Mission Control

Chapter 46: Mission Control

 

 

 

 

            Trevor had put the pedal down and has sat on his bed considering what he might know now. Not to mention there was talk on the radio of car crashes in apartment complex. He wasn’t the least aghast. Neither of the locations he’d heard had any suitable information for him. They were distinctly in the north side of the city and they were talking about how one guy got hit with an SUV and bowled over. That wasn’t at the apartments. The one that was there involved a woman with a small sedan and apparently she backed into a two-seater that was somewhere in the $200,000 dollar bracket. He’d sorted all the evidence and went ahead with his decision. He broke out of his room and stuffed fifty dollars in his pocket, sitting down in the kitchen looking through his phone. The cold bulky wood in the way of the dining table was a place for Trevor to grab ahold of himself. Just shy of four hours later, he set away for the second time in the night. Ready to face whatever had the resolute to stand in the way, recovering the previous events if they even could be. “I took a right here.” He told himself, and began driving down a highway he’d been down once.

           

He kept straight through the highway until he reached the train tracks. He went left after reaching them. The farther he went on this dark road or lane highway, whatever it was, the more the surroundings dulled and grayed. He took a turn and it made him pair-off into a two-way section. He dismissed any inclination that the road looked like anything other than that. The way it did before he knew it. They were at the top of a gradual slope that forced you to come to a stop at the exchange of the roadway at the top. He was getting to a strip with no lights again, he shut-down the A/C and flipped on the high beams, the trees got dense and he left off any thought of going back. Trevor waited until he reached an intersection with stores to come to a halt and do some directing. Something internally told him to go left here. Crossing where he would suspect the tracks were laid. Though he didn’t catch any sightings of them, he did know he was on another road. A different road. Not a highway, as well. It lead flat-out to a multitude of other two-wide ones, and a business here and there. Trevor was somewhat going to the way back to his city. But, he just identified with nothing here. He continued past legions of houses and pulled-off at a gas station at the end of that road. Nothing could take his eyes off either direction. Looking right and then left again. He chose right and sped off to the way of a field of crops on his right-hand side. The amount of time it took for him to find a proper left turn was over an hour. He was getting listless, but took that left and the road name he recognized. He burned down it and came across the place in front of the highway that went to his house. He broke on to the highway and went south. Coming up on the major city and couldn’t think of another way to go, but this was the outside barrier of where the two-apartment places had been, the other one. He retracked to the left at a certain light and it put him on a major city street. The area was well lit and also somewhat burly constructed. The roadway was nice and probably more like a safe piece in this puzzle. He turned around at the turn-pike, and made his way back to the highway. He turned back right, knowing it was the way he’d taken. He had to have missed something. A turn? Or maybe, a landmark to see that he didn’t. Encouraging himself to head back. There was a moment he fret he did have somewhere to find. The idea in his mind that there was a trace he could follow had to be satiated. So, he paired his directive with that of the apartment complex route that he faced today. Instead finding the other parkway he went into a warehouse beside the second place apartments, and stayed there with the car running. The lot sided on the left side of the road, but hidden back in the shadow of the apartments. He had a collection of thought, and came to a stop. Holding the keys in his hand while he pressed the phone for messages. Scrolling over the letters in the range of A-J. He clutched the underside of the phone, keeping at bay the interjection to call Jamie, or David. For that matter, he would come up with a plan, and the entire lifeline and answer would become known to him. He made a call to ask the house to let him stay late tonight. No answer. He left a message.