Route 666: Beginning Location [Chase/Victoria]

[Chase]

{Part 1 in a Road Series}

Chase didn't know which of his bright factionmates had come up with this stunt, but gut instincts told him that credit would eventually go to Simplicity. This kind of act fit her sense of humor. It was obvious to the entire group that he and Victoria weren't the most compatible pair; from the moment the sea wench rode off with his prized possession to the second a look of surprise crossed her face to see him walk into the Super 8 behind her, tensions rose whenever the duo occupied the same room.

So when a spontaneous trip to Keystone was mentioned, someone with a cruel sense of irony rigged it so that the rest of the faction (dog included) rode in a separate car while he remained stuck in a vehicle with the traitorous thief. Simplicity will die for this, Chase gritted his teeth as he waited on his bike for the girl to appear. The other had left moments earlier and they needed to follow closely so they wouldn't get lost.

"Yo, five minutes are up!" he called to the open door of one of the rooms at the motel. To emphasize his point, he revved the engine, allowing a thunderous song to bellow through the quiet skies. For a brief moment he considered leaving her behind. With my luck, Jefferson would return to a motel that consisted of nothing but bare furniture and walls. He shook his head in distaste. Victoria seemed to be fond of stealing things, and he wouldn't put it past her to retaliate on a level of extreme proportions.

"Any day now," he mumbled to himself.

[Victoria]

Naturally, on an out-of-the-blue trip as long as this one, she was stuck with the kid--and just the kid. If Simplicity or Adrian were there, it wouldn't have been so bad. It would've been just plain boring with Jefferson, the man took everything so...staightforwardly. He didn't even seem to realize it. But the kid was just plain out annoying. It wasn't that she hated Chase, per se. She liked messing with him, yes, but he always took her jokes seriously. So he had a grudge against her. C'mon, she had given it back, hadn't she? All the fuss over one silly bike. Of course, Victoria had been perplexed that her escapade across Texas had led her to the same location that he would be at. She had some explaining to do after that little encounter, but eventually conceded to returning the "borrowed" possession. And that was being quite generous of her. She considered it a form of collateral for the faction that had given her an occupation. True that she did steal things often, but it wasn't like she was completely ungrateful. It was like being part of a crew, and everyone had to pull their own weight. The least she could do was return the thing. And besides, she in a sense had unlimited money now. Credit card scams were marvelous, although there was nothing quite like the satisfaction of using a stolen object. Even then, it was ridiculous of Chase to be so butt hurt about it for this long. Goodness, it was just a bike. Bloody hell, he acted like she had stolen a part of his soul.

And so, after being on the road, the two hunters found themselves exiting a motel. Chase had "given" her five minutes to pack her stuff and get out. Five minutes was more than enough for a professional. She had told him she was going to use the restroom, but of course, she had other plans in mind as well. It was too bad she couldn't take any large pieces of furniture, because the couch was quite nice, and so was one of the paintings on the wall. She could, however, fit the modern-fashioned lamp into her backpack. It wasn't too big, and it was most certainly not heavy. From outside, she heard Chase's voice hounding her to hurry up. His impatience was clear with the roar of the engine outside that accompanied his call. "Don't rush me, ya' scurvy land freak!" she yelled back, stuffing the lamp in her bag.

And with one swift zip, the lamp was in. It fit nicely in between her clothes and other necessities. Besides, she only carried what she really needed. Always needed to have room for anything that could be potentially stolen. A sly smile crept over her face, and then she walked out the door, only to see Chase sitting on his bike with an unhappy expression plastered under his helmet. What a depressing kid. "Ahh, lighten up, you sour old dog," she said, wrapping one arm around his neck as she hopped on the bike. "Well, what are you waiting for?!" she snapped. "Let's hurry up and go! I don't have all day, you know."

[Chase]

Lighten up? Chase scoffed. He could lighten up, and, as a matter of fact, everything had been peachy keen before Casey had thrown him into this mess. Ever since, his patience and nerves had been tested to the limit. He mentally cringed as she took the seat behind him, not quite alright with the fact that she was sitting on his bike.

Whatever. It was time to go, and sitting her contemplating anything else was unproductive. With a series of habitual moves and a kick to the back, Chase pulled out of the parking lot of the motel. Unfortunately, the leading car had vanished from sight. Probably a good five miles ahead at this rate too, Chase sighed. At least he knew what the final destination was for the group. Keystone, South Dakota. A small bar where a group of hunters would be meeting to discuss who knew what. Yeah, like that ever went well.

He'd done his fare share dealing with other hunters. Generally, the conclusion centered around the idea that large groups of hunters painted a large target sign on any location in which they gathered. Demons and other creatures magically manifested, bent on revenge or eliminating threats in large bundles.

At a stoplight ahead, a familiar truck caught his eye. "There we go," he sighed, relieved that for a moment, something was going right. Maybe this trip wouldn't be such a hassle. With a sharp jerk, the boy changed lanes, following the truck to the onramp and quickly merging with the speeding cars on the freeway.

[Victoria]

This was going to be boring ride. The kid wasn't much of a conversationalist, and he never laughed, or even smiled when she was around. What a poor sport. She looked at the passing cars, mentally marking which ones she'd one day steal. Sports cars were all automatically on her list of course, from the latest Camaro, Ferrari, Jaguar, Viper, Porsche--if it was expensive and popular, she wanted it. But there were a couple other cars on her list too. F-150s, Toyota Camrys, Chevrolet Silverados, all good cars for the black market because of their popularity that year. She didn't particularly feel an attachment to cars though. Seeing as her life had consisted of being at sea, cars didn't exactly have that much of a purpose in her life, other than to earn profit from or to have as sort of collectibles.

As Chase sped to merge with other cars on the freeway, she wished he could've heard her over the roar of the cars around. He'd better not get her killed in the middle of this. He was carrying precious cargo aboard with him--Captain Victoria, feared and respected pirate of the four oceans. If anything happened to her, her crew would be after him in a snap. Even if they did abandon her, they were hopelessly all infatuated with their captain. She had them wrapped around her finger. Of course it couldn't be helped--she was like a goddess at sea. Who couldn't love her in all her good-looking pirate splendor?