Chapter 33: Compression
Chapter 33: Compression
Chapter 33: Compression
It was another sunny day in heaven, but it was definitely shaping up to be an interesting one. Saint Peter found himself gawking as a black SUV appeared in front of the pearly gates. He looked down at his book and a new name appeared. “This is certainly unusual.” He said, trying to regain his composure. “Murphy is it?”
The SUV went to rev its engine to confirm but nothing happened. The human in the white robe was saying something about there being a no parking zone but Murphy ignored him. He was straining to listen to what was happening back on Earth.
He understood that he was dying and his spark would soon be extinguished. But he refused to go out like this. No, he had so many things he still wanted to do, so many speed limits left to break. It wasn't fair. All he wanted to do was go fast and destroy things. He didn't deserve to die.
In his rearview mirror Murphy saw a specter approaching. It was an all black tow truck with a gigantic gleaming silver hook hanging from the back that glinted in the light. It was the Grim Repo, coming to claim him. He tried to drive away but his engine was still dead.
So this was the end? He thought, preparing to go out fighting but knowing it was pointless. His oil pan was cracked and leaking all over the ground. Even if he managed to get his engine to turn over it would seize up immediately.
The big silver hook swung and wrapped itself around his rear axle. Soon the Grim Repo would drag him away to the great impound lot in the ever after. But when it tried to pull, there was a surprising amount of resistance. It was almost like something was anchoring Murphy in place.
I'm not dead yet. Murphy realized. He ignored this strange bright place with its lack of gas stations and focused on his physical body. The voices got louder. It was Bael and Maharet!
“Yeah, but we should really think about fuel economy and the environment. One of the neighbors has a Honda civic that they might be able to sell us.” Maharet said.
A civic? She wanted to replace him with a civic? Murphy felt the road rage rising within him. No, he would not let her replace him with one of those little pieces of plastic.
The SUV tried to turn over his motor but nothing happened. So he tried again as the familiar shape of the black tow truck materialized behind him and began to pull. Nobody but him could see it. But that didn't mean it wasn't there.
Bael was doing something to anchor Murphy, to keep the Grim Repo at bay. There was a spark inside him, wrapped in some kind of gray and blue thread, reinforced by the demon’s golden magic. But it wasn't enough. Murphy felt himself beginning to slip away.
If only his engine would start! He just needed a chance! One freaking chance! One opportunity! One last run! But he was fading fast and the spark was going out. When it died, so would he. Murphy tried troubleshooting the problem. He had a spark, and the magic was fuel, air was all around him, so all he needed now was compression. Right? Wasn't that how motors worked?
Spark, Fuel, Air, Compression. That was the last piece of the puzzle. He focused on drawing this strange web of gray and blue threads tighter around the spark and tried to start his motor. It almost turned over then abruptly died. His spark flickered into nothing.
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The Grim Repo hauled Murphy away, but not before Maharet got one last shot in.
“I mean, he tried but it's like I told you.” The flame demon looked into the ruined engine bay. “We should have just gotten a smart car.”
The Grim Repo’s cable snapped taut. Something was happening within Murphy and he was not ready to go yet. They were going to replace him with a smart car? Fuck that!
Murphy’s spark was gone but that was fine. He didn't need it anymore. He was too angry to die. Focusing all of his rage he pushed down on the golden web of magic, compressing it, going full diesel. He passed a ten to one compression ratio easily, feeling the heat building inside his cylinders.
They wanted to save the environment? Who the fuck cared? Murphy thought as he kept going, forcing the ball of magic down smaller and smaller, trying to achieve a high enough compression ratio to make it ignite. Burn all the giant pandas for heat! Hunt the whales for motor oil! Earth first, strip mine the other planets later!
They wanted fuel efficiency? He would show them fuel efficiency. Nobody could convert dead dinosaurs to speed, smoke, and noise like Murphy! He got ten miles to the gallon and that was on a regular day. On a good day it was down to eight! He burned gas and oil, didn't that make him a hybrid?
The golden ball of magic was getting on the cusp of ignition as he hit a twelve to one compression ratio. It was getting harder now but he kept going. He could feel the Grim Repo’s hook digging into his rear axle as he stubbornly clung to life.
I did not leave the assembly line in Ohio just to die in California. Murphy told himself as he hit a fourteen to one ratio. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't push any further. The ball of magic refused to ignite.
“It's a shame.” Six said, patting a crumpled quarter panel sadly. “We never got to see how fast he could really go. Maybe we should just get bikes or take the bus?”
WHAT? WE DID NOT WIN TWO WORLD WARS TO RIDE THE FUCKING BUS!
There was an explosion of sound and heat as the magic ignited and Murphy’s motor turned over. The family jumped back onto the sidewalk in surprise. Bael and Six were grinning like idiots and exchanging high fives. Even Maharet looked pleasantly surprised.
“Welcome back, Murphy!” Bael called out over the noise of the engine. “I hope you're hungry because I've got a whole bunch of magic about to come your way.”
Good. Murphy thought as power began to flow through him. He coughed up a cloud of black smoke and began to pull himself back together. Dents and dings disappeared. Cracks sealed. The Grim Repo sensed the danger and tried to disengage its hook but Murphy was having none of it. Once again the cable went taut.
There were many tales of souls challenging death to games (usually hide and seek, though chess was also popular) in a futile attempt to extend their lives. But Murphy had something different in mind.
Fueled by a potent mix of rage and infernal magic Murphy kicked what remained of his powertrain into four wheel drive. Let's see how he likes Tug of War. Murphy thought as he revved his engine and took off into the night.