Zach, Spencer, and Claire walked through the congested sidewalks of New Delta City’s Circle Park. The first days of summer were upon them and the city always celebrated with a block party that spanned from one end of the park to the other over a mile away.
Show cars lined the parking lots for everybody to see. Citizens got to sit in crime fighting cars from the Justice Ensemble. Dark Rat’s Stealth Hummer was always the most popular destination. Its dents and scratches told the stories of the Dark Rats constant battles against evil. It was severely contrasted by GreatGuy’s six wheeled jeep. The jeep was near mint. GreatGuy could fly, so he rarely used any mode of transportation.
All kinds of games and rides filled most of the park. Clowns, performance artists, families, adventurers, and those weird people that didn’t even know an event was happening that day all mixed together into a single clash of congestion.
Spencer’s stomach grumbled. Luckily, he and the others were standing in line at one of the many food trucks tucked away in the center of Circle Park. Unluckily, the line was long. All of them were.
“Maybe we should try somewhere else,” suggested Zach. “I saw some trucks scattered along the outskirts.”
“No!” said Spencer, followed by another growl of his stomach. “We’re not going to a carnival truck. We’re eating here.”
“We’re going to be here all day,” said Claire. “I wanted to see some of the shows. Just grab a pretzel and we can eat later.”
“No,” said Spencer again. “I’ve been craving a moon burger for days. I’m staying in line.”
“We can get a moon burger at Apollo’s grill later,” said Zach.
Spencer scoffed at the idea. “Apollo’s is a joke. Their burgers have spent too much time on Earth in the freezer before they get to us.
“Ross’ Well Tasting Moon Burgers transports their burgers from the moon every night. Freshly chilled in deep space and then cooked in the atmosphere upon reentry. These are the best!”
Zach and Claire stared at Spencer in a flabbergasted awe.
“I’m going to go get a pretzel,” said Zach.
“A show starts in five,” said Claire. “I’ll see you later.”
“Mind if I join you?” Zach asked.
“Sure!” said Claire.
“But I thought we were hanging out today?” Spencer called out as Zach and Claire made their leave.
“We’ll be back after the show!” Claire yelled back.
“You’ll be here!” Zach followed up.
Zach and Claire didn’t hear what Spencer yelled back. They made a beeline through the heavy crowd of attendees. Zach set his eyes on the first carnival truck he could see. After several grueling minutes of pushing and shoving they had arrived.
“You want anything?” Zach asked.
“I could go for a water,” said Claire.
Zach smiled. “No problem.”
“What can I get you?” asked the cashier.
He turned to the cashier. “A pretzel and two waters please.”
Zach reached for his wallet. Instinctively, he brushed his hand across his nose to ease an itch as he pulled out some cash.
“You don’t want a pretzel?” Zach double checked with Claire.
“I’m good,” said Claire. She looked at her watch. The show was about to begin.
“You can find us a seat if you want,” said Zach, also concerned for the time.
“We’ll be fine,” said Claire. She nodded toward the cashier behind Zach opening the window.
Zach turned around. He reached out to grab his order of the pretzel and two waters. Instead, he was handed a briefcase.
“What is this?” Zach asked.
Before the cashier answered he slapped a handcuff around Zach’s wrist. The other end was attached to the briefcase.
“You’re late,” said the cashier in a surprisingly deeper voice. “We’ve been waiting for the signal all morning. We thought something had gone wrong.”
“Is my pretzel in here?” Zach asked, still trying to figure out what was going on.
“Good luck, agent,” said the cashier. Then he closed the service window. To his left another worker in the truck turned the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.
Groans echoes around Zach as hungry patrons grew upset at the loss of an eating option. The carnival truck’s windows were then completely blocked out. Metal grates locked shut, completely concealing those inside.
Zach remained by the cashier window, helpless, with a briefcase handcuffed to his left wrist.
“What just happened?” Zach wondered out loud.
“Is your pretzel in there?” Claire asked.
To be continued…