The Runouw.com Connection Part 2 *COMPLETE*

[zebtrestalala]

Why did Ema bring the doll with her to the bridge? I was a bit confused on that point. And MIC is playing Private Eye by seeing Sam's sister? coolio.

Anyway, as long as it keeps making sense and using good technique, keep it up!

[MessengerOfDreams]

Part two should be up tomorrow. And who said Mic was playing private eye?

[MICrophone]

Zeb did.

Anyway, rest of Chapter 2 posted.

[MessengerOfDreams]

BTW, we are now officially running the story without Ridder, due to her extended absence and her lack of interest anyways, so stories will start coming out again.

[MICrophone]

Chapter 3 has been released!!!

BTW, if Ridder returns from her prolonged absence and is still interested, she'll take whatever the next chapter is at that time and then we'll alternate like we were supposed to before she disappeared.

[Kimonio]

I feel special....for the tenth time today.


Keep it up, M&M!

[MICrophone]

M&M…lol, thanks Kim!

Anyway, I conveniently did not reserve posts on the first page, and as such have run out of room. So the story will be continued here. Why, do you ask, did I not reserve space? Simple, really.

Gee, I wrote a very lengthy story in The Return of the Legendary Twelve and was able to fit it all into one post. So, I should have no problem fitting this all into one post!

Somehow, despite The Return of the TLT being twelve fairly lengthy chapters and not running out of room, I have somehow run out of room here after only four. Grr…anyway…don't forget to comment peoples!



Chapter 5 - MOY

Narration of Buffy Clark

I couldn’t be happier as I saw Mic hug his parents, crying shamelessly, with a mixture of both joy and sadness. Man, I felt like I was going to cry as I bit my lip. Even Sam couldn’t help but grin like the Joker… a lot less nightmare-giving, true, but you get the picture. Ema grabbed his arm and I could tell she was biting her own lip. Kim was still a little shaken over the Red Apple Market blow-up, but, hey, newbies usually never are prepared for their first explosion.

Suddenly, a civilian car pulled up. A 2004 Scion TC with a giant Brown N on the side. Oh bloody lawd.

Nicolas Locke stepped out of it, followed by his Japanese girlfriend - I forget her name. “Bloody ‘eck!” he cried out. “The boy’s parents are alive! Good on ya, mate!”

Mic stood up and grinned.

“Who’s the handsome guy?” Kim asked me.

“Um, he’s taken, Kim, and come to think of it, so are you,” I replied incredulously.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” was the snappy reply.

“God almighty, we miss everything, Suki!” he laughed. Okay, he wasn’t supposed to be here, but nothing lights up the mood like a visit from Nicolas.

Sam gave him a thumbs-up, causing Nicolas and Suki to duck under the yellow tape and meet up with the two real officers. Meanwhile, Mic requested of some of the older police officers who were on the scene that video surveillance be put on the house along with a watch for the next several days, which was granted.

Suki, just about always quiet, asked, “What did we miss? I mean, besides everything?”

Ema, our gleeful narrator, kindly filled in the details for her as Nico went to see Mic. “Well, lookee here!” Nicolas called out.
“May I get ev’ryone’s attention, please? Don’t be making me get my bloody bullhorn!”

“He does have a bloody bullhorn!” Suki added. Then I heard her whisper to Nicolas, “How did you get blood on the bullhorn, that’s what I’d like to know.” Nic laughed a little but didn’t care to explain.

The small crowd of me, Ema, Sam, Mic, his parents, A few police officers turned their attention to a freakishly tall and very unorthodox Australian and his usually quiet Asian girlfriend, both of whom were 17 years of age. For the older police officers, that shows respect.

“Our little friend Mic over here has had the best, most movie-script-type day of his life today. And when I say movie-script-type, I say that in the way that he saves his parents, and nearly catches a criminal. Anyway, a round of applause to our young hero, Mic Davis!” Nicolas walked away, holding his thumbs up as he went. The nearby people shrugged and started clapping, Ema jumping up in the air and cheering. After a few seconds, he turned back to face the crowd.

“And one more thing - I will personally be holding a celebration for everyone here regardless of age in the honor of Mic Davis and his friends, Sam, Ema, new girl and Buffy, at my tavern on 47th, abso-friggin-lutely free of charge!” he shouted through his bullhorn.

This caused even more cheering.

“Mic, me mate, you are riding with me,” Nicolas grinned, winking again. He got in the back of the Scion, along with Suki. Sam raised his eyebrows, shrugged and got into the Crown Victoria the Portland Police owned, Ema following apprehensively. Sam was getting really hard to read lately. Kim followed them, ready for awkwardness. I got back in my own compatible-for-cripples Civic as we started down Flavel Street towards the tavern.

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Narration of Ema Felkis

Sam seemed to drive with his focus entirely on the road. This was so totally unlike him; he chats up a storm most of the time, a perk of the job. I decided to be up front with him.

“Sam, you aren’t worried about that hospital thing, are you? Mic seems totally over it.”

He shook his head, but it was hard to believe it when he looked away. “It’s not that. I just get worried. Now Dania and I are in trouble, and then Mic gets dragged into it. His parents were already endangered. Now that he’s connected with me, he’s in the crap, too.” He accidentally slammed the horn of the car in frustration, causing another driver to flip us off.

“Flipping off a police officer…you know there really oughta be a ticket for that.” Kim frowned.

“Well, it was my screw-up.” Sam quipped as we passed Mt. Scott Community Center, the place where we first became a group. He noticed and smiled. It was so nice to get that out of him. He grabbed my hand and abruptly told me. “I’m so glad I met you guys.”

I turned a shade of red so deep one might call it, “Embarrassment Red,” and replied, “I’m glad I met you too.”

“I’m going to like it here.” Kim added.

We drove on silently until we reached the tavern.

Niklaw’s Tavern was buzzing with people of all ages. We were able to convince a hospital worker to drive Dania over here, surprising Mic slightly. I was afraid he’d sock Sam in the stomach, but Sam made sure to add that this was more for himself than Mic.

Nicolas had hired a new server, Alex Card, to fill in for Mic during the case and afterwards. After all, business was booming. The six of us, Mic, Dania, Buffy, Kim, Suki, Sam and I, were lined up at the bar as Alex and Nico started preparing milkshakes. Mic couldn’t stop grinning; it was as if he had turned into a gargoyle. I couldn’t be happier.

“Milkshakes!” Alex called out. I greedily grabbed mine and shouted, “A toast to the Portland, Oregon Police Officers!”

Mic grinned. “To the POPO!” The entirety of us put our cups in the air and did a traditional toast. Sam grinned and looked at me happily. Glad the guy was finally lightening up. He took a big drink of the milkshake and asked, “Nicky, I would like a slice of that cake you made earlier, okay?”

Nicolas grinned and got out a slice for Sam. I found it odd that Sam started walking away, cake in hand. Then he threw the cake at me and it landed in my face. I fell off my stool to the ground.

“The bloody ‘eck?” Nicolas shouted.

I decided it would be advantageous not to get up. Sam started to freak out and ran over to me, lifting my head up into his arms. “Ema, you okay? Seriously, talk to me.”

I almost forgot what I meant to do. I scraped some cake off of my face and threw it at him. He laughed, scraped it off his shirt, and told me “IT IS ON, FOO!” He started chasing me, as we threw cake back and forth, and soon enough people started to follow our lead.

Buffy took her milkshake and poured it down Sam’s back. Okay, even I have to say that was a bit cold (get it?), so I took a salt shaker and started shaking it right in her face. Talk about a sneeze-fest. She fell into a booth, on top of her old boss, Brick Jackson, whose peas she took and started throwing at him.

“What the - Buffy, you high?” he asked.

“No, just always wanted to do that.” She laughed, running off.

Dania grabbed Mic and shoved his face into his cake. Alex took an orange and squeezed it in Suki’s hair. Kim just started throwing chips in the air, added, “Wait, I’m doing it wrong,” and then poured the entire bag on Nicolas. Pretty soon, a restaurant-wide food fight had erupted.

“What the - you people - look at all the - ah, screw it.” Nicolas said as he took a bottle of Sprite, shook it up and started aiming it at people.

Cue 30 minutes passing. The Tavern was a wreck. Nicolas was laughing as he got out some cleaning supplies. “Okay, peoples!” he called out. “Let’s get started! We had our cake, and threw it too. Now we gotta clean it up!”
I groaned and got up, pulling Sam with me. He immediately wrapped his arms around my neck in one of the nicest hugs I think I have ever gotten.

“Thank you” he whispered in my ear.

“For what?” I asked back.

“I never thought I would be this happy again.” He replied, letting me go.

I grinned, when I got a nasty shock. “Mom!” I shouted out.

“Holy crap, Ema that was… erm… schizophrenic.” Sam replied awkwardly.

“No, Sam.” I replied. “Your folks died, Mic’s almost died, and that just leaves me!”

Sam gasped, sinking back to the ground. “Sorry, but where do your parents live again?”

“Wyoming.” I replied, not at all offended.

Sam swore out loud and said “I saw our ninja when he got away. He broke into that RV Park across the street from where we were and stole an RV. I remember because he took a fence with him.” He sighed. “If there wasn’t so much danger involved, I would laugh.”

I smiled and asked “Do you think that some of the officers caught him?”

As if on cue, Buffy walked up and told us “Speaking of which, I got a call from an officer. Our ninja got away, heading east on I-84. Towards said Wyoming?”

“No!” I yelled aloud. “Sam, we gotta go after them!”

A protest started to form on his lips but he closed his mouth and nodded. “But how?” he added. “He could be so far away.”

“I don’t care,” I pleaded. “Please….” I started crying with no intention of manipulating him.

Great. Now tears were starting to come to Sam’s eyes. I felt worse and decide to buck up and squeeze his hand tightly. “We could always get our own RV and see if we can catch them,” I suggested.

Sam looked up at me. We’re about level with each other. “I do like an adventure,” he grinned. “That sounds like a good
idea. I think I got some leftover gas cards from my college, want to go?” He looked deeply into my eyes, so deep I nearly turned away from major embarrassment. “You, me, all them other people, voila! We hit the road and save your folks.”

Buffy called out “Count me in.”

Kim said “Ooh, Wyoming! Always wanted to go there!”

“And you miss.” Sam turned to Dania. “You are not going anywhere without me.” Dania nodded and added “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

"And you Mic?" Sam asked.

"I'd like to," Mic began, "but I think I'd better go to Italy instead."

“The furk?” I said. “Italy? Alone?”

“Hey, I can do a lot alone. I’m 15, remember?” Mic replied. “Not incompetent. I think I ought to interrogate the Italian police and our friend Elia. The sooner the better, you know?" He paused briefly, then continued, "Usually I know not what the laws are for minors travelling alone, so maybe you could play some cool police move to let me go alone."

“What’ll your parents think?” Sam asked.

“Well, let’s just say I’m restarting my internship with the POPOs.” Mic answered, as if he had thought this out already.

Sam nodded and said “Well, by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and…wait, wrong pronouncement. I now bestow upon you the title of 'overseas ambassador'. Best of luck to you.”

Mic laughed out loud (not that there is another way to laugh) and gave a thumbs-up.

“So it’s settled.” Sam grinned. “Right now, we go to the RV store. We follow their trail. We stop them before they get to Lander. Don’t worry, Ema.” He turned to me. “Yah be my witness, I will do everything in my power to save your folks.”

I turned away from his gaze upon the word, “folks.” Trying to smile, I put in “Well, let’s go.”

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Narration of Sam Eastman

Well, don’t trust Ema on that last statement. We didn’t just pack up and go right away. There were things to do.
First of all, we got Mic’s papers together, and more importantly, Mic’s parents' permission. Although they were extremely apprehensive, they agreed; after all, there were lives at stake. I still can’t help but admire their selflessness.

Over the next few days, we started following the assumed path of our ninja friend. According to police reports and with the assistance of our good friends at Niklaw’s Tavern, Nick, Suki and Alex, we were able to drive through the Columbia Gorge, across the Walla-Walla plains, the spectacular Clearwater Valley in Idaho, through the Montana mountains until we approached the small town of…not Lander, at least not yet.

We had just passed the town of Columbus, Montana, when I yawned as I drove the giant RV down I-90. “So, anyway, how is your relationship with your mom and dad?”

Ema sighed and turned away. Immediately I knew I said something wrong.

“What? Did I say something that offended you?” I asked.

“No, no.” She replied, and before I could press it further, she diverted, “Look, a rest stop. It seems so familiar to me. Anyways, pushing that thought aside. We need to stay here for the night so that way you don’t sleep on the wheel and kill us all.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, you seem more morbid than usual.”

She responded with “I’m growing up, finally.”

“Don’t,” was my response. “I still like you the way you are.”

All she could do was turn away with a hidden smile.

We pulled over, everyone else soundly sleeping. I went to dump the septic and Ema went to the bathroom - at the rest station, thank god. I plugged my nose and started connecting a hose to the porta-potty. Hey, better than throwing it on the ground.

Suddenly, Ema ran out. “Sam!” she cried out with glee. “I just realized that this was my favorite place when I was a kid.” She was dancing around happily.

I nodded happily and added “A rest stop?”
“No, silly. There’s a small state forest next to it. Across the little walking bridge. There’s a field of sunflowers there. I got to show you!”

“Ema, girl,” I started. “First off, it’s midnight. Second off, I gotta finish the septic.”

“Seriously?” she scoffed. “You’d rather be messing with human crap than trek into a field of sunflowers?”

I got to admit, she had a valid point. “Come on!” she giddily beckoned me as she grabbed my arm. And so we walked across the bridge to this famous field.

Life is perfect.



Chapter 6 – MIC

That Sam character narrates.

OK, I have nothing against sunflowers, but they're hard as heck to see at midnight. Ema, of course, appeared to have no problem, often commenting on some of the colors and shapes of the sunflowers as she dragged me along. I will never understand how women do that.

Anyway, so here she is, dragging me through the sunflower field, talking about the sunflowers and her childhood and how much she loved this place and so on and so forth, while all I could focus on is trying desperately to see where she was and what sunflowers she might possibly be talking about. I concede that there was a full moon and not a cloud in the sky, so I should've been able to see something, but I guess the smell of the septic must've gotten to my head.

Where was I? Oh yes, she was dragging me through the sunflower…wait, I said this already. Got to focus here. This part of the story is a little awkward to write about, you see. Just give me a few moments and I'll get it.

All right. So we walk through this sunflower field for about five minutes until it eventually occurs to me that I have no idea where Ema is and that her voice has gradually faded almost into a whisper. I tried to direct myself towards the traces of Ema's voice, only to successfully trip over some obstruction that I naturally couldn't see and fall face first into the dirt. Ouch. I slowly stood up, rubbing my clothing frantically trying to wipe off the dirt that I couldn't see. For that one moment, I was glad that I had lost Ema so that she wouldn't see that, because it was pretty embarrassing. After that, I realized that I had totally lost both my sense of direction and Ema's voice. I had no idea how to get back to the rest stop. Great, I thought. Of all of the places to get lost, it's in a sunflower field by a rest stop on a highway. I'm a police officer, for Yah's sake. This is just downright embarrassing.

