Anne looked at the official death certificate. It was the second one she had gotten this year. She then replayed the short message she had just received. The message had been recorded the same day that hundreds of charities had received millions of credits worldwide. She had received it the following day as the news feeds covered the purity church’s collapse and subsequent ban by the CSA. Some of the elders had been arrested, while others were on the run.

“Hey Aunt Anne. I helped attack the church. Hopefully they are now done for good. I stole all their data and turned it over to some people I trust that work for the CSA. I also stole every credit the church and the elders had. No, I’m not keeping it. I gave almost all of it to charity. The rest I’m giving to you and those that helped me along the way. You’re getting two million credits, which should be enough to live comfortably off for years to come. I’ll visit as soon as I can. Love you!”

Anne checked her account and sure enough, it held an additional two million credits. The tears started to come and wouldn’t stop.

*

“Doc, can we keep the credits?” Bill asked.

“No.”

“Come on Doc. Zoe left them as a gift,” Sonya said.

“It is just a million for each of us,” Zane added. He then smiled. “With the money we can afford that vacation to Tahiti we always wanted to take, plus buy a couple new rides.”

“I’ll think about it,” Claire replied after hesitating. The others grinned. They knew that Doc would agree to keeping Zoe’s parting gift now. “Let’s get back to work. We have a clinic to run.”

*

The courier stepped off the maglev and onto the train platform nine months later. The ride from DC to Raleigh, NC had been faster than she had expected. She shifted her backpack to make it more comfortable.

“Now, where is this AAC place at?” the courier asked herself. The courier’s GPS software immediately filled in her map with directions. She smiled and walked out of the train station. A moment later, the courier flagged down a cab.

“Where to?” the cabbie asked after the courier shut the door.

“American Automotive Classics on Capital Blvd. I have a letter to deliver.”

“Courier huh?”

“Yep.”

“I thought all you guys wore leather and rode motorcycles or drove fast cars,” the cabbie said as he pulled into traffic.

“Not all of us. Some of us wear skirts like this and ride the train because it’s faster and cheaper than paying for a vehicle that can travel between states,” the courier replied gesturing to her outfit.

“True enough, especially since the new director has declared the Midwest a lawless zone because of the decades long drought there and crime,” the cabbie said. “You have a bit of a southern accent, but I can’t quite place it. Are you from North Carolina?”

“No,” the courier replied as she turned towards the window. The cabbie grunted but didn’t say anything else as it seemed his passenger didn’t want to talk.

*

Bob Phelps watched as a small, young woman with long dark hair wearing a white sweater and blue flower print ankle length skirt hopped up and down on the back of the R150’s tailgate. He smiled as the back of the truck actually bobbed up and down. Bob wondered how much her implants weighed to make that happen. He shook his head and approached the woman.

“Howdy. The R150 is a beauty, isn’t she?” Bob asked as he gestured to the truck.

The R150 was modeled on a truck that had been originally produced in the late 2010s and early 2020s. Just like the original, this one was a 4-wheel drive, 4 door super crew cab beast. This particular one was candy apple red with black trim. Management was upset that the R150 line hadn’t sold well and were considering discontinuing production. Bob considered that a shame and had always been fond of this particular trucks.

“That she is,’ the woman replied as she turned to face the salesman. She blushed and hopped down before pushing her sunglasses back up onto her face. “I hope you don’t mind me jumping up and down like that.”

“Not at all. The R150 can take it, though I’m surprised you were able to work the suspension as much as you did,” Bob replied.

“I… I have dense bones,” the young woman sheepishly replied.

“Really? I just figured you had a ton of implants.”

“Mostly just my Alimpetinum bones.”

“Implants?”

“Uh huh.”

“Must be expensive,” Bob replied. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“That they are,” the woman agreed.

“I’m Bob by the way. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“You’re Bob Phelps?” the woman asked. Bob nodded as he wondered how she knew his last name. He hadn’t thought she had scanned him, but those sunglasses made it hard to know for sure. “Sweet! I have something for you.”

Before Bob could even flinch or reply, the woman climbed back up on the R150’s bumper and reached into the truck’s bed. Bob frowned as she removed a backpack and opened it. The woman withdrew an envelope.

“Here you are. One letter from a friend of yours in Brooklyn,” the woman said. The salesman didn’t reach for the envelope. “Oh! Here’s my courier credentials. I really like this truck.”

Bob accepted the short transmission and examined the credentials. “ZCS?”

“Zoe’s Courier Service. I’m Zoe,” the young woman replied.

“Just Zoe?”

