Whew! wow itz taken me forever to get another chap up on thisun. but im gonna try and finish it very soon. hope u enjoy it, sry its so short! love-nik
Gila welcomed Michael Scofield with different circumstances than he had met with on his last visit. Driving carefully past the Sundown Hotel, he turned his head away upon seeing the cop cars that populated the parking lot.
He guessed the obvious: Sara would not risk staying a day longer in this place. So, he opted to continue down the road, getting out of Gila immediately. He would check any motels in Cliff, a town not five miles away, and then head northwest.
Worry filled his thoughts, taking his focus off the road.
Sara had become a major priority over his "grand plan".
He was certain the delay was frustrating to everyone, but he knew his brother understood. He knew that if he'd had the chance, Lincoln would have saved Veronica. He had mourned the loss of their friend. Vee had been a part of their lives for longer than he could remember.
And Linc had loved her just as long.
He'd never forgive himself if Sara met the same fate…
Shaking fingers brushed the cold metal of the gun at his side. When the car began to jerk, Michael realized the tires scraping ever-so-slightly off the pavement, and he regained control before hitting a ditch.
Placing both hands firmly on the wheel, he shook his head of cobwebs and drove into the town of Cliff.
Sara's flesh stung at the entrance of the knife's point into her cheek. Paul, as he called himself, was taking extra care not to penetrate the skin deeply, but enough to make it hurt like hell.
His eyes were now very different from those of "Lance the addict".
They were ablaze with frustration and anger, and his voice was soaked with impatience when he spoke.
"Sara, I will not ask you again, TELL ME where they are. If I screw up again, it's all over for me. And I'm sorry, but MY life is more important to me than yours, or Michael's, or Lincoln's. And since your life is such, I will have no problem dispatching you if I have to."
The words seeped from his lips with desperation and malice.
And all Sara could do was smirk at him.
"You're one hell of a liar, you know that? I won't tell you anything, because, for the LAST TIME, I don't know. And don't give me that crap about killing me. I'm no good to you dead." she regretted the words the moment they flew out.
In a blur the knife scraped across the burn on her thigh, slicing into it and furthering the intense agony that her left leg was already in.
His free hand wrapped itself around her throat, and Sara knew she had sealed her fate.
A sign reading "Welcome to Buckhorn" met Michael's view after an unsuccessful search through the nothingness of Cliff.
Two lone motels stood across from each other.
And there, in the parking lot of the one to his right, sat Sara's rental car. Donning a cap and his horrid grandpa-sunglasses, Michael parked the car, opened the door, and walked with a predatory determination up to the desk.
The little old man that sat behind the counter squinted up at him.
"What can I do for you?"
Michael thanked God that the man seemed half-blind. Because there, on the small television behind the man's chair, was his mugshot.
He wasted no time in getting to the point.
"Yes sir, I 'm looking for someone. A woman, about ye high, dark red hair?"
A wrinkled hand raised to point to the stairwell.
"A woman like that came in last night, a young man too, looked around your age, all suited up like some lawyer or high-class fella."
Panic struck Michael's stomach at the elder's words.
"What room?"