Alright, I finally finished this chapter! YEAH! Took me a while to write most of it, and about an hour for the last couple paragraphs and spoken phrases (mostly to do the research I ending up doing to find out about Baretta guns). Plus, video games like HALFLIFE EPISODE ONE have been consuming my time... so it took a liitle bit to get back to writting. Too bad I got the cousins in the house again. This means I gotta watch the little girls (All five of them as of tommorrow), so there goes valuable writihng time.
Well, that just about excuses me from any problems you'll have. I just have one other statement to make. PLEASE REVIEW. I don't even care if I get an annonymous person that just writes "Hello", just review. I hate seeing that "0" in the stats bar. PLEASE!
Ok thats it. Enjoy.
I had been driving for several hours now, as I had been taking it easy on the engine. It was eleven fifteen now, and I still had a ways to go. I wasn't too far from Yuma, or at least, I didn't think I was.
Aya, finding the drive boring and my conversation a little dry, had decided to take the liberty of falling asleep in her seat. I couldn't help but take a couple of looks at her while she slept, as she was beautiful. Yet I wasn't mentally hitting on her, but rather reveling in her ease. I almost had this fatherly mind set when I looked over at her, feeling a sense of guardianship over her.
Returning my mind to the road, I came to a thought, which sank in quickly. I recalled what Jen had told me the night before when I was preparing a little for the trip.
'She said something about a hotel… maybe there's something in the folder she gave me.'
I had placed the folder on the chair behind Aya earlier, so I reached over and picked it up. Taking my eyes off of the road for quick moments, I managed to find a directions sheet that Jen had given me.
'Let's see, where's eight?... Ok, follow eight through Yuma, then get off at Los Angeles Avenue. Follow Old US-80 until you get to South Avenue. Hotel, food, and gas at corner. Hmm, that's easy, just gotta get off at LA ave.'
Yuma, an Arizona town by the Mexican border, seemed only to be around the corner. I soon came to the town, though I only saw glimpses of it. Seeing as I was still on Interstate 8, I continued past the town, making my way to Los Angeles Avenue. As I continued, the road shifted it height a little, and I could make out a number of buildings to the side of the road.
Soon I had passed Yuma, and had come across a turn off sign that said Fortuna Foothills. I ignored that turn off and another, and simply went on my way. The road led me to a large mountain range, expanding out of sight to the south. Interstate eight had been cut through one mountain, allowing transit to the other side. I quickly drove through, my mind a little worried for falling rocks.
At the other side of the mountain, I saw the turn off. Los Angeles Avenue. I took the turn, and then slowed down to the forty five speed limit. The road soon changed its title to Old US, which was probably what Jen had meant in the paper.
Maybe another minuet or two down the road, I came across a large motel sign, followed by the street sign. I slowed down, and upon examination of the sign, found that it was South Ave. Looking toward the motel, I found that it consisted of three buildings, a motel, a diner, and a gas station.
"Hmm. Must be it."
I pulled into the parking lot slowly, and then stop in a space before the motel. With ease, I shut the engine off, and then stretched in my chair, eager for some sunshine. After my hearty stretch, I opened the door and stepped into the ninety two degrees of heat. I closed the car door behind me, and then headed to the trunk to get my jacket.
With my jacket on, I headed to the nearby diner, hoping to get something to eat. The diner was nothing more then a building with a sign nearby that said "diner". On the door, there was a sign that read open so I pulled gently on the door.
"Strange," I said, as I continued to pull on the door. The door must have been locked on the inside, so I wouldn't be able to just pull it open. I knocked on the door, hoping to get someone to open the door. "Hello, is anyone there?"
Silence came from inside, so I concluded that there was no one inside. I didn't feel like paying for damages, so I decided not to break down the door and just went to the motel.
The motel had two levels, and the door was easy to get to, as I parked right in front of the door, just behind the cement sidewalk. I past the car, then pulled the door open and stepped inside.
"Hold it!" said a voice from inside.
Looking ahead of me, I found a middle aged woman behind the clerks counter, pointing a shotgun at me. I held my hands up, looking at the two barrels carefully.
"It's alright," I said calmly, looking the woman in the eye. "I'm FBI."
That was a lie, but she didn't know. Besides, I still carried my badge, just for situations like this.
"Horse shit. FBI wouldn't be here."
"No really, I am," I said, trying to convince her other wise.
"Then where's your badge?"
The woman was very demanding and aggressive, yet I didn't complain. She hadn't shot my head off, so I just had to pull my badge out of my jacket pocket. Carefully, I used my left hand to reveal my gun, and then with my right hand I slowly reached into my jacket, and pulled my badge out. I then let my jacket go, and then opened the badge so she could see it.
"Throw it here," she said, her aim unwavering.
Without a moments hesitation, I tossed it onto the counter, in it slid a little, stopping just in front of her. 'Good toss,' I thought to myself.
