The Prison Project [-Editing-]

17: Trey

SUPER short filler chapter. I just needed something to set the scene for his next narration. Hope you enjoy nonetheless :)

17: Trey

Back in the motel room, Howie and I discuss where to go to next.

“There’s no pattern,” Howie says. “No pattern at all.”

“Well, there’s kind of a pattern,” I say, examining our map of the States. “It’s not much of one, but they seem to be following a curve.” I trace my finger from Oklahoma to California.

“Do you think they could be moving in a circle?”

“Quite possibly. But the question is: where does the circle end? And even if we can figure that out, how do we know that’s where they’re keeping their victims?”

Howie runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “This is proving to be more difficult that we originally thought it would be.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re going to stop trying though, does it?”

“No. No, of course not. It’s just…I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“I am too, Howie. But we have to do this. For Scott and Linley.”

“And Marisol.”

“Yes. And Marisol.”

He purses his lips and nods slowly. “What do you suggest we do in the meantime?”

“We wait,” I say, putting the map away.

“For what?”

“Until they strike again. We’ll have a better idea of a pattern then. And if we can pick it up, we can follow them from there.”

Howie nods. “Okay.”

We had to wait for three days before we got any news of the Envisioneers.

Howie and I were sitting in our motel room, laying low and waiting patiently. We had the news on 24/7, listening and watching for any sign of them. And finally, it came.

“The Envisioneers have been sighted again, this time in Oregon,” the reporter says. Howie and I sit bolt upright as she continues: “Twenty-two year old Gary Porter was taken straight from his home this very night. His girlfriend, Savannah Hooper, tried to call for help, but was given a shot of some sort before she could reach anyone. As usual, the Envisioneers, left no trace but their characteristic needle, still slightly filled with a strange, fluorescent green liquid.”

“Oregon,” Howie says. “That’s right above California.”

“We need to get to their next target state as soon as we can.”

We continue to watch the news. Savannah Hooper talks into the microphone. It is obvious that she has been crying, and there is a very prominent shaking in her hands.

“Washington?” Howie asks.

“Washington,” I reply.

•••

Howie and I pack up, check out of the motel, and begin our drive.

“Where in Washington do you suppose we should go?” Howie asks.

“I’m not sure. Maybe we should start with Olympia?”

“Why the capital?”

“I think they’re targeting capitals. If you think about it, that’s where they’ve struck every time. You live in Oklahoma City, I live in Sacramento, Marisol was taken from Phoenix, and Gary went missing from Salem.”

“That’s a very good point. To Olympia we go.”

The drive takes hours. Howie allows me to put on Linley’s Green Day CD’s as we drive. I try to remember her before she was taken: her twinkling green eyes, her ridiculously long hair, her mother’s cap, and the smile that she could never seem to wipe off her face, no matter what. I begin to realize that she really was always happy, no matter what. Of course, there were times when she would get sad, but the majority of the time she was thankful and content with what she had in life. I frown as there is a sharp pang in my chest. I miss her. I miss her so much. I miss hearing her drumming as I tried to do my homework, I miss being able to watch movies and TV with her, content to just be with each other, I miss that she would go outside at night and play with Boone, re-entering the house covered in mud and grass, all the while smiling that beautiful smile of hers.

I sigh, louder than I intended to. Howie looks over at me.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“I just…” I start, but I have to stop. It almost hurts to talk about it. “I miss her.”

He smiles. “I know how you feel. I miss Scott, too.”

I turn to him. “Tell me about Scott. I feel like I’ve told you everything about Linley, but I haven’t heard much about your rescue mission.”

He grin grows wider. “Well…he’s a fantastic kid. Smart, kind, great sense of humor, adventurous…he used to try to jump off our roof with only a blanket to use as a parachute. My mom had to get him down so many times.” He pauses and laughs. “There was another time, when we were younger, when we were playing hide and seek. We started in the morning. It was my turn to search. He, being the stubborn and brilliant kid that he is, decided to hide in the oven. We didn’t find him until my mom turned on the oven to start dinner. He announced that he didn’t want to get burnt, but that he still believed that he had won that round. Then he looked directly at me and told me that it was my turn to hide, as if nothing had happened.”

He laughs again. I notice that a single tear has slipped down his face.

“I miss him too,” he whispers.

“We’ll find them,” I say. “I know we will.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I know we will too.”

We continue to ride in silence. I think about my parents and I wonder how they’re doing. I know that they must be devastated, and I know now that my decision to run off on my own and find Linley was pretty stupid of me, but it’s worth it. She is worth it.