Red Desert Sunset

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Chapter two – Heat

Lisbon pulled the car up to the side of the road and switched it off. It was getting dark, and there was a stunning golden sun hanging low on the horizon. The three agents climbed out of the SUV and strode over to Jane's abandoned car. There were two officers sitting in their squad car waiting for the agents.

As the agents got close, the officers got out of their own car and headed towards them. "You guys here for the car?"

Lisbon nodded and pulled out her badge. She showed it to the officers. "When did you guys find it?"

The officer pulled out his notepad. "We came across it at thirteen hundred hours. Called it in. it took a while to verify the registration. As soon as the verification came through, we called you."

Lisbon looked at her watch. It had been a two and a half hour drive at cruising speed from the office, and the car had been found at one in the afternoon. So Jane had to have left sometime during the morning. He had been in the office the night before, so he hadn't been missing long.

Cho walked over to the car, and tried the handle. The driver's door opened, and a blast of hot air exited the vehicle. "Boss," said Cho, pulling a tissue from his pocket. "Look at this."

Lisbon headed over to where Cho stood. He reached into the car and pulled out Jane's suit jacket. He went into the pockets and pulled out a melted sweet, and then Jane's identification card. Lisbon frowned. This was very unlike Jane to leave his jacket anywhere. She went into the car, and pulled out a bottle of water. It was almost empty. The keys to the car were still in the ignition. Lisbon stepped back. "Jane would never leave the keys in the ignition unless it was just a quick stop."

Van Pelt looked around in the dusk air. "Where the hell is he?"

Cho looked towards the sunset. "There is a hut over there. Maybe that was where he went."

The team headed in the direction of the hut, with the two officers wordlessly behind them. The three agents automatically drew their guns and Cho pushed the door open. There was a waft of musty air that blew past the agents as they stealthily and professionally began to scope the hut. The first two rooms held nothing – as for Jane – but Van Pelt entered the third room and stopped. "In here," she called.

Her colleagues and the two officers converged on her and they all examined the object spread out on the floorboard. It was a grey vest from a three piece suit. It was buttoned and spread out on the floor, almost like someone was waiting to wear it. Lisbon turned around and gasped. The rest of the people turned and all saw the dark smiley on the wall. It was large, and smeared carelessly, as though dreadfully unpracticed.

Cho looked at Van Pelt. "I think we know why Jane was here."

Lisbon looked pensively towards the west facing window at the cherry sun. "But where the hell is he now?"

XxxxxxxxxxxX

The first awareness was pain. A sharp pain on the right side of the head. Followed by a dull throb. The next sensation was temperature; it was a lot cooler than what he had expected. Textures against his skin, grains of sand, a rough rock. Soon, sound filtered through the fuzziness. The shuffle of sand, the hum of wind around the rocks, and the sound of breathing. Finally, sight began to return, slowly. Jane sat up slowly, fighting the dull ache in his head.

He looked around, not where he had expected to be. The last thing he remembered was the hut, and the dark smiley. But now there was no hut. The air was an odd colour, and Jane felt disorientated by it. It was supposed to be blue, not red. He staggered to his feet and looked around. He was below a large outcrop of rock, and had been laid against the base. He lurched forwards and out into the dying light. There was nothing around him.

No shrubbery, no animals, no water. Nothing. Jane looked up at the rock outcrop. It was the only landmark for miles. The last of the fuzziness began to leave his head. "You're in a pickle now, Patrick," he murmured to himself.

Jane had no idea where he was. He looked down. His vest was gone. He wore just his simple blue shirt and suit pants. He dug around in his pockets for his monogrammed handkerchief, and came up with just a folded slip of paper. His pockets had been emptied of everything else. And with his vest gone, he had little protection against the icy air that was coming.

Jane opened the folded slip. He felt his face go pale as he read it.
"Patrick," it read,
"you walked right into my trap. Not so smart, are you? Good luck, you're going to need it.
RJ."

Jane put the slip back into his pocket. The first order of business was finding out where the hell he was, and what direction he needed to travel. That he would plan in the next day, because it was too dark to do much else at this point in time. He turned and headed back to where he had woken up. That was when he noticed the dark patch in the sand.

He put his hand onto it. It was still a little warm, and sticky. He then touched the side of his own head. It came away covered in flecks of dried blood. The hit to the side of his head had knocked him out cold, and split the skin on his temple. The blood had congealed on the side of his face, leaving him looking a little bit like a horror movie character.

Jane knew that he had been left to die in the desert for a reason. Red John would have only used that as a last resort. Jane knew he was getting close to finding him. There was something in that hut that Jane wasn't supposed to know about, and he was determined to find out what, even if it killed him.

He dug himself a divot in the sand, and cuddled down into it. It was going to be a long, cold night.

The sun woke Jane early. He sat up, and shook the sand from his shirt. He was grateful for the relative warmth of the sun, because his night had been cold and fitful. He examined the rocky outcrop closely. If he could get to the top, he would be able to see his way out of there. He found a place that didn't look too crumbly or steep, and began a slow crawl up the rock face.

Soon, he was near the top, and felt his arms getting tired. He pushed through the pain and finally sat panting at the top of the rock. It was only about twenty feet off of the ground, but high enough to give Jane that little lurch of fear whenever he looked down. He stood precariously and turned all the way around. He had been laid on the eastern side of the rock, and the desert out to the west looked desolate and foreboding.

To the east, there was some sparse shrubbery, and what looked like a road far in the distance. Jane could clearly see the tarmac. But he couldn't tell how far away it was, or how long he would need to travel. It was too late in the day to start, and he decided to travel at night to avoid the searing heat. He spent the next half hour crawling precariously down the rock face, and stumbled the last few feet straight onto his face in the sand. He pushed himself up onto his knees and spat out a mouthful of crusty sand.

He crawled back into the shade and unbuttoned his shirt. He had no water, so he was conserving his energy as much as possible. The day got hotter and hotter, and Jane didn't know how long he would survive. He just knew that he needed to get back to where he belonged, CBI and aircon, before he ended up as another set of sun-bleached bones in the desolate wasteland he now called home.

A/N2: Thank you for reading. Please leave me a review and let me know how I'm doing. Thank you and much appreciated.