I spent some time polishing my writing skills by reading about, grammar, style, punctuation, word-choice and stuff like that. I hope you can feel it in this chapter.
One more thing, leave me a note if you are interested in beta-reading this fic.
On my Watch
Part III
Lying idly on his bed, Jayden could have sworn that his fancy hotel room ceiling had some vendetta against him. Half-lidded eyes observed the lifeless structure as it played snapshots of the day shameful events. Earlier, he cowered allowing Blake to have his way with Mars' psychiatrist, before dragging him obediently to hunt a man he was willing to steak his life on his innocence. His post-dose epiphany declared him guilty of another crime of human weakness that he himself was its victim. As if it wasn't enough to back off from Blake's stampede, he surrendered to this withdrawal fit that threw him back in the arms of his poisonous mistress. And I thought Blake has problem with self-control, came the shameful acknowledgement of this personal limitation.
Jayden's recent lack of self-control reminded him of Blake's early display of this skill back in the covered market. Playing the early events in the clinic but from a different angle, Jayden wondered whether Blake really lacked self-control or he just established this aggressive approach after losing faith in lawful methods taught to naïve academy trainees. Being a veteran street cop, Blake knew well his way around those dark alleys and managed to survive their malice till now. Jayden doubted that his own fantasy book of law and justice would have ever prepared him to face whatever lurked beyond the mask of a modern, civilized city. Few punches delivered to another money-sucking leech had saved them the trouble of going through routine process and wasting precious sand grains from Shaun's hourglass. "Fight fire with fire . . . I could learn a thing or two from Blake!" he chuckled with the irony as he pushed himself up to sit.
As soon as he did, Jayden regretted the sudden move that rocked his light head with mad throbs of a junkie's hangover. With both hands pressing his head to still those hammering pounds, he stood and walked to the bathroom in search of his trusted painkillers that were always there to ease the soreness. They were waiting faithfully for him—on the washbasin counter—ready to banish the pain away. They did as soon as he took a couple of them and followed it with a splash of cold water to his pale face. With the feeling of refreshment being relatively restored, he averted his face from the dead one reflected on the wide mirror before exiting the bathroom.
At the bathroom doorway, Jayden paused calculating his next move. There was the room door, encouraging him to seek Mad Jack in hope to trace the car back to the Origami Killer and redeem himself in the process. On the other side, there was his bed tempting him to throw his jaded body on it and drift away from the traceless investigation into deep slumber. Lost in the welcoming sight of the soft bed, he wondered what would it be like to fall into a dreamless sleep and never wake up until all his problems were solved. The thought triggered a childish nostalgia that was too innocent to dismiss, however he wasn't a carefree child, not anymore. Taken by bitterness, his gaze wondered shyly around the bottle of drink resting on the TV stand to his right. Promises to sooth his mind and elevate the dark cloud that ruled his sky almost seduced him to relinquish the clarity of mind he just restored, but the fresh memory of his late drug-lust repulsed him.
It did not take Jayden much time to decide that he had to keep chasing the shadow of the killer that, likely, once lingered in Mad Jack's junkyard. Face to face with the room door, his fear of confronting a suspect considered extremely dangerous cracked his resolve. I should call Blake and have him go with me. It's safer with a partner. Was it cowardice or caution that tried to push him to seek the older cop's company? On the light of early events, Jayden admitted the first, feeling disgust with himself as he tried to mask his fear with professional rationale. As if Blake is going to agree anyway, he found it easier to go alone knowing that Blake wouldn't avert his hunting eyes from Ethan and waste time chasing a slim lead. The company of Triptocine would also ease him in taking the risk that every patrol cop was accustomed to as part of work everyday routine. Weakened by the temptation, he retreated to the bedside and snatched his drug from the floor before hastily hiding it away from his reasonable self. With his drug safe in his pocket, he exited the room determined to prove his worth as a field agent.
It was the second dangerous encounter for the day that Jayden was lucky enough to walk away from alive after his reckless dance with Death. Outside the Blue Lagoon, he sat in his rented car; cell phone abandoned on the passenger seat after its second call for the day to report another murder. Seething with rage upon loosing the only lead he had, he grabbed the steering wheel in a lethal clutch, ready to snap it if it were less fortified. When his tense grip did nothing to vent out his rage, he started a rhythmic banging of his head that gave him just enough physical pain to focus on instead of the psychological one.
