- Lizzie
- Richard
- Tom
- Norval Joe
- Serendipidy
- Duane
- Justin
- Tura
- Planet Z
RICHARD
Road trip
It was going to be the road trip to end them all: Terry in the driving seat, me riding shotgun, and the two girls in the back. Open top convertible, open road and open to any opportunities that came our way.
Day two saw us pulled over on the side of the road, smoke pouring from the engine, and the girls at each other’s throats after being forced to sleep in the car overnight.
Another three weeks of this, and I’d go stir crazy.
I grabbed my bag, thumbed a lift from a passing truck, and left them to it.
LIZZIE
Sitting in the back made him feel sick, very sick.
The vehicles were old and made out of scrap, the rusted parts an adventure each time they bumped against a rock on the road. Plus, it didn’t help that all the guys drove like lunatics.
When he was promoted to sitting in the front, he couldn’t be happier. No more snarky remarks about how green he looked. He was free!
When that unidentified piece of metal poked his right eye out, the first thought that crossed his mind was “it doesn’t matter, green no more!”
Priorities, yes, priorities are paramount!
DUANE
“Shotgun!”
“Ned, you’re forgettin’ the first rule of Shotgun,” drawled Pete.
Ned was looking down at his feet. “But I called shotgun.”
“To call shotgun you have to bring a shotgun. That’s why it’s called riding shotgun. Jenny and Earl brought theirs. It wouldn’t be fair to them now would it?”
Ned blushed. “No, I reckon not. I’ll be right back.”
After a few minutes Ned returned with his old double-barreled coach gun.
“Shotgun!,” shouted Ned and Jenny in unison.
“Looks like we have a tie,” said Pete.
“Heads!”
“Ned, you can’t call heads when we don’t have a coin.”
JUSTIN
Stagecoach Interstellar, Starbound Division delivers to everywhere in the system. I’ve got one more mission then I’ll transfer to the Galactic Division, which travels system to system, much safer because they only transfer from depot to depot.
I’m in the defense turret, and for the first time in my career, I’ve got enemy fire coming at me, space package pirates! Watching a real missile blasting towards you isn’t the same as in the simulator.
I activate the Rober-Chaff system, and hope the missile gets deterred. It works! But not against the direct fire.
I hope the puncture auto-seal works too.
SERENDIPIDY
We’re going to play a little game I call ‘riding shotgun’.
You see, I have this shotgun, and…
Well, you can probably guess where this is going, right?
Don’t go whimpering about the inhumanity of my actions.
You should have thought about that, all those years ago, when you imprisoned me in your cellar, tortured me, and raped me at gunpoint.
The press called you a sexual deviant.
As for me…
I’m just a deviant.
Made that way, by you.
So, shut up, drop your trousers, and please take a seat.
It’s going to be one hell of a ride!
TOM
Not Quite Dibs
“I want to ride shotgun,” pleaded Sam. “Nup,” counter Ben. “WWWHHHHY?”
“Well for starter. Your slow, stupid and damn distractive.” “But I’m your
cousin.” “And that would be a fourth. Not going to happen Sam. Let it go,
now. Get inside and let your mom up.” Sam stepped. Her mom stepped up. She
double cocking her Henery’s loading gate and took a seat. “Do too so sad,
love. You can ride up front on the trip back,” said Mary as she pinched
his check. Sam hated that went she did that. “Here,” she said tossing a
Winchester to him, “stay sharp.”
NORVAL JOE
Two weeks later, Billbert and his parents headed for their new home. His mother stretched out in the back seat of the minivan, allowing Billbert to sit in the front passenger seat and watch in the side mirror as his hometown faded from view.
Billbert sighed. “Why do we have to move to Eureka? I mean, besides it being isolated, miles from anything…”
His father kept his eyes on the road. “The agency has an office there, set up in a drug rehab facility. Your mother and I will both have jobs where we can help people improve their lives.”
TURA
Riding shotgun
———
A superintelligent AI would kill us all in the first few minutes. As the saying goes, we are made of atoms that it wants for another purpose. But the economic promise of safe AI drives us to experiment anyway.
Someone chats with the AI in an isolated room, with me riding shotgun. If the AI persuades the tester to let it out, I hit the panic button, the AI stops, and we move the tester to a padded cell for debriefing.
Sometimes, there’s no way to deconvert them. Then we use actual shotguns. It’s the only way to be sure.
PLANET Z
Every time we go to the keg store, Bud calls SHOTGUN and jumps in the front passenger seat.
And when Bobby wrecked the van into a telephone pole, that’s where they pulled Bud’s body from.
We got knocked around a bit in back, the keg breaking Ricky’s arm and me getting a cut on the forehead.
And Bobby took the steering wheel to the chest, even with the air bag going off, but Bud was a goner.
Bobby got a new van, named it Bud.
When we go to the store, we strap down the keg, and nobody calls shotgun.