Chana-san has requested that L re-enter the picture. So naturally, I had to find a way to make sure that it happened; and while he is not in this chapter, he will be in the next one. I must apologize, also, for the lack of romance in this fic, especially during this arc. But I swear on my life that it'll come later! I just have to find the right situation to use!
I originally planned to have some romance in this chapter, but it was getting kind of long and I wanted to get it posted. Please try to enjoy.
Disclaimer: Whatever. No longer possess violin, and keyboard is old and slightly damaged.
We entered the living room just in time to see Mello hanging up the phone. "Sawyer and Lucy are coming." I could only watch in awe as they went over to the coat closet, obviously knowing what they were doing, and taking two flattened backpacks from the very top shelf. I caught one just as Matt threw it to me, and I followed them to the kitchen.
To say that they raided to the place is such an understatement, that I won't even begin to describe it. They were going through the cabinets, grabbing tons of things that I could tell wouldn't perish quickly, like bread and boxed snacks. They were done before I could move from the door, or think about how Mortar would have to explain the sudden absence of food to her father, and suddenly, my pack was ripped from my hands by the aforementioned girl, who shoved a ton of cloth into them.
"There are clothes, with some explosives and lighters there. Don't drown the dynamite!" I blinked as she shoved a gun into the pack at the very top. "And definitely be careful with that!"
I strapped the backpack to…well, my back, and numbly followed the older teenagers to the garage as they ran ahead of me. When we got there, the door was already opening, and I saw a sleek-looking black van, followed by a smaller more compact black car. Driving the van was a boy who I assumed was Sawyer, while a girl (Lucy) drove the smaller car. Mello, Matt, and I piled into the van, and I heard the two drivers talking to each other in what sounded like fast-paced Spanish.
Mello joined right in, barking in the other language like a pro. Only when it was absolutely silent, save for our heavy breathing, did I decide that it was safe to talk.
"What exactly is happening right now, Mello?" He looked over at me in surprise, like he'd forgotten I was there. His eyes hardened, but I could tell it wasn't directed at me.
"We were spotted after coming out of the basement, and I noticed a guy watching us earlier this morning. Matt and I tapped their communications and found out that Rod sent some more guys. They should be getting there in the next few minutes. When their bug tells the backup that two different cars were seen leaving, Rod will want to personally handle it. The reason the two cars were so different was because Rod knows my general thinking process. He knows that I'm typically as unconventional as it gets."
Mello smirked.
"The obvious vehicle for us to have taken was this one, because it's practical. But Rod Ross knows that I've never really valued practicality. So he'll assume that I was trying to trick them by stuffing all three of us into the smaller car. Lucy is going to throw them off by acting like she doesn't have us, because he'll be expecting her to try and hide us. Sawyer on the other hand, will make it slightly obvious that we're here, because it'll look like he's trying to trick the guys into thinking that we're here." He smirked. "Basically, Rod's own intelligence is working against him."
I frowned in concern. "What about Mortar?" Matt spoke up that time.
"Well, they're gonna search her place, but since she works for a different family, they won't know about her basements. Any evidence we left that we were living there would be in the third basement, which they definitely won't find. And because of the lockdown sequence, it's doubtful they'll even get into the second one." He tried to take a cigarette out, only for Mello to yell at him in a hushed voice (you know, like a stage whisper?) to put it away. "The only thing we have to worry about," he continued irritably, "is Mortar's dad coming home. That won't necessarily affect us, but Mo will be screwed."
My frown deepened. Mortar was at a huge risk. And it seemed that the only reason for it was because of us. Yeah, I realize that it's part of her chosen occupation, and that all jobs come with hazards, yada yada, but still. She'd been a great help to us, and to see her being put in such an unstable situation was unsettling, to say the least.
I looked up at our driver, Sawyer. He was a decent-sized guy, probably pretty young, but definitely older than Mello and Matt. He had a short crop of dark-brown hair, and I'd caught a glimpse of brown eyes earlier. From my place on the floor of the van, I could tell he was wearing a dark jacket of some kind, but not much more than that. Matt must've noticed my sudden interest in the man behind the wheel, because he jumped in to explain.
