One out of five one-shot ideas used… I came up with five ideas yesterday, and here's the first one on my list! I don't own The 39 Clues. Setting is in Manila (let's say he was there on a business trip). Anyway enjoy!
Ian Kabra never thought that someone would have the nerve to hang up on him.
But probably one person was strong enough: Amy Cahill.
Around thirty minutes ago, he decided that he would apologize to her. So he took his phone, dialed her cell phone number, and waited.
~flashback~
"Hello?" a pleasant voice said.
"Amy? Is that you?" Ian asked.
"Yeah," she replied. "What do you want, Ian?"
"I just wanted to talk," he said.
"Then talk," she sighed.
He took a deep breath. Ian was never this nervous in his entire life. "Amy, I'm sorry," he blurted.
There was a pause before Amy hung up on him.
~end of flashback~
Ian stood and picked up his cell phone again. He typed in a quick message to his sister Natalie, who was off shopping in Prada again: Nat, I'm going out.
Then he took his car keys from his bedside table, grabbed a coat, and went out.
Ian pushed open the door of the bar—Giraffe Bar in Makati Shangri-La. He looked around and sighed. There weren't much people in here, so it was okay.
He sat on a stool and told the bartender what he wanted. The bartender gave him a shot of scotch with a big smile. Ian frowned. This was just like the time he and Natalie were eating breakfast before their mother's trial for murder. And he noticed that smiling was a common thing in the Philippines. The flight attendants. His Filipino driver. When Ian asked about the excessive smiling, his driver simply laughed. "One of our famous traits is hospitality and cheerfulness," he had said.
Ian remembered the places his driver had pointed out—famous landmarks in Manila. "There's Rizal Park. And there's the Manila Post Office. That's the National Museum," his driver said with a grin.
A weird thought had occurred to Ian: Amy would like that.
He pushed the thought away and gazed at a walled structure. "What's that?" he inquired.
His driver chuckled. "That is Intramuros. There is a city inside, so it's called the Walled City."
Ian wondered if Filipino Ekaterinas designed/built it.
"Okay, sir, we're here," his driver announced.
But I won't be able to see those places anymore, Ian thought as he took his fifth shot of scotch.
After paying, he left the bar and clumsily inserted his keys into the ignition of his car. Then he turned on the air conditioning unit and aimed one vent on him.
He thought about calling his sister, but he shook his head. She might yell at me again for interrupting her shopping, he thought with a sigh. Rather not.
Ian went faster. The speedometer went up to ninety. His head spun as the meter rose to one hundred twenty.
And suddenly—boom!
It was too late to realize that he had run into a big truck. His car spun, tires screeching across the street and sending him crashing into a wall.
The windshield shattered. Pieces of glass showered him like rain.
He managed to open his eyes with a tremendous effort. There were moths buzzing around the streetlamps, but no one was rushing to help him. Maybe in a couple of hours… but by then it would be too late.
Ian closed his eyes.
Natalie dialed her brother's number for the fifth time. "Come on, Ian," she muttered. When she heard the pre-recorded message, she snapped her phone shut in frustration and worry. What had Ian gotten himself into now?
She called Amy, who picked up immediately. "Natalie? What's wrong?"
"Is Ian there?" she asked frantically.
"No, he isn't. Why?" Amy inquired.
"Oh, no," Natalie whispered, the phone slipping from her hands as she figured out what happened.
"Natalie? Natalie!" Amy exclaimed. "Hello?"
Natalie picked up her phone with shaky hands. "Can you meet me at Giraffe Bar in Makati Shangri-La?"
"Sure," she said. "I'll bring Dan with me."
"Please hurry," Natalie said quickly as she hung up. She took a deep breath and exhaled. What did you do now, Ian?
"Natalie!" Amy waved. "We're here!"
Natalie sighed with relief as she exited her car (with a mountain of shopping bags at the shotgun and backseat). "Thank goodness you're here," she said, hugging Dan and Amy.
"Why did you call us?" Dan said with a yawn. "I was sleeping."
"Ian texted me hours ago, but I didn't hear my phone ring because it was on silent. He said that he was going out, and he usually comes here," Natalie explained.
"Giraffe Bar?" Amy said. "Oh. Okay. I think we can ask."
The three of them entered the bar and Natalie went straight up to the bartender. "Did you have a customer here named Ian Kabra?" she demanded.
"Yes, ma'am," the bartender replied. "He left two hours ago."
"What did he get?" she asked.
"Five shots of scotch," he answered quickly.
"Did you see which direction he drove off?"
The bartender nodded and gestured to the right. "I'm sure he went to the right. I saw his car."
"Thank you," Natalie said, turning towards Amy and Dan. "Something's happened to Ian."
Natalie insisted that Amy and Dan leave their car in the parking lot, compelling the two to ride with her. "We'll have to make this quick. It's two in the morning," Natalie said with a yawn.
They drove off in silence before Amy asked, "Can we open the radio?"
"Sure," Natalie said, avoiding a speeding car.
The station was set to a news station. "There was an accident earlier this morning. A black car ran into a truck and had crashed into a wall. The driver's body is still unidentified." After that, the newscaster mentioned the location of the accident.
Natalie headed in that direction, eyes intent on the road and sparkling with tears.
"Oh, no," Natalie sobbed. She pushed through the crowd and saw her brother's unconscious body lying on the ground, surrounded by a smaller crowd. One was checking for a pulse, but he shook his head and stepped away.
That only meant one thing: Ian was dead.
Amy clapped a hand over her mouth. Dan blinked a few times and went over to comfort Natalie, who was kneeling on the ground beside Ian's body. Some of the people looked curiously at Natalie, but when they realized she was the victim's brother, they moved far back. Amy kneeled down next to her friend and let her tears stream freely down her cheeks.
"Do… do you know him?" a curious bystander asked.
"I'm his sister," Natalie said hoarsely. "Can you tell me what happened? Did any of you see?"
"I did," a gruff voice said. "I am the driver of the truck he ran into. He was driving so fast, maybe a hundred or more. He must've been lasing—I mean, drunk—because he acted like he didn't see me coming."
Natalie held back a scream. Instead she tensed. Dan felt this and hugged her close, letting her cry freely.
Amy heard a little voice whispering at the back of her mind: Remember, you hung up on him. What do you think that meant?
And she instantly wished she could go back in time, back in time when Ian had called her, so she could accept his apology and they could start over again.
But it was too late. Her would-be friend had gotten drunk and committed suicide by crashing into a truck and a wall. She would never get the chance again.
I'm so sorry... I made this story part drama (crying part) and mostly tragedy. I'll admit that I'm not that good in tragedy, though I did try my best.
Please review. Reviews make me smile!