Browncoat Zone - Chapter Three: The Journey
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
From the Journal of Succatash...
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 3977 RATING: 10.0 (PG13) SERIES: FIREFLY
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“Hang on, Static, this is going to be a bumpy ride!” I shouted over the noise. I lowered the visor on my helmet and sped quickly down the street towards Maniac’s house.
My scooter roared loudly as I darted through the back streets of the city. Traffic slowly thinned as I approached the outskirts of town. When I reached the familiar giant oak tree, I suddenly slammed on my brakes. The scooter skidded violently, and I swerved sharply onto an obscure dirt road. I ducked my head as thick branches banged and scraped against my helmet.
“Hold on, Static! We’re almost there!” I cried. The unconscious little warrior bounced wildly in the basket of my scooter. In the distance, I spied the old bridge and the faint glow of Maniac’s house.
Maniac lived across the canal at the edge of town, in a rundown ranch he won in a poker game. He spent his time building model airplanes and fiddling with gadgets. I was one of his few friends. Not many people could understand Maniac’s strange sense of humor, or tolerate his clever practical jokes.
I sped along the dirt road and approached the canal. To my astonishment, the bridge seemed to be moving. I blinked my eyes, and then swore. Maniac was raising the drawbridge! I opened the throttle and my scooter shot forward. I gulped in fear as I realized I would never make it in time.
“Maniac!” I shouted in vain. “Lower the bridge! Lower the bridge! This isn’t funny!” It was too late to stop. Seconds later, my scooter reached the ramp and shot into the air. I screamed wildly as I flew over the canal. To make matters worse, I could hear the sound of a trumpet blaring a few notes of Dixie, just like on the Dukes of Hazzard .
“God damn you, Maniac!” I shouted. Despite my fear, I landed smoothly on the other side of the bridge and rode on. I felt a wave of exhilaration, which quickly turned to anger as I realized Maniac
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