifle from his back, then gave the man a mercy shot. The two soldiers soon placed his body in the furnace, repeating the same process as before.
César stopped for a second, finally noticing the smell that was spreading through the place.
"Let's go, Santos." Said the corporal, feeling the knot in his stomach. "Let's clean this shit up and get the hell out of here."
"What time is it, César?" Asked Santos, lighting a cigarette.
"It's twelve forty."
"Dammit. We're gonna have to make do with a cold lunch. Again."
"I don't even know if I want to have lunch today."
*
*
*
Marcos was sweating profusely, his hand almost slipping off the steering wheel as he constantly pressed the gas and looked at the speedometer, trying to maintain enough speed to get out of that mess and not be stopped by the police.
Amanda was checking the rearview mirror to see if the box in the back of the moving truck was intact.
"Slow down, we've spent most of our money on this thing. I don't want to see this thing breaking down because of some pothole in the road." Said Amanda.
"Fuck!" Responded Marcos in a scream. "I mean… I'm sorry, honey, but for God's sake, didn't you see what happened in there?"
"I saw, Marcos. But we're not there anymore. And this road is empty. We threw almost everything away because of this thing and I don't want to lose it because of some nonsense on the road."
Marcos took a deep breath, hunching his back and gripping the steering wheel with all his strength.
"Slow down, honey…" Said Amanda, before being interrupted by Marcos.
"Look. You know what? I'm even thinking now. What if they stop us? What if they ask what's inside this truck? Huh? What are you going to say?"
"I don't know, Marcos. But if you drive this truck like a person no one will stop us, can you understand that?" Amanda responded in a louder tone, starting to lose her temper.
"Calm down!" Shouted Marcos, looking to the side. "Who convinced me to buy this shit was you! You're the one who convinced me to move states! Who convinced me to…"
"Look at the fucking stree…"
A bus coming in the opposite direction gave Marcos time to just turn the wheel to the right. His slippery hand didn't help to keep control of the vehicle, which soon tipped over to the side of the road, making a few more turns before ending up in a river.
Marcos slowly opened his eyes, to realize he was upside down, trapped by his seat belt. Looking to his left, he could see water rushing in through the holes in the window. On the other side, his wife, motionless.
"Amanda…" Said Marcos, spitting some blood from his mouth. "Are you okay?"
Silence.
"Amanda?"
Water was beginning to fill that part of the vehicle.
"Amanda." Marcos reached out, touching his wife's shoulder.
The water was beginning to touch the tip of Marcos' hair.
"God… God damn it." Said Marcos at last, before the water covered his entire face.
"Central?" Tobias asked over the van's radio.
"Speak up, Delta-25." A man replied over the same radio.
"We have been going for over three hours and there is no sign of any entity involved in the auction. Permission to return to base?"
"Denied, 25. We have at least seven objects being transported right now, by members of two Groups of…"
"Yes, Central. I know about the mission. We're gonna look for them a little longer."
"Excellent."
Tobias looked back, seeing his three companions talking in the back of the vehicle. "And to think there was going to be almost an entire war here…" He thought, disappointed that he couldn't fire his rifle at anyone.
"Hey!" Said Tobias, looking in the rearview mirror. "Lorenzo. Is there another apple back there?"
"Yeah." Replied the companion.
"Give me one."
Tobias took a bite of the apple, refocusing on the road ahead.
"What the…" Heavy tire tracks across the asphalt, tracing a path to the right of the road, where a thin smoke was coming from, had Tobias stopping the van. "Come on guys, everybody out. I think we found something."
The four exited the vehicle, weapons in hand, slowly walking towards the smoke. A few steps down that bump was enough for him to confirm. "A truck." Tobias thought. "But… Civilian?" Maybe it was just a roadside accident, but he needed to confirm. None of the men could last another second in that place.
"Lorenzo, go right. Nando, check the left. Nicolas, with me."
The vehicle was completely destroyed, upside down, with the cabin almost completely submerged in the river that passed ahead. Tobias and Nicolas headed to the back while the rest of the team checked for any survivors.
"Tobias!" Exclaimed Lorenzo from beside the dented cabin. "Two bodies, underwater."
"Reliquary?" Tobias asked.
"No. They look like civilians."
"Leave them there then. Help us here."
As much as the truck's rear lock was destroyed, the general condition of the vehicle made it difficult to open the door. A few minutes passed, before the men managed to open a space big enough for Tobias to enter. Sneaking through the hole, the team leader found himself in front of destroyed furniture, ruined decorations and some rolled up rugs. In addition to, of course, a big, shiny metal box. "Bingo." Tobias thought, dragging the box back to the hole through which he had entered.
Tobias got into the van again, picking up the radio to inform his superiors, before starting the vehicle.
"Central?"
"Speak up."
"We did it."
"How many?"
"One."
"Confirmed?"
"Sale report and terms of use of the Reliquary recovered along the object."
"Excellent."
"Permission to return to base?"
"Granted, Delta-25."
Tobias hooked the communicator back to the radio, sighing in relief. The man started the van, taking the opposite direction of the road, back to where the four came from.
"Hey, Tobias?" Asked Lorenzo from the back of the vehicle.
"Speak."
"Why don't we open this thing up already?"
"Holt shit Lorenzo, how do you ask that every time?"
"I dunno man, it's probably gonna be our only chance to see what's here."
"Do I really have to remind you of the ten reason not to open this box?"
"Okay, calm down. I'm just asking."
"Settle with reading the pamphlet, man."
"Let's see. 'Sales Log 0273. Product: Two…"
"Lorenzo?"
"Yes."
"Read inside your fucking head."
The other men laughed.
"Go fuck yourself Tobias."