Okay so, I realized that my disclaimers are just so blech and boring and frankly, aren't much of a disclaimer at all. Also, looking at previous reviews, I also had this light bulb moment that there are a lot of things I have to disclaim. So, yeah. First off, the 39 Clues series (all of those breathtaking books and those still on their way) is not mine. Second, all those products that I've mentioned like iPhone, Precious Moments, TIME, etcetera are not mine, too. Third, the characters of Dora the Explorer, Barney, Thomas and Friends, etcetera are not mine, either. Fourth, all my stories are highly fictional, ya know, stuff my ADHD mind thought of when insomnia kicks in.
How's that for a disclaimer AND intro?
...
See? Blech and boring. But I updated! Aren't you guys happy? I know I am! XD Haha. So I was reading your responses and I've seen some speculations and they excite me! It's like, oh gosh who's gonna figure it out first? Since The Start of Train, a lot of you guys are so sharp to see through the hints I leave in different chapters. It makes me want to write more! I'm still practicing my hands with fluffy, mushy stuff, so please bear with me.
So, kudos to these following people who are so loyal to this story, they make me feel so guilty because I feel like I'm not thanking them well enough: addicted2reading9 (yes, that is correct XD), Reginaa2111 (the first three on your list are my favorite 39 Clues pairings!), Daughter of Oceanus (oohh... Is it true that the series are kinda like The Hunger Games? Waah! I wanna read it, but I can't get to the nearest bookstore just yet. Thanks, though!), ILuvHamiltonHolt (PJO FTW!), dear Guest, TheUltimateArtist, emmelinekat (I know, right?! *fangirl squeal* Haha. Thank you!), NatalieKFan and the new, avid reviewer (whose reviews on TST and TSP I've greatly appreciated and loved) magicdemi-god223 (Ugh. I know the feeling. Are those the First Quarterly Examinations? Good luck!).
On with the story.
Enjoy 'cause that's what matters most.
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Chapter 7
"So, the answer is underneath Uncle Alistair's hospital bed?" Amy asked slowly as she ogled at the map laid out in front of her. She still couldn't believe that the most vital lead they have proved to be so simple, so easy. Too easy.
Sinead studied Amy for a long second before saying, "I know what you're thinking and I thought of that, too." She let out a huge breath, sending strands of her auburn hair upwards. "Aside from the riddle, Uncle Alistair said that his people's answer lies underneath. Meaning, underneath the answer to the riddle, that's where he hid whatever it is that he hid. Also, if you think about it, the riddle is from an 1897 nursery rhyme book. I'm pretty sure I saw that in his library the last time we visited. Although, I can't be sure," she admitted sheepishly. Amy kept her guarded look so she continued quickly, "We could go there and check...?"
Amy started, looking at the guilty look Sinead's wearing. "No, no," she said while chuckling, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm sure you have the right answer. It's just that... it's too easy." She frowned at the map dotted with dark green spots, supposedly trees, and the clear trail that Sinead marked with a red Sharpie.
Sinead looked confused. What was wrong with things being easier? "Okay...?"
Amy traced the Xs on the map absent-mindedly. "If the answer is this easy, how come the Vespers didn't figure it out yet? All they had to do is check Google," she murmured, her eyes taking a troubled look. She chewed on the inside of her lower lip.
"Oh..." Sinead realized, getting Amy's logic. "So, you think this is a set-up?" Her voice fell sadly, not expecting this outcome at all. Sinead had really hoped that they could investigate further especially since this cost them Uncle Alistair and this is the only lead they have on finding the killer.
She needed to weigh things out first before they go ahead and attack. "No," Amy said comfortingly, hearing the disappointment in Sinead's voice. Sinead's features brightened immediately. "Although, I think we should take extra care."
xxxOOOxxx
Dan felt the beckoning vibration in his chest. Another text from 'The Helping Hand'. He pretended not to have felt it and kept his eyes tightly shut. Ian is operating the plane on his own and he seems to know exactly what he's doing because they're not dead yet. Ham and Jonah are flocked on their chairs, snoring their heads off. It's pretty dark outside, so it must be ten past something in their current position. Hamilton and Jonah are cool with how the turn-out of things (the whole Dan-is-Boots-sneaks-in thing) and Ian can do nothing more than oblige. Ian wisely said that 'it's not like we could do something now' and 'not like we could kick him out', and just proceeded in pretending that Dan doesn't exist.
There was another vibrating buzz and this one, if possible, sounded more demanding. Dan squirmed in his seat, scratching the side of his head.
"Are you not getting that?" Ian asked from somewhere in the cockpit. "It's getting rather persistent."
Dan's eyes flew open at that. "How did you...?" he trailed off, looking at the back of Ian's seat in wonder.
Ian chuckled amusedly. "Just check your phone, Daniel, and no more irritating noise while I steer," he said simply, leaving Dan in silence after that slightly bewildering encounter.
