Go | A flash fiction story
23 of đź’Ż
“Try again,” Sprog said with his hand deep in the entrails of the vehicle — he was having a hard time fixing this one.
Bubba pressed the button but the belter didn't show any signs of life. “I didn’t know you were into Thom,” he said from the driver’s seat, frowning.
“Yeah, kinda,” Sprog said, his legs poking out from under the large machine. The belter’s state was deplorable — the bandits weren’t exactly careful drivers.
“Once more,” Sprog said and Bubba pushed the button, again with no response from the belter. “I’m just asking ’cause I don’t know if what you guys have is serious.”
Bubba wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Yeah, no. I mean, we haven’t talked about it but, no, I guess. Whatever.”
“This isn’t working,” Sprog said from under the vehicle. “I’m gonna try the sprocket. Don’t push the button now unless you want me to lose a hand,” he laughed.
Bubba blinked, his finger hovering over the button someone had labeled “go”. Sweat accumulated under his nose.
“I guess I’m gonna try things with Thom, then. I’m more his type than you are, anyway.”
Blood boiled in Bubba's veins. He tried to control the impulse but he couldn’t anymore. He pushed the “go” button.
Sprog rolled out from under the belter and said, “Nope, this thing is dead. The chain tracks help, but you guys can’t just run belters over everything, you know? Hey, Bubba, you can stop pressing the button now.”
< Suspended | Go | Cogs >