After steel jaws of a man-made beast almost crunched him, and following being beaten and tossed around by Mad Jack, Jayden escaped early demise thanks to sheer luck that averted the scythe of death from reaping him and got his enemy instead. Even with the junkyard dweller gone, he was still frozen with fear for dear sanity that this ugly near-death experience threatened to tear asunder. He remembered how his legs failed to sustain him and how the sadistic laughter kept resonating in his horror-stricken mind only to get overridden again and again by a death cry—a screeching scream that ran him through viciously.
Back among the livings, Jayden left the bloody junkyard but not before staining it with his vomit upon seeing what was left of the tattooed brute. Throughout the walk to the highway, he kept looking over his shoulders whenever Jack's dead laugh terrorized his fragile sense of safety. With the ghost of the recently dead man on his heels, he wanted to run as fast as he could but he couldn't risk overloading his burning lungs and faint in the middle of nowhere.
After he was blessed with a taxi to shelter him from the hunting phantom in the distance, Jayden finally found a safe haven in the hotel room. He rushed to the bathroom to clean off and change his clothes that had turned muddy earlier when Neville decided to sweep the junkyard floor with him before he was swept himself to a mere bloody stain. Emerging clean and neat helped him construct an inner lie to convince him that it was over with the dangerous part, but the lie came crashing down few hours later.
Paco was silenced only minutes before Jayden arrived to be greeted by the Origami Killer. The shrouded man slipped away like quicksilver only because his opponent was too weak to take him on in a fist fight. Actually, Jayden was lucky to survive an encounter with the bulky killer, yet luck didn't have anything to do with it. To further his humiliation, the elusive killer did not bother getting rid of him and decided that he was not even a threat. A very cautious killer just turned his back on him walking away; not bothering to run off in fear of capture. Was he that worthless? "Apparently, yes!" he snapped throwing his hot head backward to rest on the head pad.
Jayden felt trapped in the humid car that failed to shield his aching head from the shrilling noises ragging in the Blue Lagoon. No matter how much time he had spent inside or how more time the police would be wasting once they arrived, Paco's death marked another dead end in the path of this investigation. There were no more leads that he could pick up and start over; not even among what he'd uncovered in Paco's private office. He wanted out of this cramped space but the heavy rain pouring down the vehicle convinced him otherwise. He needed to relax and think of a way to get back on the killers' heels but his mind was shut down, unable to suggest a proper course of action; not even a next move. All the stress building up for the last few hours had finally caught up with his fragile psyche advising him to get a break. However, time was a luxury that Shaun didn't had, so he needed to get a handle on things if he wanted to save the kid's life and deny the Origami Killer his ninth victim.
Strange how his instinct kicked in, taking over his baffled motor system to retrieve Triptocine from his pocket. It was only when his wild eyes glanced the familiar blue in his trembling hand; glittering under the equally blue neon light of the nightclub sign, that he realized how entangled he'd become in this web. It scared him to have his own body conspiring against him with this toxic potion and seducing him to indulge further in his addiction—just like it did back in Jackson's garage. He just got his ego scared again tonight; not by a masked killer this time but his own frailty.
In retaliation to this self-betrayal, Jayden threw the door open and half-stepped outside into the soaking rain; arm stretching above ready to banish the treacherous vile into the rainwater. Yet, the heavy downpour hitting the pavement echoed distant cries of help that Shaun kept emitting to whoever was willing to hear. Halting his arm mid-throw, he reassessed his priorities at this stage. Sure, his drug-craving habit needed addressing before it would render him dead but he still got more time than the drowning kid. Whether he liked it or not, Tripto gave him an edge that had kept him in the game this far. Moreover and devious as he was, the Origami Killer required all his focus if he to apprehend him before another sacrifice was mad to rainwater. He could not spare an ounce of strength battling addiction withdrawal where it wasn't due. After he saved Shaun and locked up his kidnapper, he would go on-leave, go to rehab or even seclude himself in some faraway Tibetan temple to work out his issues.
