Getaway Car

2-morbid secrets

I hated secrets.

They were things that I couldn't have. Things that I couldn't know. I longed to figure out what was behind the imaginary wall that was preventing me from accessing the information that was held within.

And I was going to do whatever I could to break down that wall.

I started by calling him. Maybe he was gone on another "work" thing, and he was too busy to tell me or leave a note. As much as I wanted to believe that, I already knew it wasn't true.

1 ring.

2 rings.

3 rings.

No response.

4 rings.

5 rings.

Alistair Howell Jensen you better pick up that fucking phone right now.

Or I will personally search the entire world, no, universe, looking for you.

6 rings.

7 rings.

Please leave your message, for-

I aggressively pushed the end button and threw my phone onto the bed. It bounced back onto the floor and I groaned in frustration.

I called him 6 other times. No reply.

That's it. It's time for me to take matters into my own hands.

At first, I was just going to drive to all his favorite places and his workplace, but just as I was about to grab my keys, a strange slip of paper that I haven't noticed before caught my eye.

75 Maple Road, Apt 7B, 14990
Be there soon.

Whose address was this? What was it doing in Alistair's hands? What was he planning?

Is he cheating on me?

I entered the address into google, but apparently it was formerly the site of an abandoned hotel. I instinctively brought a finger to my mouth and started to bite my nails.

The only way I could figure out what was behind this shady address and Alistair's mysterious disappearance was to go to the place myself.

When I get my hands on you, Alistair, you are so fucking dead.

I grabbed my keys and ran out that door.

•••

I didn't even care that the drive was going to take 2 hours. I didn't even care that I was going a 60 in a 30. I needed to find Alistair, and if he was fucking some prostitute in an abandoned hotel room, oh boy, was he going to get it.

As I neared closer to the location, I noticed the drab and dilapidated surroundings through the window. Plastic bags and soda cans littered the cracked, weathered sidewalks. The whole road was abandoned, deserted of any sign of life. Houses were falling apart, trees were dying, the whole town just left to die.

And I was pretty sure I saw a dried puddle of blood a few meters back.

71, 73, 75.

There were no other cars in sight, except for a small, inconspicuous black sedan. I was in such a rush to get inside, I just left the car where it was and left the door open.

Every step I took was laced with anger. My heart beat a million miles a second, and my mind filled with anxious thoughts. The closer I got to the door, the more the fury boiled up inside of me until I literally kicked the door open and ran up the stairs to apartment 7B, the number still burned fresh into my mind.