"Sawyer is a getaway driver, with his sister, Lucy. They're specialized to these kinds of jobs, and maintain a special loyalty to Mello, because he's always relied on them." He chuckled. "You'd be surprised how many friends this guy has in the crime world." He jerked a thumb towards Mello, who put on a "modest" smirk, behind which I could see that he was relishing the praise. If it wasn't obvious before that Mello thoroughly enjoyed having his ego stroked, it was now.
We were silent for the next hour or so, and I began to wonder if we were ever going to stop. I guess my overall silence, and what was probably a bored look must have been cause for concern, because Mello tapped my arm.
"You alright?" he asked. I nodded.
"Hey, Mello?" His eyebrows rose in expectance, and slight eagerness. I had noticed that recently. Whenever I said his name, questioningly or otherwise, his eyebrows would quirk and he would immediately jump to my side, like he was still on his kick about being determined to make me happy, like when we first met.
"Why did you lie to me about your age?" His shoulders fell, and I could tell that it wasn't something he felt like discussing. Why, exactly, was a mystery to me, as much as his reason for doing it in the first place.
It took Mello a moment to come up with an answer, and even then he seemed reluctant to give it, so Matt swooped in and saved him.
"That's kind of a story for another time," he said casually, tapping at a muted game. "But I'd say that if there was ever a time for Q&A, it'd be now. We could make a game out of it." Matt's dry, sarcastic sense of humor was not lost on me. "Like Truth or Dare, but you know, minus 'dare'."
Mello rolled his eyes, but both of them looked at me anyways. I studied both of their faces, trying to determine if they were serious. I mean, Truth or Dare? That was a little juvenile, even for my age…but my two…should we say "travel companions"? Either way, both of them looked completely serious. They really expected me to take this opportunity to ask them questions.
Well okay, then.
"Very well," I began, trying to sound good-natured. "I would like to inquire about our destination, in that case."
Mello chose to field that question. "We're going to head to San Francisco. The other car is going towards Arizona. Lucy'll split up with another car and make it look like we've switched, and then that car will be going to New Mexico while Lucy goes north. She was planning on heading to Colorado anyways, to visit some friends. This just gave her a job to do before she left."
"What about us?" I pressed. "Will we also be switching off? Because if we do, then it seems like we'll never stop being chased, because there'll have been an equal chance of us being in either car. It's not like this Rod Ross of yours can actually read your mind. The most he could hope for is a very well-educated guess, which I'm sure you've accounted for."
"Yes," Mello agreed, frowning at me slightly. "Of course I accounted for that. As for your question, no we won't. It's also a strategy to have Sawyer helping us. He's known for being kind of a ditz, even if he's a kick-ass driver." The blonde spared a look at our driver, who had made a noise of disapproval. "Sorry, man, but it's true. Anyways, Ross would expect me to take him, because he's the choice that would be the least suspicious. However, because Ross is re-thinking what to expect, hoping to catch me off guard, he'll expect us to have gone with Lucy."
My mind flashed back to the woman behind the wheel of the car. Now that I thought about it, she had a heavily serious air about her, like she meant business. It was an unsettling change of pace. I'd never actually come face-to-face with a person like that. Talked to them through a computer? Sure. But no one I knew in my actual life had that thick, serious aura of "mess with me and I will murder you". L was more of "leave me alone, unless you've got sugar", I dissociated myself from everyone at school, and Mello was more of "screw with me and I'll fucking kill your ass" with a side of "INCOMING BLIND RAGE, DUCK AND COVER". Matt was more of a laid back "Don't touch my game and we'll be fine. But I do have a gun." Then there was Mortar, who was kind of "Better get out of the way, or you'll die, and I won't care!"
But Lucy was darker, that much I could tell from simply seeing her.
"Hm," I murmured. "I believe that it's Matt's turn now." They both stared at me like I was insane, so I continued. "Were we not playing a game?" Reminded of that fact, both of them crossed their arms and mumbled something that sounded like "Yeah, I knew that."
