Project Cypher, Chapter 4 Fender Bender

In Project Cypher by ESMALeave a Comment

  • ESMA

Somehow against all odds, after disabling the vehicle tracking system, the transport vehicle has avoided being stopped or found by the state police. “We made it,” #66 happily shouted as they neared the interstate bridge that hung over the dark murky waters of the Bear River. The sky is almost dark, but just a hint of light can still be seen over the horizon.

“You really are my lucky star, #017. As soon as we get over the bridge, my people are waiting to transport us,” #66 happily chirped as #017 didn’t react keeping her two eyes on the road. “Unfortunately, I can’t leave any loose ends. You understand, don’t you?” #66 suddenly said pointing the gun at #017.

“Perfectly understandable,” #017 muttered back as she firmly pressed the gas pedal causing the transport vehicle to speed up.

#66 frowns and sternly says, “Slow the transport down, this instant!”

“No can do,” #017 gleefully answered as the transport vehicle gains more speed.

“I will shoot you! Slow down!” #66 roared as his finger tensed over the trigger.

#017 smirks at the statement and in reply takes a hand off the wheel. “Shoot,” #017 cheerfully said to the furious #66, who instinctively fired the gun. An empty loud click is heard as #017 says, “Old man, you really should make sure your gun is loaded before firing.”

#017 points her ready and fully loaded weapon at him. “Goodbye #66.” The gun fires and in that split second #66 sees his life flash before him as the bullet pierces through his brains and splatters through the window

#017 sniffs and points the gun at her shoulder and shoots. Her lips twitch as she feels something hot pass through her shoulder but nothing else. She expertly ties her arm to stop the bleeding. #017 only pauses for a second, before shooting out the driver’s window to match the passenger’s window. The window shatters loudly and violently all over #017, who continues to drive the transport vehicle.

The transport vehicle roars as it gains more speed on the bridge. The speed and the weight of the transport vehicle cause the transport vehicle to begin to move erratically on the road as if the driver was drunk. The cars on the bridge honk indignantly and dive out of the way of the runaway transport. The transport gains, even more, speed as the cars ahead or at the side speed up to get out of the way.

Suddenly a screech is heard as the transport attempts to break but is unable too. The transport vehicle squeals and begins to turn too late, before ramming at full speed with the railing. The transport is still for a moment, suspended in the air. A high-pitched screech destroys the illusion as the railings snap and the transport vault over the railing and plunges into the icy, murky river below.

The vehicles on the bridge come to a screeching halt as several Samaritans and vultures climb out of the vehicles to try to help, while the others reach for their phones to document the event. The group of people on the bridge mutter to each other as the cars begin to pile up and honk. A couple satisfied vehicle owners climb back into their cars and drive off. The traffic on the bridge begins to move again as other original drivers still wait on the bridge for emergency services to arrive.

The sirens are soon heard in the distance, but amidst all the commotion a commandeered motorized bike moves past the site of the bridge accident and onward.


Two hours later, Croix stands much more confidently in front of the Wardens door. With care, he carefully knocks and says, “Sir, good news to report.”

The warden wretches the door open and stares at the Head Guard with wild eyes. “Yes! What’s the good news!” The warden desperately asked. Over his shoulder, the messy ruins of the Warden’s office can be seen in the background through the open door. Wafts of torn paper litter the ground, the Warden’s desk chair is halfway through the window stuck unable to fit through, the curtains have been shredded and to say the least, the Warden’s office was in desperate need of the loving touching hand of an interior designer.

Somewhat cautiously, Croix clears his throat. “Sir, from the preliminary evidence and findings, #66 and #17 had an argument. There was a shootout between the two convicts that resulted in #66’s instant death and #17’s loss of control over the transport vehicle. As a direct result, the transport vehicle crashed into the bridge railings, before plunging into the icy Bear River waiting hungrily below.

The divers have since found the corpse of #66 still inside the vehicle. The corpse of #66 was caught halfway out of the passenger window. As for #017’s corpse, the experts concluded that due to the gunshot, the temperature of the water and velocity of the fall, combined together even #017 would not have been able to survive the accident. The corpse has yet to be found, but the divers are currently working on finding the corpse. But given the strong currents in the area, it may be impossible to find the corpse of #017. The corpse of #017 may resurface onshore in the nearby future or the corpse may be dragged to sea via the currents,” Croix most firmly declared.

“Praise be, God!” The warden stoutly proclaimed. “Good, good man. Alright tell the team to stop diving for that corpse, that will be more than enough. No sense in wasting taxpayers money.”  With a beaming smile, the Warden shoo’s Croix away, before most firmly slamming the door shut. With a spring in his step, the Warden dials the last dialed number.

The phone begins to ring and the suave masculine voice answers, “Yes?”

The warden triumphantly says, “#66’s and #017’s deaths are confirmed. The corpses will be taken care of and all evidence of the incident erased.”

The phone is silent as the warden begins to fidget nervously. “Sir?” The warden nervously croaked.

“You surprised me, Walter. I was certain you would fail,” the smooth voice coolly stated causing the warden to sweat nervously. Suddenly the room feels too warm as the warden adjusts his shirt collar.

< Property of | outside of it, it is stolen.

“Very good, Walter,” The smooth voice added, before terminating the call.

Warden Walter let’s out a sigh of relief as he fans his sweating face. Feeling much better, he grabs his coat from off the ground. And with a flourish slams the door shut behind him and heads home. He was going to take the wife out for dinner, which would be a certain shock to her. But hey, it was not every day one had such a near and most assured death experience.

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