Chapter I, part 2

Mike got out of his car and paced, trying to come up with an excuse to not light a cigarette, or scream, or both. Smokes had gone to over $8 a pack earlier in the year, finally making them unobtanium for all but the most dedicated smoker, but he still bought a pack every week or so. He'd figured the $40 per month saved wasn't worth the stress of quitting all out. That, and being forced to quit by politicians just didn't sit right with him. There was a deal that he made with himself in regards to smoking awhile back that centered around smoking only for the pleasure of it, and not as a vice. Times like this made that deal awfully hard to keep, and he lit up anyway.

The hollow sensation in his gut had turned into a whole body enveloping red-hot rage, which is why he had pulled off in the first place. His anger had plagued him his whole life, but he'd at least learned to manage it over the years. The combination of the cool air, the rush from the nicotine, and focusing on the reality of his current situation steadily calmed him after a bit.

The reality was that he should have just waited out the freeway closure, rather than getting impatient and driving around the long way. There had been news stories on the increase in traffic enforcement in this particular county a few years back, but the practice was rising pretty much everywhere. The state had abstained from the practice so far, with the exception of commercial vehicles. But individual counties and municipalities that were cash strapped saw increased enforcement as a revenue source, and the state had gone along by raising fine limits. Even the DMV was helping by streamlining the revocation and suspension processes. If you didn't pay within time, usually 10 days, your license was gone instantly. Most of the courts cranked up court costs, and some required prepayment if you decided to fight the ticket. Ironically, the court costs were about what the ticket was, so it really wasn't worth it. The official spin on all of this was "safety", of course. With plowing and maintenance cutbacks, they had to show something besides full coffers. It was almost funny, Mike thought. It wasn't all that long ago that the roads were crowded with people running 10, 15 over, bumper to bumper. Now, with the crackdowns combined with $6 plus for a gallon of gas, what few people were out here were all going 10 under. How could it not be safer?

After about 10 minutes of pacing, and convincing himself it was just his turn on the wheel of fate, Mike got back in his old Honda, and headed back out on the 70. As he passed the scales at Downieville, he made note of the backup that actually forced a significant slowdown, and a lane change. The State Patrol had taken over commercial enforcement a few years back, in an attempt at consolidation of state agencies. That hadn't gone over well with the trucking companies, or their drivers. It was estimated that the shakedown cost an average of $300 per trip across the 70. Fuel stations, trucking companies and repair shops across the state had closed left and right in the last few years as more transporters routed there freight through other states. That included the fuel stop off the 50 in his hometown, where Darcy had worked as an auditor. That had been over a year ago.