After they were done pretending not to have forgotten, Matt cleared his throat and stood up. "So, Near. You ever been laid?" I mentally facepalmed.
"Mello, I believe it's your turn."
I had begun to doze off sometime after Sawyer informing us that we were around half an hour from San Francisco, so I was surprised that I was still in the car when I came to. I looked around at my…er, companions?...finding that they were both wide awake, though they looked exhausted. Immediately, I began to feel guilty for falling asleep on them, but really, why shouldn't I have? They could have, too, if they really wanted to. I mean, it's not like they would sleep through an attack, right?
"You've only been out for around fifteen minutes," Mello said, seemingly reading my mind.
I nodded, rubbing my eyes and refusing to yawn. The lull of the van moving over the street was hypnotizing.
"Where are we staying?" I questioned. "Once we're in the city, I mean." Mello propped one arm up on his left knee, using the heel of his palm to support his head at the chin.
"Another safe-house. This one is a bit more typical, though. It's an actual house, and there's gonna be people already there." I mentally cringed, and I felt my eyebrows furrow a little. This would be a new experience. Sure, I'd read reports written by people who'd busted safe-houses for drugs and other such things before, but this would be my first time actually being inside one of them. Mortar's had definitely been unconventional, sure, but I'd never actually stopped to consider—surprisingly –exactly how unconventional. I'd always just gone with it, making the connection between Mortar's own insanity and the design of her basements.
We actually arrived at the safe-house about twenty minutes after entering in the city, and as soon as we did, Mello practically blew the door open with a powerful kick. Immediately, I heard the sound of guns being cocked, and they were aimed at us as soon as we were in sight.
The people who were lounging around what I assumed was the main room were exactly the kind of people I expected to see. A few guys in various styles of dress, from what I dubbed "Sleazy Business Casual" to "Still Sleazy, but not quite 'business' Casual". There was no trend in race or gender; the group was very diverse, which a small part of my mind registered as semi-respectable.
"Who the hell are you?" Snapped one of the Sleazy Business Casuals. I frowned slightly in distaste. He had probably been attempting to give an intimidating glare, but his face seemed to have its own ideas as it twisted into an ugly snarl. As the occupants of the room all adopted similar looks, I found myself releasing a sigh. This was definitely one of the more dangerous situations I'd been in since I found myself associated with this nature of people, but the fact that they couldn't be properly intimidating made the majority of the unease I felt virtually disappear. I mean, it said tons about their competence.
In my mind, I could practically see myself rising on a pillar of stone that was only getting taller. It was the feeling I got whenever I was around idiots like these. It was a feeling of superiority, like I was suddenly immortal in comparison. Of course, though, there was the rational side of me that registered that no matter what their competence was like, or how smart they were, they had guns—fairly large ones, in fact—pointed straight at our faces. So, I swallowed my pride and let Mello handle it, because in all honestly, I'd probably end up getting us all shot.
"I'm Mello, and until further notice, this hole is under my jurisdiction." There was a gleam in Mello's eyes, and I gathered that he was getting the same sense of superiority that I was, but he was much better at executing it in a way that wouldn't make us…you know, die. "I'm sure that even you gang-rats have heard of me." He sneered, and the guys with the guns lowered them, but continued to harbor those horrible glares, as if they were torn between telling us to get the fuck out of their hovel, or succumb to status. In the end, one of the women spoke up.
"You know, I heard Rod Ross's got a heavy price on your head." The woman was very stereotypical, with her tight-fitting clothes and heavy makeup. But she seemed to be just unpleasantly idiotic enough to realize that she could gain something by speaking up. But as soon as she had made that point, the man at her side stepped forward, slicking back some greasy brown hair.
"The woman has a point. Why shouldn't we just kill you now and then hand your head over to Ross? We'd shoot up the ranks for sure. Get outta this shitty place, anyway." He spit, and I wrinkled my nose in distaste as I saw the blob of tobacco-stained saliva go flying.
