Now There's Drama

115

At five o'clock Christie got on the bus. Much to her dismay Marc had not replied to her texts. In last minute desperation she sent the same text five times to Marc and Tegan. Exactly ten words in the text.

I am going to find KILLER thanks for your help

She pressed send. And then sent it five times.

Will be at Drama Theatre she texted when she got no response.

Tegan responded two minutes later, with - Don't you dare.

Christie responded with - I am going no what you may say or do (her love of grammar and cohesion had gone out the window at that point)

Tegan: I'm calling the police

Christie: Don't you dare Tegan Baxter

Christie didn't reply to any other text messages but finally called Lorenzo's number. If it was what Wesley wanted and if after tonight she couldn't set him free she had to do something.

Lorenzo picked up on the fifth ring, a good sign. "Hello Lorenzo speaking, how can I help you?" a thick Italian accent said through the phone.

"Hello, my name is Christie I'm Wesley's friend," she said. "Wesley has been...detained for a period of time and he wanted me to call you and let you know he's alright but he doesn't know how long it will be but he's sorry he hasn't been able to respond to you."

"Is he...alright?" he asked, his voice getting a few octaves higher.

"After tonight he will be," Christie said, as the bus pulled up at another bus stop.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"I'm about to catch a killer."

"Is that safe?"

"At least I'll leave this Earth doing something good."

She heard a sharp inhale on the other side of the phone. Before Lorenzo answered, "Where are you going?"

"The Drama Theater."

"I have to make a...call...on my cellular phone." The line went dead.

Stashing her phone back into her bag, she crossed her legs, tugging down her t-shirt while fidgeting on the itchy seat.

The bus ride took exactly forty-five minutes, a good number. Thanking the bus driver before climbing off the rusty steps and crossing the road. People filed in and out of the theater, she joined a group of toddlers and their parents who were slowly walking in. Walking over to the stairs, she ducked under the guard rope, and ran up them, to the room which was connected to the change rooms.

She was ten steps away from the door, when someone emerged from behind the green couch.

"What do you think you're doing Christie?" they said.

Christie gave them the finger while counting to twenty-five. Looking up she was confronted with a figure all dressed in black.

"And you would be who?" Christie said, nausea rising in her stomach as she formulated her answer. At the rate she was going she would end back in hospital.

"The Maiden of Darkness," she said.

"Is that a shower cap?" she asked, the sarcasm falling flat, as she counted the words in her response.

"It's a bandanna. Now are you ready to call the police? I'd prefer not to be saving your arse," the girl said.

"I need answers for the mystery...it's been destroying me," Christie said, still counting her words.