HIGHWAY HYPNOSIS
Written for the 2024 Delta Green Shotgun Contest
Drive up Interstate 95 North in the depth of winter, detouring through the middle of nowhere, on a night with no moon. To the left, snowy, silent mountains quilled with trees. At the right, the black, seamless connection between land, sky, and sea. As the night goes on and the temperature drops. The hair on the back of your neck begins to rise, cold indistinguishable from inexplicable fear. A glance at the overbearing brightness of your without-signal phone shows a different time than the dim glow of the dashboard. Neither number matches your watch.
Have you ever made a mistake?
BRIEFING
“Every year, a number of people go missing along Interstate 95. The problem is that several of them return from their trips years after they vanished, not having aged a day. The lucky ones among exhibit missing time phenomena, amnesia, hysterical fear, and catatonic depression. The unlucky ones rapidly crumble to dust. In the old days, I-Cell’s primary duty was this phenomenon. Their lead, IMPLANT, missed his last check-in with his partner IRIS on September 10th, 1993. Something tried his SOS code on their tracking system an hour ago.”
The briefing is contained within a package one of the Agents picked up from a PO box in Savannah. The box contains a manilla folder, and the keys to an unmarked white panel van with tinted windows. The van is conveniently in the parking lot adjacent to the PO box, underneath an evergreen oak. Inside the van there’s an envelope filled with loose quarters, a bunch of outdated toll coins, and seven $100 bills. There’s a pair of sunglasses tucked into both the driver’s side and passenger’s side mirrors.
Coordinates to IMPLANT’s last known location are on the inside of the folder, along with instructions for operating an odd device in the glove box of the van: a squat little display showing the daisy chain of all of I-Cell’s rudimentary contact beacons for time travelers. According to the device, IMPLANT’s 12 hours north, likely 14 if the Agents get fouled up in the swirling miasma of D.C. traffic. As the Agents drive, they’ll see IMPLANT’s trackers ping the system every half hour: he’s moving south towards the Agents.
THE MAIN DRIVE
Give the Agents space to interact with each other. Is anyone familiar with this route? Encourage the Agents to speculate about the nature of the incursion. Ask who wears seatbelts on a roadtrip. Who grabs the aux cable from the glovebox?
IMPLANT’S Reports
Inside the manilla folder are copies of IMPLANT’s notes for the Agents to peruse on their long trek north. Annoyingly, they’re presented in the form of photographs of IMPLANT’s laptop screen. Seems his cellmate IRIS didn’t want to create a text file.
Interviews are presented like a stage play with IMPLANT’s in-the-moment observations added to the interview dialogue in post. Commonalities include what Occult >40% knows are all the alien abduction highlights: weightlessness, broken time, other figures backlit by harsh lighting, and cold temperatures. Occult >60% points out that the victims were uncommonly able to control their own bodies and actions in the scattered memories they do retain.
Einstein, the youngest child of a family of five, claims to have disappeared this winter— as in the same month that the Agents are looking for IMPLANT. Einstein reappeared with frostbite in the middle of June 1993, along with his older brother Stephen and no one else.
Stephen, Einstein’s older brother, remembers the future much more clearly. At 12, he’s old enough to know that neither of his parents had been born yet in 1993. There’s no way for the two of them to go home. More importantly, Stephen remembers what happened to his family: “I made a mistake.” These two kids were the most recent interviews IMPLANT conducted.
At the end of the reports is a handwritten note from IRIS: “children missing, IMPACT erratic. Last beacon ping at 8pm 9/10/1994. I hope he got what he wanted.”
IRIS’ Casefiles
IMPLANT’s partner IRIS died two years ago. She never stopped believing IMPLANT would return. The van, the folder, and everything else were the green box answer to a go-bag she’d put together in anticipation of this moment. IRIS also set up a transponder system with IMPLANT back in the 90s and maintained it until her death. It’s a rough system of beacons that allow for the triangulation of positions in reference to I-95. Several have burnt out since her death. The glovebox device shows a series of coordinates and timecodes. NAVIGATE >40% or SIGINT >40% quickly figure out they’re the triangulation results of subdermal trackers in each time traveler I-Cell met— and in each member of I-Cell. This can be verified by checking the nearest tag coordinates: Bonaventure Cemetery in Savannah, where IRIS now rests.
