The Greatest Fears Come From Beneath

Time to go.

Jesus knew the way to Jessica's, so he drove. We didn't go under 70 MPH the entire time, even at curves. An SUV was already in front of her house when we got there. We got our rifles and ran towards the house. Jessica appeared at the door with a shotgun and pointed it at us. Apparently she had taken out the terrorist goons at her house, too. I could tell by two legs sticking out of the window next to her. She rattled off something accusingly. From what I could tell, she thought that we had sent them to her for some reason. It made no sense, but I don't know Jessica at all.

   Jessica and Jesus went at it for about 5 minutes. Jessica's parents were peeking out the window near the front door at us, visibly shaken. Jessica gradually wound down and lowered her weapon. Jesus then asked her if she had looked inside the terrorist car yet. She shook her head and walked over to it. There was another file in there, which she first tried to keep, but Jesus got her to show us. This one didn't look like it was in French, but in Arabic. At the top, though, like on the papers in the file in our car, were three circles with a circle around them, it reminded me of Mickey Mouse. I asked Jessica if she had called the police yet, she nodded. I leaned against Jessica's terrorist car and sighed. I straightened up again. My dad had said that this organization was in America, too. We could easily be taken to this organization by the police without the police even knowing. All it would take would be having to go to headquarters to provide a statement or questioning and be handed over shortly after. I told Jessica as best as I could what will happen, but she ignored me, probably knowing what i said but hating me anyway. Fine.

   I decided if she wanted to be left behind, fine. I pulled Jesus along with me. He was too out of it because of what happened earlier to care, it seemed. I threw him in the passenger seat and pulled out. Jessica had bent us over a pole and spanked us by calling the cops. They already knew who was involved and what happened, which meant that we cohldn't  stay here, or in the town. Jesus was asleep by the time we left her property. We headed East for a while and pulled into a truck rest stop.

     Now forgive me for not saying this earlier, critics, but I have had a small fortune in my shoes for quite some time. Come on, my dad works every day at Jack in the box and I work there after school every day. We have few expenses so why not have some money for myself. Fuck, fine I forgot it was there for the past 4 months until now honestly. Really... Why even try...

    Knowing the movie stereotypes I asked a kindly Duck Dynasty Truck driver for a lift. Jesus' truck had 3 miles left on the tank and I hadn't woken him up yet to tell him how royally screwed we were. The driver said go to hell, finished his 4th Bud, and crawled into the drivers seat and left. The second guy actually fit the stereotype and offered his Bud and a ride, which I happily accepted. I headed back to tell Jesus as best as I could what was going on but he was already awake, wide eyed and furious at me since he had no gas left. I'm sure he was mad but I don't know what he said, our communication isn't that casual so he just looked like he was having a stroke. I roughly explained myself but he really wasn't having it. He flopped in the passenger seat and pouted.

    Truck Driver number 2, who will be known now as Earl, said he would be leaving at 4:30 the next morning. I thanked him in advance and spent the next hour next to the vending machines near the bathroom to get some kind of plan in motion. I started by counting my forgotten stash. $780. That's not bad, I thought. Then the money's smell hit me. Bad.
                                        ............................................

   At around 9:30 that night I went back to Jesus, who was listening to a Chuck-E Cheese ad in spanish. Something I never want to hear again. I gave him my rundown of my plan so far: get to Virginia, that's where my dad was stationed before all this started when he was in the Military, try and find someone there who knew him or knows who knew him, and follow the trail. Our language barrier couldn't keep Jesus from giving a, "yeah that's gonna work, genius." look. At least he seemed more calm  than earlier. He didn't seem like he really cared though.

   "You are coming, right?"

    He paused for a good 30 seconds thinking hard. "I still have my family, dude. It's easy  for you to just go, you have no responsibilities here. Your dad is all you have, I can't do that. My family needs me. They're still in danger. I am not going to abandon them right after that attack. Whatever you need to do, do it. I'm rooting for you, and that is all I can do.
  
    What he said hurt, but made sense. I had screwed him over enough the past couple of days, and it would be easier in my own.

    "Here's 40. Get home, man. Gas station's a mile west.

   "I'm sorry dude, I hope you get what you need.

   "Yeah."

   He gave me a pat on the head and got into the driver's seat. He breifly waved and pulled out of the lot.

    Earl was singing to Brad Paisley when I came up. He handed me another Bud.
   
    "Is your buddy ready?"

    "No, he left.

    "Damn piece of shit. Sorry son, you can't trust them foreigners can you?".