The Plus One

Chapter One

a/n: this chapter has been almost completely redone. If you have already read it, please reread this story from the beginning.

Chapter One/ Part One- Chase

A powerful roar led into a fire-crackling pop shattered the cold night air, drawing the attention of everyone outside of the airport. In the second lane closest to the loading section, a glossy red beast of a car hummed just two inches off of the payment. He shot the driver an annoyed glance, but there was no seeing through the tinted windshield so he returned his attention to his phone. Cecil tried to ignore the sea of people around him, attempting to drown out the pertinacious thoughts in his mind. For the last month and a half, he had been plagued by a potentially fatal train of thought laying tracks through his head. These thoughts started with the basic scientific method: making an observation, forming a hypothesis, making a prediction, conducting an experiment, and analyzing the results. Then the thoughts expanded into the realm of scientific experimentation, eventually leading him to form his own hypothesis: a decade's worth of rehabilitation was sufficient enough to prevent him from taking someone else's life. So, he reached out to the source of his homicidal cravings- called her out of the blue- asking her to join him as a plus-one for some local family events. If Cecil could be around her for an extended weekend, and still allow her to live, then he would know that it had worked. Now, he sat reading an article on the legalization of Psilocybin mushrooms for medical purposes outside of the airport, waiting for her to open her heart to him once more.

Half way through his reading, another roar broke the night with a fiery crackle. The traffic moved slowly but steadily, it was close enough now for Cecil to see the Honda badge on the front, but further details were not worth pondering. Around him, people loaded in and out of waiting vehicles, while those driving circled in four lanes until they found who they were looking for. The buzz of the holidays was growing, accented by the white lights wrapped around the awning support beam; he tried to ignore all of it. His dark eyes returned to the screen; studying the therapeutic uses of  Psilocybin mushrooms had been demonized for decades, but many scientists still conducted experiments with them. In many ways, this trivial thing proved a point that Cecil had been trying to make for years: even the smartest people could do the stupidest things. Many renowned scientists had failed in their respective experiments the first few times. They adjusted parameters and tried again, often finding success further down the line. Many of those same scientists were aware that the consequence of failure could result in another person's life ending, and still they proceeded. This scientific comparison was his rationalization of his travel plans this week.

Out of his direct line of sight as he continued to read the article, the red Honda pulled up to the curb with its hazards on. Then, it abruptly shattered the night with a high pitched hiss that cascaded into a defeating crackle that shot adrenaline through Cecil's veins. For almost ten seconds, the exhaust shot flames against the asphalt as he leapt from the bench as though it were hot; his dark eyes frantically seeking the source of his terror, until they found the red beast in front of him. The headlights flashed twice and when he did not move, they flashed twice more. Suddenly he was moving towards the vehicle, his suitcase in tow.

A thud signified the trunk was open so he tossed his bag beside a bottle of oil and dirty rag, the exhaust rumbling beside his ankle. He took a deep breath to steady himself before opening the door and noticed just how far he would need to drop.

    "What could possibly possess you to attach such an obnoxious flamethrower to your car?"

    He spoke in his native tongue, Italian, as he fell into the passenger seat. At his right shoulder, the seatbelt had an extra pair of straps but his attention immediately fell to the driver side. River Yim beamed at him with a large grin on her stunning face, her emerald green eyes sparkled. Though she understood what he said, her response would be in English:
    "How nice of you to greet me so sweetly after all these years," sarcasm saturated her tone.