Way Home

Outside, Mr. Biel puts on his goggles that he had placed in his pocket and walks to the motorcycle covering his mouth with his sleeve. Opening the storage compartment he hurriedly takes out and puts on his face covering. Finally able to breath without having to concern himself with the flurry of Dream passing his he takes one final look at the silent neighborhood as the purple particles fall. Well, it was silent for a moment before he noticed, after squinting his eyes, a white van coming down the road. As the van approached, the strange apparatus attached to the top of the van also came into vision out of the falling Dream; A large circular ring of black coils which was attached to stand high overhead of the van.

“Must be a Mira patrol car equipped with a miniature pylon. What are they doing out here? Making final rounds?” Mr. Biel thought to himself as it neared.

Coming to a stop before him, Mr. Biel saw with amazement how the air surrounded him and the van became clear. In his awe however, an officer exits the passenger side of the vehicle. Wearing pure black, the officer is dressed in military grade equipment and as Mr. Biel tries to look them in the eyes, he is only met with a gas mask with pitch black lenses reflecting his worried face back to himself. He glances back down.

“This zone has been marked as a level one area, please either take shelter or leave for safety. What is your reasoning for being out here now?” Their voice was muffled from the various filters on their mask.

“Sorry officer, I was attending a client that I had for the day before–”

“A client you say? State your occupation.” The Officer suddenly interjected.

“I’m a mechanic sir.” Mr. Biel says.

For a moment the Officer looks at Mr. Biel who had the natural urge to look at their face, but was once again met with their reflection.

“Take out your license and registration along with your MiraWork registration.”

“Of course,” Mr. Biel says as he scrambles to get all the required identification and paperwork.

Taking his license, the Officer told him to take off his mask and goggles to which Mr. Biel complied.

“Jonathan Biel.”

“That's correct sir.” Mr. Biel says.

“Seems like you’ve grown quite the beard.”

“I’ve been pretty busy these days.” Jonathan says.

Letting out a satisfactory hmpt, the Officer takes a look at Jonathan’s other documentation before pausing for a moment on one.

“Your MiraWork has expired for two days.”

“What? I just had it renewed last week? Wait, don’t tell me I forgot it at home–Isn’t there any way that you can check the system? I promise that I’ve–”

“Sir I with the current level three zone surrounding the city, it's virtually impossible to access the database.” The Officer says while writing something on a small clipboard.

“Either you plead your case or pay the fine of 500.” they say as they rip the paper they were writing on and give it to Jonathan.

“Are you kidding me?” Jonathan says as he looks at the fine.

“You know how serious we take verification at Mira. We wouldn’t want the people to get their services from the wrong people.” The Officer says, returning Jonathan all his paperwork.

“I know. I used to work for them.” Jonathan says begrudgingly as he stores the documents where he originally had placed them.

“Well then you should have known better.”

Returning back to the van, the officer talks a moment with another officer who was patiently waiting. As Jonathan raises his mask again, he could have sworn that the officers were laughing hysterically as they drove away. Once they had left, the Dream had started to blow across Jonathan’s face as he was now outside of the miniature pylon’s warding radius.

“Great, what am I going to do now?” Jonathan thought as he turned the engine key to his motorcycle.

“I’m broke and this was my first job in weeks.”

Once he had fastened his goggles and helmet, Jonathan revs the motorcycle which thankfully to the filters he had applied, sounded clear.

“Show me the way back.”

Displaying on the top of his goggle’s vision was a map that steadily started to calculate the path on the road ahead, though partway through the map started to buffer.

“Error. Weak signal.” A metallic voice stated.

“Great, just my luck. I guess I’ll just have to get home by memory.”

For sometime, Jonathan rode about; lost. Several times he had returned back to streets that he had once passed before finally remembering the correct way once he had reached a sign that read Now Exiting Overridge.

“Just a straight ride back home from here.” Jonathan said to himself after exclaiming a sigh of relief.

Speeding down the road, the number of buildings had begun to thin out before giving way to a sparse woodland. The further along he went, the less Dream particles there were in the sky before suddenly the air was cleared once he left the woodland area and entered flat plains for as far as he could see. Deciding to check the time on his watch after seeing the sun beginning to set in the horizon, he soon discovered that it was now past six in the afternoon; he had been lost for three hours.

Jonathan felt the frustration rise up from within him due to the lost time, however apathy quickly filled its place as soon as he realized that all he had left was free-time for the foreseeable future.

