The Psychic That Had A Brother

Rescue

Juliet’s POV:

In all the chaos, I forgot to call Gus. I decide to call, I’m not busy, we have nothing.

“Juliet?” Gus answers, obviously just got up.

“It’s about Shawn,” I start.

“What? Where is he? What’s wrong?” he shouts over the phone.

“The man, Joseph York, he has him-”

“Where?” Gus interrupts.

“We don’t know. He’s been gone for over twelve hours, along with Derek. The man has him too-”

“So you have nothing?” his voice cracks.

“No,” I sigh. He then hangs up, I don’t blame him. I then go to the meeting room where the chief, Lassiter, Claire, and Mrs. York are. We try to come up with logical places they could be.

“Was there anywhere he went to often?” I ask Mrs. York.

“Not really. Only the comic book and video game store, but it was tore down many years ago,” she replies.

“Friends’ houses?” the chief tries.

“Nope, he kept to himself.” We sit there is silence, frustrated. My phone suddenly rings. The chief tells me to answer it. My eyes light up when I see the caller, Shawn!

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hello?” I recognize the voice quickly.

“Derek? This is Juliet,” Everyone stares at me.

“Yes,” he answers me.

“Where’s Shawn?”

“He’s still there. He helped me escape through a hole in the wall, but it was too small for him,” He answers. My heart sinks. “He found his phone and wrote your number on an old piece of paper with a broken pencil he found.”

“Where are you?” I ask him.

“There is a donut shop, a Special K, a gas station, and a grocery store. The streets are called Hampton and Fifer. Shawn is in the factory on the corner,” he answers. They sound familiar. It’s near the end of Santa Barbara.

“Go to to the donut shop and wait for us,” I answer then hang up.

“The place we’re looking for is a factory on the corner of the streets Fifer and Hampton. It’s near a donut shop,” I tell the rest of them. We start that way, but it’s thirty minutes away.

 

Shawn’s POV:

I try to doze off, with no success. The door on the other end flies open. The man walks in, he stops dead in his tracks.

“Where is he?” he shouts, heading towards me.

“Not here,” I answer simply. He is standing right over me. He walks awa,y towards my chair, he grabs it and pulls some rope out of a bag. He ties me back in my chair. He grabs an extra rope and cuts it short, he then stands behind me and wraps the rope around my neck. I gulp for air and try to free my hands, he laughs at my failing attempts. Everything starts to go black, he suddenly pulls the rope away. I gasp for air.

“You really are an idiot,” he spits out at me. “You should have went too-”

“I couldn’t fit through the hole in the wall,” I answer. He looks for the hole and quickly finds it.

“How did you get out of your chair?” he asks.

“I just fell back in my chair and cut the ropes with the broken glass,” I reply. He wraps the rope around my neck again, this time I get closer to passing out before he lets me go. I take in gulps of air. He laughs like a maniac. He then gets a knife out of the bag, and grabs his trusty bat. He smiles at me.