Chapter 3

The sun chased Jesse down the north west road. Jesse's fingers clenched the steering wheel of his new 2011 Chevy Monte Carlo. So, Walter White was dead. Jesse could barely comprehend that information. His Chemistry teacher, whom he had known for years at his high school, and then almost two years as a meth-crazed maniac, was finally dead. Yet, no matter what, dead or alive, Jesse still believed that Heisenberg was out there, in some shape or form. That image of his intelligent blue eyes behind thick lens, eyes that looked at him with both respect and disdain, haunted Jesse.

Jesse drove all through the night, counting on Red Bull and Funyuns to keep him awake. Once the dawn broke through the horizon, Jesse was on the edge of Washington State. He pulled to the side of the road and slept for only a few hours before beginning his trek again. Around noon, Jesse arrived at a sleepy beach on the Pacific Ocean on the edge of Washington. He exited the car and headed for a run-down diner with a nice view of the ocean. He ordered steak and potatoes, and considered his options as the waves swelled and broke on the brown sand. Jesse could either risk going to Alaska by crossing the Canadian border, or take a long ferry ride straight across the Pacific. The later option seemed best. He was a wanted man now, surely his face would be plastered all over the news. He was glad that this diner didn't have a television, let alone a signal. The waitress there didn't seem to recognize him. In fact - she was hitting on him. Jesse rolled his eyes when she bent down particularly low to pick up his empty plate.

"Hey, do you have, like, a map or something?" Jesse asked the waitress.

"Sure, honey, be right back." She winked at him, and sashayed her hips on her way to a nearby counter. Jesse scoffed at her poor attempt to seduce him. The waitress returned and handed him a decade-old map with curled up corners and coffee stains.

"So where you headed to?" The waitress bend down over his shoulder to look at the map. Jesse turned to Alaska's page and furrowed his brows as he contemplated. Alaska was a vast state. He didn't want to move to a big city. He couldn't handle all the people. The fear of being watched by one of the many faces in the background. Jesse closed his eyes, and pointed to a random place on the map. When his lids opened, his eyes focused on the small italics print. Badger Hill. Jesse had to hold back a chuckle. He would subconsciously pick something that had to do with Badger, of all people…

"Badger Hill?" The waitress inquired, leaning over farther. "You're headed to that dinky little port town? What good is Badger Hill to you?"

"I'm getting a fresh start," Jesse said blatantly, mostly to himself. Then he glanced up at waitress. "Check please."

The waitress nodded glumly and handed him the bill. He paid with the cash, of course, and gave her a hefty tip just because she had a great ass. Jesse tore the page out of the map and stuffed it into his coat pocket. He left the diner and entered his car. He drove fast, speeding with a new purpose. Jesse followed road signs to ferry, where he paid two hundred dollars for a straight and narrow ride across the Pacific to the port of Badger Hill.

The ferry ride passed without much discord. When Jesse's feet first landed on Badger Hill's creaky dock, he breathed in the fresh Alaskan air deeply into his lungs. The new oxygen revitalized him. He almost felt like a new being. Yes, this would be perfect. A dinky little town in the middle of nowhere would suit him just fine. When he spotted a gas station directly across the dock, he mosied over there to purchase a pack of cigarettes while the ferry workers unloaded his car. He hadn't had one since being imprisoned, and his craving was high.

Jesse puffed on his first cigarette in months while his Monte Carlo was deposited onto a nearby road.

"Thanks man," Jesse handed the each of the workers a fifty. Back in his prime, when Jesse was making millions, he would have given them both five thousand. But now, money was a little tight. Jesse needed it to buy a house and begin his new life. Which reminded him of his next step. House hunting. The day had just begun, with the sun barely peeking a hands width over the horizon. The soft yellow rays beautifully encompassed the pungent pine trees and silver ocean guarding the coastline. Jesse deftly lit another cigarette as he entered his Monte Carlo and revved the engine. He felt new and empowered. All of his past demons were now behind him.

As Jesse drove through the streets of Badger Hill, he realized that the town was actually quaint and lively. The townspeople were composed mostly of indigenous Alaskan descent, with a few Irish redheads and the occasional European immigrant descendant roaming the streets. Small shops sprinkled the streets. Almost all of them were owned by one name: O'Keefe. O'Keefe's Grocery, O'Keefe's pharmaceuticals, O'Keefe's flower parlor, and so on. Jesse scoffed at the monopoly here. Whoever owned these shops probably owned half the town itself. The town of Badger Hill was quite empty of vehicles. The townspeople only walked, but when they couldn't, they biked. Driving around town caused Jesse to feel quite strange. Jesse found a small parking lot with nothing but an old Chevy occupying a parking space. He parked his car in the spot next to the Chevy, pulled his keys out of the ignition, and stepped out. Before Jesse moved any further, he examined the small town of Badger Hill. Everyone had a smile on their face. Everyone greeted anyone who walked by and exchanged laughs, compliments and the same stories passed down through generations. Everyone knew everyone. It was safe. It was perfect. It was home. Jesse looked down at his keys dangling in his hand, and turned around putting the keys on top of the visor in his car. Nobody around here would steal it, that he was for certain. Now, it was the townspeople's car. Just the thought made Jesse finally feel at home.