Mello didn't seem to notice or care, however, and seemed to be pretending to consider what the man had just said. "You know," he said, reaching behind him. "I don't think your plan works out very well. If you kill me, then the first thing that happens is that my friends here shoot you sorry bastards. After that," he pulled a cell phone from his back pocket, bringing it up for all of us to see. "I've already entered the coordinates of my current location into this phone. If I don't reset the alarm every fifteen minutes, then land mines will cave in the house, trapping everyone, while simultaneously contacting the authorities and letting them know where to find a bunch of morons holding pot." The ones who weren't holding guns glanced around, seeing the drugs sitting on plates, scattered on the floor, or in the hands of some other gang members.
The first guy, the one who I'd dubbed their leader, in my mind, smirked. "You're bluffing, you blond prick!" He advanced, and suddenly Matt and Sawyer had both drawn guns. I blinked, wondering if I was meant to have one too. It didn't seem like it. I'd never actually had to shoot a gun before, and my aim was probably wild something terrible. I wasn't even that good at darts.
"Does it look like I bluff to you?" Mello chuckled darkly, gesturing with this gun to the scarred left side of his face. "This is what happened the last time someone like you tried to 'call my bluff'. Now are you gonna calm your ass down and let us pass through peacefully, or am I gonna hafta give you one to match? I wouldn't mind another." Mello's voice was deadly, but taunting, with a very un-subtle hint of crazy.
The leader seemed to consider us for a few more moments before visibly conceding. "Fine," he spat. "Just don't get us caught in the crossfire of whatever shit you've got going with the Boss." With that, everyone stood down, and Mello led the three of us through the house. I could feel the eyes on me, practically screaming the fact that I didn't belong as if I didn't already know.
I just kept moving, and let myself be herded like the sheep I'd been compared to so many times at school. I made sure to memorize the hallways, just in case we needed a quick escape. I was so focused that I didn't even really notice we'd stopped until I bumped into Matt's back, and I found that we were all in a room.
The place made for a marvelous representation of the rest of the house. The plaster was cracked and the paint fading, with a few bullet holes, and holes that could only be have been made by one or more people punching through the wall. There were three mattresses on the floor, two twins and one queen, and they looked like they'd seen their share. All three were bare of any bedding except a few stained pillows, and each was marked with blood, what looked like alcohol, and something else that I really didn't want to think about.
Mello immediately walked over to the largest bed and dropped his bag on it. Matt followed in suit, and Sawyer dropped the small duffel he carried onto one of the smaller mattresses. Seeing that no one had claimed the final twin mattress, I dropped my pack on it gently, remembering the pyrotechnics and whatnot that was stored there.
The silence that surrounded us was palpable at this point, but no one seemed to care because we were all so tired.
Gee, who knew that sitting in a car for god knows how long could be so exhausting?
At least Sawyer's fatigue made sense. He'd been driving for such a long time, and had only stopped once for gas. As for the rest of us…mental strain? I don't know…
We'd just laid down when Matt decided to talk. "You guys" he said seriously. "I have a confession to make. I…I lied." I looked up to see him, only to find that he was looking in a completely different direction, no game device clutched in his hands for once. I could see its outline in his pocket, though.
"About what?" Mello inquired warily. I wish I could say something cool, like 'His smirk grew to epic proportions', but it really didn't. Any semblance of a smirk that had ever been on his face was now gone, replaced by a wholly serious expression as he sat up, giving all of us a look.
"This isn't my natural hair color."
Our two day stay in the confines of this safe-house was nothing like with Mortar. There was always something for us to do with her, and she fed us regularly, bearing in mind that we couldn't go out and do it for ourselves. In all, she was like the insane, all-too-teenager-y mother. Maybe that wasn't normal for her. Perhaps she'd just been that nice because she knew Mello so well. Because Raphael, the main caretaker of this house, didn't give a rat's ass about us. He was cold and forbidding. He was just like the rest of them, except that he took care of the house's main needs, like repairing pipes and other things that would severely inhibit the house's integrity.
