I-70 Cont. 3
I didn’t know what to say, so I let the silence build. Her eyes didn’t move from mine, piercing me. I finally spoke, trying my best to stare her back down.
“What sort of technician am I supposed to be, exactly?”
“You’re supposed to be an engineer, the man that will rebuild the great city that once stood not far from here, the city Topeka.”
She shuffled through a bag on her belt, retrieving a dog eared piece of light cardboard. A blank space on the back, the words “TOPEKA KS.” in the top left corner, and on the other side, an aerial view of a pre-war city in faded color, a capital building serving as the focal point. I suppressed a chuckle. She grabbed it back as carefully as she could.
“However, since you know nothing of the prophesy, you are obviously not him.” She seemed genuinely hurt, and started to slam her helmet back on.”
I sighed, and almost blew her off, then stopped.
“Wait, Topeka? You’re from Topeka?”
She nodded sharply.
“Then I think I can help you.”