Blake pov
The more I followed Robby's lead as we snuck around the parking lot, the more ridiculous this all seemed.
Desperate times truly did call for desperate measures as I kept my mouth in order not to make Robby lose his train of thought. One mistake could be detrimental to us keeping our freedom.
"What exactly is yo—" I begin to ask before Keene cuts me off.
"SHHH!" He hisses with a finger to his lips.
I just shake my head and roll my eyes before Robby ducks his head down and I follow suit.
I follow Robby's gaze to a security camera on the corner of the building right above a large metal door. However, the object that catches my attention is the panel to the right of the door.
"Do you know the code?" I whisper.
Robby nods without answering.
"How?" I whisper.
"Shut up," Robby whispers and I exhale annoyed through my nostrils.
I focus on the security camera and slowly see it turn toward the door and away from the car we were currently crouched behind.
"Stay here, don't move," Robby whispers turning his head slightly.
I wanted to question it, but I knew that would only increase our time here and that was the last thing either of us wanted.
Robby quickly dashes toward the metal door and I watch him punch in the code. I was surprised when the door beeped and the lock clicked open.
Robby dashed in and I just waited still in the same crouched position outside. I look at the camera and watch it turn back toward where I was. I duck lower to avoid the gaze of the camera.
Anxiety begins to creep into my chest as Robby doesn't come out for some time. I'm about to dash in there myself when I see a hooded figure peek his head out.
He looks directly at me as if waiting for something. Somehow, I'm able to understand and look back up at the camera through the tinted window.
The seconds feel like an eternity as the camera continues to face toward me. Just when it rotates to face another direction, I signal Robby and he dashes back toward me.
I hear a jingling sound and see Robby pull out a pair of keys.
"Hopefully you at least got us a decent ride," I joke but Robby just glares at me.
"Come on," he whispers unamused.
I follow his lead as he starts clicking buttons on the keys. His first attempts lead to nothing until we hear a faint chirp of a car locking.
This was familiar to me as it was my "go to" method whenever I lost my car in a parking lot. I would continue clicking the lock button until I heard the beep.
I wasn't sure why I expected anything else but we eventually made our way to a 1993 Dodge Caravan.
"Are you kidding me?" I remark annoyed at his choice.
Robby glares at me.
"Shut up and get in or I'm leaving you here," Robby remarks.
I sigh and get in to the passenger seat before Robby gets into the driver's seat and starts the car. I toss my backpack in the back seat before we leave.
"Out of all the cars you could've chosen, you went with this bucket of bolts?" I ask incredulously.
"You think this is a game?!" Robby snaps at me.
I look at him startled.
"Our FREEDOM is on the line and you're concerned with which getaway car we pick?! You said your dad taught you some things, but I'm convinced you're just as much of an idiot as I figured because you'd rather look cool when we're TRYING TO STAY HIDDEN!" Robby yells at me.
I stop to process his outburst. As much as it hurt to admit, Robby was right. This car was a good choice because it wasn't in great condition and no one would miss it. Despite, my pride, I know when I'm wrong.
"You're right. Good thinking," I relent.
Robby scoffs at my complement, but I choose to stay silent until we leave the parking lot and are on the road.
We drive in awkward silence for a while until Robby pulls over in a rather rural area. He glances at me curiously.
"So, you said you had cash, food, and clothes," Robby says.
I open my bag and show him all of the contents with a smug expression.
"If you're planning on ditching me and stealing everything, I'll be sure to let the cops know where you are when they arrest me," I remark with venom.
Robby's expression at my statement is one of deep thought.
"No… a deal's a deal," Robby relents.
I nod and lean into the seat I inhale sharply when my back wound is pressed against the seat. I consider taking a nap, but trusting Robby not to screw me over was not a gamble I was willing to risk despite what he just said.
"So, do you even have a plan?" Robby asks after some silence.
I sigh.
"It's risky, but it might be a solution," I remark after thinking.
"Well, we don't have anything else so let's hear it," Robby says looking me in the eye.
"Think about it, we're two teenagers on the run from the law. You know the stereotypes," I remark.
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Robby asks incredulously.
"Every cop thinks the same thing. That we're two scared children who would simply try and run as far as possible. Causes them to falsely underestimate what we're capable of. I imagine the biggest mystery to them is why we haven't already made obvious mistakes such as using a credit card, using the car I already have, buying a plane ticket, or seeking out my parents. If anything, they assume we'll gun it straight to the border as soon as we're behind a steering wheel, but my plan is to hide in plain sight and let them get ahead of us," I explain.
Robby nods.
"As long as we don't visit anywhere that someone could recognize us, we can hang around the outskirts of the valley in the shadows and let them chase an empty trail," I follow up.
"That… could work. The parts where I'm not sure are gas and your insulin situation," Robby says.
"Let me figure out the insulin problem. For now, cars aren't sold without a full tank of gas so we have enough miles to last us a few days," I rasp out.
We ride in silence for a while after, by the time we stop, we've pulled over at a rural area surrounded by woods. In order not to waste fuel, we crack the windows and turn off the car.