Lacking any other ideas, I started frantically calling out, "Ema! Ema! Where are you?" No response. Surely she should've noticed that I wasn't with her and she would be coming back for me, right? I tried again. "Ema! Can you hear me?" Still no reply. Now I was starting to get a little afraid. Now what? She couldn't hear me, and if she couldn't find me, then I might be stuck here for a long while, and if I try to find the rest stop I'll probably go in the complete wrong direction and walk off a cliff and plummet to my death. And on top of it all, in the time that we're wasting, Ema's parents might be in serious trouble…

Suddenly, a tremendous force slammed into my back and I fell to the ground face first again. As I stood up to try to figure out what had hit me, somebody started laughing hysterically.

"Oh man, Sam," said the person, "if you could've seen the look on your face."

I turned around, and there in front of me was Ema, laughing so hard she was probably crying, but naturally I couldn't see her face so I had no idea if she was in fact crying. "Oh, I will kill you for that," I threatened, though I was only kidding. Still, I was pretty annoyed.

It was at this point that I had the marvelous idea of taking out my cell phone to use it as a light. Now I could actually see which was great. Ema was still smiling, and she was right, the sunflowers were beautiful. Which is the perfect cue for:

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" said Ema.

"You weren't kidding," I said, moving around my cell phone to examine small groups of flowers. They were brilliant shades; mixes of reds, yellows, and oranges in streaky lines and waves and whatnot. It was really quite something. Eventually we both sat down as I continued to examine the nearby flowers.

"I used to play in this field every time my parents took me on a trip. We would always stop here and we would run out in here and play and roll around in the flowers…well, before…." Ema trailed off.

"Before what?" I asked gently.

"Oh, nothing," Ema said, turning away.

"Come on, tell me. It might make you feel better."

Ema looked back at me, somewhat apprehensively, before sighing and beginning, "We used to be really close, my parents and me. We used to do so many fun things together. It was like that till I was eight. One day, my dad lost his job. He really loved that job and it was good money, but the company was suffering losses and needed to cut back. He went home that night, and got really drunk. My dad like to drink a scotch every now and again when he wasn't working the next day, but he never did anything like this before. Then, he got into a fight with my mother, and eventually he threw a flower vase at her head just as I walked into the room. She slumped to the ground, her face covered in blood. She was unconscious. I begged and pleaded for my father to get her help, but he was too drunk to care. I had to call 911 to get her help, and it was in the nick of time, because she might have sustained serious mental injury from blood loss."

I'm not very emotional, but this was a little sad. Actually, I thought I was gonna cry. Ema started to choke up but continued, "The police asked me how it happened. I could've told them it was my father, but he would've been arrested, and I couldn't have lived with that guilt, so I said that she tripped and slammed her head into the vase. But after that, I never spoke to my father again. Worse still, my mother sort of withdrew into herself, and she rarely talked to anyone. And so our family fell apart, because my father…got…got fired from his job one sunny afternoon." Ema burst into sobs, and her being the team cheerleader, this was a little depressing.

"Hey," I said, grabbing hold of one of her hands. "It's all right. You did the right thing, you know?"

"I know," she said through sobs, "but, it's just so sad…I didn't have a family during middle school or high school, and…and I…I just have always felt so lonely. That…that’s why I moved to Portland. I always act like I never knew why I came out here, but one day I told my mom I had found a college and she told me to go for it, as if…as if she didn’t really care. That’s when I knew it was time to go."

I pulled out a handkerchief (yes, I carry handkerchiefs with me; I'm old-fashioned and proud of it) and handed it to Ema. "Here," I said. I paused as Ema wiped the tears off her face. "But we're all here for you Ema," I continued. "Buffy, Mic, Nick and Suki, me, even Kim. You know they'll - well, I guess I shouldn't speak for them, though I imagine that they would say the same - but you know I'll always be there for you."

Ema looked me in the eyes (my god, those eyes of hers) and gave a weak smile between her fading sobs and also squeezed my hand. "I know, Sam, I know. It's just hard for me sometimes." We drew a bit closer, and I grabbed Ema's other hand.

"So you're all right? You're not gonna go commit suicide because I brought this up or anything?"

She laughed, to my delight, and we drew a little closer, though I don't think either of us noticed it at the time. "Nah, it's good to tell other people about it. Makes me feel like people care about me and my problems." And a little closer we drew. Our faces were less than a foot from each other now, and my heart was beginning to race a bit, if by a bit you mean, “Oh-my-god-my-heart-is-going-to-jump-out-of-my-body!”

"Good," I said, a bit awkwardly. "I'm glad."

She smiled again a bit. "Thank you Sam," she said, as we drew even closer. I put my hand through her hair.

"You’re welcome," I said, as we crossed the line. That godforsaken line that always put that awkward barrier between us for nearly a year.

At long last our lips touched…

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Oh hai thare. It's me, Mic. I hate to interrupt our little lovebirds here, but - who the heck am I kidding? I'm thrilled to interrupt! Fortunately, they don't know I've added this in, so I think I'm safe. I just wanted to say a few things. First of all, what a hypocrite! I know I said this before, but if I dare hold somebody's hand, I get beat up for it, but it's no problem if Sam does it. Second, I'm glad they finally got to this point. I mean, they'd been eyeing each other for who knows how long now, and quite frankly, it had been getting boring waiting around for something to happen. Thirdly, I seriously regret going to Italy. I so would've liked to be on the RV, and when Sam and Ema ran off to do their little romance thing, it would have made my life complete if I could've snuck up on them and caught them kissing and totally embarrassed them. But anyway, sorry about the interruption.

Oh, by the way, because I'm cruel like that, I'm going to spoil it for you. They don't kiss. Sorry to strip you of those warm, fuzzy feelings running up and down your spine, but hey, life sucks. Now, back to the show…

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Just as our lips touched, Ema pulled away from me. "What's wrong?" I asked, somewhat aggravated. I had been that close, but she had to pull away. Immediately I started searching for all of my possible character flaws.

"Listen," she said.

I listened for a few seconds, but didn't hear anything. My god, was I being punk’d? "You-" but just as I began to talk, I heard it. The RV's engine was running.

"Who would've turned that on?" asked Ema. "Buffy and Kim know we're staying for the night, and I can't imagine why they would turn the engine on."

Then, I heard screeching as the RV presumably pulled out of the rest stop, in a hurry it would seem. "Oh crap, they're leaving without us!" I cried. "Come on!" I grabbed Ema's hand and, guided by my cell phone, we both started running back to the rest stop. I was really quite impressed by our speed, or maybe we just hadn't gone as far as I thought. Either way, in a matter of seconds we were back in the parking lot, watching the RV pull out onto the highway, the septic hose trailing along the road. "They didn't even have the courtesy to turn off the hose," I said, noticing the waste strewn all about the parking lot. Our waste. Food we had previously eaten. All over the parking lot. Am I stressing this enough?

"Oh my god! Ew!" cried Ema, plugging her nose. I followed suit.

"Well this is just great," I said. "They wouldn't have possibly left without us, would they? Not like that?"

"No, definitely not," Ema agreed.

"Something's definitely wrong."

"No kidding, Sherlock."

"Try calling them?"

"And alert a potential enemy to our presence? They may think they've gotten away clean, unsuspected."

"True. Pursue them?"

"With what? They've taken away our method of transportation."

"Call the POPO and ask for a car?"

"They'll take forever to get here!"

"The local police station?"

"We're wasting time! They're getting away!"

I paused. "Take one of these cars?"

Ema thought about it. "Well, I'm sorry for the owner, but we have no choice." She examined the selection. "Take your pick."

I looked, and as soon as I saw it, knew exactly what I wanted. "The Ferrari," I said, pointing to a sleek red Ferrari parked nearby.

"Tsk-tsk," said Ema. "Everybody knows not to park your Ferrari where the police might take it." She grinned almost devilishly. “Far from under the radar, but this is me not giving a crap.”

We approached the car and knocked on the driver's window. A man dressed in a business suit was sleeping in the driver's seat.

"Police," I said, holding my badge to the window. The man, who appeared to be very scared, opened up the door and stepped out. Before he could say anything, I said, "We need to take this car to pursue a dangerous criminal. I promise we will make this up to you later." And the man, completely speechless, could only watch as I stepped into the driver's seat and turned on the car, the keys having been left in the ignition. "Let's go Ema!" I said as she got into the passenger seat. As soon as she slammed the door, I slammed the gas with the car in reverse and we screeched backwards. I then stopped, pushed the gear into drive, turned to Ema and said, "Ready?"

She grinned and said, "You bet." God, she was awesome.

And with that, I slammed on the gas again and we flew out of the rest stop.

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Meanwhile, in Italy…

I hate long distance flights. The jets are as big as your mama in all of those jokes, and as such they're nosier than Aerosmith, Bad Company, Black Sabbath, Metallica, and Jeff Beck combined. What's it all mean? Well, I can't fall asleep, and flying from Portland to LA, then from LA all the way out to Rome, then from Rome to Venice really wears you out. I was really looking forward to the hotel later, but because it was the daylight hours in Italy despite flying out late at night in America, I needed to start my interrogations now. They'd better have good coffee in Italy.

I was in one of the famed Venetian boats with two Venetian police officers. I must admit, the city was quite a spectacle. I'm not one to think highly of such things, because honestly, I usually could care less. I must've been tired. Shrugging off the urge to sleep, I employed my knowledge from that wonderful program which they advertise terribly on TV called Rosetta Stone to speak to them in perfect Italian.

"Puoi portarmi a cui i genitori di Sam scomparso?" I asked.

"Assolutamente," responded one of the officers, a good-looking man in his twenties.

Oh wait, don't read Italian? Pity…

"Can you take me to where Sam's parents disappeared?" I asked.

"Absolutely," responded one of the officers, a good-looking man in his twenties.

"Thank you," I said in Italian. I then went back to admiring the city. So clean. Unlike Portland, or at least the part of Portland where I lived my whole life. The place is disgusting and completely run by gangs. They killed my older brother, you know. Tried to mug him, but brave as he was, he resisted. Bang, bang, bang! Three times they shot him, all through the head. That's proof that bravery is stupid, folks. You want to be brave and look good, join a TV show. Anyway, the bas…wait, Sam will not be pleased with the language…the rascals got away with it too. Not enough evidence, they said. It's the reason I wanted to join the police in the first place. I want to take down those gangs. A sort of revenge, if you will. Only, legal revenge.

"Here," said the second police officer, who was rowing. He was a short, fat man with a picture-perfect Italian mustache. He pulled into a little parking lot of a sort for boats. Only in Venice, I thought in wonder. We all stepped out and the policemen showed me the crime scene, which looked perfectly normal.

"This is where the spectators said the parents were assaulted," the handsome one began. "When the police arrived, they were already gone. We gathered what information we could from spectators. None of them could tell us what the assaulter looked like. It all happened rather fast, they told us."

"What about Dania?"

"Eh?"

"Dania, the girl."

"Oh! She was not there when we arrived. The woman Elia had taken her. She came to us later that day and said that she had seen the assault and had taken the girl with her to clean up her injuries and calm her down. She was in a bad state, Elia said. She told us that she had sent the girl home to her brother because she was in a state of shock and she felt that the girl needed to be back with her family."

I nodded. The story sounded a little fishy, though. I suspected that either the police or Elia were lying, and I was determined to find out. "Take me to the police station," I said.

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting with the Police Chief talking about what had happened, and he appeared to know as much as I did. He appeared to be somewhat elusive on several of the bizarre points of the case. For example:

"And you're sure nobody saw the assaulter?"

"Well, we couldn't really get anything out of the onlookers."

All right. Dude, you are the police, and you're not as strictly regulated as we Americans are. Of course you could get something out of them. I wasn't going to fight though, not now when I didn't know all of the facts. I was able to confirm that there was only one assaulter and that the bodies hadn't been found. That was about all, and it didn't leave me with much information, only the suspicion that the Venetian police knew more than they were telling. I ultimately concluded that I might be able to come to some conclusions if I talked to Elia, and requested that I be taken to her residence.

"Of course," said the chief. And so back I went to another boat, which would take me onward to the beginning of the harrowing parts of my journey. But that's for another chapter.

God, I just love ruining your excitement.



Chapter 7 - MIC

Dania narrates.

Ooh, yay! I finally get a chance to narrate! This is almost the best thing that's ever happened to me! Well, not really. You probably think I'm getting a little overexcited, and want to yell at me and shout, "You're doing it wrong!" and be mean to me, but fortunately I don't care too much.

So, that being said, I woke up to find the RV moving at fairly high speeds. I stretched out my arms, sat up, and looked out the window. It was still pretty dark out. Odd, I thought. Didn't Ema say that we were staying at the rest stop for the night? I decided to find out what was going on. I put on a pair of pink, American Eagle slippers that I got two years ago. They are the most comfortable slippers ever! I wear them all the time. To school? Best thing to wear. Going swimming? Not a problem, they'll dry. Skiing? Pssht, I fall every time I stand up on those things anyway, so it really doesn't matter if I wear my slippers. But that's a tangent. You know, a tangent squared equals…nevermind.

So I got on those slippers and then walked up to the front. The living area of the RV is separated from the driving area by a door, which I proceeded to try to open. I failed. But perseverance, Dania! I said this to myself as I concluded that the door must be locked on the other side. I proceeded to knock. "Sam, Ema? You there?" There was no response. I banged louder. "Sam, Ema! Open up!" Still no response, though I swear I heard a quiet, morbid chuckle. All right, time for some girl kick-butt action! I immediately proceeded to try to kick the door down with my American Eagle slippers on, and, well, instead of breaking the door down, I felt like I had broken all of my toes. This in turn woke up Buffy and Kim.

"Dania!" cried Buffy. "What are you doing? We're trying to sleep here!"

"We're moving, Buffy!" I said. "We're not supposed to be moving till morning! And I can't get to the front, and Sam and Ema aren't responding!"

"Oh, I guess you're justified then," replied Buffy, who was rubbing her eyes. "Now then," she continued, putting on her prosthetic. "Let's see what's going on." She then hobbled over to the door, followed by Kim. "Hey, Sam, Ema, open up!" she said while knocking on the door. No response.

"Maybe we've slept for several decades and Sam and Ema have grown old and deaf," Kim suggested. "Like Rip van Winkle?"

"Quite possibly," said Buffy, "though I'm inclined to think not. Didja try kicking the door down?"

"That's what woke you up," said Dania.

"Oh," said Buffy, pulling out a semi-automatic handgun. "Sam and Ema, I don't care if you're making out in there. You got three seconds to open this door, or else I'll shoot it down. One…" - I drew in my breath - "Two…" - Kim drew in her breath - "Two and a half…"

"Oh come on!" I said. "Two and a half is what third graders say. Just blast the door down already! They're clearly not opening it!"

"She's got a point," Kim volunteered, which I'm sure Buffy found most useful.