“I can’t believe I became a mechanic. Why didn’t I just stay in the city and continue on being an engineer for Mira. I would’ve been more useful there.” He couldn’t help but think.

As he drifted in his thoughts, Jonathan looked around the plains to see the various large corn fields being reclaimed by nature. He was unfazed by the smell of over-ripened corn rotting that permeated his mask.

“I should’ve left too. Even the farmers know how much of a plague Dream is.”

Suddenly, the motorcycle engine begins to sputter. Looking down at the dashboard in panic, Jonathan sees the gas gauge’s indicator was pointing past empty; he was running on fumes. Letting out a groan of frustration, Jonathan pounds at the dashboard as he tries his best riding out the last of the engine’s power. Coming to a stall, Jonathan stops the bike by the side of the road next to a large wooden fence blocking in a field.

He gets off the motorcycle and starts walking alongside it, all the way back home.

The purplish tint of the Dream clouds in the sky behind him soon became brown as the sun sets in the horizon. In the far distance, Jonathan manages to see a small building sticking out of the endless plains before him. Home.

Completely tired and a sweaty mess, he manages to pull his motorcycle the final stretch to his home. Past several bushes creating a natural barrier for him, a simple gray house standing alongside a large brick garage building. Hanging above the garage hung a sign reading Biel’s Auto Shop written in large black print against a simple white background. Though it was simple, it did its job well enough for Jonathan that he hadn’t changed it since he first established his shop.

“It's not like anyone is coming by anyways.” he thought as he carefully laid his motorcycle next to him before collapsing on the driveway to his house from exhaustion.

For a while he stared at the orange sky above as he took off his face covering. Finally able to catch his breath without the hindrance of a mask, he takes a deep breath of gratitude.

“At the very least, I can breathe in peace here.” He thought as he closed his eyes.

The subtle wind that blew brought Jonathan some respite from the heat of his exertion to which he enjoyed. As the wind shuffled the nearby grass, he began to feel a rhythmic thumping that grew more and more powerful with each strike. As he lay there feeling the strikes in the earth he started to also hear the crunching of pebbles as the hits neared before completely stopping at its apex next to him. A small metallic object then snapped and clicked several times before hearing a deep breath; the smelled tobacco filling his lungs.

“If you came here for repairs… I’m sorry to tell you that I’ll need a couple of minutes to recuperate... I just spent the last hour… dragging along my motorcycle on foot… since I ran out of gas.” Jonathan says huffing. He is so tired that he couldn't open his eyes, even if he willed himself to.

The person that was standing over Jonathan took another puff.

“Then you’re in luck. I just came here to meet a man named Jonathan Biel and I figure you must be him.” The person says with a deep tone.

Too exhausted to respond verbally, Jonathan nods just once.

“Well then, this is a little awkward, but it's me, Lewis.”

“What do you mean you’re–”

Puzzled by his words, Jonathan is startled to find when forcing his eyes open, a man standing overhead, grinning with a cigarette in his mouth.

“How’s it been Jonathan? A long time right?” Lewis says after removing the cigarette from his lips. He extends a bandage wrapped arm out to him.

“Lewis?”

Either the adrenaline from the startlement or the joy in rediscovering an old friend, Jonathan manages to get the strength to take Lewis’ extended hand to get off the ground.

“Wow, you’ve… changed.” Jonathan says as he stumbles while getting his footing again.

Covered in a long ragged cloak caked with dirt, sand and Dream particles was Lewis standing before him. Once he had removed his cloak’s cowl from his head the strong facial hairs which had covered much of his face were exposed. Despite his worn appearances, Jonathan could still denote the subtle hint of care that Lewis always has had with himself as under his dirty cloak was a clean linen shirt and well kept hair on his head. Stomping out the butt cigarette that he held onto, Lewis proceeded to stand Jonathan’s motorcycle that laid haphazardly on the asphalt beside him. Using both hands, Jonathan was able to catch a clearer glimpse at the bandaged arm that was hidden by Lewis’ cloak as well as the fact that he appeared to have gotten leaner.

“Thanks… you didn’t come…” Jonathan managed to say before stumbling again and dropping to hands and knees.

“Woah, you really did work yourself out huh? Come on, I’ll take you to the front of your house.” Lewis says, setting the motorcycle back down again carefully before helping Jonathan on his feet again.

Placing one arm on his shoulder, Lewis helped Jonathan walk to his house so that he finally had some rest.

“There is… a bench…”

Spotting the bench, Lewis sits Jonathan down.

“Thank… you.” Jonathan said before passing out.