The NRRVE Project
Book One
by: Traci Klawes

Chapter 1:  Genesis

 

Adam pulled his truck out into midmorning Chicago traffic. Even the extra armor plating on the minivan didn't make him feel safe against the speed-crazed hordes traveling the Loop. He changed lanes, dodging around a red convertible.

"Damn women drivers!" He cursed as the blonde in the convertible seemed intent on running him off the road.

"Relax, Adam," his partner, Larry, muttered. "If you're gonna drive like that, we'll never make it to our first delivery."

Adam glanced at his partner, shrugged, then eased off the accelerator. He grinned as he answered. "Yeah, you're right. Besides, who could stay mad at a bombshell like that?" He pointed ahead at the woman in the convertible. The wind was whipping her long hair about, making her seem like a pagan wind goddess.

"Yeah, like you stand a chance with her," Larry gibed. "I'm sure a babe like that would go for a balding guy in a green Terra Labs jumpsuit."

"Maybe she likes a guy in a uniform," Adam retorted. "At least I make this look good, unlike a certain pot-bellied partner of mine. Say, where exactly is the first drop?"

"This baby goes to Great Lakes Naval Base." Larry patted the cooler between them. "Unit, um.." he checked the clipboard, "Alpha goes to Deep Storage One, and looks like Gamma goes to 'Special Operations' next. Wherever that is."

"I didn't know Terra was doing military work." The driver stated. "Think it's just medical supplies for the Navy?"

"The phrase 'Don't ask, don't tell' comes to mind," Larry quipped. "I don't want to lose my job, and I definitely don't want to end up in front of a firing squad."

"Don't get melodramatic. It's not like we deliver top secret materials. All we do, all day, every day, is deliver supplies to the hospitals and pharmacies," Adam pointed out. "The only reason we got this armored van is to keep the addicts from robbing us blind."

"Gee, thanks for reminding me how pathetic our lives are," Larry griped. "You didn't--Watch out!!!!"

Adam slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing the convertible that had stopped in front of him. Boxes and cartons fell off shelves in the back, adding to the tension of the moment. A spray of clear liquid dotted the windshield. Sweat? He wondered, absentmindedly wiping the windshield with his palm, or did Larry just piss himself? He pulled off at the next exit ramp, not looking forward to filling out another damage report.

 

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Lt. Stevens dropped his hand back into the bucket of soapy water at his side. The unseasonably warm day gave him an excuse to wash his truck. He smiled at the group of kids who had gathered in front of the fire station to watch him. He playfully threw a handful of suds at them before resuming his work.

"Good morning, Robert," a voice said behind him. He turned from scrubbing chrome and brass to see Ruth standing on the corner. The elderly woman leaned on her walker, gracing him with her wrinkled smile. "I'm running across the street to get some fruit. Did you want me to pick you up anything?" She indicated the fruit vendor's cart across the street. "If you want to make it to my age, you have to stay healthy."

"Ruth," he replied, "If you want to stay healthy, you should have someone else do your errands. I would have been happy to run over there for you. God knows we all owe you enough, with all the cookies and pies you send over." Ruth, who lived next door to the station, was always bringing by some kind of meal or desert for the firefighters. She refused any kind of payment, but the men always seemed to have her sidewalk shoveled before she woke up in the winter, and refused to let her mow or rake her small yard in summer.

"Here, you have a seat on the bench while I get your fruit," he commanded. "Apples and pears, right?" After a nod from his neighbor, he dashed across the street, making sure to take the time to choose the best looking of the lot.

He was just handing the vendor a twenty dollar bill when squealing brakes made him spin around. A light green van had just sped through a red light and was bearing down on the cart! Stevens grabbed the vendor in a bear hug, tumbling them both out of danger across the grass. The van demolished the cart, sending fruit in every direction, then came up short against -of all things- a fire hydrant. Water sprayed everywhere as the hydrant burst open.

Personnel swarmed out of the fire station, one with a wrench turning off the damaged hydrant. The medical squad had surrounded the cab of the van, and were examining the two occupants. Stevens helped the vendor to his feet, and walked over to the accident site. He quickly checked under the vehicle, looking for fuel leaks. Seeing none, he turned his attention to the occupants. The medics seemed to have everything under control, so he headed back across the street. A police car was just pulling up; he headed over to the officer.

"Hey Bob," the police officer greeted him, getting out of the squad. "Why don't you go get some dry clothes on? I'll come get your statement in a few minutes." The officer looked down. "Have a cup of coffee, too. You look like you're still in shock."

"Why do you say…oh." The lieutenant noticed what he was holding. During the entire incident he had never let go of the bag of apples! He held them out to Ruth as he headed back to her.

"Here you are," he handed her the dripping bag. "I even washed them for you."

"Silly young man!" Ruth chided him. "You could have been hurt, or even killed! Here you are making jokes. Still, thank you. You realize that you effectively saved two lives?"

Stevens wrapped his arms around her frail form, feeling her shake. It was true, he realized. Had she continued on her errand, she would have been in the path of the van. He looked at her walker, trying not to think about her ability to get out of the way. A papery kiss on his cheek brought him back to the moment.

"As grateful as I am, Robert, you are soaking wet," Ruth pointed out. He grinned sheepishly, and helped her to her door. Then he dashed back into the station to change into a dry uniform. Glancing out the window, he saw the team pull an unconscious figure with flowing auburn hair out of the green Terra Labs van.

"Women drivers," he muttered to himself.

 

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The June day had broken clear, quickly covering the Chicago area in near-ninety degree heat. For a few moments in mid-morning, a cool mist settled over a small portion of the city. Startled by precipitation from a cloudless sky, many Chicagoans still turned their faces heavenward, thankful for the brief respite from the heat.

 

(continued)

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Traci Klawes. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.