Well, it's been a while, hasn't it. I'm not going to even try to make excuses. Just know I have been crazy busy doing shenanigans. Sooo...yeah.
It's a pretty short chapter. And filler. And next week I'm updating on Thursday; my family's going to the beach for Memorial Day, so I don't know if I'll have access to a computer Friday. But there will be an update, promise.
Disclaimer: Guess what's not mine? That's right, the Beatles
For the first time in what feels like forever, I fall into a deep, dark, dreamless sleep. It almost feels good, having my body just shut down like this. After all the insanity of the past few days, I just want to stay in the dark forever.
Reality, however, has other plans.
It takes me awhile to drag my lazy carcass out of bed, but once I'm up, it doesn't take much time for me to take a leave of absence from work, pack a bag of essentials and get a plane ticket to Manhattan. Joe is the member I'm closest to; the fact that he's a big, strong guy doesn't hurt, though.
I call a cabbie and tell him to head for the airport. As we drive, I stare out the window in silence, thinking about something Lucy said. There were people there out to get me. Hell, they may even be here. And she was right; not all the Beatle characters were good.
"Hey, this isn't the right way," I lean over to tell the cabbie as I realize we're in an unfamiliar neighborhood on the wrong side of town. It's as I'm leaning forward that I see the silver hammer glittering in the passenger's seat.
He sees my eyes widen and smiles a slow, chilling smile that sends goosebumps up my spine and makes every fiber of my body want to run like hell.
"Maxwell, I presume," I whisper. He nods once and pulls the car over, reaching down to pick up the hammer as he opens his door. I take the opportunity to grab my bag, rip the door open and sprint off as fast as I could.
Unfortunately, however, I never was really an athletic individual. He catches up effortlessly and grabs my arm, raising the hammer over his head. Then I make use of the one thing my mother really drilled in me when I was small; if a guy is threatening you, kick 'em where it hurts.
I can say this much; the odds of Maxwell fathering children just went down significantly.
He releases my arm as he doubles over in pain, so I run some more, not stopping until I get to the airport.
I'm incredibly jumpy as I go through security but make it to my plane without a hitch. From here, I sit in my chair and stare out the window, body tense for the whole flight. After Maxwell, my brain is racing to think of all the other bad guys from the Beatles. The number that pops up in my head scares me, to be honest. This plane can't land in New York soon enough.
Yeah...it's bloody short. Well, with that, I'm off! It's good to be back. Reviewers get interweb-glompz!