"All right. Better get your heads out of the way, suckers!" cried Buffy as she started riddling the door with bullet holes. I couldn't help but conclude that she would've made a way better Rambo than Stallone. Anyway, after nearly a minute of non-stop firing, the gun was empty and Buff lowered it. She then moved forward to examine the damage.

"Crud!" she cried. "The bullets aren't penetrating the door. Which means somebody has added something to the other side of it, and I'll bet everything I got that that somebody isn't Sam or Ema."

"So what's the plan?" I asked.

"Well…unfortunately, we're in a bit of a fix," said Buffy, as she sat down on her cot like thing to mull it over.

Meanwhile, all Kim could think to do was stare out the small windows and watch other cars as they passed. After about half a minute, she commented, "Ooh, nice Ferrari."

I, who was not actually here for my brains or experience, decided that I had nothing better to do than join her. "Wow! That is a nice Ferrar-" but suddenly I stopped. I leaned closer to the window. "Wait a second…is that Ema frantically waving at us?"

This prompted Buffy to come over, and together the three of us looked at the Ferrari. "Yep, that's Ema all right," Kim said.

"And I think that's Sam in the driver seat," said Buffy. She then went back to her cot and pulled out a bag, from which she removed another round of bullets, and loaded them up.

"What I want to know is how they got their hands on that beauty!" I said, still admiring the Ferrari. "That and if you've ever seen the rain." Sadly, I appeared to be the only one present who listened to Credence Clearwater Revival.

"What I want to know is if this will glass break upon being hit with the force of a bullet," Buffy said, standing back up and firing at the window. It shattered instantly, and the cold immediately descended upon us.

"Thanks for giving us a warning!" Kim yelled, trying to make herself heard over the wind rushing by us. "I'm in a T-shirt for goodness' sake!"

"Kim, if you're gonna be a police officer, you gotta toughen up a little," cried Buffy. "I mean, I'm doing this all on one leg. Be happy you've got two." Meanwhile, Ema rolled down the window of the Ferrari. "Buffy!"

"Ema! Is that thing a convertible?"

Ema turned to check. "Um, I think so."

"Open it! We're gonna try and jump in!"

"Whoa whoa," I said. "Speak for yourself."

"It's not that bad. Worse that could happen is you miss and break all of the bones in your body."

"Oh gee, thanks."

"It's either that or be stuck in here with some unidentified person going to some unidentified place," said Kim. "And, we're leaving, so you'd be alone."

"You've got a point," I said. "But there's another problem. There's no way we're fitting through this window."

"True…very true…"

-------------------------------------------------

We now cross an ocean and a few substantial land masses to check on the situation in Italy.

Elia didn't live in Venice proper. She lived in the country just outside of Venice, and as such I could not ride the boat all the way there, which I found tremendously upsetting. Nevertheless, at least I took some comfort in riding in an Italian police car to her home, which was off of a dirt road, down in a little valley situated by a creek. It was a very picturesque home; a log cabin with a very rustic feel (duh), but it was my type of home. When I'm rich and famous and all that (sales on the group's first book have been somewhat disappointing), I'm moving into something like that. I know, I know, I'm shopping for a home that I can't even afford yet, not to mention I'll be too lazy to maintain it, and I'm only fourteen, but hey, even I can have my moments.

The police kindly dropped me off at the top of a somewhat lengthy and winding driveway which was made up of tire marks through grass. Elia had, of all things, a very old Ford truck as her primary method of transportation, which I found pretty amusing. Anyway, I walked down the driveway to Elia's front door and knocked.

After a few seconds, a fairly elderly woman answered the door. "Hello?" she said in Italian.

"Are you Elia?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mic Davis," I began. "I'm from the United States, and am working on the case of Dania's parents."

"Who?"

"Dania, the girl who's parents got killed in the city."

"Oh, yes, I remember."

"I need to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"

"Yes, of course. Come in."

Now, I must compliment myself on having that conversation in perfect Italian. I should just drop English all together. It would annoy the heck out of Sam and Ema and Buffy and Kim…speaking of which, as I entered Elia's house, I wondered how they were doing.

"Sit," said Elia, offering me a chair at a wooden table. Like I said, a rustic feel. I thanked her and sat down, and she sat in the chair opposite me.

"So, you found Dania in the city. What were you in the city for?"

"I had gone to get some groceries when I stumbled upon the scene."

"What was going on? Were her parents there? The police?"

"There was a small crowd there listening to the girl scream things in English, but nobody understood that she needed help. I knew a little English though, so I took her with me here and cleaned her up a bit. Her parents were gone and the police weren't there yet."

"She was badly injured as I understand it. Why didn't you take her to a hospital? And she travelled home in the same clothes, which as I understand it were torn up and bloodied. Why didn't you supply her with new ones?"

"I asked her if she needed to go to the hospital, but she said she was all right. And, having no clothes that would fit her, I would have had to shop for them, but that would've taken some time and I wanted to get her home as soon as possible. She was very shocked, you know. She may not have been very comfortable in the home of stranger." Elia chuckled a bit. "She was very sweet though. She thanked me for her kindness. It's really so sad when things like that happen."

"Why did you take Dania with you in the first place? Shouldn't you have waited for the police?"

"She was very distraught. I felt bad leaving her alone there, surrounding by a crowd of people she didn't know." She paused, then changed the subject, "Would you like some tea? I make a very good tea."

"Thanks, I would like that," I replied. As she got up and went to her kitchen, I processed her responses. Well, I thought, her story was passable, but weak. There is something that neither the police nor Elia were telling me, and I was going to find out what it was. I went through the entire story in my head, looking for a hole, but was struggling to come up with something. Now was when I wished for Sam and Ema most.

-------------------------------------------------

Speaking of Sam and Ema…the latter narrates again.

So here we are, in this sweet Ferrari on a rescue mission, and I can't figure out which button to press to open the roof! "Hang on Buffy," I called, as I hit a button. Suddenly, the Ferrari slowed down substantially and the RV zoomed ahead.

"What do you think you're doing, Ema?" Sam cried in a voice of absolute shock.

"I was trying to open the roof!"

"Wow, Ema, that's just a fail. You switched me into manual and let the RV get away. Great. The button's right here, you id…" but at that moment, Sam looked me in the eyes, and then sort of fell silent. After five seconds, I think he realized what he was doing, turned that Embarrassment Red color again, then switched back to automatic and opened the roof. "All right, let's catch those _______." The word that goes in the blank starts with a "b" and ends with "ards". You can figure out the rest. And with that, we zoomed forward, passing cars left and right pushing 125 miles per hour. Gotta love the Ferrari. Soon, the RV was back in sight. Somehow, Buffy, Kim, and Dania had managed to take off a substantial part of the side of the RV so they could now actually jump out.

"We're coming guys!" I shouted, just as a shower of bullets pelted the side of the Ferrari. "Whoa!" I cried, ducking my head.

"The ba - erm, I mean - rascal!" said Sam. "The driver's firing at us."

"No really?" I replied sarcastically.

"Whatever. Get down under the glove compartment."

"You crazy?" I cried. "I'm not going to just sit here and do nothing and watch your head get blown off. We're a team, remember?"

"Fine. Try and take a few shots at the driver. Just to cover me. Don't go for the kill till Buffy, Kim, and Dania are safely in the Ferrari."

"All right," I said, ducking under the side of the door and only holding the top of my head, my hands, and my gun on top of it so I could see the driver, hold the gun, and shoot it. I took a few shots, and successfully hit the door mirror. "Ha ha!" I cried. "Now he can't see behind him."

"Nice shooting, deductress," Sam said as he pulled alongside the RV. I blushed, but fortunately was not looking at him.

At this point, we were close enough for Buffy, Kim, and Dania to jump. I quickly waved a hand beckoning them to jump. "Geronimo!" cried Buffy as she landed in the back of the Ferrari, narrowly avoiding being hit by a handful of bullets, one of which proceeded to shatter the windshield of a car behind us and send it spinning off the side of the highway. Next came Kim. For a newbie, she did quite well, jumping with ease and also avoiding bullets, and sticking out her tongue at our enemy. It was a nice touch; too bad he couldn't see it.

And then there was Dania. She stood there, teetering on the edge of the hole in the side of the RV, but couldn't jump. "Come on Dania!" I cried. At that moment, a few bullets hit the windshield of the Ferrari, shattering the glass which then proceeded to fall all over the dashboard, off of the front of the car, and, in the case of two shards, into Sam's right hand. He swore, then yelled, "Somebody take over the wheel!"

"I can't drive," said Kim.

"I can't drive in this thing with the prosthetic," said Buffy.

That only left me. "Quick," I said, "take my gun." We then proceeded to very awkwardly climb over each other to switch seats. Buffy couldn't hold in her laughter, even in this situation. We both turned fairly red as we repositioned ourselves; Sam shooting and removing the glass shards, me driving.

Sam fired a few more shots at the driver of the RV before saying, "Dania, don't worry. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." She gave him a fearful look, then at long last jumped, losing her slippers in the process. Bullets whizzed by all around her, but once again, we got lucky, and she landed in the back seat (oh, probably ought to mention that this is a four-seater) with no harm done.

Well, almost no harm.

"Oh crud! I lost my slippers! I practically grew up with those things!"

Sam looked at his sister incredulously. "You could've died just now, and the only thing you can think of is your slippers?"

"It's a girl thing, Sam," I said, not taking my eyes off the road. Buffy and Kim nodded in agreement.

"Girls," was all Sam said before taking another shot at the driver of the RV, who appeared to be dressed like a ninja. It nearly hit him, too. But then the ninja fired a shot at us and nearly took my head off.

"Sam!" I said, panicking. The car swerved into two other lanes and brushed the side of the RV once or twice before steadying. I breathed deeply. "That was too close!"

"Well," Sam said. "I can't get him at this angle, and if we move further up he'll have a better shot at us." Buffy and Kim, meanwhile, were now taking a few shots at the ninja themselves. One of Kim's shots went through the open door window and shattered the RV's windshield from the inside.

"Nice shot girl!" said Buffy proudly.

"Thanks," Kim said, blushing slightly.

"Hang on," said Sam. "I've got an idea. As soon as I give the word, get as far away from the RV as you can."

"Why?" I asked, not so sure about this idea.

"Just trust me." He then leaned over the door and fired at the two wheels in range. Both were direct hits, and the tires instantly began to shred. "Go go go!" he cried as I swerved to the lane furthest to the left, the RV being in the far right lane. The ninja took a few parting shots at us, but it was too late. The tires shredded completely and the RV spun out, careening over a rail and down into a ravine.

"Holy crap," said Dania. "That was impressive."

"Pull over," Sam told me. "Let's see what state our ninja is in." I shifted back to the far right lane and then braked to a complete stop. We all immediately exited the Ferrari, which, I have to say, was pretty beat up. There were bullet holes down the entire right side and hood of the car and the windshield was shattered. I momentarily felt bad for the owner.

That was before I saw the RV.

It was wedged in between the two slopes of ravine about a foot above a little stream. The sides were completely wrecked, and the front had taken some serious damage too. "Let's go down and take a closer look," I said, as Kim and Sam followed behind me, completely awestruck. Buffy's prosthetic leg wouldn't have taken too kindly to the ravine, and Dania was shoeless, so neither came with us. The ravine was steep, rocky, and slippery, so we had to go slow, but after about three or four minutes we reached the RV. I've never seen anything as totaled as that RV was. Man, it was a wreck. I can't even describe it. Just imagine the most completely totaled RV you can think of, and that's probably about what this looked like.

Kim walked past me and went to the driver's door. She tried to open it, but accidentally took the whole door off. Yeah, that's how bad it was. There, slumped in the driver's seat, was our ninja. Kim checked his pulse and breathing, then pronounced him dead. She then removed the mask.

"Hmm, this guy mean anything to you?" she asked as Sam and I reached her.

"Oh…my…God…" I said.

There, sitting in the driver's seat, was Rick Stevens, dead as a stone.

-------------------------------------------------

Tea time in Italy

I continued to ponder Elia's story for a few minutes while she made the tea. They're both not telling me something, which means they are both working together in someway, but for what purpose? As I was piecing together the puzzle, I heard Elia's footsteps approaching. I turned around in my seat to face her, but she wasn't holding tea.

She was holding a gun.

Oh dang.

Elia then began, in perfect English, "You will come with me. Resist, and I will kill you."

"So you're not Italian, are you?" I said, partially testing her, partially trying to kill time, partially trying to get some good info. She didn't respond, so I continued, "So that increases the odds you're in the same league as Rick Stevens."

"Enough!" she said. "Go out the door, now!"

Hmm…tough choice. Should I stay or should I go? Great song by The Clash…you should listen to it if you ever get a chance. Anyway, I figured that my fate would probably be the same anyway, so being the slightly arrogant and bold person that I am, I ultimately decided to stay.

"I'm sorry, Elia, but I haven't finished questioning you yet."

"This conversation is over! Outside, now!"

"You're just gonna have to make me shut up then. Come on, pull the trigger!"

I watched her facial expression with one eye and her finger on the trigger with the other, waiting for the right moment…when suddenly I grabbed the wooden chair and held it in front of me as a shield, and fortunately I timed it right. She fired and hit the chair, saving me. I then dived out of her range and quickly pulled out my gun. The only problem was, I really didn't know if I could shoot a woman. Hard to believe I'm actually somewhat considerate, I know, but I am on occasion. This was one of them. I just stood around a corner, waiting for her to make the next move. Gradually I heard footsteps approaching. I realized I only had one shot. The footsteps, which were rather infrequent, slowly got louder and louder. Just as she turned the corner, I slammed her head with my gun, hopefully only knocking her out. But I wasn't going to stick around to find out. I instantly turned and ran out of the house as fast as my legs could carry me.

I started up the hill back to the dirt road, when I noticed that there were five police officers standing at the top, guns pointed at me. "It's all right!" I called. "It's only me!"

"You will come with us now," said one of the police officers in English.

I stopped dead in my tracks. That sounded eerily like what Elia had said, which meant that her and the Venetian police were working for the same people and probably had been involved with everything that's happened in Italy from the get-go.

More importantly, it meant that I had to run, since trying to take on five armed men with one gun would be suicide.

I immediately turned around and dashed back down the hill towards the creek. I had no idea where I was going, but I figured that the creek must lead somewhere, so I ran towards it. Bullets were missing me left and right. I couldn't believe my luck. I was actually outrunning bullets.

That's when one got me in the back of the foot.

I flipped forward and slammed to the ground. God dangit! I could feel the blood gushing out of the wound. It hurt like heck. The bullet was probably lodged on a nerve or something, because I was screaming in agony. I couldn't stand up, let alone walk. Desperate, I did the only thing I could think of left to do. I reached for my cell phone…

[MICrophone]

Chapter 8 - MOY

Ema narrates for the umpteenth time.

I sighed as I headed up the ravine to Buffy and Dania. Sam followed, then Kim.

“So…” Buffy said, waiting for information.

Sam and I looked at each other, Kim being unaware of the person. He looked at me. I looked at him. Then, in perfect unison, we blurted out, “It’s Rick Stevens.”

Buffy fell down in surprise. “This just keeps getting worse and worse. First Brock, then Rick. Who’s next?”

