District 4, Third Circuit
Somewhere on the outskirts of Frox Tof
23 days until Zero Hour
Tom was a fresh recruit at the Yalapeno's police station. And even though he had dreamt of becoming a police officer and upholding justice since he was a child, he never imagined that this job would be so devilishly tough. He had just finished his shift at midnight yesterday, barely made it home, and now he received word that he had been assigned to pick up equipment from the distant Frox Tof, several kilometers away. Staff shortgage would soon hit them harder than the criminals, who were as plentiful in Yalapeno as mosquitoes after rain!
"For what, for what" he muttered to himself, trying not to doze off at the wheel.
"Stop yawning, or I'll lose it" the senior commissioner remarked nonchalantly. He, along with Tom and two other constables, had been delegated to this mission. He wasn't pleased about it either; he was furious at the inspector for assigning a bunch of rookies to such a task. Mark Font was supposed to supervise them. It was truly the last thing he had dreamt of on a Saturday evening.
The atmosphere was tense as the police officers drove in silence in their two cars to collect the weapons, paying for their own fuel. Ah, fuel. Tom glanced at the gas gauge and cursed inwardly when the red reserve light lit up just as if on cue.
"Um" he murmured, capturing the commander's attention, who leaned over the dashboard.
"I told John to refuel when he parked the vehicle yesterday, what a son of a— " He sighed, grinding his teeth against the remaining words. He clenched his jaw tightly and tapped his fingers against his chin.
"We passed a gas station sign some time ago."
"It's scary to refuel in such a backwater place; you never know if they have oil instead of fuel" he grumbled unfriendly, as he never liked the Frox Tof area. It wasn't without reason that it was called the ghost town. Apparently, even the criminals didn't see a future here and, like many young people, had left for other, more civilized regions.
"The next one is probably only in Frox Tof" the sergeant muttered to himself, weighing whether they would make it on time. Finally, he waved his hand. "Alright, let's stop here" he decided and informed the two policewomen following behind them that they needed to pull over.
Ten minutes later, Tom pulled into the indicated gas station. It was 8:40 PM, yet the area was submerged in almost complete silence and darkness, illuminated only by the flickering lights of the station. There was not a soul within several kilometers, even though the station was located in the middle of the main road to Frox Tof. Yes, it truly was a ghost town.
"Stretch your legs, we still have over half an hour of driving ahead of us" the commissioner spoke up, being the first to jump out of the car and head towards the station building. The two policewomen quickly followed in his footsteps, wanting to use the restroom, leaving Tom alone with the stubborn fuel inlet.
After two minutes, he managed to open the inlet, but when he reached for the diesel pistol, he furrowed his brows as the dispenser screen showed neither the price nor the amount of fuel. He tapped his finger on the screen, but it didn't change anything. He also pressed the pistol, but not a drop of fuel came out.
"What a day" he muttered to himself and pressed the service call button, silently hoping that at least that worked.
It turned out it did, and within a minute, the cashier was making her way towards him. Her brown ponytail bounced to the rhythm of her steps.
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