This is what I call a transitional chapter. Not all that much happens here except for a teensy bit at the end but it was necessary in order to move the story forward. If you keep reading after this, I'll love you forever. Thankfully, it's short. And it's just a matter of my lazy ass actually typing the chapters in and getting them up sooner. I promise, it starts getting juicy after this and I'll get the chapters up soon. I swear.

The move from San Jose to Santa Carla wasn't as strenuous as she thought it was going to be. Movers are one of Man's greatest inventions because she certainly couldn't have relocated all of her things by herself and, on the west coast, she was very much alone. Detta drove ahead of the moving truck in her 1983 Nova (another compensation purchase) and kept a close eye on them in her rearview mirror. For whatever unwarranted reason, she was paranoid that they would drive off with her things.

As they rolled into town, Detta noticed the 'Welcome to Santa Carla' billboard that she didn't notice the last time she was here. She smiled at the inviting sign as she made her first official, permanent step into Santa Carla. She checked the truck in back of her again and noticed something written on the back of the billboard. She chanced a glance over her shoulder to get a better read and her jaw dropped at what she saw. 'Murder Capital of the World.' She slammed on her brakes and a series of squeals could be heard behind her as the truck came within inches of her back bumper.

"What the hell's your problem, lady?"

"That bastard," Detta mumbled to herself.

She stuck her arm out into the warm ocean air as a means of apology and started along the road again. He never told me the real reason why the property was so cheap. The crime's phenomenal in this town! But maybe that was just someone being a wiseass. Maybe they were bored and wanted to give people a good scare. New York's idea of a scare is running out of coffee. Things were rather different on this coast, as least in this town anyway.

The movers wouldn't let her move any of the smaller stuff in until they got the furniture situated. Then they pretty much unloaded the rest of her things into the center of the living room floor and left her to her own devices.

"Lovely."

It was nearly dark by the time she had gotten all of the boxes into the right rooms. She hadn't even unpacked yet but she did know this. She was starving. She locked up her house (her house!) and hopped into her Nova to scavenge for some food. She thought about ordering something but decided against it, turning into the parking lot of a small grocery store further into town.

One hundred and twenty dollars later (she was rather hungry), she was fixing herself a sandwich in her new kitchen, drinking a soda and eating some chips. The silence of her empty house started to ring in her ears so she plugged in her stereo and sound blasted so loud from the speakers she thought they were going to blow. The song wasn't even discernible. Detta jumped and cringed and groped for the volume, turning it down to a level that didn't make her eardrums bleed. Tears for Fears' 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World' made itself known when she adjusted the volume and she went back to her sandwich. She started eating but grew discontent and started fidgeting. She looked out of the slider and saw the darkened frame of a chair sitting on her patio. She grabbed her food, flicked on the light and moved her dinner outside. It was cooler out there anyway. She looked out over the cliff, her small yet ever-expansive backyard, and marveled at the view. Even with the patio light on, the amount of stars was quadruple the greatest amount she had ever seen whilst in New York. She could see waves breaking out in the sea and the tiny lights from the Boardwalk glittered in the distance.

But then something jerked her from her dining serenity. A noise, but what was it and where was it coming from? Detta leaned back to the open slider and listened to her stereo—just music coming out of that. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something flash past. She jerked her head upwards but the sky was empty. A bird perhaps. But she could still hear the noise, this high-pitched screech and…laughter? No, that was probably the radio. But the screech—a bird maybe? Or bats? Detta shuddered at the thought. The last thing she wanted to contend with was a flock of bats. At least she didn't have an attic. She shook her head and passed it off as some kind of animal before collecting the remnants of her meal and going back inside.

She tossed the debris on the counter, promising herself she'd clean it tomorrow. She contemplated unpacking some more but decided against it. Although it was still early, Detta had done a lot during the day and just wanted to sleep. At the moment she was regretting having the movers bring her bedroom things upstairs because she felt she might just fall asleep on her way up but she shrugged it off. She hated to sleep on the first floor anyway and grudgingly walked up the flight of stairs to be greeted by her inviting mattress. She quickly changed, threw a sheet and pillow on top of the bed and curled herself up in it, falling asleep almost immediately.

Something lurched Detta from her sleep and she sat bolt upright, trying to grasp the difference between sleep and reality. It was still dark out, no signs of light and no signs of a clock. Squinting through the sleep in her eyes. Detta rummaged around in a box next to her bed and found a small table clock. If it was right, it was three in the morning. She moaned and fell back onto the bed, dropping the clock onto the floor. What woke her up? She felt herself drifting back into sleep when she heard it again—engines. There were a few of them and they kept revving. They were close. Detta got up and walked over to the window, stretching to see anything but her only view was that of the ocean. She crept downstairs in the relative darkness, trying to get a better look.

There, off her living room, she saw a flash of white light, a few flashes in rapid succession. That had to have been where the noise was coming from. Engines, they sounded like bikes. Screams and honking horns couldn't wake Detta up hut engines muffled by a few hundred yards of trees did. She shook her head and shrugged off the incident as a matter of timing, dragged herself back up to the loft and set to finishing her night's sleep.

If you read it, please review it and let me know what you think.