“You,” I looked at her with seriousness in my eyes. I held her surprised gaze for a half-minute, and then started cracking up. “Holy crap, you’re so gullible.”

Buffy rolled her eyes while Sam nearly burst a gut beside me. The rest exuded awkward chuckles. But, hey, Sam laughed and sometimes I think that’s all worth it.

“But I am surprised,” Buffy told us, “that Rick survived the fall. Not only that, but uninjured. How did he do it?”

Sam threw his hands up in the air. “Well, we don't know that he was uninjured. He may have been treated and stuff. But either way, we can’t ask him, can we?”

I shrugged. “Ah, well, crap happens. Never stopped us before.”

He nodded. “So, we head home now, after this heckuva adventure. Our mastermind seems to be dead.”

I grabbed his arm. “Not even close. According to Dania, Rob is alive. We never saw his body. Not to mention Nico was telling the truth, so Rob could have faked his own death.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “We would be doing that best from Portland.”

I looked at him, trying to keep the Embarrassment Red from showing up; after all, there were people here. “Sam, I want to go see my parents. I need to see my parents. I’m so close.”

He looked at me and told me “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

I nodded. “I do. It’s about time.”

Sam nodded and grabbed my hand.

Buffy shouted down to us. “Hey, Romeo and Juliet! We got another car!” This was good, because the Ferrari was suddenly worthless with the bullet holes and the wreckage, and… you know. A young woman popped out of a Lincoln SUV. No Ferrari, but, hey, Lincoln Navigators are always good.

I walked forward until I got a view of the woman, who seemed about 35, and when I recognized her, I squealed in delight.

“Nessi!” I giggled as I ran up to her in a big hug.

“Emmy!” she replied in equal happiness as she accepted my hug.
Sam came behind me and looked at the woman. “Well, judging by the way you two look so much alike, I would presume this is your sister.”

Nessi nodded. “Vanessa Felkis, nice to meet you.”

Sam shook her hand. “Sam Eastman. Always nice to meet a Felkis.”

Five minutes later, we were all situated in the car’s backseats. Sam and I sat together, as usual, the girls filling in the last seat. It was weird, not being in the front seat of a car.

Vanessa. Best sister you could ask for, but a very odd relationship. She’s 15 years older than me, and spent most of my memory living away from me. She was a chef, owning a restaurant in Lander, and visited often until you-know-what happened.

Twenty minutes later, she sat at the wheel, dazed at what she had heard. “Wow. This all happened over one case?”

I nodded, but then realized that she couldn’t see it. “Yes,” I replied.

“And you never gave up?”

“Not at all, ma’am.” Sam told her. “If anything, it motivated us further.”

She laughed anxiously and told us all, “I don’t know if you’re all crazy or just plain amazing. Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you succeed.”

I smiled. “Aw, thanks, sis.”

She nodded and said “Well, we have about four or five hours until we reach Lander. Y’all should catch up on sleep.”

Sam yawned and said “That sounds good. This has been the longest day of my life. About twenty-four hours ago, we were drinking in Niklaw’s Tavern, when all of a sudden hell broke loose.”

I followed with a far more colossal yawn. “Dang, that was twenty-four hours ago? Wow, in this time, I have been knocked off a bridge, punched in the face, fallen onto a boat, rode in a car that leapt an overpass, started a food fight and had the most wonderful and emotionally cleansing night of my life, not to mention chased down an RV, all with a span of nearly 1,000 miles.”

Sam put an arm around me with a seeming nonchalantness (a made-up term) but I knew he was trying to be smooth. I winked at him but let him be. He blushed and whispered “I never meant to hurt you, and I never want to hurt you again.”

I sighed happily and said “You’re just going to be spouting off like that?”

“Yeah, remember, I’ve had a year for this all to build up.”

I smiled, feeling extremely special, and closed my eyes. It was going to be tough, facing my parents, but with the support and, yes, even love of those around me, I was going to get through it.

-------------------------------------------------

Waking in the morning feeling like P-Diddy… sorry, I hate that song; it just gets engrained in my head. Anyway, I wake up in the morning in an SUV seat, Sam on my shoulder. It wasn’t light morning, more like, “It’s 3AM, I must be lonely.” But I’m not. My friends, my family and Sam are around me. And I knew it was time.

I got up, opened the door with everyone else still asleep, and started to walk the fields of our farm, long abandoned and torn-up. This place had become a nightmare, a cancer I had to escape. I still had a key to the front door, and I walked right to my Dad’s bedroom. I cracked the door open and turned on the light.

Dad jumped up, and reached for his gun. I put him through a larger shock as I said, “Dad, it’s me. We need to talk.”
Dad muttered a surprised obscenity.

“Listen, dad. I know it’s been nearly ten years, but I’ve kept this in for that long. I’ve been away from home for two years, and it’s been a lot less lonely than living in my own home. What you did that day was wrong, Dad, but it’s not that you got into a drunken rampage; it’s that we’ve allowed it to get into something that divides our family. I’ve done it, you’ve done it, and Mom’s done it. Heck, even Vanessa has done it, whether or not she meant to. I’m sick and tired of three different individuals living under this roof. I want my family back. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” At the end, I felt tears spring to my eyes, but, no, I had to be strong.

Dad just looked at me, stunned, for an entire minute. This was it. Either this would be the last time I ever spoke to him, or maybe, just maybe this would work. Finally, he got out of bed and walked over to me. He was quite intimidating physically, and I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. As he reached me, he put his hand on my shoulders. “Ema,” he said. “My Ema. You’ve grown up.” Then he started crying, and that’s when I could no longer hold it in.

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Narration of Austin Chau

“Batter up!” was heard throughout the entire stadium. Not some minor-league namby-pamby lame old kindergarten game, mind you. I was a New York Yankee, and those neighborly Mets were going down. Neighborly as in the neighbors you want to kill.

I stepped up to the plate, spit on my bat, and resisted the urge to spit on the umpire. What a tool. The guy tried to punch me in the face over taking his drink during halftime. Guy doesn’t know how to handle a mistake. Anyways, I looked at the pitcher, nodded and gave a thumbs-up as a gesture of good luck and got ready for the swing. The ball flew through the air towards me. Time to kick out my rookie status.

The connection was made, and the ball landed in the crowd. Hopefully I would get to autograph that later. I walked around the bases, high-fiving the basemen that were friendly enough and making feeble attempts with the ones who weren’t. Not to mention waving to my fans. That ball was not going to be fetched until game’s end.

Finally, I reached home. The umpire was waiting, and he punched me in the face, knocking me to the ground.
I gotta say, what an idiot to do that during the game instead of in between innings, when people are focused on the commercials and game music and whatnot. I’m a nice guy, so I didn’t fight back. I just got up and sat on the bench while the Mets’ coach started chewing the umpire out. GOOD.

Our coach, Ben Stanley, came over to me. Good man, like a father figure, of sorts. “Man, Austin, you okay? That ump can pack a punch!”

I nodded. “Just a bit woozy.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you leave the stadium for a couple of minutes? Get some fresh air. It’ll clear your head.”

I nodded. “Thanks, coach,” I said as I headed outside the stadium amid confused fans.

Outside the stadium, I got out my iPhone. Yeah, I'm a regular techno nut. Around this time when I had breaks, I would post on Facebook, or that old website - what was it again? - oh yeah, Runouw.com. It had great people there, and I used to live in Portland, too. Then I became a Yankee. Moving day.

I went to Facebook. “Don’t worry, I’m alright,” I typed in. I would have posted it, but then the unthinkable happened.

Yankee Stadium blew up, and then collapsed upon itself.

Instantly I knew I was the only survivor.

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Narration of Suki Lee

“It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you now… said I wouldn’t…." Lady Antebellum was coming out of the radio until Nicolas angrily changed the station again. “For the bloody grace of God, Alex! How many times do I gotta tell you not to keep changing the bloody station? This country music is nothing but dog crap in its purest form!”

Alex, not even looking up, kept sweeping the torn-up tavern while I washed the tables. “Y’all ain’t got such great music taste yourself," he said. "Who the heck could hate Lady Antebellum? That song’s a classic and a heck of a lot better than your frigging scream-o. That just gives me a headache.”

“Everything that you say to me GETS ME ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE, AND I’M ABOUT TO…." Alas, we never heard what Linkin Park was about to, because Alex changed it again.

Nicolas slammed the bag of garbage on the ground. “Man, I cannot believe that Sam and Ema, not to mention all the little people that help them along the way, just up and left us with a mess like this! This place looks like a…a Grocery Store Tornado hit it.”

“A grocery store tornado?” I asked, snickering. “You’re serious?”

“I was gonna say a feeding frenzy, but that sounded even more ridiculous,” was his reply.

I giggled and set my washcloth down. Confused, Nico shrugged until I started walking toward him and then abruptly kissed him. Nothing new, but never gets old.

“Fabulous, Suki. You’re amazingly fabulous.” He told me breathlessly.

“Oh my gravy, get a room or start cleaning.” Alex griped.

I rolled my eyes and started washing again. “That reminds me…” Nicolas said thoughtfully as he went to change the radio station. Personally, I was sick of the war, so I made a threat.

“You two either turn the radio off, or I will personally turn it to Z100. You will be forced to listen to Ke$ha’s god-awful song over and over and over. Not to mention things like Lady Gaga, Beyonce, and anyone else you guys hate.”

“You mean like that godforsaken Owl City Song?” Nicolas punched a wall in anticipation of the song he dreaded. “I have that son of a gun embedded in my head.”

I giggled, unplugged the radio and set it behind me. “You know what, let’s forget the radio. We gotta focus on cleaning.”

That caused two people to groan loudly.

I wiped another table down with my washcloth. Most of it was Sprite, courtesy of Nicolas, so he should have no reason to complain. The sun was setting in the sky, and it looked beautiful. And here we were, stuck cleaning. I’d have to change that.

“C’mon guys, you gotta go outside with me. This sunset is definitely once-in-a-lifetime,” I told Alex and Nico.

“As the man with the laptop on YouTube said, why the heck not?” was Nico’s ever-so-witty reply.

“Naw.” Alex replied. “That’s too girly. Besides, haven’t you seen this place? We’ll be here all night!”

“Whatever, workaholic,” I teased as Nico and I walked out. Ah, well, all the more romance for us.

There’s a bench situated under a cherry blossom by the street. Nico and I sat under the tree, petals falling daintily on us, as we watched the sun set into the houses across the street, all the while talking about whatever came to mind. Hey, couples are allowed to their conversational privacy.

Amid a sentence, I saw someone walk into the Tavern. He looked familiar, too. As If I had seen him before. Once. “Hey, dude, the tavern is -" I called, but he just walked in, ignoring my every word. Ah, well, workaholic man can take care of it.

I turned back to Nicolas and started talking again when gunshots went off.

I shrieked as the figure, with a hood on now, ran out of the tavern just as we ran in. I would have liked to have chased down the bas…sorry, Sam; I mean dou…dang it! This is hard! Anyways, I ran into the tavern, and saw Alex, surrounded by a large pool of blood, unquestionably dead.

I screamed so loud I nearly passed out.

Nicolas looked at me, horrified. “That shooter, I knew him. He was Superyoshi.”

-------------------------------------------------

Narration of Sam Eastman

I was waiting for Ema outside in the field of weeds. Not quite the same as the sunflower field, but goo enough.

“You’re a brave woman, Ema,” I said as he grabbed my arm.

She smiled weakly. “You really think so?”

“I wish I could have told my folks that I wanted to see them more, that I only left because it was best for them. Sure, I never would have changed anything, but it was one of the hardest things I’ve done, and I wish I could have kept in touch with them,” I explained.

She looked up at me. “Thank you.” She said as she inched closer to me. Nothing was going to stop me but divine intervention this time.

“You’re welcome,” I told her. Then I whispered, “Let’s hope no one starts driving away.”

She giggled, and for the first time in nearly a year, our lips touched and connected. Complete bliss. Those are the only two words that can describe it. This time, we managed to last about five seconds before -

“Hello!” Kim waved her arms in the air as she ran towards us. “Will you two snap out of it? This isn’t a syndicated episode of I Love Lucy, this is serious! More like…a, uhm, syndicated episode of CSI!”

We broke apart, a bit embarrassed, but not caring all that much anymore. "What's the big deal?" Ema asked, almost laughing a bit.

“Yankee Stadium just got blown up!” Kim told us, shocked.

“Say what now?” was my reply.

“Yeah, Yankee Stadium! Only one freaking survivor!” She kicked some of the weeds. “Man, I am so sick of things blowing up in my face!”

"Er…we're on the other side of the country, Kim," I said, the response to which was a simple rolling of the eyes.

Ema looked at me. “You think there could be a connection?”

I groaned. “Rick’s group, they were plotting something like this. Blowing up entire small towns, Mt. Rushmore, the Gateway Arch, and what could have more people per inch than a stadium? Especially the world’s most famous one.”

“Who would have killed themselves doing that?” Ema asked me.

“Any one of them. They were a suicide group, remember?” I replied.

“Well, we gotta get to New York!” Ema replied.

“But the thing is, Em,” I told her, not really noticing Kim anymore. “We have no way to get there. The Ferrari's sort of totaled. Any ideas?”

“My dad’s a pilot.” She told me. “He was, that is…that was the job he loved so much. He still has a plane; he can get us to New York easily.”

“Yeah, good idea. Anyway, I'll get Buffy and Dania and then we'll hit the road.” I said as Ema let me go.

Man, we really gotta stop doing that when everyone is around.

I did tell her this. "Hey, Ema."

"What is it, Sammy?"

"You're getting your drawl back."

She blushed. "Am I?" she replied, testing it out. "I am! Wow, and I've barely been home!"

-------------------------------------------------

Sam still narrates.

“Yeah I'm out that Brooklyn. Now I'm down in Tribeca. Right next to DeNiro but I'll be hood forever. I'm the new Sinatra and since I made it here I can make it anywhere yeah they love me everywhere-“

I changed the station in our rent-a-car, seriously missing the Ferrari. God, I hate rap, especially Jay-Z. It didn’t take me long to realize that New York has crap for radio stations. And Empire State of Mind was on most of them. Ever since he made the song, New York must be kissing his feet, when we all know that Stephen Colbert does it much, much better. Ema's Dad had flown us into a small airport an hour or so north of the city, at which point we piled into a rent-a-car and headed down to the city. And here we were.

Anyway, I drove down Jerome Street to 161st avenue at where Yankee Stadium Should Have been, but wasn’t. It was just a pile of Debris.

One person in a baseball uniform stood alone, just staring at where the stadium had once been, seemingly shocked by the disaster. He looked as if he was in space, and it was, to tell the truth, kind of creepy. We pulled our car alongside us and greeted him. He just looked at us, and then in a near monotone, asked us “Who are you?”

“We are here to help you. And you?” said Ema.

“I am the survivor. My name is Austin Chau.”

“Okay, Chau, do you know who did this?” asked Buffy.