Calmed down whether due to the cooling effect of the rainwater or the feel of his trusted medicine still in his hand, Jayden retreated inside the car. Being exhausted from both the physical and the mental fights, he tried to relax in the cushioned seat savoring the conflict resolution. It didn't matter who was the victor as long as the fight was over allowing him to preserve his energy for a more productive cause. With the dust settling down, he could celebrate clarity of mind with a tribute of its own kind. Just a little to relax, he justified before inhaling what he convinced to be the last does before his post-investigation resolution to quit the deadly habit.
Although the rain had ceased sometime in midnight, it still craved for torturing the city inhabitants with chilly drizzles; upsetting what could've' been a beautiful morning. Sheltered from the cold autumn breeze, Jayden felt a bit warmer while crossing the police station parking lot. It occurred to him that he was early, even than a post-night officer rushing to handover a heavy shift. However, he was proven wrong when a patrol car startled him with the piercing sound of its siren and the flashing of its mismatched lightbar. Apparently, some tough cop decided to pick on him; which was not surprising considering how negatively popular he was in this particular precinct. "Sorry I startled you, pal!" came the insincere apology that the FBI agent didn't like, choosing to ignore it in favor of his walk to the entrance. True, he was startled to death but it was not as frightening as to be awakened by its sound after dozing-off in his new car outside the Blue Lagoon. Regardless, he was not going to show that to the bullies around here who were dying to make him snivel.
Inside the station, it was hectic as ever; which promised a merciless day ahead that wouldn't spare him the extra headache and add to the existing one of sleep-deprivation. Ignoring the curious stares that targeted his multi-bruises, Jayden crossed the tired station to his humble office. Once he was inside, he didn't waste time setting on the worn chair and pulling ARI from its confinement. Under the morning sunray, the glasses never looked so . . . precious! He knew that if he had a chance of catching the killer only ARI would deliver it on a silver platter. But what if it to fail him? He didn't want to think negatively at this critical point but the fear of returning empty-handed from this ARI ride still wrapped his mind as he wore the black glasses and journeyed into ARI's artificial world.
Furious, Blake was typing his update report of the ongoing investigation. Earlier the day, he went into Parry's office trying to convince him to relax and give him time since he'd finally uncovered the Origami Killer's identity. Yet, the other refused to listen unless Blake was confident enough to document it. He was certain that Ethan Mars was their man since his own psychiatrist—the professional—seemed to suspect him of being the killer. Moreover, nobody knew a man better than his wife, and Mars' wife had already conveyed her suspicion of her unbalanced husband. With the testimony of both his psychiatrist and wife, and since he chose to be on the run, Ethan Mars had already dug his own grave. As for tangible evidence, once he got his hands on Mars, he would get a warrant to search his place where evidence of his murders was bound to be found. It always went like this in homicides committed by psycho killers who were more focused on getting a next victim than cleaning off the blood of the previous one.
Blake didn't care what Jayden believed or what he said about Mars' psychological profile not matching that of the killer. How could he draw one to begin with if the guy was psychologically disturbed? For him, the younger agent was lacking the sixth sense that he would had acquired if he didn't spent his time burying his head in fancy text books or getting high every time he didn't get his way. With the conclusion of his investigation report, he printed it out before heading towards Parry's office. He could go back to doing real police work and continue hunting Mars once he'd submitted his report to Parry—a report that would only give the bragging captain material for another "brag-conference".
On the opposite side of the station, Jayden was waking up after a short nap induced by stress and fatigue that got him after spending all morning running around in circles inside ARI. He didn't intend to waste a minute napping but it happened as soon as his mind shut down with the inability to analysis, comprehend or even stay on board of his aimless train of thought. One minute, he was leaning forward, closing his eyes in an effort to relax and clear his head. Another, he was waking up startled from deep within, as if a voice had called upon his resolve to tighten up again; giving him energy boost in process. Dusk was upon him, marking the beginning of what would be the last night of Shaun's young life if all rescue efforts were to fail. Determined, he grabbed a bottle of water and emptied its content on his face before going back to examine the silent clues within ARI.
