The ongoing adventures of Blonsky/Chris: Part 3

[moralimperative]

continued from...

"...but then it turned out it was actually a cop car," Chris really hasn't stopped speaking since they'd set off that morning through the ruins of Harlem towards the interstate, for all that he seems to get distracted every few feet or so by this or that; a lost hubcap, somebody's discarded cell phone, the blown-out storefront of a pharmacy-- he's been scavenging since sunrise, showing no apparent discretion towards what gets stowed away into the gym bag he'd found in the closet of the house they'd holed up in for the night and what gets left behind, "one of those unmarked ones? Anyway, the radio comes on with the ignition." He shrugs, as though that thought explains itself. "But he was a real nice guy, I even got to ride in the front."

Somehow he's conveniently left out the part where "borrowing" a cop car was an integral part of transporting 76 toilet seats and a lamp.

Comments

[moralimperative]

Chris shivers in response, the part of him that had urged run mollified for now. He hums in acknowledgement as he tucks himself back into his pants, hands clumsy in his current blissed-out state, but says nothing more on the subject one way or the other.

Instead, ignoring the fact that he could now sit properly in his seat without trouble, he draws his feet back up onto his seat in order to sit cross-legged. He watches the scenery for a moment, Blonsky for a moment more, and then, at last, he speaks again: "Best guess says 500 miles before we have to either fill up or ditch the car," suddenly on-task as though that lapse in judgement hadn't occurred at all, giving away the fact that he'd been back to doing mental math in that short stretch of silence, "Barring extenuating circumstance."

He shrugs, offering the soldier a look that says 'you'd know better than I would' in that respect.