Free The Indifference League by Richard Scarsbrook Page B

the Escalade and connects the jumper cables to its massive black battery.
    â€œI thought she should get a nice, efficient little Honda Civic to run around the city in,” he continues, “but apparently people who live in our neighbourhood don’t drive Hondas . Apparently she feels ‘ empowered ’” — he makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers — “by driving something large enough to generate its own gravitational field. Personally, I blame the feminist movement.”
    â€œHey! Buying a gas-guzzling tank has nothing to do with …”
    â€œAw, relax. I just said that to annoy you. Her mother bought it for her. She’s got one, too, so they’re both very empowered . Now, jump into your VW and we’ll see if we can get you empowered , too.”
    Hippie Avenger climbs onto the frayed driver’s seat of the Microbus and turns the key. After a few wheezy, laboured turnovers, the little engine sputters, coughs, and then begins running earnestly. Its irregular burbling is music to Hippie Avenger’s ears; she won’t be trapped in the suburbs for the weekend, nor will she have to endure the trip to the cottage in the Death Star with The Statistician and Time Bomb.
    â€œShit!” cries The Statistician from within the SUV’s cavernous plastic and fake-wood interior. “Everything’s gone dead! What the …?”
    Time Bomb’s eyelids flutter, and she mumbles sleepily, “Jump-starting another vehicle can trick the ATS into disabling the onboard computer so the engine won’t run.”
    â€œATS?”
    â€œAnti-Theft System.”
    â€œYou didn’t think to tell me this until now?”
    â€œYou need a special electronic gizmo to reset it,” Time Bomb says. “It’ll be tough to find a mechanic who can do it, since it’s the long weekend. I guess we’ll just have to stay home.” She pauses before adding, “Darn the luck.”
    Hippie Avenger wanders over beside the open driver’s-side window of the Escalade. She offers tentatively, “Well, like, if you two want to ride with me …”
    â€œIn that thing?” Time Bomb gasps. “My God! Does it even have CCAPS?”
    â€œSee-see-what?”
    â€œClimate Control and Air Purification System! Air conditioning , for God’s sake! My hair will be a disaster in this humidity.”
    Hippie Avenger says, “The Microbus comes equipped with a top-of-the-line NAS. It’s an older technology, but it always works.”
    â€œNAS?”
    â€œNatural Airflow System.”
    Soon the old VW is rattling along a northbound highway, humid summer air blasting through its open windows. Hippie Avenger is behind the wheel, and The Statistician rides shotgun.
    Time Bomb sneezes three times, “Ah-shee! Ah-shee! Ah-SHAH!” , then curls up in a fetal position on the rear bench seat. She grumbles something about “toxins and allergens” before falling into a drooling, snoring slumber.
    *
    They have been on the road for nearly an hour when The Statistician abruptly says, “‘Meat is Murder!”, quoting the translucent sticker affixed to the windshield above the dashboard in front of him. “Actually, killing another human being is murder . Meat is food. ”
    â€œ Vegetables are food, too,” says Hippie Avenger, knowing that she’s chomping on the former high school Debating Champion’s bait.
    She remembers the time that The Statistician passionately advocated atheism to Teens Need Truth co-chairs SuperKen and SuperBarbie, and then turned around and argued for the existence of God with the vociferously atheist Psycho Superstar. When everyone else proclaims to be liberal, The Statistician is conservative. When they are warriors, he’s a pacifist. When they are socialists, he’s a capitalist.
    â€œHumans are omnivores !” he says, the volume of his voice rising.