New Mexico / June, 1958 / 02:24

[bingo_faced]

Nighttime.

The desert cooled greatly at night, especially nights as clear as this one. Lieutenant (J.G.) Al "Bingo" Calavicci wouldn't know the difference. Half the bottles lay strewn in the dirt while the other half were placed precisely, a practical lineup on the white edge line of the road. Off the road, in the dirt, Al's candy apple red

Comments

[anekanta]

Kara felt almost unbearably light, joyous even. She'd just given over at last, putting a sudden end to all of her struggles. She closed her eyes, told Lee not to follow, and let go just like that

[bingo_faced]

Bingo thought he was a goner. Or that the whole of whatever had come down on top of his car and he might as well be a goner. He thought about how he'd just paid the sweet thing off and groaned to himself. What adrenaline had pumped into his system must have gone because he was crestfallen and already thinking about the long walk back to civilization. None of the thoughts held, however, because Al heard sounds of rustling that were not coming from him.

When he looked up, the car was still there. "Lisa..." It came out feeling like relief. He would have celebrated, but an angry, unexpected noise cut through the desert. The Lieutenant ducked and patted at the ground in search of his sunglasses, which would prove neither useful or practical considering the situation

[anekanta]

The sound of a voice made Kara spin around, startled. She couldn't make out the words, but a voice at all was strange enough. Where was she, anyway? She looked around again, this time taking in the surroundings that were not on fire thanks to her unceremonious arrival. The landscape was familiar enough - or at least, familiar enough that she could have called it a 'desert.' It seemed to have all the earmarks of the pictures she vaguely remembered from fifth-grade geography books. So if this planet had plants growing on it (even if it was just prickly, mean-looking succulents), and it had people, then... no. She wouldn't let herself start thinking that. Not yet at least

[bingo_faced]

Air Force? Now it made at least a little more sense. Bingo straightened up and offered a salute. "Lieutenant, Junior Grade Albert Calavicci, sir. U.S. Navy," he filled in, because he wasn't entirely convinced she was military. Then again, he wasn't exactly holding on to his full faculties at the moment. She certainly stood command like a military woman.

"Are you... hurt?" Al leaned to one side trying to understand her flight suit. It looked different. "That experimental or something?" He nodded out past her as if to illustrate. Okay, so maybe he was speaking out of turn, but it wasn't like the circumstances weren't already strange. "Sir," he added, as an afterthought.