Going to Pasalacqua

We arrived in LA, Mike drove us to the address officer Randy had given me. When we arrived, my heart leapt into my throat- there were ambulances gathered outside of the building. Two people were being brought out on stretchers. I threw open the door and was running towards them before Mike had even stopped. I ducked under the police tape and examined the bodies on the stretcher. Both were male, and had suffered facial injuries. I cringed and felt my stomach lurch at the sight of the second man, he had a crowbar piercing his eye. Shoved right into the socket. I had to turn away. What threw me off the most is that both the men were officers. Who was that brutal? What sickened me most is that Adeline is probably with him.

I ran inside the warehouse where officers were flocking the entrance. 

“Officer Randy!” I sighed with relief an jogged towards him.

“Billie? What are you doing here?”

“Where's Adeline?” I demanded.

He pursed his lips “They were gone when we got here. He brutally injured to of my men. We found a man and a woman shot dead when we entered. According to their id's they're names were Jakob and Jessica. Did you know them.

I shook my head. 

“So Adeline's not even here?”

“No, they took off north into the woods and we followed their tracks to the highway, then they are untraceable. We don't know if they turned left or right.”

I nodded and thanked him for what information he'd given me. I looked around the warehouse a little more, but couldn't find any evidence of her presence here. Randy said they ran north into the woods... Maybe I should start from there.

I went outside and waved Mike over with the van. I followed the faint trail of trampled ferns until I found a small clearing. There were oil stains in the grass and a fresh set of tracks down the dirt road ahead. I hopped into the passengers seat and we drove the road. Looking for anything unusual. 

When we came to the highway, it was wide open without any trace of her either way. Just like Randy said... Untraceable. 

Adeline's Point of View

“Take this.”

He shoved a vial of pale pink liquid. I sniffed it and it smelt like strawberry. But not in a good way, like the super sweet, artificial smell. I wrinkled my nose and pushed it back at him.

“Pass...”

“Adeline, dammit... Just take the medicine.”

I felt fine, but he was sick of me. I had a pretty good idea what would happen when I  drank it. It would probably make me pass out for a couple good hours and miss all the scenery.

“Fine... At least play along for a little bit.” 

We were parked in Los Angeles's airport. I was still seated uncomfortably in the front seat, tearing at the harness every chance I got, I watched him cap the vial and drop it into his backpack. He pushed his black sunglasses farther up on his nose and pulled a grey beanie over his head despite the heat. 

“Hold still.” he ordered, placing  a pair of dark brown tinted sunglasses over my eyes. I still jerked my head backwards, and he looked ready to strike me, but since we were in a public parking spot, he didn't dare lay a finger on me. He grumbled some frustrated words and adjusted his beanie in the mirror, hopped out and pulled on his backpack and walked around to my side. Opening the jeep door and undoing all the buckles, lifting me from the jeep and set me on my feet. And wrapped a arm tightly over my shoulders.

“Nothing stupid, got it?” he hissed into my ear. I barely nodded and shuffled along beside him. Incapable of shooting helpless glances at the few people we passed. I would have yelled for help in a heartbeat if I couldn't see the dangerous silver glint of his pistol in his waistband. He would probably shoot all witnesses dead in a moments beat. 

We walked towards a black Mercedes. The windows tinted midnight black and the paint was sleek and it looked fast just what we'd need to outrun my saviors. He dug a lock picking set from his backpack and poked it around in the drivers lock. When it clicked, he opened the door and hopped in, unlocking the passengers door and went to work hot-wiring the car. 

I sat down and waited patiently. Looking out the windows to see my surroundings the color of midnight. I sighed and shoved my hands deep into my jacket pockets. It wasn't even my jacket. My captor, who had introduced himself on the drive as Jack 

Unusual and reminded me of a cliché horror movie name. 

Anyways, he gave me the jacket and told me “Not to fuck it up...” I was still wearing the same clothes as a week ago. I smelt like shit and felt gritty with dirt and slick with sweat.   My hair was up in a knotted bun now. 

Jack was like Dr. Jackal and Mr. Hyde in a lot of ways. Sometimes he was nice to me and smiled. Sometimes he joked around with me and laughed. But less than five minutes later he was trying to kill me again. It was a daily routine that he tried to kill me. But something would always stop him. He'd wince and back away, apologize quickly and lock my door. Leaving me alone, locked in a warehouse office awaiting freedom. 

Yesterday before we had a misunderstanding and he tried to shoot me. Before the cops came, he was pissed that morning. I made the mistake of making simple small talk and asking him what was wrong. He went all Mr. Hyde on my ass and filled a bucket of ice cold water, knotted all my hair into a ponytail and punched me in the stomach so I wouldn't take a deep breath first. My head plunged beneath the surface and my cheeks went instantly numb, my skin started to burn for a flush. I had little breath and ended up inhaling some water. 

I kicked his leg and jerked my head up, coughing madly and shivering as the freezing drops fell down my back and soaked my shirt. Within a few minutes, I heard him sigh in frustration behind me.

He paced in front of me and shoved the thin jacket into my shivering hands.

“Don't ever think I'm doing this for you.” he snapped.

“My dad will have my ass if I kill you... Let's just say it's becoming increasingly difficult to keep you alive.” he seethed.

I looked over at him now. He started the ignition, just as I heard a ring coming from his backpack. He pulled out his cellphone, a bulky chunk of plastic that I would have laughed and teased him about had the situation been lighter. 

“Yep, we'll be close to there soon. I've taken great care of her, Dad. Don't worry. She's fine!” he laughed. Shooting me a dirty look to tell me to shut up. 

“Absolutely. I've hinted to her about what you have planned in her immediate future... Of course. Bye.”

