[ WP ] You and two friends use a new % 100 accurate death calculator , which tells you when you die and if it could be avoidable or not . Both your friends unavoidably die in their early and late 80 's , but it says you die avoidably in 5 minutes . You hear a knock on the door .

All three of us immediately shared looks of concern before Jim shot up from his position across from me and bolted for the door of the office. He slowed as he approached and peered around the corner towards the front door of the house at the end of the hall where we had all heard the knock. 
 
 `` What the fuck, dude, we need to leave like, now.'' Bobby was visibly shaken and starting to stand up slowly, eyes darting back and forth between Jim and me. A dumb, lazy smile had slowly taken shape across my face for the simple reason that my brain had n't caught up to reality yet. No way this was real. 
 
 Jim eased his way back into the office fully, glanced at Bobby and me, and then quickly agreed. `` Get yer shit and head towards the back. And keep fucking quiet, Bobby.'' 
 
 The concerned look on Bobby's face, coupled with Jim's stern directives, slowly created new synapses in my brain telling me this was for real. 
 
 `` Hey, wake the fuck up, okay?'' Jim pleaded with me. `` We know it works, remember? We know how accurate it can be.'' 
 
 Bobby had already packaged the machine and slung it on his back with his makeshift backpack. He gently grabbed my arm and guided me up from my chair. Jim scanned the front door one more time and crossed to the opposite side of the office to retrieve the gun. Seeing it in his hand again brought me back to life for real. Like the surge of emotion and the reality of our, of *my*, situation had just been sucked up into an unseen black hole, giving me clarity once again. 
 
 We heard another knock, only it was more aggressive, more like pounding. Clear as the day outside. 
 
 My eyes dashed across my desk, looking for our escape. `` The Jeep is in back, unlocked.'' I grabbed the keys from under a mess of papers and hurried to catch up with Bobby who was already passing the bathroom and into the connected workspace. This is where the machine was created. I ignored shivers as we continued to the back door that lead outside to a small carport, my rusty Jeep claiming slivers of shade under the deteriorated roof. 
 
 Jim deftly turned on the shower and closed the bathroom door as I was stepping out into the hot shade cast by the attached carport. Bobby was already inside the Jeep, slightly hunched in the back with the machine in his lap and his arms wrapped around it. I jumped in the driver seat and turned the ignition. The engine turned over and roared to life. Jim quickly hopped in back alongside Bobby and directly behind me. 
 
 Wasting zero time, I slammed it into gear and released the handbrake as we sped away from the house, all stealth abandoned. The windows were always down and the hot air that permeated the cabin began to swirl and blow from all directions. The dead-end nature of our street meant that the only way out was going to take us right by the front of the house and in clear view of whomever was there to ostensibly kill me. 
 
 Jim gripped the Oh Shit Handle with his left hand and readied the gun in his right. He was intent on seeing who it was. Whether or not he planned on shooting him, I could n't guess. 
 
 Cornering out of the back driveway of mostly gravel and dirt caused the tires to screech pretty loudly as they met proper pavement. I gunned the accelerator and involuntarily ducked my head a little as we soared past the house. I gambled a quick look at the man outside our door just to see if I could make any sense of what was going on. 
 
 He seemed surprisingly older than I had imagined, with a bald head and goatee, wearing glasses and business-casual wear that screamed chemistry teacher more than killer. I had no idea who he was as he stood there defiantly observing us make our getaway. 
 
 Jim cracked off two shots that appeared to miss and we were gone down the street. 
 
 `` What the fuck, man?!'' I yelled, the adrenaline fully kicking in. Bobby was mumbling something. He looked seriously disturbed. 
 
 `` Just keep going! He wo n't stop, just get as far away as you can!'' Jim sounded extremely nervous, no doubt receiving the same torrent of hormones I was. 
 
 Bobby was turning whiter than usual. He finally spoke up as we headed out of the neighborhood and onto busier roads, destination unknown. `` I fucking knew it, Jim, I fucking knew it. That guy, that guy -'' 
 
 `` Shut the hell up, Bobby, you're freaking out and talking shit,'' Jim interrupted. 
 
