The X Factor
Funny thing about the X.
Whenever the Authorities investigate an Xing, they never find anything. No witnesses. No crime victims; even the Xed driver can’t seem to recall what happened or why. They never contest it, protest it, or press charges. That is one area in which all drivers understand solidarity. Whispers may abound, but on the record, there is only silence.
No official will ever re-chip a driver that bears an X, and that often carries over to the private sector, too. That X, that brand, has a reputation. If you bear an X, you did something pretty freaking bad, and no one will hire you. No background check required.
You’d have to go to great lengths to get an X removed, like laser surgery and changing your identity. Which in this day of pocket DNA scanners and uber-tight identity regulations.... Let’s just say it would be easier to get a sex change than get rid of that X.
I only know of about half a dozen Xings in the last five years. Most resulted from drivers who beat up women; the one who raped a teenage runaway...he had more than his chip removed.
But there is one Xing that stands out from the rest. The kind of story that gets told in a dark lounge lit by a flickering candle when the power goes out due to some storm.
The details have grown over the years until I don’t know what is true and what is speculation layered over hysteria. But the story of Alabama Hal and the Ghost Rose Red; that’s the stuff of a real life horror story.
The sketch is of a twisted Solo driver who lured a Ghost into a hotel room and beat her senseless, robbed her, sexually assaulted her repeatedly, beat her some more, strangled her to death, wadded her up in a sheet as if he was going to throw her into a dumpster, then just left her there for the maid to find in the morning.
A posse of drivers found Hal the next day, and after administering their own brand of justice, they turned him in, almost intact, to the authorities to stand trial for his crime. Only he disappeared from custody, and no one has seen him since. So every knock on a Lounge door during a storm, or hitchhiker in the night.... You get the picture.
Next week: A Rare Breed of Outlaw
© 2013 Kristi Cramer
Whenever the Authorities investigate an Xing, they never find anything. No witnesses. No crime victims; even the Xed driver can’t seem to recall what happened or why. They never contest it, protest it, or press charges. That is one area in which all drivers understand solidarity. Whispers may abound, but on the record, there is only silence.
No official will ever re-chip a driver that bears an X, and that often carries over to the private sector, too. That X, that brand, has a reputation. If you bear an X, you did something pretty freaking bad, and no one will hire you. No background check required.
You’d have to go to great lengths to get an X removed, like laser surgery and changing your identity. Which in this day of pocket DNA scanners and uber-tight identity regulations.... Let’s just say it would be easier to get a sex change than get rid of that X.
I only know of about half a dozen Xings in the last five years. Most resulted from drivers who beat up women; the one who raped a teenage runaway...he had more than his chip removed.
But there is one Xing that stands out from the rest. The kind of story that gets told in a dark lounge lit by a flickering candle when the power goes out due to some storm.
The details have grown over the years until I don’t know what is true and what is speculation layered over hysteria. But the story of Alabama Hal and the Ghost Rose Red; that’s the stuff of a real life horror story.
The sketch is of a twisted Solo driver who lured a Ghost into a hotel room and beat her senseless, robbed her, sexually assaulted her repeatedly, beat her some more, strangled her to death, wadded her up in a sheet as if he was going to throw her into a dumpster, then just left her there for the maid to find in the morning.
A posse of drivers found Hal the next day, and after administering their own brand of justice, they turned him in, almost intact, to the authorities to stand trial for his crime. Only he disappeared from custody, and no one has seen him since. So every knock on a Lounge door during a storm, or hitchhiker in the night.... You get the picture.
Next week: A Rare Breed of Outlaw
© 2013 Kristi Cramer
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Bounded in a Nutshell
The skinny on Kristi's life, musings, and occasional bits on writing, works in progress, and promotions.
My blog title is from Shakespeare's Hamlet:
Hamlet:
O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and ...more
My blog title is from Shakespeare's Hamlet:
Hamlet:
O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and ...more
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