Chapter 2 - Game Over or Press Continue?
The next thing Benton knew, he was standing in what looked like a bog-standard corporate office. Cheap carpet squares. Lay-in acoustic tile ceiling. Fluorescent lights. White dry-erase board.
The truck had crashed into him. He remembered vividly standing in the street facing it with his arm covering his head. The hood had struck his torso first, forcing his head forward.
Things had gone black at that point. He didn’t even recall any pain.
The best explanation he could come up with was that he’d hit his head on the truck, causing him to lose consciousness. But where was he and how did he get there?
Benton patted himself down. No injuries. No blood. His clothes, the same ones he’d put on in the morning, had no tears or stains.
What. The. Heck.
“You present me with quite an annoyance,” a flat voice said.
A man was sitting behind a desk. Benton hadn’t noticed him. Nor the desk.
“This is not an unprecedented situation,” the man continued, his face blank of any emotion, “but it is quite rare. Usually, when a civilian interferes with a Truck-kun, the potential hero is actually saved, so we simply send the civilian in the hero’s place. No problems. No complications.”
Hero?
“This time, however, that particular hero was too important, so we sent two Truck-kuns.” Despite the complete lack of expression either on his face or in his voice, the man seemed very satisfied with the statement. “The hero is beginning his journey as we speak, so all is right with that plane. What to do with you is the question.”
Benton had always been pretty quick on the uptake, so even though his present circumstances were far outside his experience, he grokked the situation somewhat, enough to figure out that his fate hung in the balance.