False Gods | The Prime Archives #3 ✓

twenty-six

It took them another two days to reach Oregon. According to a local radio station, it was Thursday. They were just a few days away from Christmas. Oscar could've come up with a wishlist as long as a roll of toilet paper, but the thing he wanted the most wouldn't fit under a tree.

His fingers gripped the worn leather steering wheel as he cruised carefully through the familiar streets of downtown Portland. The Acropolis was just a few miles west outside the city. Soon, the towering buildings of the vibrant, bustling metropolis gave way to tall pine trees and dense shrubbery.

The sun was setting rapidly. Oscar cut on the Mustang's headlights. The lack of lights in the forests of Oregon meant he'd be driving through straight pitch. Even with the bright rays pouring from the front of his vehicle, he could barely see more than a few yards ahead of him.

He wasn't exactly sure how to get to The Acropolis, as it didn't show up on most maps and he didn't have the route memorized. But he knew its general location. Once he got close enough he would know.

As he continued driving, navigating the tricky dirt roads winding through the towering trees, he thought about what he would do once he arrived. He didn't have the slightest clue on how to get inside. His plan was pretty much nonexistent. His lust for revenge had inspired most of his actions thus far.

He had been acting on impulse. Emotion. No careful thought had been put into his movements.

Chase's help would've been incredibly useful right about now.

Snorting, he shook the thought out his head. Chase might've been a master strategist, but he was also a coward. He and his followers had spent the last three years hiding away like rodents in a sewer. While they hid, Atlas took over.

They were weak.

Oscar wasn't.

While he didn't have a plan, he knew wouldn't need one. He had Xiomara at his side. The two of them could accomplish anything together.

Oscar took a peek at Xiomara. She was wide awake this time, her bright eyes glued to the star-filled sky above. Her leg bounced rapidly as she tapped her fingers against her thigh.

"Nervous?"

She shook her head. "Excited."

A smile grabbed his mouth. "Me too."

They continued driving forward through the forest. As he approached a hill, his eyes flickered to the gas meter. His heart stopped.

Uh oh.

The light had been blinking for the last thirty minutes. He knew he should've stopped for gas, but with Atlas' presence being greater in the city and their faces likely plastered across every screen in the nation, he couldn't afford to stop again.

But now he was running the risk of being stranded. At night. In the middle of the woods. Shuddering, he tightened his grip around the steering wheel and willed the Mustang to climb the hill. The engine trembled and stuttered. Seconds later he heard something groan from beneath the hood.

"C'mon," he mumbled, pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal. "C'mon, don't quit on me now."

The wheels slowly came to a stop just as he reached the top. The engine sputtered for a few more moments before going completely dead. Shortly after, the lights cut off. The car was dead.

Fully submerged in the darkness around them, Oscar slammed his hands against the dashboard and pressed his face into the steering wheel. His nose accidentally hit the horn, causing the blaring sound to rip through the night. Jolting up, he quickly scanned the area around them.