Carl the Death Driver / Ch-2 / Pt-6

LUVCARL cut to the right and found an opening at the boundary between parked cars. The teens trailed their guide with a little less caution and care coming off the high curb. Onto 35^th Street and away from parking enforcement, both cars turned right onto Bluebell Avenue. Drifting past stop signs at each crossroad, the automotive tag team reached the oil refinery lands at 40^th Street. LUVCARL headed east on 40th and began a steady rise in speed.  Sweeping past Poppy Avenue at 50mph and then traversing the intersection at Wildflower with no other cars in sight.

The teens were on another good time party rush of adrenaline as they kept pace. The three boys in the back seat chanted, “catch that car, catch that car.” When LUVCARL passed through the T-junction of 40^th and Sagebrush Avenue his speedometer climbed past 70mph. In six seconds, the vehicle would be at the crossroads of 40^th and Fillmore Boulevard. This was a major intersection in the area — the gateway to chain restaurants, strip malls, and big box retail. The teens never let up and looked to close the distance behind their newfound driving mentor. The music was loud. The speed was intoxicating. Aerodynamics lowered the ride to increase its grip on the road. No one questioned the motives of the mysterious vehicle they tracked. They just wanted it to go faster. Up ahead, it was bright. Gas station signs served as corner beacons. A huge hotel sign hovered high above it all with animated yellow lights.

LUVCARL reached 80mph and the only light that mattered had been red for the duration of the vehicles’ approach. Horns blared as LUVCARL shot through the intersection avoiding certain impact. A minivan slammed on its brakes to avoid LUVCARL. It skidded through the junction in the path of the oncoming boys. The large sports sedan and its five young occupants plowed into the minivan’s side doors with an explosive force. The two automobiles fused together and moved as one, skidding though the median where a box truck from the other direction struck the minivan head-on. Behind the truck, a small two-door coupe ground to a halt just inches away from impact but initiated a sequence of rear end collisions that formed a five car pileup, which eventually crushed the little coupe beneath the truck’s massive undercarriage.

For the final hours of this tragic night, local police rerouted traffic and set up a network of barriers. A wave of highway patrol officers had descended upon the scene to conduct their initial investigations. Emergency Medical Services and the fire department worked in teams to stabilize survivors and extricate the injured and the dead from their vehicles. Contracted tow trucks were on standby along with a few independents looking to get in on the action. In the blue hour before sunrise, the written report included four killed, two incapacitated, five non-incapacitated, three possibly injured, and two free of injury but scarred for life with their loss.

Five miles to the east of Fillmore Boulevard, LUVCARL maintained the legal speed limit. He may have caught a glimpse of the crash in his rearview mirror, but the severity of the collision didn’t register. The immediate lack of company and interaction dulled the vehicle’s desire to explore and experiment in these last dark hours before dawn.

Back at the intersection of Fillmore and 40^th law enforcement was busy gathering data on both victims and vehicles involved. A forensic team took hundreds of photographs and precise laser measurements to capture millions of data points. They were building the foundation of a 3D model that could later visualize the speeds and angles of approach for each moving object that contributed to the breathtaking wreckage left behind. Meanwhile, in a neighboring community, LUVCARL was gathering his own form of data. He combed the streets in the last hour before first light, monitoring morning drivers from a distance. He observed driving patterns and recurring events that might make for more hospitable interactions down the road.  

Ready to cross back over Fillmore Boulevard toward home, LUVCARL sat patiently at a lengthy red light. Cars lined the boulevard. Drivers were bewildered by the congestion and the incident beyond their view, as they passed by the culprit to their right. A distance to the north, improvised detour routes slowly moved these pre-dawn commuters around the major accident site.

Four cars had gathered in tight ranks to the rear of LUVCARL. Classical music filled his interior while morning dew droplets trickled down the windshield. The light finally turned green but there was no movement. Two sharp beeps pierced the morning air, followed by a chorus of steady horns that echoed off awakening homes. LUVCARL didn’t budge, savoring his position at the front of the line. As lead car, he temporarily held a degree of control over the pathways of others. As tension mounted, one car broke ranks and zipped by to enter the Fillmore Boulevard logjam. Others remained in line and continued to complain as the signal returned to red. Frustrated with their own obedience and inability to take immediate action, they blasted their horns and excoriated the troublemaker with an onslaught of obscenities. Suddenly, hazard lights flashed from LUVCARL’s front and rear bumpers. The signal before them cycled to green once again and all was forgiven. Moving beyond anger, the motorists managed their maneuvers until the small backup was clear. LUVCARL was solitary once more.

Streets seemed more familiar as LUVCARL navigated closer to home. Back on 20^thStreet and about to cross Lotus Avenue, a middle-aged morning walker passed by at a brisk pace. Daybreak reflected off the rear window of the vehicle. A paper receipt crawled along the road and swirled with the subtle shift of a light breeze. Other pieces of paper and discarded tissue appeared in bushes and on tree lawns as LUVCARL approached the blue stucco house near Hollyhock Avenue. This was the only home on the block without the city-issued trash containers on the curb. No one would notice this minor oddity as parked cars filled the space and even encroached upon a tiny fraction of the driveway entrance.

Between the parked cars and across the cracked sidewalk, LUVCARL slowly rolled onto the concrete driveway. The detached garage recognized its returning resident and raised the aluminum door. The sun rose in the east while the garage door behind Carl’s home lowered to a close. The vehicle processed a sequence of diagnostic checks and then initiated a system shutdown. LUVCARL went dark along with the interior of the garage. Subtle hints remained of life outside and activity within. A trace of morning sunshine bled through the seams in the garage door. A faint scratching of squirrels whispered from above as they scampered across the rooftop. A deep red glow near the steering column rhythmically flickered with data processing and software updates. Orange lights pulsed beneath its chassis as the vehicle rested and recharged.

Far away, high-frequency howls reverberated from hydraulic systems aboard a city garbage truck as it raised and lowered trash bins. The movement was punctuated with a final thud of a container thrown to the curb and bouncing back into place. A distant and dissipating roar from the sanitation behemoth’s departure fades beneath the tranquil soundscape of a new day in Carl’s neighborhood.