He walked down the asphalt street, eying the various buildings, most of which were owned by O'Keefe. Jane's favorite artist. Every beautiful italic letter was like a stab in the chest. People passed by him, curiousness etched onto their faces. He was the new kid in town. Fuck, people were going to stare. Shit. Jesse hoped that none of them had watched the news recently and seen his mugshot. Then again, his face had new scars, new clothes, his hair was longer, and his eyes were different. Heavier, full of a certain knowledge that no happy person would care to possess. When one particular individual eyed him longer than necessary, Jesse suddenly became nervous and ducked into the first building he saw. He opened the door quickly and entered, a small tingling bell signaling his arrival. Jesse scanned the room as he tried to lower his breathing back to a regular pace. There were books everywhere - stacks upon stacks of them lined the walls and floor. Shelves choked every corner, filled with books both old and new. Their spines were like dull jewels glaring up at him. They seemed to be thrown every this way and that - haphazard. When Jesse moved in farther, the smell of old paper graced his nostrils. It was comforting. He absentmindedly trailed his fingertips across the spines of the multitudes of literature as he headed farther into the center. Jesse was starting to zone out, his eyes unfocused, as he walked. The floor suddenly creaked in front of him. Another person was here. He snapped back to reality, and his eyes focused on the most glorious ass he had ever seen. It looked just like Jane's. Not too big, but perfectly perky, with a nice gap between her legs to accentuate the curves of her thighs. Jesse gulped. Had she come back from the grave to haunt him with the memory of her beautiful body?

The ass he was staring at swiveled abruptly. He was still staring at her body- now a flat abdomen and supple shins and-

"Can I help you?" A smooth female voice asked.

Oh shit.

"I-uh," He was still staring at her legs, dammit.

"Excuse me?"

Jesse's eyes finally shot up to the woman's face, and he was taken aback even more. She was Jane reincarnate, with clear porcelain skin, full lips, and large eyes. But her hair was bright blonde, the type that you couldn't tell was natural or dyed, and her eyes were a piercing shade of blue, not hazel.

"Sorry," Jesse stammered. "You just, uh, remind me of someone I knew."

"Oh yeah?" She cocked her hips to the side. "Who?"

"It doesn't matter," Jesse awkwardly scratched the back of his head and tried to look everywhere but at her face. His heart beat fast, trying to recover from stopping earlier at the sight of her. "I, uh, I better go…"

Jesse's feet started to move He wanted to bolt out of there as fast as he could, without question. But, the woman took a few steps closer to him, stopping Jesse in his tracks. "I haven't seen you around before," one of her eyebrows rose with questioning. "You just come into town?"

"Yeah," Jesse spoke carefully. Her tone was slightly apprehensive. She probably wasn't grateful for his eyes ogling her just moments before like some pervert. "I just moved here. Looking for a place to stay, actually…"

"So, naturally, you come to the nearest bookstore for real estate options?"

"No, it's uh, it's like…"

The woman rolled her eyes at him. "Luckily for you, I actually know a place that's available for rent. It's an apartment above an old store of my family's, just a few blocks down. Interested?"

"Totally." Jesse's eyes opened wide with surprise. He just got caught staring at this woman's lovely body and now she's offering him a place to stay? Badger Hill seemed like heaven on earth.

"Nobody has rented the place since last year. My mother would love to have somebody to add some life to the space… If you take it, then maybe I can forgive you for staring at my ass."

All the blood drained from Jesse's face. "Sorry, you just, like-"

"Remind you of someone?" She smiled and gave him a wink, causing Jesse to blush. "It's whatever. Want to see the apartment?"

"Yeah," Jesse nodded. "What's your name?"

"Clare. And you?"

"Je-Uh… Andrew. Andrew Clarke."

Andrew. Andrew fucking Clarke? What the fuck? Like seriously, Andrew Clarke? The name jumped around Jesse's head like a beachball at a Nickelback concert. Jesse reminisced on a documentary he watched on the shitty TV back at that hotel outside of Albuquerque. It was about some popular Australian actor, Andrew Clarke. Thank God that TV worked, or else Jesse knew he would have said his name was Muhammad or something.

"Nice to meet you, Andrew." Clare smiled while lifting her hand to shake his.

"Nice to meet you too, Clare." Jesse grabbed her hand and shook it softly.

"I can't close up shop for a few more hours, but you're welcome to stay and chat until then…?"

Jesse knew from her tone that it was more of a demand than an invitation.

"Yeah...I'd love to."

