How To Save Rock And Roll

Chapter 24 - Wanted

"What are we supposed to do now?" Joe asked through gritted teeth, leaning against Patrick as they made their way down the alley - just after getting out of that building. The sun was beginning to set, and that part of the city was almost deserted, only a few people walking down the street.
"We gotta find somewhere to spend the night," He replied, gripping his friend tightly so he wouldn't fall, "And also find stuff to fix your leg."
"Why can't we just go to the hospital?" He looked up at his friends.
"I don't want to risk it. We might get caught, and if they find out it wasn't an accident, they'll tell the police, and they're with the Syndicate." Patrick explained, "I have to tell Y/N before they get them."
"How? We didn't take our phones with us last night. You want to find a payphone? Those things don't exist anymore," Joe retorted.
They walked out of the alley and into the main street. Patrick looked around and pointed his finger at something. "What did you say? They don't exist, uh?"
Joe looked at where his friend was pointing and saw an old payphone, "You got lucky."

They staggered over to the payphone and Patrick got inside, leaving Joe sitting on the ground beside the machine. He got his wallet out of the inside of his jacket and took out money to put in it. He dialed the number and put the phone to his ear.
"Y/N?" Patrick asked, looking down at his feet.
"Yeah, who's this?"
"It's me, Patrick."
"Patrick? But I thought..."
"Listen, I don't have that much time." He cut you short, "We got arrested by the Syndicate but we found a way to escape. They'll probably find out we're gone soon. They're coming for you, actually, they're already on their way. You have to go to the Blue Birds, they'll keep you safe, okay?" He explained, playing with the wire of the phone.
"Okay."
"Another thing," He blurted out, putting his head against the glass and closing his eyes, "Is it true about the baby?"
"What?"  You asked, confused.
"The baby, Y/N. Is it true that you were pregnant? Bre-they told me that." Tears started to form in his eyes.
"I-I don't..." You started but your voice was cut by the phone going to its limit.
"Y/N?" He opened his eyes, tears blurring his vision. "Y/N, please!" He exclaimed. He stuck the phone between his ear and shoulder as he looked into his wallet for some coins. He threw the wallet on the ground and slammed the phone back where it was as he realized he had no cash left, only his credit card that he couldn't use in this machine.
He stood there for a moment, a single tear rolling down his cheek and falling to the floor at his feet. He stared into space for moment, trying to stay calm, but he was brought to reality by Joe pounding on the glass, "Come on dude. Let's go."
Patrick picked up his wallet and left the payphone.

After a few minutes of wandering around, they arrived in front of an old hotel. Patrick took off his jacket and tied it around Joe's waist, hiding the bloody wound on his thigh.
"Act drunk," He told his friend.
They entered the hotel, Joe leaning on Patrick. They walked toward the counter.
"Hi. A room please," Patrick said.
The person behind the counter took a key and placed it in front of Patrick. They looked at Joe, a weird look on their face.
Patrick followed the person's gaze, "Oh, uh...he had a little too much fun tonight, if you know what I mean."
Patrick paid with his credit card, then walked with Joe toward the elevator and pressed the button, "Wait here," Patrick commanded, sitting Joe against the wall.
"Where would I go anyways?" Joe replied dully, making Patrick chuckle.
Patrick walked back to the counter and inquired, "Do you know where I could find a pharmacy? My friend will probably need some meds because of his hangover tomorrow."
"There's one down the street," The person answered without any emotion in their voice or face.

Once inside their hotel room, Patrick lied Joe on the bed.
"Take off your jeans," He ordered.
"Wait what?" Joe exclaimed.
"I want to see your wound."
"Oh okay. Well, help me then," The guitarist said, starting to take off his pants.
Patrick took the tissues he previously tied around the wound off and assisted him in taking his jeans off to look at Joe's thigh, "It's not that bad actually," The singer commented.
"Not that bad? I just got stabbed in the thigh!"
"You'll be okay." Patrick assured him and turned to look for something to fix it. He opened a drawer and found a stapler. He turned back to Joe who immediately scrambled as far away from Patrick as he could on the bed.
"Wait! Didn't you just ask that guy for a pharmacy?" He questioned, his eyes widening with fear.
"Yeah but I changed my mind."
"Don't touch me with that," Joe grumbled, crawling back closer to the wall, "I don't want those staples in me."
"But..."
"No! Go to the fucking pharmacy!" Joe almost shouted.
Patrick sighed and threw the stapler on the bed. "Okay, fine. Let me just clean myself a little bit."

Patrick entered the bathroom and turned the water on.
"Patrick. Come." Joe called after a few minutes.
He stepped out of the bathroom to find Joe pointing at the TV. "We're screwed."
Their faces were on TV with the word "wanted" above them.
"Two people got arrested last night by the guard of the Syndicate. We were just informed that they escaped. If you find them, call the police. They're dangerous."