Then there was Amelia, his girlfriend, who never wanted to see us. She was beautiful, definitely, but she always wore this ugly frown that made it impossible to even remotely begin to like her. I would have tried, even without showing it, really. But to put it simply, she was a bitch-on-wheels. I won't even bother myself with trying to describe her.
But the strangest thing about the safe-house? We weren't confined to a labyrinth and some basements. We were technically allowed to do whatever the hell we wanted, a side effect of that "no-one gives a flying **** what happens to you" policy.
That didn't mean that we actually went traipsing around the house, though. Mello did, sure, but he was different. Even Matt preferred to hole up in the room on the bed he shared with Mello. Saywer would occasionally venture out into the living room to bum a cigarette off of someone, because Matt refused to share. The redhead (or newly revealed brunet, I guess), on the other hand was perfectly content to crack a window in "our" room to let the smoke escape while he burned one as he tapped away at the game that never seemed to leave his side.
Idly, I wondered what the hell kind of game he was playing that went on for that long. Not once had I actually seen him switch the games. And the light hum of background music was ALWAYS the same, so it was definitely the same game.
One day, I decided to ask him.
"Hm?" he grunted, taking notice of me. "Oh, yeah. Well the music is kind of a disguise, actually. Most of the time, anyways." I said nothing, waiting for him to articulate. Rather than say anything, or get up and come over to my bed, he gestured for me to come over with one finger. Curious, I obeyed. What he showed me on the screen of what I now recognized as a PSP was nothing like what I expected. It was a two-by-two grid of surveillance tapes, showing the view from the living room, main hallway/stairwell, and both yards of the house. Matt smirked, seemingly sensing my admiration and surprise. "Check this out."
He tapped a combination of keys, and suddenly, I was looking at a list of files, all titled "Profile: *Insert names*". There was one on Me, Mello, Matt, Mortar, and lots of other people, including Sawyer, Lucy, and Rod Ross himself. Another combination of buttons and I was now looking at a black screen with green text scrolling down it at a pace that indicated it was being auto-decrypted by some kind of software. I blinked in surprise.
"You…You did all this?" I said quietly. "Why?"
"Because Mello asked me to." I looked down at Matt, who had a very self-satisfied grin on his face as he punched in another combination that actually turned on his game, which I now saw was some kind of fantasy game.
I blinked again, moving away from Matt to sit back on my bed. So, Matt was a technology-freak. It had to be useful, sure, but it seemed like he was wasting an awful lot of potential in his position. He could probably work for any government in the world if he wanted. Hell, he could start, carry out, and end a Cyber War between three different countries all by himself. And considering his dry sense of humor, it actually seemed like something he would do.
As I let my thoughts drift to the possibilities of Matt's talents being put to use, I fingered the small box of dice in my hand, eventually dumping the contents onto the floor. Beginning to stack them, I scowled. I never had enough space or materials to do anything entertaining, like the Lego Metropolis I'd created while L was gone. Even at home, that was the largest structure I was able to create. If I had something, say, the size of a gymnasium, then I could really build. Anyone who ever mocked me for playing with toys, despite my age would owe me an apology.
I had built the stack of twelve dice up as high and precarious as it could get, when a sudden, loud noise made my hand jerk to the side, knocking it over. I frowned in distaste, looking over to Matt, who had jumped up, and was now examining his PSP closely. Somewhat curious as to what was setting off alarms, I moved to look over his shoulder. The surveillance footage was up.
I almost gasped, but my mental barriers decided to start working in the face of such a threat. It wasn't armed cronies coming to kill us, or take us hostage for whatever Crime Syndicate that Mello was being hunted by. The threat was much, much worse.
It was the cops. They police were performing a raid on the house.
I wonder how L will fit in to the picture now? Psh, whatever. I'm sure you all know by now. But how will the ROMANCE FACTOR come in to play? Eh, I don't know. I'm formulating as we speak...or rather, as I type. Not so much as you read, because I might have already come up with something by the time you read this.
Whoop di flippin doo for social awkwardness. Please review.