With Perry's ego pampered and polished to shine above his own, Blake was ready to pluck the last thorn in his side: Jayden of the FBI. Perry had smelled relief from the lieutenant convicting report that he authorized him to get rid of the FBI nuisance and tell him that his services weren't required anymore. Of course, Blake was more than happy to run this errand and kick out the annoying kid once and for all. Actually, he was set off to achieve the task as soon as he exited the captain's office. He is too emo for our dirty work. He should've been kept in a shell in DC, he justified.
Upon the door, Blake paused listening to Jayden ranting about another dead end that left him clueless. Talking to yourself already . . . save the kid's thrashing for later! He knew he had to go easy on the distressed kid if he didn't want to walk in later and find him hanging from the ceiling. But how could he tell him that he is useless without scarring his young ego? He'd never been comfortable acting compassionate towards strangers; not to mention those he despised. For a starter, no shouting, and keep the smugness at bay, he made up his mind.
Leisurely, Blake pushed the door open pulling the distracted agent from whatever thought he was chasing. His early resolution went down the drain once he locked eyes with Jayden's rivaling pair. Habit was an unstoppable driving force and he failed to mask the taunting aura that his ego was emitting. "All packed up and ready to go?" came the rhetoric question; eager to add the other man's distress. "What are you talking about?" Jayden didn't expect the hit. "The investigation's over. We know who did it. We no longer need your services anymore, Norman. So you can ride your files all the way back to Washington. I'll be lying if I said I was going to miss you," finally, he got it out of his system. "The investigation isn't over. You have absolutely nothing on Mars!" the cornered agent retaliated but he was shut down as Blake spoke, "Mars is guilty. Case closed. Anyway, it's no concern of yours now. You're off the case. So pack up and fuck off." Jayden was desperate all right that he gave up on reason and resorted to plain insults, "Blake, you are an unbalanced psychopathic asshole!" but Blake chose to welcome them with sarcasm, "I'll take that as a compliment. Honestly, I don't give a shit what you think. I've found the Origami Killer. Everyone's happy, end of story! Have a nice trip back, Norman." He exited the office leaving the helpless agent to absorb the unexpected news.
Once the door was shut behind,Blake started evaluating his performance while walking back to his desk. Luckily, he avoided shouting and spared his throat, as well as Jayden's ears, the regular damage. Since Jayden remained relatively calm, Blake figured that he didn't inflame his boiling anger; which would have giving the younger an early stroke in the process. The smugness and sarcasm were a bit overboard but, considering the lack of practice, he did just fine. He better be thankful. I just relieved him from the investigation before he lost it, he concluded not regretting how things had unfolded back inside.
Not a minute had passed and Jayden was in front of Blake's desk, irrationally demanding him to lift his left wrist. The oblivious lieutenant had played along just to see what the babbling man was aiming at. "It's a pretty odd coincidence." He heard him saying; smelling an accusation in the air, and he reacted in no time, "What are you trying to say, Norman? What? Are you accusing me of being the Origami Killer?" he pressed daring the other to give "yes" for an answer. To his own good, Jayden denied it as he seemed to snap back to a more rational state of mind, "No . . . of course not." With his professional image intact, Blake counter-attacked the stunned agent, "You know what Norman? Sometimes I think you have absolutely no fucking idea of what you are talking about. Now get out of my face. Some of us have real work to do." He watched the other retreating in defeat—back to his office—after ridding his senses from whatever possessed them earlier and drove him to lash at Blake as he did.
Blake wondered whether Jayden had gotten too desperate that he wanted a scapegoat to fill in the Origami Killer's designated cell, however it wasn't like him. Was he trying to get back at me? he questioned bewildered. Either he lost it already or he was getting extra high, he concluded before going back to his PC screen. Yet, he felt a mysterious bitterness intruding into his heart and throwing his mind in a blank reverie revolving around the glowing monitor in front. As soon as he drifted, he was back in the busy station just in time to catch a glimpse of Jayden passing by and exiting the station. For a curious moment, Blake wanted to chase after him but he dismissed the idea as soon as it came. He's done here so likely he's off packing, he reasoned and went back to his PC determined to get Perry his final draft.
One more chapter to go but it will take longer. I promise it will be worth the wait though :3