Thursday, July 24th 2008:
Why do I keep ending up in situations like this?
Yesterday, the couple dropped me off in Placid Pines, where I couldn't find a place to stay. Not one within my price-range anyway, as I felt I have already spent too much money, so I should save as much as I could. One local resident offered me a solution. In the woods there are these camp grounds, which isn't maintained anymore, so nobody would mind me spending time there. He even admitted to sometimes go there, stealing some of the conserved food it still has. Remembering this, I probably should have asked why the place wasn't maintained anymore.
When I arrived there, I noticed there was a lot of yellow tape. It was the typical police-tape that reads "CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS". On the scene I found chalk-drawings, likely of bodies they found, and traces of blood. This wouldn't be the California version of Camp Crystal Lake, would it be? If so, then I assumed that whoever caused this, they probably already caught him. In Crystal Lake, since the killer is always rampant, the authorities would probably die trying to collect the bodies. That's not the case here, so I assumed they caught the killer. Thinking back, I wonder why I made such an assumption, based on some other place, many miles away.
I did as much as I could. Had a long... long shower, washed my clothes,... I thought is was funny to see that everything, like electricity and water still worked. But I suppose, since I could use it all for free, I have no reason to complain. Even when somebody finds out, there's nothing he or she can do to me.
How wrong I was, as somebody did find out. That somebody was a man, wearing a white mask, that covered his entire face, and with a chainsaw in his one hand. Though, I don't know if I saw this right, but it looked as though the chainsaw was his hand. In either case, he didn't seem to have the best of intentions. All I could think of doing was knocking him down with the best log of wood I could find (best in that it should be hard enough to knock someone out cold, and light enough for me to lift it). With him out cold, that gave me some time to pack all my stuff together and get away from there.
I spent the night in somebody's garage. I was lucky to get in and out without being discovered, or even get on the bus in time. In any case, I'm on my way to Pan, so I should arrive in Neptune soon enough. By the way, is it me, or does this particular area have a thing for ancient mythology? I mean, Neptune the god of the seas, and Pan the faun. Then there's this Mars person I should find, which is the Roman god of war. Next thing I know, I'll be playing on the old Sega Saturn, somebody tries to sell me some of that infamous Valkyr-drug, or I'll be watching another documentary about the S.S. Poseidon, or some other movie based on what happened on that ship.
It took me a little longer than I hoped, but I arrived in Neptune eventually. Once there, I looked for Mars. I could find only two of them, one male and one female, but since the male was printed before the female (since their names were printed in alphabetical order), I looked for the male first. When I did, I found out he hasn't been inside his house for quite some time. In fact, the land-lord was even selling the place. I had to pretend to be a buyer so I could enter the house. If finding this guy (assuming he's the one I should find) would somehow help me, I figured I should look for everything that may be useful. Inside, I found a package. In it, there were some credit-cards, a driver's license, all under the same name, which I'm not going to mention for my own safety. However, the picture on the driver's license is mine. The name, nor the birth date, among other things, they weren't mine, but that picture is. Am I supposed to use a fake I.D.? Other than that, there was some kind of bag, which appeared to be made out of the same fabrics as the inside of my bag, as well as especially made to stick somewhere. But to what? Last, and right now I'd say least, there was a portable hard-drive, or a USB-stick.
When I went to another internet-cafe, I tried to see what's on the stick. And what I found on it, it made me wonder why I had to have it. All there was on it, was a song. I don't know the name of the artist singing it, but judging from the way it sounded, I think it's an old eighties song. On top of that, a repeated line in the song was "Never gonna give you up", I therefor assume that that's what the song is called. That's when somebody, using the username Wireless, send me an instant message. This was strange, as I hadn't logged in on my messenger account. Wireless, who turned out to be Hana, thought that this was better, as it's easier for her and her friends to keep others from reading whatever we were talking about. Also, the chances of us being overheard are slimmed down with this. So I asked her what's the meaning of all those things I found. She explained that I had to use that fake I.D. while in the States, use that bag to hide my real I.D., which could also be used as a double bottom inside my own bag, so nobody would find out who I really am. As for that song... she didn't tell me how, but she said that it may come in handy, one way or another. But that's when I had it with her. I appreciate her trying to help me and all, but why on a distance? In fact, why was I even doing as she's told? She didn't tell me, though she claimed she'd want to. So I asked her whether she can't give me any hints as to who she is. Or those friends she mentioned. She then claimed to have downloaded all the necessary info on the stick, but it may be best if I go check it out somewhere else. For that matter, I'd better check my mails somewhere else as well. How long is all this going to take?
Friday, July 25th 2008:
I took the first ride I could find that would take me as far out of Neptune as possible. The one driving, however, was someone of Irish descend, at least I think so, I could be mistaking his accent for another one, but for the sake of argument, let's call him the Irish guy. He wasn't particularly the friendliest ride I ever had. For one, he wouldn't have me writing in my journal, or read anything. Especially when he, all the sudden, got a call, he only went from bad to worse.
He answered, but he reacted as if he didn't know the caller. He even looked at me quite suspiciously. He kept talking to the caller, but it was as though he, or she, wouldn't stop talking. That's when he hung up the phone, stopped near an old building, where he got out, even dragged me out, beaten me until I bled, only to ask me a question to which I don't know the answer. Who was calling him, and how did she know where I was. In other words, Hana likely tried to warn me for this guy, but she couldn't, and now he knows that I'm important somehow. When he checked my (fake) I.D., he was somehow surprised to see it. Clearly, the name I was supposed to go by meant something to him, which in turn didn't make things that much better. I don't know when or how this Irish guy was stopped, but he did at some point. I'm guessing I was unconscious by the time he stopped.
So I spend the night, wounded, mostly unconscious, in the rubble of some old building, or what's left of it, somehow being able to bear the strange scent that hung in the air, that reminded me of how hospitals smell. Maybe I was even under the influence of that smell, as I remember to have seen two white mice, walking and talking, one short and one long, respectively smart and dumb, judging from how they sounded and acted. They went into my bag, only to not come out of there again. At least, not that I witnessed.
When I woke up, I saw a dead body, or what remained of that. Still, there was enough left on him to suggest he was my ride. By the looks of it, he was electrocuted. Does Hana have something to do with this? Why is she helping me? For that matter, why does she keep watching me? A point will come that I don't dare to make a move, knowing that somebody's watching me. Also, why do girls seem to be so nice around here? I mean, Jessica, Erica, Tamara, Hana,... And is it me, or do all these names end with "A"? Anyway, why are they either so helpful, do they confide in me, or even want to spend their time with me, while all the girls back home are disgusted of me?
Oh well, I could try and figure all that out, but then I'll be stuck here for hours. Then again, with that Irish guy gone, I can use his car to find my way to L.A. Finally, things are starting to look good for me.
I only just looked through my bag. That mechanical thing I got from England, it's gone. Somebody took it. This is strange for two reasons. Why would anyone steal that thing and let me keep all my money and credit cards? Okay, the latter is not really mine, but you get the idea. As for the other reason, what is it that makes this thing so special? If it's usefull in any way, it's not even big enough to fit a human baby in it.
An absurd idea just crossed my head. Remember that I mentioned seeing mice? What if they somehow took it? Like I said, absurd. Although, I do keep smelling that hospital odour, plus there's enough of the building to see that it was once a lab. Oh well, it's caused me some trouble with the border, who knows what else it would do when I try to either get out of the States, or to the moon. I guess I should be glad I got rid of it.