The Prison Project [-Editing-]

10: Trey

Hello readers.

Picture of Howie to the right -->

I already edited this, but I'm still not sure about it. I will send out a message if I edit it any further.

10: Trey

Bleary eyed and drowsy, I pull into an old gas station sitting in the middle of an empty small town. I lock the truck doors behind me as I climb out and enter the station. A bell on the door jingles when I enter, sending a soft tinkling noise through the room. An old man with a scraggly beard and scrawny frame stands at the counter, flipping through what seems to be an old copy of Sherlock Holmes. He looks up and smiles a kind smile, then nods in my direction. I return a small smile and a nod back as I make my way further inside. He returns to his book.

I sleepily make my way towards the coffee machine, desperate for some caffeine. I grab a coffee cup and begin to fill it up. As I do, I turn and take in the rest of my surroundings. Warm, afternoon sunlight filters in through the dusty windows, casting a warm glow around the room. There are only a few aisles, but they are filled to the brim with snacks, magazines, and other small pleasures. To my right is a small sitting area, where I see a boy with dark hair and pale eyes much like mine who seems to be about my age sitting and sipping on a soda.

He looks up and catches my eye. I quickly glance away and finish filling up my coffee. I press a lid down onto the cup and make my way towards the counter.

“Will that be all for you today?”the old man asks, his voice shaky and weak, but very kind and full of life at the same time.

“Yes,” I reply.

“That’ll be $2 please.”

I pull out my wallet and hand him the money. He gingerly takes it and places it in his cash register. He types something into the system and then stands there, as if waiting for something. After a few seconds of this, I notice that he keeps glancing up at me with a weird look in his eye. The machine whirs and spits out a receipt. As he hands it to me, he says, “Not to be nosy, but what’s a young boy like you doing all by his lonesome here in the middle of nowhere?”

I freeze. I don’t want to tell him why I’m by myself. I’m not supposed to be here. But I don’t want to seem rude. So I put on a smile and kindly say, “Just looking for someone.”

“And who might that be?” he continues. Then he wiggles his eyebrows and chuckles, “A girl, perhaps?”

I can’t help but laugh a little. “A girl, yes, but just a close friend of mine.”

“Well, alright then. Have a nice trip.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I collect my coffee and head out the door. As I make my way towards Linley’s truck, I glance back inside one last time and see the boy watching me leave with a curious look in his eye. I cease my observation and hop into the truck, taking a precious sip of glorious coffee. I start up the vehicle and begin to drive away, putting the small town behind me.

The surrounding area is nothing but dusty, barren desert. Not even cacti or dead bushes adorn the horizon. Just dirt and endless road. Sighing, I quickly look down to find the volume, with every intention of turning Linley’s music up, but I am stopped by sudden impact. My body is jerked roughly forward towards the dashboard. Glass shatters, and the truck begins to spin. I cry out, and then I abruptly come to a halt.

Smoke billowing out of the hood of the vehicle, I open the door and stagger out, coughing and sputtering. The entire front end of the truck is smashed in and broken. I immediately dig my fingers into my scalp and gasp.

“No,” I mumble. “No, no, no, no! No! No, this can’t be happening!” I begin to pace back and forth, a million thoughts running through my head all at once. I just crashed the truck. I have no way of getting to where I’m going, wherever that might be. I have no way of getting home if I need to. And… I look up again at the damage I have just done. The truck. LINLEY’S truck. My eyes go wide with realization. Uh oh.

“Dude, are you okay?”

I look up and see the boy from the gas station standing there, watching me with a concerned look on his face.

“She’s gonna kill me…” I whisper, more to myself than him.

“I didn’t catch that…?” he calls back, seemingly confused.

“She’s gonna kill me!” I shout, louder than I meant to.

He holds his hands up and backs up a little. “Whoa. Calm down. Who’s going to kill you?”

I swallow. “M-my friend…Linley…this is her truck.”

“Ouch.”

“I am so dead. So dead.”

“Well, you’ll have to break it to her, somehow. Is there any way for you to call her or something?”

I stop pacing and bring my hands down from my head. I frown and then sigh. “No,” I start sadly, “She was taken. I was on my way to find her. And now I have no form of transportation.”

As I say this, the boy gets a look of excitement and inquisitiveness. I raise my eyebrow at him, confused at why he would be pleased at the idea of my best friend’s abduction.

“Did you say she was taken?” he asks.

“…I did…”

“By people in black suits?”

“Uh, yes, actually-”

“Three to be exact?”

“Yes! How did you-”

“In the middle of the night, they broke in, they took her, and they injected something into you, didn’t they?”

“How in the world…?”

He steps forwards and holds out his hand. I take it and shake it.

“The name’s Tidwell,” he says.“Howard Tidwell. But you can call me Howie. And the same thing happened to me. They took my little brother, Scott. I’m trying to find him myself.”

“Trey Macnab,” I reply, laughing with relief. “It’s good to know I’m not alone.”

He smiles. “Same here. So now that we both know that we’re both in the same situation, and now that you have no truck, would you like to come with me?”

“Yes,” I say immediately. “Thank you.”

He smiles again. “No problem. I think we should probably stick together anyway. This is fishy business.”

“I agree.”

“Well then, let’s go.”

“Wait,” I say. “Let me grab something.”

I walk back over to the truck and climb in. I grab my backpack and begin to climb back out, but I stop and reconsider. I glance at the stereo system before deciding to grab all of Linley’s Green Day CDs as well. I stuff them all into my bag and then make my way back over to Howie.

“Okay,” I say, a new feeling of hope coming over me. “I’m ready.”