He crumpled to the ground and started to sob. “I don’t know what happened…I was out there…Ben was in there…boom… everyone died…Ben is dead…” and anything else he was gonna say was muffled by violent sobs.

I knelt down. “He’s in shock. He can’t help us. We need to get him to a hospital.”

-------------------------------------------------

Narration of Dania Eastman

Sam’s not a firm believer of driving and using the phone, so he gave it to me to hold on to. While he was talking to the bawling guy in the uniform, he got a call.

I answered it when I saw that it was Mic. Nice kid, really funny and really sensitive. “Hello, you have a direct call from ‘The Eastmans.’ Will you accept the charges?”

“Oh, hi Dania.” He replied. He didn't sound good at all. “Is Sam there?”

“He is, but he’s coping with a bawling baseball player, so can he take a message?”

“Um, okay, quick. I just got shot in the foot and there are people after me…the police…and Elia, and I’m in real trouble, send help.”

“Mic,” I said worriedly, but he hung up.

Sam turned to me. “Who was that?”

“It was Mic.” I told him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry,” I lied. “He was just calling to tell us that things are going pretty well. He’ll brief us when he gets to a hotel.”

He nodded. “Thanks for taking the call, Dania.”

I shrugged, feeling the guilt already.

-------------------------------------------------

Narration goes back to Sam

Kim looked at Austin. “Wow, I feel bad for the guy.” She sighed. “I wish I could help.”

“Well, you’re charming enough. Why don’t you try talking to him?” Ema asked.

“Because I have a boyfriend.” She told me angrily.

“Really?” Buffy asked, raising her eyebrows. “If Nico were single, we all know-“

“Oh, shut up about it, Buffy. You know I was kidding. I’ll talk to him. Just leave me alone for a little while.”

I shrugged and walked over to a neighboring Starbucks across the street. Ema, Buffy, and Dania followed.

I ordered myself some strong coffee and Ema one of her fruity little lemonades. Buffy treated herself to something with a lot of whipped cream and Dania - wait, what relevance has this to the story?

Okay, back on track. I know you people are dying to know our coffee habits, but still…

“So, Dania, anything else Mic wanted to tell us?” I asked Dania innocently. Surely our Mic would not call us without a joke or story to accompany it.

She squirmed in her seat. “Um…nothing.”

I couldn’t quite believe her. “You sure you’re telling me the truth? Because if you like Mic, I don’t have a problem with that anymore.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…wait a minute, you said ‘anymore.’”

Now I squirmed in my seat. Before I could continue, I heard gunshots outside. "Oh crap!" I cried as I ran out as fast as I could. Everyone except Dania followed.

A shocking sight lay in front of us.

Kim was on the ground, covered in blood with a gunshot wound to the chest.

“No!” Buffy screamed. “No no no no no no no no!”

I checked for a heartbeat. “She’s alive, but barely. Austin, who did this?”

Austin pointed to a running fat man, and immediately I knew who. But before I could get my gun out, Buffy was running after him, prosthetic and all.

I started to cry, but tried to keep it hidden. “Ema! Call an ambulance! Now!”

Then another gunshot was fired. I looked over, fearing for Buffy’s life, when I saw Brock Lee lying on the ground, dead as well. Buffy kicked him and started calling his corpse all sorts of names.

Ten minutes later, an ambulance arrived, carrying Kim into it on a stretcher. Buffy climbed into the back with her. “You go!” I told her. “We’ll catch up when the police got there.”

Buffy nodded as the ambulance carried her off.

I walked up to Ema, who was also struggling to hold in tears. I put my arms around her neck and said “Ema….” That was all that we were able to get out before we burst into tears, crying in each other’s arms. How many were going to die before we solved this case?

Suddenly, Ema’s voicemail alert came up. She let go of me, cleared her throat and got her phone out.

Surprise came into her eyes. “It’s, um, you.”

I looked for my phone. I didn’t have it. “Oh my God, answer it.”

Ema pressed a button and the following life-changing message played.

“Ema, it’s me, Dania. Hopefully you don’t know where I am right now. I am flying out to Mic. I was lying when I said things were going well. He’s in trouble, and I’m going to Italy to help him because…” she paused a little as we took this in “just because. Just trust me, guys. I can do this. I love you, Sam. Dania."

I stared at the phone for thirty seconds, unbelieving, before at long last saying, "The rascal! She took my phone!"



Chapter 9 - MIC

Ema narrates…she seriously ought to be checked out for some psychological disease in which she always must…never mind…


"Call Buffy," Sam said. "See what's going on with Kim. We need to get to Italy as soon as possible, and I'd like her to come if Kim's stable."

I nodded, hit a few buttons on my cell phone, and then held it up to my ear. "Hi, Buffy? How's Kim?"

"She's in bad shape, but she's stable."

"You guys at the hospital yet?"

"Yeah. They've already removed the bullet and done a whole bunch of other medical stuff on her, and she's appears a little better."

"Is she talking?"

"No, still unconscious, but they say she'll come around in a little while."

"All right," I said, taking a deep breath. "Listen. Mic is in serious trouble in Italy, and out of sheer stupidity, Dania took off after him, only informing me via voicemail right now. We don't know what trouble, we don't know anything. All we know is that we need to get to Italy now. Can you come?"

I heard Buffy sigh. "I feel bad leaving her, but I guess if she's stable, I ought to go with you guys. Meet you at JFK in thirty minutes." And with that, she hung up.

"Well?" asked Sam.

"She's coming. Let's get to JFK."

Ten minutes later, we were in a cab on the way to John F. Kennedy International Airport. I had already called the airport to make arrangements, and we were set to take off in one hour. We sat in the back of the taxi. Sam was just staring out one of the windows, worry written all over his face. I, not being able to think of anything better, volunteered, "It's going to be all right Sam."

Sam only turned further away from me. I decided that this was not the time to push it, so I just sat back in my seat in silence. Suddenly, Sam said, "Give me your phone."

"What?"

"I need your phone to call Dania."

"Oh," I said, handing him the phone. He started dialing the number. "Put it on speakerphone," I said.

"All right," he replied, as it started to ring. As soon as the screen said the word "connected," Sam instantly started screaming into the phone, "Dania, what the heck did you think you were doing, running off like that? You could get yourself killed! We've already lost enough lives on this case; we don't need one more. Where are you anyway?"

But instead of getting a response, Dania simply hung up. "Dang it! You stubborn little devil!"

"Want to try Mic?" I suggested.

"Good idea," Sam agreed as he started to dial Mic. It rang a couple times, before Mic picked up. "Hello?" said Sam.

"Sam! Do not come to Italy! Don't worry about me, just don't come to Italy! No matter what he says, don't -" but at that moment, Mic was interrupted by a gunshot.

"Oh my God," I said, but then another voice came on.

"Hello Sam and Ema," he said. It was a deep and morbid voice. "Thanks for calling," he continued, before bursting into sinister laughter. Definitely like the Joker.

"Who are you?" said Sam. "And what have you done with Mic?"

"The first question is of no importance to you. And as for Mic, I have just shot him in the stomach."

"What!" I cried.

"You see, I had ordered him to tell you to meet him at a certain address upon your arrival in Venice in order to discuss his findings. The truth is that that address is where I am currently located, and it was meant to be a trap so we could capture you. However, because your friend was foolishly brave, he has now been shot in the stomach. If it wasn't for his little girlfriend here, I would let him die, but out of courtesy for the lady, I'll keep him alive for a little while."

"They've got Dania," muttered Sam. "The *expletive* have Dania."

"Anyway, because your friend had to be brave, I'm gonna have to do this the hard way. The two of you and Buffy will get on the plane for which you are booked, per your arrangements with John F. Kennedy Airport. As soon as you land in Venice, you will be apprehended by two men. Do not resist, or I will blow up the airport. You will then be taken to me, at which point I will tell you all you want to know. Any deviation from these instructions, and I will kill Mic, Dania, and your parents Sam." And with that, the man hung up.

"Wait," said Sam. "My parents are alive?" But the man had already hung up. Sam just slumped down in his seat in shock. "My parents are alive."

"Great," I added. "We've walked right into their trap."

-------------------------------------------------

Narration of Buffy

I wasn't very comfortable leaving Kim. So, imagine what my comfort level was when I discovered that I was leaving Kim to get on a plane to take us straight into the hands of the enemy.

Yeah, not very high.

I responded to Sam and Ema's description of the phone call with several groans, gasps, and hyper ventilations. Well, all right, I'm exaggerating a bit on the last point. I'm a police officer; I have to be able control situations like this.

Nevertheless, I wasn't in a very good mood on the flight. My stomach was churning, and not from craptacular airline food. The three of us sat together in silence, thinking about what was to come, and in Sam's case, particularly about his family, all of whom were alive, or so we were told. I was worried about Mic the most, as he was the only one this side of the ocean with a gunshot wound, as far as I was aware. Finally, as the plane initiated preparation for landing, I turned to the other two.

"So what do we do?" I asked, because we sort of needed a plan.

"Well," said Ema, "we don't really have a choice, do we? If we don't follow what that guy said on the phone to the letter, he'll kill Mic and Sam's family," she lowered her voice to a whisper here, "and potentially blow up the airport. We can't put that all on the line, and I don't think we could deviate from the instructions without him realizing. He'd realize before we'd have a chance to get there. Besides, if we don't go with the two guys who are…uh…meeting us," Ema's eyes followed the flight attendant as she walked by us; "We won't know where to find this place."

"Actually," said Sam, "that's not entirely true." He held up Ema's cell phone. "I hacked into this to find out the location of Mic's phone." On Ema's screen was a map. She snatched it away with a piercing look and told him, “Who asked you to mess with my phone?” She managed a wan smile however as she looked at the screen.

"Hey," I said. "Aren't we supposed to put cell phones away while the plane is in flight?"

"Uh…well, yes, but is that really the important thing right now?" Sam asked. "Now then, Mic's phone is at these coordinates."

"Do you think that's where we'll be taken?" I asked.

"Probably. I can't imagine he'd shoot Mic in the stomach and then move him. He'd probably die, and the guy said he was gonna keep him alive."

"Do you really trust him?" I asked incredously.

Sam looked away into the clouds. "No, but in this case, I'll hope for the best."

"All right," Ema said. "So we think we know where they are - flight attendant," Ema quickly hissed an interruption as Sam hid the cell phone. When she passed, I continued, "So as I was saying, we think we know where they are, but what advantage is it? We get to the same place if we go with the two guys meeting us, and we're guaranteed to get to the right place."

"We'll have a chance to get in with weapons and whatnot," I suggested. "A better fighting chance."

"True, but what if they realize we're missing before we can get there? We can say goodbye to Sam's family and Mic. And we might not even be going to the right place. I don't think we have any alternative. We must go with them."

Sam and I looked at each other. Ema was right; we had to submit ourselves to captivity. Just what I wanted to be doing today. Man, I could've been back at the school in Portland, safe and sound…actually, not true…given the students' maturity level; somebody might throw something at me and take my head off. But that's a tangent, which, the square of by the way…never mind, that's a real tangent.

We landed soon after, and, after standing around for ten minutes waiting for people in front of us to take down their carry-on luggage, we exited the plane. Almost immediately upon our entrance to the terminal, two guys that looked like they could each take on Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime approached us and said only, "Come with us."

And so off we went.

Big gulp.

-------------------------------------------------

Sam narrates as part of the secret plot…um, well, not-so-secret anymore…to end Ema's narrating addiction. Yeah, about as secret as the Undercover Detectives on the Amazing Race.

As soon as we exited the airport, we were blindfolded, so where we were going only Yah and our captors knew. I'm not very good at estimating time without a clock, so I can't say how long we were blindfolded. I believe we were in a car for some part of our journey. I did not say a word, and neither did Sam or Ema, for fear of repercussions. Anyway, after some time, I was thrown to the floor of…some place which I couldn't see. That is, until my blindfold was removed.

We appeared to be in what could be likened to a throne room in a palace. The rectangular room, longer in length than in width, was made almost entirely of a dark marble, with a high ceiling held up by marble pillars, and was lit by torch. Buffy, Sam, and I were at the foot of a staircase, which led up to where the king might sit, keeping the simile, or metaphor - English was never my strong subject - going. Standing there was a fairly tall young man, who couldn't have been older than Buffy. Behind him were Dania and my parents, all tied to chairs, and my parents gagged, and next to them, unmoving on the floor, was Mic, lying in a pool of blood. I immediately stood up in an attempt to get to them, but was thrown to the ground by an unseen force behind me. Turning around, I saw that the two men who had brought us here, presumably guards, were standing behind us, and four more guards were stationed near the entrance. All were armed, and our weapons appeared to have been removed. It looked pretty grim.

"Welcome," began the man at the top of the staircase. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rob Stevens."

Ema gasped. "You're Rob Stevens? Rick's brother?"

"Yes, Rick, may he rest in peace. You did a solid job on the RV, I heard, especially your newest trainee. Ah well. Life goes on. Now then - "

"Sorry to interrupt," Buffy, well, interrupted, "but aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Ah! Very good! Yes, I am supposed to be dead." Rob began to pace the room. "I faked my death, employing the use of various chemicals and whatnot to create that image. That is why Nicolas passed the lie detector. I was, by all appearances, dead. But I was very much alive. This way, I would not be suspected, and up until this point it worked, exactly as intended. I applaud you for your gullibility."

This guy had a sharp tongue. "Why have you brought us here, you son of a-?" I asked.

"You could call it revenge for all that you've done to screw my plans up, not to mention for the death of my brother. You could also call it insurance that you won't get in my way again."

"Why are you doing this, and what are you planning next?" Ema asked.

"Ah! Good question! You see, I believe that, given the bombing of Yankee Stadium, I have the leverage to make demands to the federal government using the threat of blowing up the White House as the alternative to accepting my demands. And believe you me; I will execute that threat if I do not get what I want. And why? Because I believe that there are too many problems with the United States of America and we need a quick and radical solution. Rick may or may not have explained the ideology of this during your IBM encounter. So, my demands are simple. I am, in essence, initiating a coup d’état. My followers and I will take over the American government."

"Sounds like fun," Buffy suggested.

"Yes, I am quite enjoying it," said Rob sinisterly. "Now then, before I send you away, a few things you may want to know. Elia, the Venetian police, Brock Lee, Jacob Blaine and Pete Jacob-Ellis have all been working for me. The latter, if you do not already know, killed Alex Card at Niklaw's Tavern. A pity; he was supposed to kill Nicolas and Suki, but circumstances prevented it. Blaine and Jacob-Elis are here in this room now."

From the shadows behind my parents and Mic emerged Pete Jacob-Ellis and Jacob Blaine, who walked up to Rob and stood beside him. "It is a pleasure to meet you all again," he said.

"Suyo and Blablob, as they were known on the pitiful forums I created, have been my right-hand men, and, have done a lot of the planning for me. The forums, by the way, I created solely to allow for the blackmail of the mods to carry out the bombings in Portland. The same goes for my dating the darling Suki before my supposed "death". As a result, she joined the forums, and I instantly made her a mod."

"Finally," Rob took a breath, and then continued as his face spread into a devilish grin, "my favorite part. Your sister, Sam, has known everything the whole time!"

