---
Dedicated to polarice2224 for thanking me. Ayhow, I'm having a hard time making all the required tidbits for the Fandango backstory. I might even put it into a different chapter, like fit it in somewhere. Anyhow, I hope you guys like this chap, I finally found out what the roles are for Sto, Nat and Carol. Heh, hope you agree with Nat's decision, because no laughing gas was involved in the making of this chapter.
---
Sure, we didn't know exactly what or who we were running from, but common sense took over and made our legs function. Carol sped to th front and beckoned us around town, as we turned street corners upon random choice, jaywalked several times (I caught Nat waving to a police officer, who scowled) and eventually skittered into an elevator. Carol chose three buttons at random.
"I still think we're still being followed," I panted.
"Yea. Sto, we should split up." Nat looked sad at his own decision. "Will you be okay?" He smiled, the glare off of his emerald green eyes sparkling. Wait - since when did I think like that?
Meh, writers think like so all the time..My common sense reminded me.
"That was my plan, lovebirds." Carol snickered at the namecalling. "Sto, take 9, I'll take 6. Nat, eleven." She pressed her lips together and pulled her blond hair into a bun, wo wisps falling behind her ears. I took this time to notice her features. Carol wore a sweater, white with blue trim. It was a turtleneck, spruced up with a phoenix-like pin, except that it was blue. She wore contacts, based on the glare in her eyes. She was about 6 feet tall, and had pale complexion. Carol had very slim but distinctive eyebrows and hazel eyes.
4....5....6... The elevator's doors opened and Carol swung out. Right before the doors slammed shut, Carol turned around and winked at us before running off.
"Stormy?" Nat stood his ground, bervously watching the numbers tick on.
"Yeah, Nat?" I reponded, sweat lining my forehead. I was the least bit claustrophobic, and I absolutely hated elevators, especially since there were no windows.
"I have a very bad feeling about this. Are..are you okay?" Nathaniel looked straight into my eyes. He must have been surprised at their somewhat violet hue. "Your eyes..."
"Are reacting to the light, they're brown, and I'm claustrophobic." I snapped.
"You don't look okay." Nat held my hand now. "Your pulse, it's racing."
"Like I said, I hate elevators."
"Power in numbers," Nathaniel reminded me. "As long as we're together, chances of survival doubles."
There we have it. My pulse was racing, I was panting from the run, and was in an elevator, where an amazing and loyal friend was holding my hand. My head started clouding and buzzing, the room spinning. I leaned against the corner of the elevator, my head in my hands. Nat's voice was blurred, his face contorting a little. I couldn't close my eyes, though I really wanted to.
"Stormy, STORMY!" I groaned.
"Don't leave me." I moaned. Nathaniel leaned in.
"Never." He whispered.
At that moment, I thought that I had been breathing in laughing gas, AKA nitrous oxide, because Nathaniel leaned in really close, and locked his lips with mine. He held my head closer to his. My eyes snapped open, and then I blacked out.
YOU ARE READING
The Travel Column
AdventureAll Stormy Triston did was interview a leading scientist, no biggie. He leaked to her his master theory, still no biggie. Snoop in her notes? A little less than normal but bearable, it was Wevel's fault on releasing the theory. Add not-Carson, a lo...
