"That's fine with me. And this trip will be on the company's dime, right?" he asked, tongue in cheek.

Jonathan rose and with a smile, told him he wouldn't bother addressing his question with a response.

2:00 PM.

Both.e.l.l, Washington Ian stood a few feet from the bleachers at the Both.e.l.l High School football field. The new year's team started practice early that day and despite it only being practice drew a modest crowd. He wasn't ever an athlete and had only attended one game in his high school career, which never bothered or concerned him before, yet he found himself somewhat nostalgic and regretful at the same time while he watched the would-be students and athletes.

He looked at his old high school in the background and reflected on the teachers and cla.s.ses and friends he had there. The memories were fresh in his mind two months earlier but somehow he felt that they had begun to dissolve. Things became blurry and all he could help to recall those fleeing memories were events and names; faces and places were foggy at best.

Two of his old friends approached him; one was a heavily over weight ex-jock who still wore his lettermen's jacket with an enormous state patch across his back. His voice boomed over all of the chatter from the fans on the benches, "IAN! Ian, why are you still here? I thought you were gonna be all the way on the other side of the world by now."

Ian grinned and waited until his two friends met him at the edge of the bleachers, "I'm not leaving until later this month. But I know that you knew that Coop, I've already told you about the party."

Coop laughed much louder than he needed to and always seemed to draw unneeded attention to the trio. He grinned and nudged the skinny young man who accompanied him, "Wally, you've gotta remind me of this kind of stuff. You're way smarter than me."

Wally brushed Coop off and replied, "No, you're just too lazy to keep track of things. If you spent less time getting plastered and read a book for once in your life maybe you wouldn't feel so dumb."

"I do read Wally," Coop stopped him. "I read plenty of comic books."

"And that's wonderful, but try reading some American literature instead." Wally left the matter and asked Ian, "The party's on the twenty-fourth right? Are we going to need some special VIP pa.s.ses or a code word or a hand sign to get in?"

Ian rolled his eyes and told them they would be on the guest list.

"Thanks, but seriously Ian, what are you doing here? I would have thought you'd be packing or something better than watching some high school football team practice."

"I just felt like taking one last look around here before I left," Ian told him.

Wally looked around and mumbled, "I'm not sure what's so memorable about this place...h.e.l.l, I wish I was the one getting out of this town."

"Then why don't you?"

Wally shook his head, "I don't know...Probably because I don't really know where I'd want to go or what I'd want to do. The world's a d.a.m.n big place and pinpointing where you want to live isn't a simple thing."

Ian looked at Coop and asked, "What about you?"

Coop only grinned. "Why would I want to leave? It's so easy here."

Wally rolled his eyes, "You'll be in for a real shock once everyone starts moving on with their lives."

Coop laughed, "We'll see."

Ian smiled and told his friends he would see them later and left for the school. He walked into the main building and half expected to see a steady flow of students bustling from cla.s.s to cla.s.s. It was deserted though, which gave an alien feeling to the long and hollow corridors. He walked along silently while he peered in the windows at the dark and empty rooms until he reached the cla.s.sroom where he had taken his final English course.

His old teacher sat behind a desk and didn't even notice Ian's entrance. Victor pored over notes in a copy of Ordinary People and notes in a separate notebook. Ian finally cleared his throat to signal his presence.

Victor looked up and grinned, "I didn't take you for the sentimental type Ian."

"You'd be right normally, but I guess when your window of opportunity is closing you generally want one last look." Ian glanced at the floor and then back at his old teacher. "I'm moving to London in a few weeks."

He looked at Ian and asked what made him want to relocate.

Ian took a breath and shook his head, "I don't know what I'm going to do if I stay here," he told him. "I just feel like I need to get out of here and move on with my life before I'm stuck here forever."

Victor nodded, "I know how you feel. Does the idea of remaining here indefinitely bother you?"

"Yes." Ian scowled, "It's not like I hate it here, I just don't want to end up here forever. I'd rather be off in London and work at a dead end job knowing I made it somewhere beyond Both.e.l.l Washington."

Victor chuckled and told him he felt the same way once. "That's why I left for a year when I was younger."

"I know, I read your book. But you never said why you came back."

Victor set his work aside and told him that the world he longed for was exactly the same beyond Both.e.l.l. "I realized that no matter where I went, my life would ultimately be the same mundane journey, just in another land. But the one thing, the only thing that gave me reason to return was my family. Paul had lost his job and hadn't managed to find work for a while. Nick was too young to step in and provide for the family, and I would have been ashamed to leave my mother to work a full time job when I was fully capable of working in her stead. I knew that they needed me more than the world did, so I abandoned my adventure and settled down, more or less."

Ian frowned, "I guess I never really considered any good reasons for staying..."

Victor smiled, "Maybe you'll find reasons to come back after you've left. Either way, you're not going to be able to appreciate here until you're elsewhere."

Ian agreed. Victor told him he needed to leave for a meeting in Seattle and gathered his things. They walked toward the main entrance to continue their conversation, though they stopped when someone who walked through those double doors neared them. The young man wore a black tee-shirt with Led Zeppelin printed on it and a pair of blue jeans. He wore his brown hair short, had a tattoo of a snake on his right forearm, and carried a silver Colt M1911 in his hand.