"What?" I cried. "How?"

"Sam…" she said, bursting into sobs. "I'm sorry…I was blackmailed…they told me…they told me they'd kill Mum and Dad if I didn't keep my mouth shut and…and do what they said…"

"Yes indeed. When the police took your parents, under my orders, we also took Dania. We told her that we'd keep her parents live, but she had to do several things. For starters, she had to return to Portland as she was and tell you that your parents were dead, Sam. She secretly kept us informed about your doings, and when you were romancing at the rest stop, Sam and Ema, and Buffy and Kim were sleeping, she secretly let my brother into the RV. Finally, we had planned in advance to have her fly to Italy following the Yankee Stadium bombing, which we timed with her flight, as a lure to bring you all here. And if I do say so myself, it worked extremely well, better than I expected. For that, I owe her substantial thanks."

"Anytime," Dania replied coldly, spitting at him.

"The whole story with Elia was fabricated, and she lied about that also, all under our orders. This enabled us to lure Mic here as well as serving as a cover for the truth long enough for us to execute our plans."

I looked at Buffy and Ema. There was no doubt about it. We had played right into their plans every step of the way. We had done nothing to stop it. We weren't even aware of it.

"Now, I think that will be all," Rob said. "Take them away."

"Wait!" Ema cried. "What about Dania and Mic and Sam's parents? You have what you want. Now let them go!"

"Ha!" Rob cried. "So they could go back home and tell everybody about what we're doing? I think not! Guards!"

"Is Mic alive?" Buffy asked.

Rob stared at her coldly. "If I had wanted him dead, I would've shot him through the head."

Well, I'll tell you this much, the guy can rhyme.

-------------------------------------------------

Sadly, Ema found out about the ploy. She narrates again.

Great. We're screwed. That was what I kept thinking as we were led by "guards" to the Venetian police station. That's what they told us anyway; they had blindfolded us again so we couldn't see where we were. As it turns out, the guards were in fact members of the Venice police. When they removed my blindfold, which I'm estimating was ten minutes after our departure from Rob; I was in a grimy cell with Sam, while Buffy was in an adjacent cell. The police were locking us in.

"Um," Buffy began, "can I ask why I'm in a different cell than them?"

"In the words of the boss," said one of the policemen, "since you're all gonna be spending the rest of your lives here, he wanted the two lovebirds to be together. In case…you know." And with that, he burst into laughter as he and his companions left us. I made sure to tell him to f-off before they went, which only inspired more laughter.

"Great," said Sam. "Not only are we trapped here, but I've just been epically humiliated!"

"Tell me about it," I said.

"Hmm," said Buffy. "We're the only prisoners here. We have no windows, and it's quite dark."

I looked around. Buffy was right. This floor of cells was naturally poorly lit, and we were the only ones here.

"Furthermore, there is no way these cells meet sanitation codes," I added. "I can only conclude that these cells are secret and underground."

"Hmm…sounds about right deductress," Sam volunteered. I blushed, but now that we were out in the open, it didn't matter so much.

"So here's the question," I began. "How the heck do we get out of here?"

"Well, I don't know," Buffy volunteered cynically, "but the way it sounds, we have a lifetime to think of a way."

Thanks for the encouraging words Buffy.



Chapter 10 - MOY

Narration of *gasp* Dania Eastman

I looked on with substantial hate as Rick left the room at last. What a bas-jerk, as I am told Nicolas of the Tavern would say. Whatever the heck could provoke him to take over the world is way, way beyond me.

I looked down at Mic. Poor thing, he looked like he was near the gates of hell. And it was entirely my fault. I started crying again, out of pure guilt. And to add to my suckage meter, I accidentally woke up Mic with my bitter sobs, and as soon as he opened his eyes, I read a lot of suffering in them.

“Owwwwwww.” He groaned, to further validate my point.

I looked at him. He was really in horrible shape. “Oh hi, Dania,” He said. “I missed the show. What the heck happened?”

I internally swore at him, not exactly wanting to recap my betrayal to him and the rest, but the kid is literally dying to know. I started telling him how they were forced over here, how it was Rob, Jacob and Suyo all along, and worst of all, how I had been blackmailed. I didn’t really get past that because I started bawling my eyes out.

Mic looked up at me. “This is great! Your parents and Sam’s parents are alive! I’m alive, you’re alive, are the rest alive?”

I nodded. “For now.”

“Look,” Mic told me. “No one’s here. So why don’t you and I get out of this mess? I’ll try to untie you, you patch me up, and we leave in nothing flat?”

I tried not to smile too much, but the idea of getting out of this mess was too good to pass up. “Okay, you sure you’re strong enough?”

He nodded. “Adrenaline comes in handy, Dania. I swear to god that without it, I would have died a long time ago.”

I smiled down at him and said “Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation?”

--------------------------------------------------

Narration of Nicolas Locke

Now, you may have been asking, what were we doing in all this mess? Why, we were following the bloody killer to this place! What, you thought we were celebrating Alex’s death by sipping cocktails?

Well, maybe we should have. We heard everything from the air vent we had crawled into. And, lawdy, lawdy, lawdy, was Suki a mess in my arms, which was really awkward since we were one - trying to be hidden and two - you know how hard it is to hold someone in an air vent?

Not only did she find out that Pete Jacob-Ellis was a traitor all along, but that her deceased boyfriend was alive and was one - a villain and two - had been using her the entire time. She couldn’t stop sobbing, while desperately tried not to make a noise, which was getting harder and harder.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. Before I started wailing like a newborn Kangaroo (that is an Aussie-inspired metaphor - or is a simile? I don't remember - I just made up and I am proud to admit it), I told her, “Suki, Suki, listen. I know this is, to be frank, fricking horrible. It is, but you know what, we have to move on with what we have.”

She sighed. “I know, it’s just…evil. I…I really can’t describe it any other way, except…evil.”

I looked at her tear-stricken face and sighed again. “Well, these two seem to have it figured out. We really ought to help Sam, Ema and Buffy out of jail.”

“Well, we could always get the keys to the jail cell.”

“Yeah, let’s ask Rob for the keys and hope he gives them to you.” I responded incredously.

She lit up. “That’s it!”

--------------------------------------------------

“Suki, Suki, Suki,” I said nervously. “You sure this is going to work?”

She looked at me with those deep pools of green otherwise known as eyes and simply said, “Trust me,” as she put sunglasses over her eyes.

I nodded nervously and gulped as we walked into Rob’s office.

“Whoever it is, can it wait?” he said, looking around his shoulder. “Oh, who are you two?”

What a relief, he didn’t recognize us.

Perhaps I should elaborate. Suki and I had clocked a couple of guards and taken their clothes. Suki watered down her hair to make it seem dark and straight instead of wavy, and she had the sunglasses over her eyes to avoid Rob looking into his ex’s unmistakable eyes. I had sunglasses and a hat on to avoid him recognizing me.

“We’re part of your crew,” Suki told him in a voice deeper than usual tinted with a southern accent. “Atlanta, Georgia branch. We were sent over here to work with you by our boss. Don’t believe you’ve met. His name’s Dave Jones, but everyone calls him Bulldog.”

He nodded. “So, how are things in the Atlanta group?”

“We’re just that much closer to blowing down the Peachtree Tower.” She continued. “But we were sent over here when we heard you captured those infamous twerps from out West. Told you needed more guards. So where do we go?”

“Ugh, go to the police station down the road; help the guards out over there. I’ve got the main hall guarded.”

Suki looked at me and raised an eyebrow, but saved us by saying, “Well, you heard the man, let’s go. Right down the road, you say?”

“Yes, ma’am. You know, you look so familiar to me. Like an ex-girlfriend I had,” Rob told her.

I held in a gasp, but Suki coolly told him “Everyone says that, dear. Arrividechi!”

I followed her out the door of the office and into the street.

For a second, I swear to god I pulled a Sam and just stared at her. When I realized my error, I blurted out as we started walking, “That. Was. So. Dang. Brilliant!”

She giggled. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely, that was just so smooth, so polished, as if you had rehearsed it. Great southern accent, by the way.”

She looked at me and said “Why did he say the main hall was guarded, it clearly wasn’t?”

I held her hand. “Does it matter? We’re in! We’re gonna get them out of the cell, and then we’re gonna get the rest, and then we’re gonna kick some butt, and then get out of Italy, and get back home, dismantle the evil group, and…and…and… SHYYYYYYYYYYYYAAH!”

She giggled and put a hand on my face as we slowed to a halt. “Italy really is a beautiful place, isn’t it?”

I squirmed a little bit and said, “Do you really think this is the best time for romantics?”

She looked at me and said, “Does it really matter?”

And with that in mind, you can look away while I kiss the love of my life.

--------------------------------------------------

Narration of Sam Eastman

Man, even with Ema in the same cell as me, things were depressing. We were beat, it seemed, and we knew it. Now we were going to spend the rest of our lives in this rotting hell.

I looked at Buffy, who was asleep, and sighed. Man, if only she had stayed with Kim. She wouldn’t be trapped here, she would be back teaching and back with Gary, who seems like a real nice guy. And Mic, he was dying in the other room. His parents let him go here out of pure selflessness, and now he was going to die in vain. And my sister, my parents. They’re gonna spend the rest of their lives bound to chairs.

I looked at Ema, whose head rest on my shoulder. We had it easy; we were going to spend eternity together, albeit not in the best circumstances. I sighed and fought to hold back tears.

I didn’t succeed, to say the least. They streamed down my face, and I struggled to keep the sobs from leaping out of my mouth.

Ema looked up at me, saw my anguished face and said, “It’s gonna be okay, Sam. America will stop this. They always do.”

I sighed and said “With what, Ema? The police?”

“National Security, the Army National Guard. As much of a horrible person Rob is, we at least get to spend our hostage situation together, the three of us. And try not to worry about family; they’re alive, at least.”

“I really want to get out of here, Ema.” I said, choking up.

Suddenly, I heard a guard fall to the ground. Then the other. Then the third.

That’s when two new ones ran into the room. I had no clue who these people were until the male started speaking.

“All righty mates, we have Rob’s trust! So you guys are free to go!” he said as he unlocked the cage.

I grinned. “Ah, Nicky, you pull through again.” I said as I we fist-fived.

Ema squealed and said “This means we’re one step closer!”

“To the edge, and I’m about to - sorry, random singing for the win again.” Nico told us.

I raised an eyebrow. "For the win?"

"Uh…it's an old forum expression," he replied.

Meanwhile, Suki unlocked Buffy and asked “Are you okay?”

“Barely mentally,” she replied. “Just really missing Gary, that’s all.”

Suki giggled. “Just be glad it wasn’t us.”

“So, Nico, how’d you even get here?” I asked.

“We followed Jacob-Ellis.” He told us. “The bas-jerk took a plane over here, and we knew Mic was over here, so we thought he was in trouble. We undercover-ly followed Jacob over here, not wanting to kill him - okay, I wanted to kill him after he killed Alex, God bless his soul for sparing us, but we wanted to be led to Mic and so we didn’t kill him, yet.”

Suki interrupted. “But I saw Mic and Dania trying to escape. We didn’t see anyone watching them, but when we talked to Rob, he told us to go here to guard you, because they were guarded. Someone’s there and they’re trying to escape. They need help.”

I ran up the stairs. “Well, then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

--------------------------------------------------

Narration of Da Other Eastman

Despite his injuries, Mic was able to untie me easily. Now what to do about his shot stomach. And his foot, which I noticed was still bleeding. I took the rug that Rob had in his grand room and with a snicker on my face, grabbed it up and wrapped it around his wound. I hope that godforsaken piece of crap cost a hundred-thousand dollars. Although it was tough as heck, I was able to rip a piece off and wrap it around his foot. He shouted in agony, grabbing the chair and squirming around a little.

“Don’t fight it, Mic.” I told him gently. “I know it’s hard, but don’t fight it.”

He grabbed my arm, quite hard, too, digging his nails into my skin. It was a bit painful, but I let him, because Yah knows what kind of pain he’s in. Nevertheless, he settled down. That takes an awful amount of trust considering I’m the cause of his pain.

He looked at me and said “Thanks, Dania, you’re a lifesaver.”

I smiled a little. “It’s really the least I could do.”

At that moment, someone trotted in the room, and I could smell the trouble from a mile away. I looked up, and in all his cocky glory, Jacob Blaine, the son of a bi - um, never mind. But I really hate that guy. He messes with people's heads a lot. At first, I thought he was a friend, back in Italy after he left Portland, (I later learned that was when he was holding people like Suki captive) but I thought the same of Rob Stevens, too. To tell you the truth I was really falling for Jacob. That was before I learned about everything and the blackmail started.

He grinned at me devilishly. “Hey, gorgeous.” He told me, and I saw a gun in his hand. “What do you think you are doing?”
I looked at him, and out of sheer hate and heartbreak, spit in his face. I tried to, but I could only reach as far as his chest from the ground. Still, pretty good air.

“What godforsaken business is it of yours?” I said.

“Well, I have a gun, and you don’t,” he sneered.

“What are you doing down here?” I spouted venomously.

“Well, let’s see, baby. You’re not tied to a chair. Your parents are. You’re wrapping a rug around your new boy there. Could I resist?”

I rolled my eyes. “You call me baby one more time, and I swear to Yah-“

“You’ll what? Punch me with those pitiful fists and in turn I shall have no problem blowing your boy’s brains out right here and now and dragging you around with me,” he told me snappily as he turned his attention to “my boy”. “You’re so pitiful,” he laughed. “You think you can save the world, and we all know that you’re doomed to die in your enemy’s possession. I know it, she knows it, and you know it.”

“Don’t listen to him!” I pleaded.

“Your brother thought that he could save the world, too, you know.” He continued, as a look of terror came across Mic's face, his eyes fiery with rage. “All we wanted was his money, his wallet, maybe his phone, too. He thought he was a hero and could take us. We were, after all, coming for you next.”

Mic looked at him, horrified and enraged.

“Mic, he’s lying, don’t listen to him!” I begged. Surely he was lying. Please, Yah let him be lying.

I saw Mic get up, and I knew that my pleading was for crap. “You *expletive*! You sick, twisted, demented, low-life, murderous - "

“Keep them coming,” Jacob said, snickering like this was a game.

Mic shouted out, “You son of a *expletive*" as he lunged for Jacob, stomach wound and all, but Jacob dodged the attack.

"Oh, you want to play, eh? Well, come and get me then!" cried Jacob as he started running out of the room.

"No Mic!" I cried as he started to run after Jacob, but it was no use. Despite two partially undressed bullet wounds, the bullets still lodged in his body, nothing was gonna stop Mic from getting his revenge except death. My worry was that death was exactly what he was gonna get. But I knew that I shouldn't interfere. This was his battle and his alone. I sighed as a started untying my parents.

--------------------------------------------------

Narration of Ema Felkis, yet again. I’m starting to think that she got a cold one day and decided “what the heck, I’ll write a story about our adventures” and then everyone found out, and started pitching in and… tangent, sorry, you know a tangent squared equals…

We ran up the stairs, and approached Rob’s office. I put my ear to the wall and heard a heated argument between Pete and Rob.