Dan made a disgusted face. This incident is just one of the many proofs that Ian Cobra is not human. Probably a robot or something. With a heavy sigh, Dan fished his phone out of his pocket. He opened the first message.
Change of plans – I need you to go to St. Petersburg. ASAP.
Dan felt his eyebrows crinkle in confusion. He opened the second one, hoping for a clearer instruction.
Ignore my last message, Cahill, and follow these instructions closely for I do not know when (or whether) I'll be able to contact you again. If you want the little girl and the antidote for the poison, go to the abandoned warehouse near –
"What the –" Dan watched as the text message slowly deleted itself word by word. He acted quickly and remembered the nerdy stuff Amy's ex-boyfriend taught him. When he finally obtained the last few words, he did what any sane person would do.
He threw open one of the jet windows (minutely thinking of that small fact that the window actually opened) and against the slapping pressure of the wind outside, threw his phone out into the dark abyss. Then, he walked over to the empty seat that was supposed to be the co-pilot's and told Ian that there is a slight change in the itinerary.
xxxOOOxxx
"How may we help you?" asked the receptionist, looking as though she wasn't intending on helping her at all. Her desk is littered with back issues of Russian magazines and candy wrappers. The only notepad there is filled some kind of Russian tic-tac-toe or something. The old people everywhere are forlornly looking outside, like they want to get out but this old hag wouldn't let them.
The girl in the plaid mini-skirt swallowed her disgust. She cleared her throat once, not at the very least intimidated by this portly, middle-aged woman. "Uh... You see, I was wondering if Anna Mitlovski –" she started in the most polite tone she could muster.
The receptionist held out an old looking key. "Just look for her files in the room at the far end of that corridor," she yawned hugely, pointing at dimly lit corridor.
There was a moment of awkward and brewing silence after that with the teenager's raised eyebrows and the bored expression of the receptionist. "I thought this was the home for the aged?" the teenage girl asked incredulously.
"What's your point?"
The teenage girl made a face at her, showing how disappointed she was with this garbage place. She harshly snatched the key out of the glaring receptionist and left for the corridor. She saw a dingy door at the end of the it and carefully slid the key into the hole, turning it with a soft click. Her fingers immediately searched the walls on both sides for the switch when she felt a string touch her face. She grabbed hold to it and tugged. A dim yellow light filled the littered room and she let out a sneeze. "When was the last time they cleaned here?" she said irritably, tipping several boxes with her feet as she wove through the dust bunnies and yellowed papers. As she got nearer the metal shelf on the corner, she let out a gasp of surprise. That pendant...
That woman was here.
She shook her head, ignoring the sudden shaking of her fingers. She needs those papers. She needs to know if Anna Mitlovski, the odd and crazed woman who kept on visiting their primary school when they were little, really existed. It was hard to tell. The memories are all muddled, like the misty lights reflected on a river. But if this Anna person did live once, then the childhood they remember had all been part of that woman's lies.
Victoria gripped the metal shelf for support as another huge wave of memories flooded her.
"Alex! Give that back!"
"I don't wanna!"
"Jonathan! Make him give it back!"
"Get it back yourself."
I ran and ran as fast as my little legs could go. That meanie Alex wouldn't return my teddy bear. I huddle myself into a ball behind a huge tree with pretty, colourful leaves. Then, the brown-haired woman with scary, big eyes talks to me.
I sniffle my tears away. "Are you my Mama?"
"No. But you must listen, little girl. This is bad. That woman will use you, just like she used her. Tell darling –"
Then, Mrs. Kudryashov came and shooed her away and she was very angry with me because I talk to strangers and I'm not supposed to do that. Jonathan hit me in the head lightly with his fist and Alex shyly gave me back my teddy bear and said that he was sorry. My little right hand clutched the pretty necklace with a huge pendant that the crazy lady left behind. It's pretty. Maybe my Mama owns something pretty, too. I promise to tell –
Victoria sucked in a sharp intake of breath and immediately regretted it when she coughed up the dust bunnies. "She said something. I should tell her darling somebody something," she bit her lip as frustrated tears formed on the tips of her eyes. "Why can't I remember?" She angrily slammed her fists on the metal shelf.
oooooOooooo
So... What do you guys think? Let me know by filling out those two boxes at the bottom of this page with your insights. XD You, yes you! You, wearing that black shirt and you, eating chocolate. *evil laugh* Not very long this time, huh. Gomen-desu.
Also, you know how Ian suddenly hates me all of a sudden? Like, boiling, deep, passionate hate? Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating... just a little, teeny, tiny bit. But there's a reason for that and you'll see why as we continue with this story. *sweatdrops*
QUESTION of the DAY:
If you could have another identity (like, another self), somebody that you want to be regardless of what other people would think, what kind of person would you be and why?
I'll have to think about that myself, so... Next update, maybe?
"I don't care," Ian declares from somewhere in the room. "I hate you."
Waah!
Read, re-read and review?
Less than three,
AngelicSpring