"Hmm."
As she read the badge, she began to lower the shotgun, easing her right arm. Catching on, I kept my hands up, but decided to ask a question.
"Can I lower my arms now?"
"Yeah go ahead."
Relieving my arms, I went to the counter hoping to get my badge back, and maybe a room for Aya and myself.
"So what are you doing here, Mr. Bale?"
"My partner and I are here to investigate some sightings reported here."
"You mean those monsters."
"Yeah."
"About time someone came!"
Suddenly, with a sigh of relieve, the woman sat down in a chair I hadn't noticed before. Resting the shotgun against the counter, she shook her head, and then began to speak again.
"I've been trying to get someone to look into this for two weeks now!"
"Sorry, ma'am. We get a lot of reports of sighting like this, and we have to investigate all of them."
"Well you're lucky I'm even here, because those monsters ran everyone else out of this heap of a town already."
"So I take it the others went to Yuma then?"
"Of course. I would've gone too, but I'm not leaving the motel just yet."
"But if there really are monsters here, you should have left as fast as possible. It could be dangerous with them around here."
"That's what this shotgun is for."
"Good point."
The woman tossed my badge onto the counter, as she was done reading it. I picked up my badge, and then tucked it back into my jacket.
"So you've been defending yourself here in the motel?"
"Yeah. I was hunting the bastards, but I'm running low on ammo, so I'm just shooting anything that tries to get inside."
"What kind do you use?"
"What, you have shotgun ammo?"
"Lots of it," I said calmly.
"Do you have double-ought?" she asked curiously.
"I've got that in the car. You want some?"
"You're kidding, right?"
"No, I'm not."
The woman's facial expression displayed her disbelief. I didn't figure she really trusted me yet, so I decided to give a peace offering. I headed outside, then opened the trunk of the suburban and began to search for the shotgun ammo.
'Let's see, it should have red tape on it.'
Sifting through the cases, I found one with red tape and quickly opened it. A rustic squeal came from the case, causing Aya to move a little in her sleep.
"Whoops," I said quietly.
Seeing the double-ought shells in the cases, I carefully shut the case, then closed the trunk and brought the cases with me into the motel. Taking a quick glance, I noticed the woman's ever-growing disbelief. I placed the cases on the counter, and then opened it up once more, allowing the shells some light.
"You look like your getting ready for a war, Mister Bale."
"I just like to be prepared. Go ahead and take some."
The woman wheeled her chair to the counter, and then with an awed expression, she quickly began to take some ammo. She then shotgun with two shells first, then began to tuck the shells into two boxes that she had folded in her pocket. I could have sworn I saw the greed emanating from her body, yet I figured that playing my cards right might help me out later.
After fulfilling her temporary need for ammunition, the woman relaxed into her chair, laying her gun across her lap. There was a strange smile on her face, almost like she was a kid from a candy store.
"So, I take it you and your partner want a room, right?"
"Yeah. I would like at least one, but two would be better."
"Huh? Why?" asked the woman curiously.
"Well, my partner's-"
"John, why didn't you wake me up," said Aya from the door.
"-A female," I said finishing my sentence.
I looked over at Aya, who at the moment had her jean jacket off, revealing her shoulder holster. She carried a Beretta 92 in her holster, which is pretty much a standard police pistol. I think my 1911's have the same kind of rep, but I don't care enough to do research on that.
"Huh?" Aya said, scratching at her neck just a little.
"Sorry Aya, did I wake you?"
"You did, but I've had enough sleep."
Aya then noticed the woman behind the counter, as well as the shotgun in her lap. I had a feeling that Aya wanted to draw her weapon, just to be on the safe side, but after years of things like this, she knew better. At least, I hoped she did.
"John, who is this?" she asked me.
"She's… uh… What's your name, ma'am?"
"I'm Amy Venuto, and I own this motel."
I bet someone is going "WHY DID I READ THIS CHAPTER! WHY DID THE AUTHOR WRITE IT! WHY AM I A LOSER (like the author)!"
Well, this chapter is dry, I must admit... Nothing. No action, no good jokes, no slightly humiliating jokes (that I remember) no NMC's... NOTHING.
Yeah, this chapter became pretty objective, more so then anything I've ever written (just take my word for it and DONT read the three... things I worte about Teen Titans the first one, not so bad, the other two... Shiver). But at least I got to Arizona, cuz the first time I wrote this (before my hard drive died) I only got to a weird conversation that I couldn't bypass at Aya's house, or anywhere for that matter. So it's a good thing... sorta.
Well, I promise something gets shot in the next chapter. And it isnt the Suburban. Stuff breaks, and John likes his disposition... maybe, haven't written it yet, but I have another IDEA MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahaha...ha... so much for the meniacle laugh... I'm not evil, sorry.
Later.