Jesse and Clare talked for a few hours while he watched her close. He could see bits of Jane in every move. Jesse instantly became obsessed with the small things about her. Her hands were baby soft, with fingers that intertwined like twigs when she wrung her hands. Her lips brightened into a lighter color of pink when she smiled. Her teeth were perfect rows of soft white. Her eyes radiated, ice cold, but not in a bad way. She had an aura of elegance and grace, with a glow of mischief that made him want to break all the rules with this girl. Jesse would try anything just to make her laugh. The harmonious sounds that came from her body was like a beautiful song that only played when Jesse executed a punchline. But, of course, her laugh turned him on like an 8th grader that got a hold on his father's porno mags.

People came and went with the twinkling of a bell. Some bought books, others checked them out with a library card. Clare stood behind the counter and helped her customers while Jesse wandered the bookshelves, trying to blend in. Being noticed as Jesse Pinkman and not Andrew fucking Clarke would mean the end of his life as a free man. After just barely escaping Uncle Jack's prison, Jesse could not imagine a fate worse than imprisonment. Even death.

"Andrew?" Clare peered over a corner to find Jesse sitting down on a footstool, silently reading (or at least trying to read) a book of poems by Sylvia Plath.

Jesse shut the book quickly and looked up at Clare. "Hey."

Clare scoffed at him but could not suppress a small laugh. "Hey yourself. Thanks for waiting."

"Sure. No problem, really." Jesse rose and cringed as he knees popped. How long had he been sitting there? He glanced up at a clock on the wall. It was five in the afternoon.

"Cool. Let the apartment renting begin, yeah?" Clare smiled and threw on a long black coat and white knit mittens. Jesse followed her out, zipping up his coat in the process. He watched her lock up the shop and then turned to follow her as she strode down the road in tall combat boots. Light snow crunched under their feet, a rhythm that calmed Jesse as he walked alongside Clare.

"So, Andrew, where are you from?"

"California," Jesse lied, trailing his eyes on his boots, scattering the snow, leaving streaks like blood on the sidewalk.

"California, wow," Clare tucked a strand of hair behind her ear absentmindedly. "What brings you to little 'ol Badger Hill?"

"Needed some fresh air."

Clare laughed, a clear ringing sound that caused Jesse's lips to curl up at the edges. She stopped then, in front a small building that was a part of a development of conjoined stores, three stories high. The first level was old and abandoned. The front needed a lot of work, but Jesse could still make out the letters on the sign above the door: O'Keefe Repairs.

"Jesus, does this O'Keefe person own everything?" Jesse remarked as Clare walked up to the door. She unlocked it with her set of keys.

"Yeah, pretty much. O'Keefe practically made Badger Hill what it is today. Still not much, but much better than it was." Clare beckoned him inside. "But he's kind of fun on Christmas when he's gotten drunk on freaking eggnog."

"Wait, what?" Jesse furrowed his brows.

"Kent O'Keefe is my father," Clare walked across the room to a door located in the back. "This leads to the next two floors, all of which will be your apartment. If you choose to take it, of course."

"Wait, this O'Keefe dude is your dad? The guy that runs the whole town?"

Clare opened the door, urging Jesse on by waving him over. "Yeah, everybody here knows that. But you're new. It feels weird telling you. Anyway, the place has running water, shower, a decent bathtub, and a pretty good sized mattress in the bedroom. Queen, I think. Appliances in the kitchen are fairly new. Everything is a bit dusty though so it's gonna need some lovin' to get back into shape…"

Clare continued walking and talking. Jesse followed her, but he couldn't get the thought of Clare's father out of his mind. It was enough to be a wanted man, with pictures of his face all over the news, but now he's got himself mixed up with the owner of the goddamn town! Jesse looked over at Clare.

But damn, she had a great ass.

O'Keefe's daughter showed him the rest of the apartment. At the top of the stairs of the second floor, there was a front door made of solid pine. It opened into a decent sized foyer, which expanded into the living room and kitchen. A second set of stairs led to the bedroom, which had three big windows facing the street. Jesse peered out, watching the residents of Badger Hill stroll by without a care in the world. It really was a decent apartment.

"So?" Clare cocked her hip to the side. "You like?"

Jesse looked her up and down, smiling a bit at the double entendre he was about to commit. "Yeah, I really do. I'll take it."

"Awesome. I'll have my mom fill out all the papers and shit for you tomorrow. It's just three hundred a month, all amenities are included. Will you pay with debit or credit?"

"Cash, actually, if that's okay."

"You sure, Andrew?" Clare asked, puzzled.

"Oh yeah," Jesse gazed out of the window once more. Across the street, other shops bustled with activity, and more apartments were seated on top of them. Very quaint. Beyond that, Jesse could spot millions of dark pine trees. He could practically smell the sap from here. Farther back from the pines there lied soaring mountains, no doubt teaming with beautiful flora and fauna. Jesse finally felt at home.

"I'm sure."