White Shadows

Chapter 11 - Burnin' For You

***LUCA***

The good thing about getting arrested without ID, and without a previous record, is that they can't enter you in the system. Not right away, at least.

The bad thing is, they'll keep you and your buddies locked up in the drunk tank for hours. Paul, Gideon, Russell, and I in one cell, Mattia and Kensi in another. Which really sucks, especially right now that SFPD's having a serious rat problem. Or is that the Hall of Justice? It's one of those buildings that Mom and Dad see all the time on Murder in the First, anyway.

When they finally let us out, a huge chunk of this fine Saturday has come and gone. I can't even remember exactly what time it was when they captured us on Treasure Island, but I'm guessing it was around nine or ten in the morning. And now, it's half past three.

Not only that, but when they bring us all to the lobby, there's one conspicuous absence. A missing presence we've noticed since Russell was taken from our cell, handcuffed, and carted off, likely to interrogation.

"Excuse me?" I turn back to the officer who's just brought us out of our holding cell, but he's already got his back turned and is halfway to the door. "Where's-" I stop myself, not only because the officer's out of earshot now anyway, but also because I'm sure Russell wouldn't want me to use his name. After all, there's a reason why we didn't have any of our IDs on us - we're all hoping to remain absolutely anonymous.

"He must've gotten them to let us go," Mattia says, looking outside at the world beyond.

"Let's get back home," Kensi says.

Raising his eyebrows, Paul says, "For me, that's a couple hundred miles away. Now, maybe if we really hustled, I could get there in time for dinner, but-"

"I meant home in the city," Kensi says. "Like in the Blue Öyster Cult song?"

"Oh..." I smack my head, feeling stupid for not recognizing the lyrics until she specifically pointed them out. "Okay. Do any of you remember the way?"

"I do," Mattia says, striding through the automatic doors at the front of the building. We follow her outside, finding ourselves just off Market, with the huge Westfield Mall rising in the distance. Wind whips around us, buffeting us all as we walk. "We just gotta go a little ways down the street, then right on New Montgomery. After that, we'll be in a huge construction zone, so you'll have to stay right on my tail."

"How do you know all this again?" I ask.

"'Cause I've been living in that apartment for about a year now," she says. "On Russell's dime, too. I really should buy him something nice one of these days - if only I had enough money."

We set off, blending into the crowd as effortlessly as possible. In this part of town, even though it's the weekend, many passersby are wearing business suits and/or carrying briefcases. However, there's also the occasional other group of young people, maybe even a few hand-holding couples.

By the time we find our way back to Yerba Buena, we've spent almost an hour walking. Mattia wasn't kidding about the construction zone - it was so busy, we ended up having to walk around it instead of through. We're tired, and an empty bench in the middle of the park looks very inviting, so we all sit on it. The five of us don't really fit, until I think to sit on the arm of the bench. Mattia squeezes in next to me, with Kensi on the other side, and Paul right in the middle. Gideon takes the last bench - I think he's got the smallest ass out of the five of us, which helps.

"Is this a bench," Kensi asks, "or an open-topped clown car?"

Pretending to steer, Mattia says, "I dunno. Let's asks some actual clowns. Which way to the nearest circus?"