“Yep!”

“Ok. Do I owe you anything for delivery?” Bob asked as he accepted the letter.

“No. I did this run as a favor for a favor,” Zoe answered.

“Ah. Ok,” Bob replied.

“Bob, can we go for a test ride?” Zoe asked, flashing the salesman a bright smile.

“Ever drove something like this before?” Bob asked.

“I’ve driven trucks before, but that was a couple years ago. The last thing I drove was a GT4 motorcycle,” Zoe answered. She sent Bob another transmission. “Here’s my federal license.”

“Even your license just says Zoe,” Bob said. “You don’t have a last name?”

“Not anymore,” Zoe replied.

“Whatever,” Bob said as he walked to the passenger side and unlocked the doors. They got into the truck and Zoe adjusted the driver’s seat as Bob authorized the R150 for a test drive. “Just take it easy.”

*

Bob had a white knuckled grip on the dashboard as the R150s’ tires squealed as Zoe spun the truck to a stop.

“That was fun!” she exclaimed.

“Fun…right…”

“Bob, are you alright?” Zoe asked as she turned to look at the salesman.

“Just give me a minute,” Bob replied.

“Your heart rate is a bit high, Zoe mused.

“You think that’s funny?”

“No! I apologize,” Zoe replied. “It’s just Doc had said you were an agent like her.”

“Doc? Doc Brown?”

“The one and only,” Zoe replied. “Well, Claire is the only Doc Brown I know anyway.”

“You know Claire?” Bob asked as his demeanor became more serious.

“And Zane, Sonya, and Bill too,” Zoe answered. She smiled. “They all said to tell you hi by the way, so, hi!”

“Give me a minute to read this,” Bob said as he pulled out the envelope and opened it. He started to read.

“Doc told me that you might have a few jobs for me and that I could get a vehicle from you with a few off the book options,” Zoe said.

Bob grunted. “I might have use for a courier with your skills. I guess you want one of these.”

“Can I get a camper for it?” Zoe asked as she nodded.

“Yes.”

“Can I get the off the book stuff too?”

“Yes, within reason,” Bob replied. “Let’s go into the office to talk options.”

“Can I get some customized work done?” Zoe asked as they got out of the truck.

“If you can afford it. What are you thinking?”

“Grabber blue color with a clamshell camper. I want a passthrough between the cab of the truck and the camper,” Zoe replied.

“That would be time consuming and expensive. It would be slightly cheaper to build a new truck from the ground up with that sort of customization,” Bob said as he opened the office door for Zoe. “It would involve removing the rear seat.”

“Yeah. I also want the driver’s seat to be able to slide back, swivel, and recline. The cab will also need a small foldable table for the driver’s seat,” Zoe said.

“Campers have a dinette in them,” Bob pointed out as they arrived at his desk and sat down.

“I don’t want a dinette. I would rather use that space for a larger bathroom. I want a tub big enough for me to relax in addition to the toilet and sink,” Zoe replied. “That should also give me a little more storage room and bigger kitchen.”

“It should,” Bob agreed.

“Here, I have some plans,” Zoe said, sending the salesman another transmission.

“This isn’t half bad,” Bob replied. “You must have had a lot of time on your hands recently.”

“Nine months of bedrest.”

“Ouch. We can build an R150 based EarthRoamer.”

“EarthRoamer?”

“A customer build camper from the early 2020s.”

“That works. How much are we talking?” Zoe asked. “It’ll need to be armored and withstand EMP.”

“Guns too?” Bob asked.

“Maybe. I’m undecided on that,” Zoe admitted.

“We’re looking at least a million. Probably closer to 1.5.”

“Easy come, easy go,” Zoe muttered. Bob grinned. Under her breath she said, “I can afford that though it’ll only leave me a few thousand in reserve.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing important. I can afford 1.5 million though I would prefer less.”

“Ha. We all prefer things to cost less, but our vehicles are custom, handmade, and it’ll probably take three months or so to build,” Bob said.

“I have nothing but time,” Zoe asked. “Got any jobs for me?”

“Not at this time,” the salesman replied. He activated the holographic features of his desk. “But I do have a lot of options for us to work through. So, why the truck and camper instead of a van or RV?”

“I like the truck more because it’s fun to drive. Plus, it’ll come in handy when I go visit my aunt,” Zoe answered.

“So, about those options…”

Zoe gave Bob a bright smile. “Sounds fun. It's shopping after all!”

“Your smile really lights up the room,” Bob said, returning the smile.

“What can I say? It’s good to be alive.”

End