In Another World

CHAPTER 7

Province 7 ; Austrium

My Head, Solar System #19

It's fully night outside now. Dove is asleep on my shoulder, and I'm trusting Trent to lead us to a hotel that's right on the outskirts of the city. He says he's acquaintances with the hotel manager and that we could stay for free.

I think we've already walked maybe 10 miles, and it's 9 PM according to Trent's watch. He says the hotel is the only one that he trusts, and we've passed by at least 6 by now. We could've saved our legs from this much walking.

My ranking hasn't come in to me yet.

I don't think I've ever felt this tired or nervous in my entire life. Not even after that stupid marathon I did my freshman year. I had to run more than 60 miles. It took me more than seven hours.

The street we're on is a quiet one. It's more suburban than urban. There's a couple neighborhoods, grocery store, and gas station.

"Here we are," Trent announces after hours of silence and a couple more minutes of walking. The hotel is just a 21st century house, suitable but not sketchy. Trent walks inside and I follow. My legs are going to give out any second now.

He checks in the three of us and the front desk old lady signals us upstairs. In our room, I drop the girl on one of the beds and collapse right next to her. My eyes already are closing. So much for work to do.

I'm exhausted, but I can't fall asleep. My anxiety for the ranking is still racing. I sit up in bed. Trent is making coffee. I ask him to make me one too.

I go to the bathroom and wash my face. I then scour the whole room, looking for any sign of my ranking. Under pillows, in drawers, behind the TV. Absolutely nothing.

Trent hands me my coffee.

"What are you looking for?" He asks.

"It doesn't matter," I grumble. I sound more sleepy and grouchy than I thought I was.

I flop onto a bed again, giving a heavy sigh. I take a sip of my coffee, but the rough tastes makes me spit it out immediately.

"Whoa! Geez, I didn't know I was that bad at making coffee," Trent jokes.

What is that taste? It's not even liquid! It's solid!

I stick my fingers and my mouth and find a piece of paper on my tongue. I pull the paper out and unscroll it. It's the size of an atom, but I can still read it; the number 88.

My ranking! I've made it! I don't show any sign of happiness, or Trent would ask me questions. I throw away the piece of paper, engraving the number in my mind.

"I didn't put a paper in your coffee."

"It's okay. You probably didn't mean to. Anyways, now we focus on the hitter."

I stand up and shake a little bit, more out of relief than anything. I take off my jacket, discarding the rope. I hold the gun in my hand, but I sit down at the desk and try to disassemble it. I start pulling at parts of the gun, turning some parts left and right. One piece comes out. I progress from there. Trent watches me from the bed he's sitting on.

"So, Trent. You really have no idea where the hitter is?" I look at him for an answer.

"No."

"If he's able to communicate with you, he can't be that far, right?"

"Anyone can communicate with anyone now. Space time compression."

"Do you think you can communicate with him right now?"

Trent hesitates. He glances at the hotel phone lying next to the TV.

"Do you have his phone number?"

"I don't. I lost my hearing communicator that linked me to his number during the shooting. But I have another person's number memorized. She works for the hitter as well. If I can talk to her and she can see his number from her communicator, we can call him and ask where he is. I can say that I've got you, and he'll want to meet me right away."

"What are you waiting for? Call that girl!" I whisper-shout at him.

"Okay. But I don't know if she's gonna give me his number that easily. She may ask for a price."

"Like what?"

"Guess we'll find out soon enough," Trent replies.

<<<>>>

Trent twirls the telephone cord around his finger, the phone dialing and on speaker. after a couple seconds, a small voice answers.

"Hello?" A girl says.

"Hey, Audrey. It's Trent," Trent answers. There's a pause for a few seconds at the other end of the line.

A couple seconds later, there's some muffling noises, and the girl shuffles to a different place.

"Hi."

Trent kind of blushes, rocking back and forth on his toes.

"I was wondering if you could help me out with something. Do you have your communicator for boss with you?"

"Of course."

"Well, I lost mine during the mission I was assigned. I need his number. Could you give it to me?"

Audrey pauses again.

"001-811-9006," she says. I write the entire number out on a hotel notepad and flash Trent a thumbs up.

"Would you happen to have come across a little girl named Dove?" Audrey asks before Trent can hang up. We both freeze. Dove is peacefully sleeping on her bed still. How does she know?

"You know I don't normally care about people, but this dear friend I've had since first grade lost her child, Dove, today. She's been asking many people if anybody's seen her. Have you?"

Trent's pale eyes flash to me. I wanted Dove to find her mother, and now she has. Why's it so hard to just say yes?

Trent answers Audrey before I can protest. He's thinking clearly, but I'm not. He tells her yes. She says that she will come pick up Dove in the city tomorrow wherever we drop her off. Trent tells her that Dove will be dropped off tomorrow at noon sharp in the market square Macy's. Audrey says she'll be there with Dove's mom and hangs up.

I didn't even realize that I disassembled the gun completely until now. The bullets tumble out, and all the pistol parts are on the table. My fidgety fingers tap and twist.

"What if she's lying?" I ask Trent, who's already dialing the hitter's number.

"Audrey's not like that," Trent replies simply. The phone plays a dial tone again. The hitter takes a longer time than Audrey to answer. The hitter. Why's he called the hitter? Why am I even supposed to kill him? What does that prove for my mission to Mars to escape Earth?

"Who is this?" An automated voice answers

"It's Trent, Boss. I've got the girl."

A lot of static comes from the other end for what seems like minutes.

"Bring her to me tomorrow night, alive and healthy. I'll be at the Hotel Emprium. Ask for Gareth. They'll let you come see me," the hitter instructs. There it is. There's my one path to Mars, all laid out for me. I just have to murder someone. I have to murder someone that has instructed people to murder others. But that doesn't change the fact I am still killing him/her.

I spend almost all night reassembling the pistol. Trent spends almost all night watching me.