Nicolas looked at us and said “Let Suki and I handle it.”

I nodded. “Good luck.”

“Semper Fide,” Sam said.

I looked at him oddly. “That’s the navy.”

“Doesn’t make it any less fun to say.” He replied as we peeked through the door.

“Oh, it’s you two.” Rob said. “Get lost; we’re talking about very important things.”

“This is far more important, darling.” Suki put on a southern accent again.

“All right, you two. What is it?”

Nicolas pulled out a gun swiftly and to their surprise, shot Pete in the chest, killing him instantly. “That was for Alex, you bas-jerk.”

Rob looked, in all respects, shocked. “You two… you’re traitors.”

Suki took off her sunglasses and said “Better than that, darling.” She then reached over to slap a surprised Rob in the face. “That was for faking your own death.” Another slap. “That was for all the rest.”

“Just a slap?” he said. “Compared to Pete, I got off rather light, wouldn’t you say?”

Nicolas put the guard’s gun to Rob’s face and told him “You will come with us now.”

They walked out of the office, and I raised my eye…never mind. “Good work, you two. Remind us to get you jobs.”

Nico shook his head and said “Nah, I’m really a lighthearted tavernista at heart.”

I’ll have to add that to the Nictionary.

We started running again, into the room that Mic, Dania, and her parents had been in earlier, the one where Rob had revealed to us his secrets. "Mic, Dania-" I began to call, but suddenly stopped dead in my tracks.

“No…” Sam said, and I could tell he was holding in more sobs.

“Why, I…” was all I could say.

Nicolas just looked at the scene, mouth agape.

[MICrophone]

Chapter 11 - MIC & MOY

MIC

Sam narrates.

OK, I don't do drugs, but I couldn't help but consider that perhaps somebody may have slipped something into my food or drink at some point recently, because there was something seriously wrong with this picture.

My parents were holding Dania at gunpoint. Correction, double gunpoint. Each had a gun.

Well, this was certainly a twist.

Not being able to think of anything better to do, I pulled out my gun (courtesy of one of the guards that Nicky and Suki pwned, as the former would say) and said, "Mom, Dad, it's all right. We can go now. We can leave this wretched place and go back to Portland."

"Drop your weapons or she dies!" my dad replied.

I looked at Ema, Buffy, Nicolas, and Suki, telepathically begging an alternative of them. Sadly, none of them have the power of telepathy.

"Do what he says," I said, and we all dropped our weapons.

"Good. Ellen, could you pick up their weapons and handcuff them sweetie?"

"Of course, darling," my mother replied. What the heck was going on here?

I decided to voice that question. "Um…Mom, Dad…what are you doing? What's going on?"

"Quite simple, honey," began my mother. "You see, Rob left something out when he was briefing you guys earlier. He and Rick are not the masterminds of this whole scheme. We are."

"What?" cried the five of us in unison.

"What's with the what?" said my father. "You all go deaf lately? I know those jail cells are crummy, but they're not that bad."

I looked at my companions, who looked back at me, shock written all over their faces. This can't be right. I must be dreaming. Wake up, Sam, wake up. But it was too real to be a dream. Everybody and everything looked perfectly real. There was no mistake about it. And no mistake meant that we were screwed. Again.

---------------------------------

Mic narrates.

I wasn't kidding when I said adrenaline could work wonders. I had two holes in my body, including one in my foot, yet I swear I could've won a track meet at the rate I was going. And I can't even run that well.

I was pursuing the son of a gun Jacob Blaine through the hallways of whatever this building was that I was in. I couldn't believe that he of all people had killed my brother. And I couldn't stop thinking that I was gonna make him pay.

Problem was, despite my record speeds, Blaine had faster record speeds. I wasn't sure why he was running. Was he a coward? Maybe. But I didn't care. I just kept running after him. I had knocked out a guard stationed outside of the room where I had left Dania and taken his gun, so I had a fighting chance. Honestly, I would've run after him even if I didn't have a gun. I'd rather have died trying than not tried at all.

I turned corner after corner, following the torches of the poorly lit hallway. I must have been underground, probably right above a sewage complex, because there was a thin layer of murky water on the ground. Gross, I know, but in case I didn't emphasize this enough, the only thing on my mind was Jacob Blaine and three bullets in my brother's head.

Finally, I reached the end of the hallway. Problem was that I could now either go left or right in a different hallway, and I had lost track of Blaine. Dang. I did not come this far only to let him get away. I dared not stick my head out into the new hallway for fear of having it shot off, so I just stood at the end of my hallway, desperately hoping for a sign of which way to go. Suddenly, I noticed that the water was rippling slightly off to the left, so without thinking twice I pulled out my gun and ran to the left. Sure enough, there was Blaine, running down the hallway. I fired my gun and he fell to the ground, the water surrounding turning red. Satisfied, I stopped running, and instead walked forward to examine the body. But as I neared, I noticed another problem.

The dead man wasn't Jacob Blaine, but merely another of Rob's guards.

As I came to this realization, I felt a searing pain in my lower back and fell on top of the body of the guard. Instantly I knew what had happened. Blaine must have sent the guard to the left knowing I would follow him while he stood to the right waiting till my back was turned. Then, he fired his gun.

I knew that I was dead. I now had three bullets in my body; one in the back of my foot and two in my stomach, one from the front and one from the back. I had let go of my gun upon the bullet's impact and it had flown ten feet away. I didn't have the strength to get it. But I wasn't going to die like this. I heard footsteps running the other way, and taking my chances, yelled, "Blaine!" The footsteps stopped.

"Come back here, you coward, and finish me off properly!" I cried.

From a distance, I heard the reply, "As you wish." He started walking back towards me. I turned my head to watch him approach. He snickered. "Like I said, you had to be the hero, just like your brother." He stopped within three feet with me, then cocked his gun. "Any last words?"

"Yes," I said, shifting my hand slightly. "Go to hell, you son of a *expletive*!" And before Blaine could respond, I grabbed the gun off the dead body of the guard and fired it at Blaine's hand, taking it right off and his gun with it. Blaine stared at his stump of a wrist for ten seconds, completely stunned, before falling to the ground in pain.

With my last bit of strength, I hobbled to my feet and walked to where Blaine had fallen. I cocked the guard's gun, and then, mimicking his voice, said, "Any last words?"

"Oh please," said Blaine, tears coming to his eyes, "don't kill me. I'll do anything! Just don't kill me!"

I gave him a cold, hard stare. "When my brother stared death in the face, he had the guts to take it like a man. He's dead. Now here you are staring death in the face, and you don't even have the guts to take it like a little girl. What does that make you?"

Blaine could only respond with a soft "please."

"Fine. I'll finish the riddle. It makes you deader." And with that, I fired four bullets into his head, one more than he had fired into my brother's head all those years ago. Finally, I thought, my life was complete. I stared at Jacob Blaine's lifeless body for a few seconds before sinking to the ground, depleted of all of my energy, probably never to stand again.

---------------------------------

MOY

Narration of Ema Felkis… hey, you in the front, no complaining!

I was in shock as we were led back to the jail cells by the guards. Sam and I in one, Nico and Suki in one, Buffy in the third. The thing was where was Dania?

Sam was banging on the bars, in a living nightmare. His sister was being held captive by her parents, who had become inexplicably evil, and he had no idea why. All he could do is shout for his sister helplessly, tears coming to both our eyes. I hated to see the guy in so much pain.

He turned around, looked me in the eyes, and asked me “What are we going to do? Getting out once, we couldn’t have done without Nico and Suki, and now pretty much everyone’s been caught. We’re going to die down here!”

I looked back at him, tears in my eyes. “But, Sam…” I stuttered. “It-it-it just can’t end like this! The good guys always win!”
Cynicism clouded those heartfelt eyes I adored. “This is the real world, Ema. Things don’t always work out that way in real life. This isn’t a fairytale.”

I shook his shoulders. “You can’t give up hope, Sam!”

“I have nothing left to put hope in,” He told me.

That hurt my heart; I think it skipped a beat or two. I resisted the urge to cry and said “Not even me?”

He looked at me and said “No, no, Ema, that’s not what I…Ema, you’ve got to…I mean…” he grew angry and started unleashing a volley of vulgarities at the guards. I just sat as far away as I could from him and sulked. Maybe things really aren’t going to turn out right. But, hey, everybody hurts…everybody cries…everybody hurts…sometimes…man, I wish I at least had a harmonica.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps, rather clumsily, down the stairs, and the guards fall down to the ground again, and when I saw who it was, I nearly passed out.

----------------------------------------

Narration of Dania Eastman

I was shocked. I thought it was the Stevens, obviously; I had no idea Mom and Dad were behind this. I loved them so much; How could they hurt me so? How could they change from the loving, caring parents that took me around the world into these villains? How could they let people like Rob and Jacob treat me so horribly and blackmail me? Why would they want to take over the world?

I sobbed my eyes out while I was carried to a nicer room, much to my parents’ annoyance. They kept telling me “There’s nothing to cry about, sweetie. You were a good girl.”

“Don’t call me sweetie, you horrible, horrible people!” I screamed as Dad set me down on a nice bed.

“But you are our sweetie,” was Mom’s response, and I was getting nauseous.

I just screamed, “Leave!” as a response.

The rolled their eyes and started walking away, door closed and locked. I should know, I tried to open it.

Finally, I flopped on my bed and started sobbing. My brother and everyone else I cared about was locked away, forever, Mic was probably bleeding to death somewhere in this world, the Venetian Police won’t help us, America is going to be taken over by my murderous parents, and I was stuck here.

I sat up and wiped my eyes. No way I was gonna sit here and watch the world go to hell. I looked around the room for a way to get out, but on first sight, I saw nothing. Then I looked a little closer at one of the wooden bedposts of my canopy bed. It had a deep cut on one end, and with a bit of coaxing, I was able to break it off of the rest of the frame. I ran off of it as the entire canopy crumbled under itself.

I then started beating on my door, breaking it piece by piece. I swung with a strength I didn’t know I had, until, finally, the door crumbled down. Guards looked surprised as they saw me with a three-foot tall bedpost in hand. I grinned wickedly and gave them a “come here” motion. On that cue, they lunged for me. I gave the first one a whack in the head, the second in the gut, the third one in the… you figure it out, you know, head, gut…wow, that was close to another tangent. No squared reference this time.

Man, I was becoming quite the kick-butt warrior, eh?

I gave it a second of thought, and then decided that going for Sam and the rest was a bad move. I mean, they aren’t dying, they have power in numbers, and I don’t think I could take on another guard. I decided to find where Mic went.

It was rather easy, actually. Just follow the thin stream of blood. I ran down the hall, dropping the bedpost and preferring to hide from guards instead. I was almost spotted a couple of times, but I had a mission, and I wasn’t going to fail.

I found that the trail ended below a sewer I swear to Yah, I almost turned back. You have fun in the afterlife, Mic, because there is no way in heck I am going to walk into…aw, who was I kidding? Soon enough I was foot-deep in human waste-filled water.

It didn’t take me long to find Mic and Jacob, both lying motionless in the water. I didn’t care about Jacob; it was Mic who I wanted to see alive.

I looked closer and realized that would probably never happen. Tears flooded my eyes yet again as I took Mic into my arms, shot three times and begged him to wake up.

Then, in a rush of adrenaline, I lifted Mic over my shoulders and started running. When we got to a ladder, I climbed up with only moderate difficulty, not really noticing the weight of a world on my shoulders. I popped up out of a manhole.

Unfortunately, it was in a busy street, and I nearly lost my head in a ridiculously cartoon-like way. When the coast was clear, I ran down the street, around corners and onto a boat.

I set Mic down gently in the boat and told the gondola man “The nearest hospital you can find, stat!”

Unfortunately, seeing what he interpreted as a dead body in his boat, he jumped out and started running. I shouted an obscenity and started rowing, rather clumsily as a matter of fact. I looked at a map and saw that the hospital was a right and a left away from here. I told Mic, “Don’t worry, Mic, I'm gonna get you help,” as I started pushing the gondola down the stream.

----------------------------------

Narration of Ema Felkis
What, no comment on her narration?

I looked up in awe as Kim of all people walked down the stairs, past the guards she knocked out, to let us out of our cages. I hadn't seen the large ace bandage around her chest yet.

“Kim… how… I mean, wow!” I sputtered like Sam’s car going over 25mph.

“Hey, guys!” she grinned proudly as she unlocked the cages. “Nice to see you!”

Buffy looked shocked, and worried. “Kim, you’re nearly dead. Why are you here?”

She shook her head. “No, the doctors are amazing. I was patched up easily.”

“How did you figure out how to get here?” was Buffy’s next question.

“You kidding me, Buffy?” Kim responded. “You’re all over the news! America’s in bad shape, Buffy. The suicide group is ready to blow up the White House. Everyone knows you’re here, but America isn’t taking any risks. So I had to.”

Nicolas scoffed. “That’s mother freaking nice, America. Had we been in Aussie, the Prime Minister himself would be running over here to save a hero. We risk our lives to save them, and they can’t even return the *expletive* favor!”

Suki looked at him mournfully and said, “Does it really matter? We’re free again, and one stronger. We will survive.”

“Oh, god, Suki, now I must fight to prevent myself from singing that out loud,” he joked.

Suki smiled and hugged him before we started filing single-file out the doors. Sam and I were the first ones out.

“Hold up guys.” I told them, hand out. “We need to get us clearance outside of the building. Give us five minutes, and then just follow the path of the knocked-out guards.”

Buffy nodded. “Um…okay. Stay safe.” She smiled at us. “And guys, I am really proud of you.”

Sam and I smiled back, Sam adding a typical, “Couldn’t have done it without you," as we ran up the stairs, grabbing one of the guards' guns that Kim had knocked out.

I poked my head through the door and looked around. No one yet. I tried to remember which way we came in, from the right, I believe. I motioned a silent Sam to the right side and we started running.

Soon, we were forced to stop when we came across a group of guards that were around the corner. Through gritted teeth, I said, “Don’t move a muscle.” He nodded, causing me to roll my eyes, but I said nothing more.

For about a minute, we stood motionless, refusing even to twitch. Suddenly, a small chunk of the dilapidated ceiling fell on Sam’s shoulder. He bit his lip to avoid crying out in pain, but he might as well have, because the piece knocked him over onto the ground with a conveniently loud thud.

The guards whirled around, and I reacted. I shot at the fluorescent lights, shattering them all over the guards. This distracted them, not to mention provided a few nasty cuts and scrapes, and we were able to make our exit. I pulled Sam up and we started running again.

We got to another corner, where Sam told me, “I owe you one, Em.”

I nodded and turned my head around the corner. Bad move. A bullet whizzed through the air, missing my head by about a quarter-inch and removing a very uneven strip of hair. Sam yanked me back instinctively and, without a gun, ran forward to the guards. I watched in awe as Sam dodged bullets that seemed sure to hit, took a guard’s hand and threw him to the ground out-cold, kicked a second one in the stomach while in the air, and took the third to task with a beautiful uppercut.
He motioned for me to follow him and we were off running again. Pretty soon we were at an exit. Only there was one problem. This was the wrong exit. I could tell because nothing looked as familiar as the first escape. I kicked the ground in frustration. We had made a wrong turn somewhere!