 `` He knows, man, he knows.'' Bobby really was freaking out, and it was starting to freak me out. 
 
 I had no idea what was going on, but clearly I needed to try and calm the situation. `` What the hell are you talking about, Bobby, you think you've seen that guy before? Seriously, dude, you're wigging out. Let's try to calm down and figure out what the hell we're doing. And where the hell we're going.'' 
 
 A loud crash and an angry jolt slipped the Jeep from my control, but only for an instant. Looking in my mirror, I simultaneously came to two realizations: One, somehow the chemistry teacher had not only caught up with us, but had *found* us and was trying to run us off the road. And two, even though I had been technically moving away from the house, I had taken one or two less than ideal turns in effort to get distance and buy time to think. In other words, I was on auto pilot. 
 
 Coming to my senses and of the area around me, I instantly went into evade mode and raced to the highway heading North. He easily followed in what looked like an old Volvo. Smaller than my Jeep, but certainly sturdy enough. 
 
 Jim looked like he was about to start shooting, but Bobby started screaming, `` Dude he knows we killed his family! He found us! He's gon na fuckin kill us!!'' He was getting hysterical. 
 
 `` What the hell is going on, Jim? Just what in the hell is Bobby taking about?!'' I knew what he was saying, what it meant, but I was having a hard time actually seeing the reality behind it. A problem for me lately, it seemed. 
 
 We were comfortably breaking the speed limit by now and the chem teacher was n't far behind at all. The small, four-lane highway was thankfully sparsely populated. 
 
 Jim feigned resignation, `` You knew it had to be tested. You knew that somehow we'd have to test the machine and make sure it was accurate. How did you think that was going to happen?'' His tone suggested that I was an idiot child that could n't comprehend simple concepts. 
 
 `` Jesus Christ, Jim, we DID test it. We tested it multiple times. Out in the woods, the animals, you remember? What the hell are you saying?!'' I was certain that the Volvo was going to make another move, I tried to stay focused. 
 
 `` Bobby and I.'' 
 
 `` Fuck that, Jim, fuck you. It's all you,'' Bobby interrupted. 
 
 Jim continued, `` BOBBY AND I…decided the machine needed a real test. Real subjects, man. Real world situations.'' 
 
 `` So you fucking killed somebody?!'' I was shocked. This could n't be happening. My friend had clearly lost it. 
 
 Taking advantage of my brief surprise at what Jim was confessing, the old family wagon made a quick move to try and come up level with us, but did n't quite make it all the way. 
 
 Bobby stared out into the brown and red valley of the desert below, his eyes glazing over as the ageing rail guard flew by in a blur of wood and rusted metal, `` Not somebody, some bodies. A whole family. We killed a whole family, man. Took our time on two of them. We recorded the predictions from the machine blind, then discussed at exactly what time we wanted each subject to…expire. Just like the animals in the woods.'' 
 
 Jim's bravado had melted away, and Bobby continued with an eerie resolve, `` The fucked up thing is we thought there was an error margin. That guy, the dad, the machine said he would n't die until like his seventies or something, and we knew he was in his fifties. We tried to drown him, but I guess it did n't work. Heh, I guess the machine was right.'' 
 
 `` This funny, Bobby? That guy is gon na end us. I ca n't fucking believe this right now,'' I was incredulous. 
 
 Bobby turned away from the open window with a small smirk on his face and looked at me through the mirror, `` It is kind of funny, dude, because up until just now I thought the machine had a margin for error. That guy showed up and thought we might all be dead. But then I realized that because he showed up, because he's alive, it means the machine was n't wrong. It's never wrong. Which means me and Jim are n't dying today, we're dying in our eighties. But not you.'' 
 
 Just then the Volvo executed an almost perfect PIT maneuver perfected by local police the world over, striking the side of my battered Jeep and sending us into a tailspin. We careened off the side of the highway, directly into a weak spot of the safety rail, and down a hundred feet to the valley floor below. I died instantly on impact. Jim and Bobby were n't wearing their seatbelts, but they were in the back of the vehicle and luckily survived. But without the seatbelts, they sustained major head trauma from the crash which rendered both of them comatose. They stayed in that state until they day they died.
