I held my breath as I looked up at Andrew, bracing for the worst. By some miracle, Andrew sat comfortably in his seat, his body only slightly pushed over to the right, his arms only nicked by the most minuscule pieces of glass.
I pulled myself up onto the passenger seat, relief filling my chest.
"Andrew, Riley, are you alright?" I asked.
"Yeah," Riley breathed in between shaky breaths.
"I'm okay," Andrew said.
Riley hadn't yet grown accustomed to the dangers of working with me. Not that a girl her age should have had to, but this was the world we lived in. Andrew wasn't fazed in the slightest.
"Good lord, Marie, your arm is dripping blood," Andrew remarked.
"Better me than you, it'll be good as new by the morning," I reassured him, "I've been in accidents where the first responders had to pull me out and I turned out fine. They didn't understand how I was still alive."
I hobbled out with Andrew to assess the damage. The driver's side door was mangled beyond recognition, fragile enough to pop off the hinges with even the weakest touch.
There was no way we'd make it to Miami now.
Six men emerged from the white van we collided with. All except one wore an all-black uniform, almost identical to the ones worn by the military, complete with its own bulletproof vest. The rifles attached to their hips made my stomach churn. They stood in a perfect linear formation, hands at their sides.
"Do you want me to go talk to the driver?"
"No, no, I'll go," I said and began walking forward.
I had to be suspicious of everything and fearful of nothing.
I propelled myself toward them, bearing weight on my injured ankle despite the pain.
A man in a tuxedo stepped forward.
"Don't just stand there! Come with me!" he screamed, his tone burning with anger.
His scream sent a chill down my spine.
"Yes sir," one of the men in the line said and trailed behind him.
"Move faster! Don't be afraid now! You weren't afraid before!" he barked.
The man in the black suit removed his top hat. His hair was chestnut brown and his eyes a vibrant shade of green. It didn't take long for me to recognize who he was.
"General Harding," I breathed, "thank you for your service."
"I must say, you have an exceptional standard of service at your hotels. I've stayed in at least ten around the country," he said.
It was hard to be annoyed with a man with such high status, though I didn't understand how he could manage to entangle himself in a disaster like this.
"Well, she's waiting," he said.
"Mrs. Linwood, I am so sorry, we were running a little late to Miami, and I was driving the car a little too fast, and didn't have enough time to stop," he stammered.
"No, he was driving one-hundred because he genuinely believed only immortals are out this late," General Harding corrected, making sure his agitation was heard.
I didn't understand how anyone in this world could make such an outrageous claim. Yes, the economy had deteriorated to the point that most humans only went to school or work, but of course there was always the exception. Not to mention the humans that worked the night shift.
I chuckled. "It's alright. People were advising me not to go on this trip for weeks. Maybe this is a sign I shouldn't go."
"No, I'll get you there, you're the keynote speaker. I'll drive this time," he reassured me.
"Oh, you don't have to do that, General," I said, flattered by his offer.
"You've already made half the journey. Besides, we wouldn't have to stop to rest because I can drive straight through. Your chauffeur can rest," he said.
"Oh, Andrew would like that," I said, "I guess we can."
"It's warm in the van, come," he offered, "while we wait for the police, I can remove the glass from your arm so it can heal faster."
I ushered Andrew and Riley out of the battered Tesla. The reserved half of my mind rang alarm bells. I mean, I was two seconds from taking a twelve-hour drive with someone who was virtually a stranger.
But from what I learned watching him through the eras, he was an honorable man. I would be safer with him than waiting hours for the tow truck to arrive. Emergency services were stretched beyond their limits nowadays.
The rest of the men standing in perfect military formation climbed into the back of the van. The general pulled the man responsible for the accident aside.
"At the end of this trip, based on your performance, we will discuss your employment," he warned in a low growl, "if you want this job, not even a hair better be out of place."
"Yes, sir," he said, and followed his comrades into the back of the van without a word.
Though he was an immortal, he had yet to reach full maturity. He was little more than a boy, debatably younger than Riley, a teen who hadn't even finished high school. It was common in this age for boys to leave school to start working at sixteen. They needed to support their families. Not all immortal families were as fortunate as mine. He deserved more grace.
"I'll get my first aid kit," the general said in a friendly tone, and moved to the back of the van.
The faint sound of police sirens tickled my ears just as he finished tending to my wounds.
"Your kindness is admirable, General," I said.
"It's no trouble," he replied, "please, call me Peter."
After a half-hour of worthless interrogation from the police, we were finally able to get back on the road. With the addition of Andrew and Riley, there was no room for me to sit in the back, not that I wanted to be in close proximity to five "soldiers". That gave me an inexplicable uneasiness.
"I hear you've been focusing on more business-related ventures these days," I said, breaking the awkward silence.
"I realized there was a market for it after the 2045 food riots, and took the opportunity to build my own security firm," he replied.
"Fair enough," I said, "are you going to the convention to protect a client or…"
"No, I've been invited to host the career panel for aspiring doctors. This is actually my first time. I always go with that many guards, mostly interns and first-year employees. A lot of people don't like me for this job. I'd rather save myself the extra battle."
"Yeah, I understand that. I've been going for twenty-nine years, though. The convention is usually pretty safe. It's mostly full of young people that want to make something of themselves. It's a decent environment minus the snobs, you know."
"You can never be entirely sure. After the third world war, a lot of the humans were just done with me. Some people in my town think I wanted this war. I retired, and that still didn't seem to be enough for some big human influencers."
"A lot of people were done with me too, once the depression hit. They think I should sell everything I have. They don't seem to know all the work I've done over the past seventy years to build all this."
To my utter shock, we arrived to Miami with an hour and thirty minutes to spare.