A folded map showing I-95 from the early 2000s has a list of coordinates for beacons and resupply green boxes I-Cell prepared, usually lockers at rest stations. Some beacons have fallen into disrepair, but they broadly still serve their purpose: giving the subdermal trackers something to bounce off. A few of the beacons have gone out and need their batteries replaced. The beacons are conveniently in the green boxes since Agents can buy new batteries in the convenience stores at the rest stops.
Roadside Attractions
At the first rest stop an Amber Alert goes out for two children: Stephen Albert and Einstein Albert, two young black boys whose parents are also missing. If the Agents already read about Stephen and Einstein in IMPLANT’s reports, they recognize the kids’ names. 0/1 SAN to realize that the kids went missing within hours of IMPLANT reappearing in the present.
At the second rest stop, Agents find the kids with a Search or Alertness roll. They were trying to buy snacks at one of the overpriced convenience stores using IMPLANT’s 1993 money, and failing. If the Agents don’t spot the kids, they do spot security coming over to check out the two black kids with a white man’s wallet. If not stopped by the Agents, Stephen and Einstein bolt out into the parking lot and vanish the second they see security moving their way.
The kids are surprisingly eager to go with the Agents. Einstein will admit they’re looking for IMPLANT; he claims to have preexisting relationships with everyone present, so they’ll help. 1/1d4 SAN. Einstein’s five, so he’s not going to be able to explain much more coherently. Stephen is in what First Aid >40% or Psychotherapy >30% call catatonic shock.
If they aren’t careful the Agents are going to get noticed for having the amber alert kids in an unmarked white panel van while wearing sunglasses and carrying envelopes stuffed with bills previously missing from circulation. After 6 hours at the wheel an Agent takes a -10% penalty to skill checks due to mental fatigue and highway hypnosis. If Agents choose not to rest or sleep overnight, they gain exhaustion.
CRASH OUT
Throughout the drive, Stephen grows increasingly anxious. At a certain point, a man seems to appear as a blinding outline, reflecting the van’s headlights from far too close. At the same moment, Stephen scrambles forward to yank the wheel. The driver rolls Drive -40%. On success, the car careens off a patch of ice and crashes. On a fail, the car collides with IMPLANT. Adjudicate the crash damage as per the vehicle impact rules on page 95 of “The Agent’s Handbook”. The Agents receive half damage in the crash, but only if wearing their seatbelts.
IMPLANT is not so lucky. If he’s dead, the Agents find items on his person that confirm his identity. He’s got the kids’ modern cellphone, which has pictures of the brothers taking selfies with a living, younger IRIS. He’s also got a backup wallet with another set of identifications inside. Bureaucracy or Criminology >30% confirm that all the IDs are well-made forgeries. More damning, none of the bills or coins in his wallet are dated past 1993.
IMPLANT’s condition is poor, even without being hit by a white panel van. There’s a glassy look in his eye that Psychotherapy >30% can tell is deeper than shock. He’s confused, exhausted, and freezing cold in the winter weather.
Einstein has six hitpoints, and Stephen has ten. If Stephen survives, this is the mistake he was concerned about. He stumbles away from the crash site, either towards his brother or IMPLANT, whoever is more injured. Agents can attempt to make rolls to intervene during the crash to protect the children.
If IMPLANT survives and the children don’t, he’ll attempt to hijack the car from the Agents, or hitchhike as soon as possible. He can fix this, he has to be able to fix this. All he has to do is go back. If left unsupervised, IMPLANT will.
REWARDS
- If the timeloop breaks, +1 SAN.
- +1 SAN if IMPLANT survives.
- +2 SAN if both brothers survive.
Word Count: 1499
Credits
Highway Hypnosis was written by Bird Bailey for the 2024 Shotgun Scenario contest.
Source: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1kM2mDfVnQznHir-2AbHXwtU8oHypqS9VxMqhnzzqWro/edit