(A/N: This chapter is in Bassler's POV so Dana and Sierra are off somewhere else)
Pharaoh Bonnie Bassler stood in the middle of the hallway, pacing back and forth while furiously combing his hand through his cropped hair.
"Why could they have gone?" He muttered to himself before looking towards Mr. Marren and Christina, who had situated themselves on the floor with defeated looks marring their faces. Christina shrugged, turning her gaze away as her eyes filled up with unspilled tears. Mr. Marren took off his glasses and rubbed his temples.
Suddenly, Christina's eyes lit up and she reached into the backpack lying beside her. Both Mr. Marren and Pharaoh Bassler shared confused looks.
"Listening to my favorite band helps me think," Christina explained before putting her earbuds in her ears. She adjusted her circle scarf and closed her eyes in concentration. Opening one eye, she nodded to Mr. Marren, who was seated beside her.
"Might as well try," He mumbled before taking one of the earbuds that Christina had then offered. He murmured along to the song and soon, the two were humming in symphony.
Pharaoh Bassler shook his head and mumbled an incoherent sentence about "technologically advanced gangbangers". He then promptly walked down the hallway of the hospital and wandered around as if he would find Dana as he was walking.
"I like this band. What's their name?" Mr. Marren questioned as the first song came to an end.
"George W. Bush," Christina replied as she subconsciously raised her shoulders up and down with every syllable. "This song is my favorite. It's called White Supremacy."
"It's an odd name but an overall catchy tune," Mr. Marren concluded after a moment of thought. "The lyrics remind me of a poem I once read in the summer while I was raising two chameleons."
"Two chameleons?" Christina asked. Mr. Marren didn't come off as the kind of person who would raise two chameleons. Just caring for one required dedication.
"Yes. I took care of them while I camped up in a cabin in the Himalayas. It was an odd time for me. I was having a Thoreau moment," He reasoned mostly to himself. Christina tried to maintain a neutral expression as she nodded along.
Out of nowhere, the pharaoh came running down the hall with what seemed to be a black sphere cradled in his arms.
"I found it," he huffed, trying to catch his breath. Christina and Mr. Marren shared confused looks.
"Found what, exactly?" Christina questioned as she eyed the item that was held so tightly in his grasp.
"The answer to our prayers." Christina and Mr. Marren shared another look of confusion as the pharaoh sighed to himself.
"This is going ot help us get Dana back." Pharaoh Bonnie Bassler gestured to the sphere, holding it closer so they could get a closer look at it.
"Oh my god," Mr. Marren mumbled as he leaned forward.
"It's like a magic 8 ball!" Christina exclaimed, taking a step back in astonishment.
"Exactly." Pharaoh Bassler held the ball up to the light, observing it carefully.
"I can't believe it," Mr. Marren's voice picked up in volume as he stood up slowly. "You really think that's going to help us find Dana? It's a sham! Where did you find it, the Nickel Shrub?"
Christina gasped at the harshness of Mr. Marren's voice. His usual calm demeanor had changed immensely at the sight of the fortune telling item.
Pharaoh Bassler narrowed his eyes before poking an accusing finger at Mr. Marren's chest. "Who do you think you're talking to, Marren? I'm your leader."
Mr. Marren scoffed and shook his head. Much to the pharaoh's surprise, his shoulders began to tremor as he began to giddily guffaw.
"Mr. Marren, what's gotten into you?" Christina pressed as she looked worriedly at the pharaoh, who was practically melting over with fury.
"This whole situation has gotten out of hand. We've gone on this tremendous journey for one thing and one thing only: salvation. And now our salvation has been ripped from our hands. Can you tell me why that is, Christina?
"It was because we were too weak to take care of two teenage girls. Honestly, all we had to do was give them a raunchy magazine to sedate them. But, that didn't happen, now, did it? You," Mr. Marren spoke accusingly as he pointed the finger towards Christina, who at that point was shaking in her boots. "You were friends with these girls. All you had to do was assure them that they were safe! You already had their trust. And you-" Mr. Marren then shifted his anger towards the speechless pharaoh. "You, our so-called leader, were running around like a ballistic bafoon because of a stupid dinner platter that put a dent in your original plans. Did you forget that we were under your orders at that time? You distracted us from our main objective when you allowed yourself to run around like a lunatic. You were the reason they were able to escape with such ease! Now we have no idea where they are as the hope of mankind is being driven around most likely by a pack of idiotic teenage kids! And you want me to bestow my trust on a piece of plastic that even six-year-olds are smart enough to avoid buying? I don't care if you have a fine bosom, I don't even give a damn if you had a fine backside to match! You are the reason my one pet snake has left me. You are the reason I am still hanging on to the small sliver of credibility you still show to me so I can have at least an ounce of hope!'
As Mr. Marren tried to catch his breath, Christina and Pharaoh Bonnie Bassler merely blinked dazedly. A soft clink rang through the hallway they were standing in as the pharaoh unconsciously had dropped the magic 8 ball on the ground.
"Give me your car keys," Mr. Marren grumbled as he held his palm open. The pharaoh numbly gave the keys over and followed Mr. Marren as they quickly walked to the door leading outside. Christina shivered at the brisk breeze that was biting at her face. She readjusted her scarf so it wound more tightly around her neck.
"I'm going to find this girl if it's the last thing I do." Christina and the pharaoh looked at Mr. Marren in utter confusion. He shrugged in response before continuing, "I've always had a weakness for adventure. Now, please tell me you brought that stupid fortune telling ball." He looked over to Pharaoh Bassler, his lips quirking up slightly as the pharaoh nodded his head slowly.
"Good. Now let's just hope it actually works for once."
The ruffians then sped along the highway, following the path as directed by the pharaoh's magic 8 ball. Little did they know, they were riding steadily on the off chance that the fortunes would be truthful. They grew nearer and nearer to the abandoned warehouse, now pitch black inside, and finally came to a halt at their destination.
"I'm sorry for mistrusting your sphere," Mr. Marren mumbled before throwing the car keys towards Pharaoh Bassler.
"Unforgiven." Mr. Marren looked up in surprise, but breathed a sigh of relief as Pharaoh Bassler cracked a smirk. "Now, let's go find our salvation."