Sam looked at my worried face and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I would be, if we had gone the right way,” I vented, frustrated beyond belief.

Sam sighed. “Well, there’s nothing to do but to keep walking.” He grabbed a map from a rack and said “I can’t tell what this says, can you?”

“Well, this is a police station.” I said. “That would be polizia, right?” She took a look around her and, seeing the ocean said, “We’re right along the beach, so I guess since the place, I think, was below a sewer plant, we head along the beach closest to water until we find it.”

He nodded and, grabbing my hand intensely, we started to run. Soon, we ran out of all our energy, which was spent on beating up guards and escaping jail, and so decided to start walking. Then, I remembered. “Oh, *expletive*, Buffy!”

Sam slowed to a halt. “Oh my God, I forgot all about them, Ema. Well, hopefully they have our logic.”

Still nervous, I said, “We should probably wait here. Yeah, that’d be best.”

Sam smiled. “Ah, Italy. You know, being hostages and stuff, I never got a chance to take it all in, you know. It really is beautiful. I got to go back here sometime.”

I never let go of his hand. “That would be nice. I don’t remember the last time I was this close to the ocean. All we had back in Wyoming was a lake, a small one, mind you, for the summer. This ocean…it’s just amazing.”

Sam nodded. “I’ve traveled all around the world with my family, seen the ocean so many times, but it never gets old.”

I nodded. “It goes on, and on, and it never ends.” I said as I rested my head on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful.”

He nodded. “Why can’t life always be this easy?” he said with a sigh.

I faced him and told him “Then it wouldn’t be as fun.”

He smiled at me. “That is true, Ema.” Before checking his watch. “Well, the others are lagging behind. No hurry, though.”

I wrapped an arm around his neck and said, “Right. No hurry.”

I started to lean closer to him when suddenly a horrible pain seared through my leg. I screamed piercingly as I fell to the ground, trying to see what that was. I looked up and there were Sam’s parents, guns in hands.

I always heard that your boyfriend’s parents usually suck, but these guys take the cake.

----------------------------------

Narration of Kim Clayton

Ah, at last, I get to narrate! Brilliant! I would have narrated earlier, but I really wanted to create that sense of, “Oh my God, she’s dead!” You know, I just love messing with your heads.

Buffy, Nico, Suki and I were outside the police station, wondering where Sam and Ema were. We had made ourselves useful by knocking out more guards and taking their guns, but now we had been just standing around for five minutes. Our cynical Buffy suggested that they were hiding somewhere making out. What is it with Buffy and thinking that they’re making out, I swear to god!

“Buffy, seriously.” I told her. “They could be in trouble and that’s all you can think up? Show some common sense, woman!”

She sighed. “Well, I’d rather that then them being dead.”

I rolled my eyes. “Cynicism sure isn’t dead with you, Buffy. They probably just went too far or got lost or something. Too bad they don’t have their cell phones. I mean, whoever is behind this, Rob Stevens, I think, would probably have taken your cell phones, am I right?”

Buffy looked at me. “Rob Stevens isn’t behind all of this.” She took a breath. “Sam’s parents are.”

I gasped. What the French? “But…they’re dead…and yet, they…this does not compute…”

Suddenly, about a quarter-mile away, a gunshot rang out, followed by a shrill shriek and a figure thinly in the distance falling to the ground.

“Oh holy guacamole.” I said.

Buffy said, “I’ll re-brief you along the way.”

And off we ran, and in-between taking deep breaths, Buffy told me pretty much everything you know that I didn’t. I finished that talk in some serious freaking confusion. But that didn’t matter because we had a shot person on the ground. The real police weren’t exactly going to help, so…

I ran the fastest out of all of them. I do run track at Cleveland High, and so I had an advantage of sorts. I was the first to realize that two people that I assumed to be Sam’s parents had gunned Ema down. I shrieked in terror, but was somewhat relieved that she was conscious, clutching her leg and crying out in pain. Sam was horrified, having a standoff with his parents. This had to be the suckiest day of his life.

For a minute, nothing happened, and all was silent except Ema’s heartbreaking cries of pain that happened on and off, about every five seconds. I looked at Sam’s face, and he was trying so hard not to show any pain, but I could see tears fill his eyes. I swear to God, I almost lost it and shot his parents brainless.

Suddenly, his dad (whose name I later learned was named Timothy) started running across the beach towards Sam. This struck me as both weird and stupid, until I saw him yank Ema up by the arm and drag her over to where he and Ellen were standing.
Sam shouted a loud obscenity.

“Now, Sammy, you know not to talk that way,” Ellen said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“I don’t give a *expletive*! You let her the *expletive* go right now or I swear to god I will *expletive* you both up!” Sam shouted.

I was trying so hard to hold in snickers. After all, this was serious. But for a guy who wants people to censor their language, he sure uses a lot of it.

Timothy looked at all of us. “You all leave now. Your girlfriend goes with us. This girl has been half the source of trouble in our plans, and I’ve had enough. Leave now or she dies.” He said as he put a gun to Ema’s head.

Sam looked as if he was SOL. He tries to save Ema, she dies. He lets her go, he faces years of guilt, and she lives in misery forever. He doesn’t want to kill them; they’re his parents, somewhere deep down. He stared them down for another minute, the rest of us running to a safe distance.

Then an amazing sequence of events followed.

In a split-second, Sam gets his gun out, aims and shoots at Timothy, knocking him to the ground with a bullet in his hand. Timothy accidentally misfires his gun when he is shot and shoots Ellen in the head, knocking her to the ground, dead. Seeing that he killed his wife, he aims at Ema in point-blank range, albeit with shaky aim, and gets ready to fire.

Simultaneously, all six of us fired at him. He stepped back, stunned, before crumpling to the ground, as dead as can be.

I fell to the ground in absolute awe, blurting out, “What the heck just happened?”

Lightning crashed into the ocean, and rain started pouring down on the scene. Sam, with torment in his eyes, ran over to Ema, and asked, “Are…are you okay?”

Ema responded with a weak nod.

Sam opened his mouth to say something else, and then broke into a sob in Ema’s limp arms. Rain cascaded on him as he took
Ema into his arms to mourn the death of his parents for a second time.

Lightning crashes, an old mother dies…



Epilogue - MIC & MOY

MIC

Narration of Buffy

On the whole, the scene was quite sad. Sam, cradling Ema in his arms, standing over the dead bodies of his parents, while Kim, Nick and Suki, and myself just stood there silently mourning with him.

Gradually, it dawned on me that Ema ought to be taken to the hospital, which I pointed out. Ema had passed out at this point. He looked down at her, then nodded, and, taking one last look at his dead parents, walked behind me to a nearby unoccupied boat, the rest of the crew following close behind. We sat in complete silence as I rowed to what I believed to be a hospital according to a map lying in the boat. It was quite surreal. It was over. It was all finally over. But it felt like as though we had only just begun.

After a few minutes we reached the hospital. We all exited the boat in silence, then walked directly into the hospital's emergency room.

"Excuse me!" I said. "I have a shot patient here! I need immediate medical attention!"

Immediately two nurses rushed over to us with a cot, onto which Sam placed Ema. "Follow us," said one of them, and we all followed, in silence.

We swiftly walked down white corridors and tile floors, passing closed door after closed door. So much suffering, so much pain. Finally, the nurses motioned us into an empty room. I signaled Kim, Nick, Sam, and Suki to enter before me, but as I was about to enter I noticed something else even more concerning.

Fifteen feet down the hall were two more nurses rolling a cot on which lay a very badly bloodied body, and following the cot was…Dania.

"Oh my God!" I cried as I started running down the hallway. "Dania!"

This prompted Sam to hurry out of the room and follow me, calling back to the others, "Stay with Ema!" Dania looked up, initially alarmed at two figures charging at her, then relieved when she saw it was us.

"Sam!" she cried, running towards him. They met with an embrace I should only be blessed to see again between two siblings. Both were crying, though tears of joy or sadness I knew not. After fifteen precious seconds, they broke apart.

"Dania," Sam said suddenly. "Where's Mic?"

Dania simply bit her lip and looked down, and we all knew.

"Shiitake mushrooms!" cried Sam as we all bolted down the hallway towards the cot. And sure enough, our fears were confirmed. There, lying on the cot, was Mic.

"Jesus," I said. "What happened?"

Dania started sobbing hysterically. "I…I don't know…he got shot again…I wasn't there…he…he was unconscious…I don't even know if he's still alive!" And then we lost her to tears.

I looked at Sam, panic on my face. "Three bullets kills people even in Hollywood movies."

He nodded. "I'd better go tell the rest of the group. Stay with Mic!" he said as he started running back to Ema's room.

I wrapped an arm around a hysterical Dania as we followed Mic and the two nurses into another room. They motioned us to sit in two chairs by the door as they put on masks, gloves, and a white hood like thing that doctors and nurses will often wear and immediately set to work, grabbing various tools and such that for the life of me I couldn't figure out. I winced as what looked as one of them inserted what appeared to be very large tweezers into Mic's stomach while the other held the skin apart. Blood spurted out of the wound as the nurse removed a bullet. She said something in Italian, then the other nurse turned Mic over on the cot and they repeated the procedure, removing another bullet. Then they went for the foot, again repeating the procedure and removing the final bullet. The nurses then removed their gloves and washed their hands, then approached me.

"His organs are not damaged," one said with a strong accent, "but he has lost too much blood. Unless we can find a donor soon, he won't make it."

Dania buried her head in my arm as her sobs became more profound. I tried not to show any emotion as I cooly asked, "What blood type?"

"O. We need somebody else with O blood type. Only 4% of the population carries that."

I grimaced. It didn't look good. I knew I was A, but I didn't know about the others.

"Test me," said Dania, regaining her composure. The nurse nodded, then beckoned her to follow. I in turn ran back to Ema's room.

"Guys! Are any of you blood type O?"

Ema, who was now conscious and smiling, said, "Not me, why?"

"Mic needs it. Badly. Dania's getting her's tested right now, but if any of you know, the sooner the better."

Sam looked up. "I'm not." Nick and Suki nodded in agreement.

"Great. It's all up to Dania then."

"I'm coming with you," said Ema, trying to get up, but Sam instantly grabbed her and gently lay her back down.

"You're a great friend," he said grimly, "but a fool. You can't walk and you know it," Ema didn't look pleased, but nodded. Sam nodded back, then said, "Come on guys." We all immediately filed out of the room. Down the hallway again…how many times would I walk down it before the day was done? We soon reached Mic's room and was met with a very pleasant surprise.

On another cot lay Dania, the transfusion process already started. She smiled as we walked in. "It's gonna be OK," she told us, and at last no longer able to contain it, I burst into tears. Suki followed suit, followed by Kim and then Sam. Only Nick didn't cry. When we all raised eyebrows, he simply shrugged and said, "We Aussies are tough."

---------------------------------------------

MOY

Narration of Sam Eastman

It’s November now, and leaves fall on me every time I go outside. It had been a few months now since we closed the Runouw.com Case, presumably for good. The true masterminds, my parents, appeared to be dead, as did Rick, Rob, Brock, Pete and Jacob. Oh yeah, about Rob. I forgot to tell you that he was killed by one of his own guards, who mistook Rob for one of us and shot him. With the entire leadership down, their organization crumbled and either disbanded or were caught by the police. We were all awarded congressional medals of honor by the President himself for our services to the country, and once again we achieved worldwide fame and were all over the news. And that was about it for the case.

As for college, I put it on hold. I had a job, and even though it had its horrific downs (like being forced to kill my evil parents), it had its amazing highs (Ema, Mic, Buffy, Kim and saving the world). I didn’t even do much photography anymore. Sometimes I question if I ever wanted to.

With Rob and Rick dead and his parents imprisoned for being involved in running the North Carolina branch of their organization, ownership of Rob’s apartment was given to me. Dania and I moved in and cleaned up immediately, although it took a few days. I was glad to be closer to Ema and the rest. I got a new car as payment for the job, a 1990 Ferrari that, while in bad shape, was better than my old clunker. Right now Mic and I are fixing it up every Sunday.

As for Ema, I am glad to call her the love of my life. We’re maintaining a great relationship, and I seriously regret not falling for her sooner. She still does architectural work, and is in the process of getting a building design passed by the city. I’m always at the front of the stands watching her.

Buffy officially quit her exasperating job at the school and became the police chief of Portland, despite the fact that she still hobbles. As for Kim, she recovered fully from her gunshot wound, but, hey, if she could leave the hospital with a bullet still in her heart, fly halfway across the world and save our butts, recovery’s just a hop, skip, and jump away from that, as she would say.

Mic. Ah, Mic. As you recall, he got shot twice in the stomach and in the foot. It took some time to recover, but soon he was back with the force continuing his internship. He has kept busy taking down the gangs of the city, and doing a good clean job of it too. No taser misfires as far as I'm aware. Meanwhile, ever since he bought her a brand new pair of American Eagle slippers, Dania has been visiting every day. I tell you, I hope it doesn’t take a year for sparks to fly between them.

We buried Alex Card at the base of the Tavern, under the Cherry Blossom Tree. Nicolas went as far to rename the Tavern “Card's Tavern.” But it wasn’t as catchy, so he changed it back within a week, still paying respect to the drawl-laden bartender by putting, “Rest in Peace Alex Card…It’s a Quarter after One and We Need You Now,” on the Tavern sign. A nice touch, I guess, but between you and me, it’s a bit gaudy.

At the Tavern, Nico and Suki are celebrating their one-year anniversary, and I couldn’t miss it. They were extended family, and besides Dania, the only family I had now was all of my friends. I would enjoy this like I would my parent’s anniversary.
I went into the parking lot by Union Station, looked at the Ferrari, got my keys out and hopped in. I put the key in the ignition, and the turned it sideways, hoping for the best.

Nothing happened except a few pathetic putting noises. I banged on the dashboard and tried again. Voila! The engine purred beautifully. I started the gas and drove down 5th avenue.

Ema was on the balcony of her CyanPDX building when I started honking. In just over a minute, she had run out the building and jumped the door into the convertible.

“Wowwee, Sam, this is beautiful!” she told me as she made herself comfortable.

I looked at her for a few seconds, before I realized what I was doing. I turned, what does Ema call it, Embarrassment Red? I then told her, “Well, Mic and I have been working on it. I wanted to surprise you.”

She grinned at me and said, “Ready to jump some overpasses today?”

We knuckle-touched and I said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The car cruised up 4th Avenue with record speeds, oblivious to the law we guarded, if just for a moment.


Fin.

[zebtrestalala]

Good writing, once again team Runouw.com connection!

I really like where this story is going, you've all improved in writing and the mystery is just as intriguing as the original story. I can't wait to see more of this story.

But...it seems kind of strange that MIC would go to Italy without his parents when they had just almost been killed in an explosion. A little.