He smirked at me “Just Daddy calling to check in on you.”

I glared at him “I will be saved.” I warned him.

He nodded slowly, still smirking. “Maybe, maybe not. Guess it's all in the cards, isn't it?” he grinned, backing out of the parking spot and speeding off towards the highway. 

I watched his every movement carefully, discreetly. I read the road signs. Trying to figure out where we were going. I saw a few signs to city names I recognized. But after fifteen minutes of driving... Almost all signs were extinct and I couldn't even pronounce most of the city names. All Jack told me was that it was about a forty-eight hour drive. But since we have to be sneakier, probably eight hours tacked on. Fifty-six hours of driving ahead of us. 

“My full name is Jackson William Uley.” he announced proudly out of nowhere.

“Ok... Not sure why you'd say that.” I frowned. 

A few moments of silence passed by before he spoke again. “This is the part where you tell me some fact about yourself.” he encouraged.

I stayed silent for a minute. Trying to think of something about myself I'd be willing to share “I dong trust you, I'm not going go tell you anything.” I answered stubbornly.

He rolled his eyes “Ok... I'll tell you more about myself. I was born in Minneapolis. Lived with my mom and dad until I was twelve and my dad killed her for money. Ummm... Hang on while I think of more... Oh, I had a pet goldfish and rabbit. I practiced throwing knives at my bunny and shot my goldfish through the bowl with the gun Id gotten from my dad on my fourteenth birthday. Dad used to take me hunting every fall. And now we work together in a assassination project. My dad wants you he wont tell me why, just that you are the reason for everything. My dad used to play guitar too.”

I gave him a confused look “Why would you mention he played guitar? It's kind of out of place.” 

He shrugged and focused on the road “Just wondering if it'd strike any memories with you.”

“So I've met your dad before?” I challenged.

“Several times.” he said flatly. 

“But you told me that you knew nothing about my assassination project?” I countered.

He shrugged but his eyes darkened “He told me enough to get you rounded up. Hey, did you know you've met me before too?” he grinned.

“Right, I think I'd remember meeting a psychotic killer in my life time.” I said sarcastically. 

He rolled his eyes and dropped the conversation. I gladly looked out my window as a excuse not to look at him. 

I rested my head against the cool window and closed my eyes just to have a visual of Billie. Just a thought.

“No, no, Adie. It's first finger here, second finger here and third finger up here all alone.” 

Billie grinned proudly at his achievement. Me fretting a chord, the magical G chord. I rose my syenite questioningly at him as he held Ollie's camera in my face and it flashed. Momentarily blinding me. I blinked several times to clear the colorful blotches in my vision. 

“This is hard.” I complained. My fingers were already sore and red and stung from behind held in the same position for five minutes.

“You get used to it.” he cooed. Pinching my cheeks, I shooed him away and tried once again to play.

“You only slept a hour?” he scoffed. “I could totally outsleep you any day.” he grinned with satisfactory. 

I sat up a little straighter and my neck and back felt sore. I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed them, but they seemed to make the sleepiness worse.

I yawned “Fuck I'm tired...”

“Sleep in back then.” he gestured to the cozy backseat. I glanced back at his tempting offer.

“I'm not that tired.” I amended.

“Sure you are, go ahead and go to sleep.” 

I had to admit- tired as I was, it didn't change the fact that he couldn't be trusted. But my exhaustion was blurring my alertness, and I couldn't have that when it came time for me to face my opponent. I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed in back. Hearing the backseat doors lock, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the leather seat. 

Billie's Point of View

I hopped out and paced the patch of dirt and dandelions outside the van. I tugged at my hair, she could be anywhere by now. 

“Dude, get back in the van, you're not helping Adeline any by pacing like a overprotective self-pity wallowing fool.” Mike called through the open passengers window. I winced, as much as I wanted to throw his words back at him with all the hurt, it wasn't Mike's fault. It was mine. I should have gone with her and watched her. 

I punched the van door and hopped in. Ignoring the sting dancing along my knuckles. I bit my lip as Mike drove back to the crime scene. What was I supposed to do? I had no idea where to go, where to start. 

When we parked, I hopped out lazily, noticing officer Randy running towards me.

“Billie! Someone just reported a missing car at Los Angeles' airport. Witnesses say they saw a man with a girl picking the locks. It could be her, I'm heading to the station to question our witnesses, I'll be back in a few hours.”

I was frozen in shock for a minute as he walked away.

“Hey!”

He turned around and paused midstep.

“Mind if I come?” I hedged. I nodded and waved for me to follow him. I told Mike where I'd be and to pass along the news to Tré. I hopped into the front seat of officer Randy's car and we headed to the station. 

I figured I'd be able to help them more. They hadn't seen anymore of Adeline than a few pictures. I could write a entire chapter book on every detail of Adeline's eyes, hair and physical appearance.

We went inside, I had a giddy hype to my step as I walked beside Randy to the interrogation room. 

The first witness was a man in his fifties with balding head and glasses. So if he wore glasses, I figured he probably didn't have very good eyesight and should be dismissed straight away. But he ended up being the best of the three. Y'know why? Because he was a ex-writer. He was good with descriptions and detail.

“There was a man. He was wearing a red flannel shirt and boots. Dark sunglasses and a grey beanie. I couldn't tell the hair color, but he abandoned a yellow jeep in the parking lot a hundred yards from the stolen car. I noticed he sat in the car for a few minutes, looked like he was having a low argument with the passenger. He got out and she did, too. She looked about... Maybe seventeen, eighteen. Really short. She was wearing black shorts, a grey hoodie, and some really beat up black Chuck Taylor's.”

That's all it took to set my mind.