Sequel: Life After Death ›
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Accidents Can Happen
Chapter 25
I didn't slow down until I reached William's Lake, a small town on the bank of the San Jose river about 50 miles north of Alkali Lake. From there I got on the main road and drove back south towards the border. I sped by border control breaking a crossing arm. I didn't care. I had seen enough of Canada to last me a life time. Once I was back in the States, I breathed a small sigh of relief. But I still didn't stop until I reached Seattle.
Hungry and exhausted, I got something in eat at a small diner on the east side of town. As I waited for my food, I stared out the window at the night sky and wondered about what to do next. It wasn't safe to go home, at least not yet. I had no relatives to seek sanctuary from. Each possibility I could think had a down side to it. But one possibility didn't, or at least its downside wasn't as bad as the others. I wasn't sure how far Las Vegas was from Seattle. 800 miles? 1000? Farther? I hadn't drove that far since my move from Boston to Philadelphia. And Las Vegas was a big city. What were the odds I would be able to locate John with nothing but his name? I pushed that question to the back of my mind as I payed for my meal.
*
The actually distance between the two cities was 1160 miles. It was late in the day when I turned on to the Vegas Strip. I had driven through the night and morning. It took me a hour to find a pay phone with a phone book still intact. There was only one John Wraith in the book, set between a Warren Worthington and Regan Wyngarde. I ripped the page out of the large yellow book. Now that I had the address of a John Wraith, I just needed a map.
Finding a map wasn't difficult. People were handing them out all along the Strip. The map I brought for five buck folded out into a large square. The maps main focus was on the Strip but it did show the less popular streets, through it was almost impossible to read the microscopic print. I studied the map, ignoring the gold stars that represented hotel and purple dots that labeled the casinos. I finally found the street that John Wraith lived on. The street ran parallel to the Strip, but there were three streets that separated them. I folded the over priced map up and slipped it into my back pocket. I then turned the car back on and headed for Forbes Avenue.
*
195 N Forbes Ave. I looked up from the torn paper to the number on the building, 195. The building looked more like a warehouse than an actual home. The outside was a dreary cement color. A large window was placed on the right side of the metal door. Light shown through the window but the glass was frosted so it was impossible to see inside. I stood in front of door for a minute wondering if I should call first or if I should knock or just walk in. In the end I decided to for go calling and to just knock. I exhaled heavily as I hit the door calmly twice with my fist.
Hungry and exhausted, I got something in eat at a small diner on the east side of town. As I waited for my food, I stared out the window at the night sky and wondered about what to do next. It wasn't safe to go home, at least not yet. I had no relatives to seek sanctuary from. Each possibility I could think had a down side to it. But one possibility didn't, or at least its downside wasn't as bad as the others. I wasn't sure how far Las Vegas was from Seattle. 800 miles? 1000? Farther? I hadn't drove that far since my move from Boston to Philadelphia. And Las Vegas was a big city. What were the odds I would be able to locate John with nothing but his name? I pushed that question to the back of my mind as I payed for my meal.
*
The actually distance between the two cities was 1160 miles. It was late in the day when I turned on to the Vegas Strip. I had driven through the night and morning. It took me a hour to find a pay phone with a phone book still intact. There was only one John Wraith in the book, set between a Warren Worthington and Regan Wyngarde. I ripped the page out of the large yellow book. Now that I had the address of a John Wraith, I just needed a map.
Finding a map wasn't difficult. People were handing them out all along the Strip. The map I brought for five buck folded out into a large square. The maps main focus was on the Strip but it did show the less popular streets, through it was almost impossible to read the microscopic print. I studied the map, ignoring the gold stars that represented hotel and purple dots that labeled the casinos. I finally found the street that John Wraith lived on. The street ran parallel to the Strip, but there were three streets that separated them. I folded the over priced map up and slipped it into my back pocket. I then turned the car back on and headed for Forbes Avenue.
*
195 N Forbes Ave. I looked up from the torn paper to the number on the building, 195. The building looked more like a warehouse than an actual home. The outside was a dreary cement color. A large window was placed on the right side of the metal door. Light shown through the window but the glass was frosted so it was impossible to see inside. I stood in front of door for a minute wondering if I should call first or if I should knock or just walk in. In the end I decided to for go calling and to just knock. I exhaled heavily as I hit the door calmly twice with my fist.