"You can have the trunk. I'll take the back seat," Robby offers.
While the back had a more comfortable seat, the trunk had more room so I was willing to accept his proposition. I go to lay in the trunk without a blanket and use my backpack as a pillow.
Thanks to my still stinging back, I'm forced to sleep on my stomach which I don't mind all that much, but tossing and turning will result in a sharp burst of pain.
I begin pondering ways to get a new tube of insulin. I can't exactly pick up a prescription without revealing myself. I also know that once they find out I'm wounded, they'll put up wanted posters on hospitals. The pondered possible locations that would have wanted posters would be hospitals, airports, bus stations, gas stations, and maybe even pharmacies.
I decide to relax and shut my eyes. I knew I'd need the rest and missing my bed wouldn't get me anywhere. Just as homesickness starts to creep in, my eyes grow heavy and I feel myself doze off.
Third person pov
"Sir, media is ready," a woman dressed in a blue strapless dress with a cardigan draped around her shoulders remarked.
"Thank you," the Detective remarked as he stood up from his office chair and went to glance in the mirror.
He fixed his tie and ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair. He'd been ready for this since he'd gotten the reports from the fight.
The first thing he noticed was the blinding lights from flashing cameras as he stood at the front steps of the Los Angeles Precinct.
"After numerous reports regarding the fight, parents the San Fernando Valley are desperate to see the individuals who endangered their children in their place of education brought to justice. That's where I come in," The Detective remarks with confidence glancing between the various cameras filming the press conference.
"I would like to explain the mind of the escaped man. The shadows are his friend, the night his domain. The fugitive knows that whatever mindset resulted in committing the original crime is magnified by fight and flight. The sounds of dogs at his heels. Fear becomes paranoia, paranoia ultimately psychosis. In this specific case, two teenagers made a choice the moment they decided the desire to fight was more important than the law," The Detective Agent reports.
"Excuse me, detective McCarthy?" A woman in the crowd holding a microphone to the steps shouts.
He looks in her direction.
"Reports say that you were not assigned, but chose to spearhead the manhunt for Blake Murphy and Robby Keene," the woman remarks.
The detective agent's eyebrows raise. He had his reasons.
"Your reports would be correct. While I am a man of the law who's dedicated my life to keeping the state of California safe, Murphy's display of violence in the very building where my son gets his education came as quite a shock to me. Now, not only as a police officer, but also as a father, my mission is to ensure that my son along with the promising youth of the San Fernando Valley attend a safe and criminal free high school. The only way to do that is to make sure he's behind bars," Agent McCarthy responds doing his best not to let his anger show.
The crowd erupted into cheers and clapped at his statement and he knew he'd won them over. This was more personal than met the eye, but the less anyone knew, the better.
He wrapped up the press conference and sank back down into his office chair. He glanced at the investigation board with photos of Blake Murphy and Robby Keene staring back at him.
"Sir," a fellow agent with glasses barges into his office.
Detective McCarthy was slightly startled at the sudden entrance, but quickly regained his composure.
"Detective Michaels, you do NOT enter my office unless you are summoned!" Agent McCarthy remarked.
The only man with clearance was his captain. Detective McCarthy had been recently promoted and wanted to make sure everyone knew it.
"My apologies, but a report came this afternoon of a boy leaving a Forever 21 store matching Robby Keene's description," Michaels remarks.
The Detective Agent nods, but he was more concerned with Murphy. Keene was merely a side quest for him. He wanted Blake Murphy dead to rights in handcuffs.
"Thanks for sharing that, but what's the latest on Murphy?" McCarthy asks.
Michaels furrows a brow in confusion. This was valuable information.
"He was reported to have boarded a bus a few hours after fleeing from the high school. A lady claimed she'd seen an individual matching his description exit a bus near downtown. However, that was the last sighting. The trail has gone cold now," the detective remarks.
McCarthy sighs in frustration before telling the other detective to get back to work. Once he was alone in the office, McCarthy slowly walked over to the stoic photograph of Murphy. The boy had a distant scowl on his face.
Flashes of his son James returning from the hospital with his left wrist in a cast swam through the detective agent's mind as he roughly tore the photograph of Blake off of the board and crumpled it into a ball. He took a few deep breaths to regain his footing and sat at his desk to write a report.
A list of names his secretary and other officers had discovered after gathering information on the teenager. People he'd interview for information. Starting with their third criminal who had only escaped jail time as a result of her dying mother.
He presses a button on his desk to alert his assistant.
"Clear my schedule for the afternoon. I need to pay a visit to Victoria Nichols," McCarthy voices into the intercom.
Authors note: Sorry for the long wait. I have been insanely busy and had to take a break because I lost interest for a while. I knew if I wrote a story I wasn't as passionate about, it would not be as good as you all deserve, but I'm back now and ready to deliver season 3 of the Murphyverse main series.
I hope you guys are excited for detective agent McCarthy. I based him a lot off of Alexander Mahone from Prison Break and even think of William Fichtner as a great actor for this role.