Codename: The Runner

Chapter 3- Guilt Taste of Mint

Guilt taste of mint.

It could be said that any normal man might have had some sort of negative experience walking in the sun not knowing where you were or where you were going. That they might have succumbed to thirst or heatstroke or at least a mirage. Yes, this could be said about any normal man. However, being one of the empowered and having an extreme allergy to dying the Runner succumbed to none of these things.

For him it was much worse.

He was unable to roll up his jeans and, his shirt was so stuck to him with sweat it felt like an extra layer of skin which only worsened the fact he felt like a sock in a dryer. He was extremely thirsty but dehydration was far too merciful to one of the empowered to kill them. All that and the Runner still couldn't believe he couldn't even have one good entertaining mirage to help him relax a little. Most people might see a nice oasis or one of their wild fantasies but thanks to his curse the Runner only received national geographic and all it showed all day long was sand, tree, and more sand. He hated it but it gave him time to think. He thought long and hard and kept coming to the same conclusion.

"I'll need to fake an Australian accent."

The Runner wasn't sure why he said it out loud, but it did make him feel better. So he took the only logical course of action and began singing aloud. Since as everyone knows singing automatically speeds things up.

#

Chris had seen a lot of things while living in Australia, but never in his entire thirty-five years of life had he ever run across a more peculiar sight than seeing what appeared to be a young man walking down the side of the road in the middle of nowhere singing the wheels on the bus go round and round. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't having a hallucination. Once he was thoroughly sure the tall young man carrying a trench coat. A trench coat! Of all the things to have in the middle of nowhere a trench coat? Once he was sure he wasn't seeing things he immediately decided that the young man on the side of the road must be mad. However mad or not Chris was not one to let anyone wander around so far from civilization without offering them some sort of help.

#

As the runner finished what he was sure must have been his hundredth chorus of the wheels on the bus go round and round he spotted a dusty red pickup truck slowing down behind him. He thought he might finally be having an entertaining mirage, but it was just some kind stranger offering him a ride to the nearest form of civilization.

"You look like you need some help. Do you want a ride?" The tan older gentlemen who looked to be in his late thirties to the Runner offered.

"No what I really wanted was something like an entertaining musical illusion to help me pass the time, but since you're here I'll take the ride." The Runner responded.

Chris had decided that this young man must be suffering from the heat. That or he was most definitely bonkers. Either way the best thing to do would be to get him somewhere he could get something to eat and drink. That or a mental institution. But since he didn't know of any institutions close by he settled for driving to the nearest form of civilization.

"So kid what were you doing out there in the desert all alone?' Chris asked.

"Oh I got into a bet with some drunk guys and I guess they drove off and forgot about me." The Runner said with the worst Australian accent ever heard.

"Right. Well I guess that's the best answer you're going to give me isn't it?"

"Yep." The Runner said.

After they both sat there in silence for about a half hour Chris tried to start a conversation with the strange dark haired kid sitting in his passenger seat. "I never introduced myself." Chris stuck out one hand. "I'm Chris." The Runner shook his hand to be polite but didn't offer his name in return.