They stopped. Victor frowned asked, confused, "Nick?"

Nick took aim and shot Victor twice, once through the chest and a second time through his stomach. He looked at Ian, slowly aimed the gun at him, and nearly fired off another round when an administrator heard the shots and rushed out to investigate. Nick turned his gun on the man, killed him, and by the time he turned back to attack Ian, Ian had fled.

2:35 PM.

Both.e.l.l, Washington "Jordan? It's Rachel, just wondering where you are. I'm waiting for you at Stipek Park...you said you'd meet me here, but I don't see you. Call me, bye." Rachel hung up and let out a breath.

She sat in the middle of the park on a sweltering day in black jeans and a black and gray striped long sleeved shirt. Whatever possessed her to wear that sort of outfit on that type of day was beyond her, and all Rachel knew was that she desperately needed to consider the weather before she selected her outfit for the day.

The park she sat in was relatively small, though lively at the same time. On her right was a basketball court where a small pickup game was held and next to that was an area full of play equipment where children played under the supervision of their parents. To the left of her was an open field where a make-shift baseball game was going on. However, since the field was so near the road the players tried to mind the street and avoid any interaction with the pa.s.sing cars. Twenty people played the game and another fifteen sat nearby and watched.

Her cell phone vibrated. She saw it was Jordan and answered, "Where are you?"

Jordan apologized and told her he was all the way out in Wenatchee. "I completely forgot about today and agreed to join some buds from school to make a run out here for some supplies."

Rachel scowled and with a bitter sigh forgave him. "Just call me once you're back so we can do something, alright?"

"Sure." He hesitated a moment after realizing his error and asked whether there was anything she wanted him to get her. "They've got premium stuff out here you know. I can get pretty much whatever we need from this guy I know."

She told him she would manage and left their conversation there. Rachel hung up and cursed under her breath. She stowed her phone in her pocket and sat glaring at the ground.

"Pardon me, but would you mind if I sat here with you?"

Rachel glanced up at a young man who seemed roughly her age. He smiled and wore a dark gray sweater, clean, iron pressed black slacks, and the young man had a deep olive colored pack slung over his shoulder. His hair was well kept and medium length.

She couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you dying out here wearing all of that today? It's nearly ninety-five degrees out."

He smirked, "I could ask you the same thing." She gave her permission and he joined her on the wooden bench. The young man then asked if she was a student at the local high school. "You see, I'm an exchange student and I'm trying to become acquainted with as many possible familiar faces as I can."

"Where are you from?"

"Romania."

"Uhh...where is that?" she asked, embarra.s.sed.

He only smiled, "It is in Europe, north of Greece and west of the Black Sea."

"So do you speak Romanian then?"

"Yes, however I was raised bilingual so I should not have any problems talking to anyone, aside from my accent that is."

"It's hardly noticeable."

"Well thank you."

"Have you registered for your cla.s.ses yet?" she asked.

"No, your princ.i.p.al told me that I would register on the twenty-fourth of August."

"Oh. Well, who are you staying with? Maybe I know them."

"It's actually a rotational stay, so I move around every few months...and I have to admit that I do not remember their names," he admitted.

"Don't worry, it's not that important to me. I was just wondering if I knew them."

A cool wind blew over them and with it a calm. Rachel began to relax as she saw her newfound friend relax as well. He began to recline in his seat and became less rigid than he was at the start of their conversation. It made her smile to think that she might actually intimidate or unnerve him.

She asked him, "What kind of cla.s.ses are you interested in taking?"

"English for sure," he said. "I am not really interested in math or science, but I think I might take a writing or a literature course." He paused a moment before he inquired, "What cla.s.ses would you recommend?"

Rachel told him what she planned on taking "I'm taking an advanced art cla.s.s, which allows us to focus on whatever medium we want. Are you into art?"

"Err...if you mean do I like art, then yes. Do you think I might be accepted into that course?"

She shrugged, "If you're decent then probably. Do you paint, sketch, or sculpt?"

"I have done all of those at one time or another, however my preferred method is painting." He paused for a moment to retrieve a small leather bound book. He showed her a few pictures of a small village with a castle in the background that he had sketched.

She was shocked at his skill and the level of detail in his work. "h.e.l.l, this is fantastic. Why don't you draw more? You're really good."

"I simply enjoy painting more. The ability to breathe emotion, life, and mood into canvas is simply more exhilarating that way, to me at least," he explained. "When I paint I feel like I am able to show everyone what truly exists throughout the earth. Through painting I can better express what is dwelling within myself as well."

"Okay..." Rachel said, unable to precisely grasp his meaning.

Droplets of rain fell from the abruptly dark heavens. Rachel was startled to find the sudden change. "When did that happen?" she asked openly.

The boy looked up to discover a dark blanket of clouds which covered the heavens. "I have no idea...is this common here?" he asked, concerned.

She shook her head, "Not at this time of year. Not to mention how quick that was...that's just weird."

Rain poured down and doused them both. The young man retrieved his book from her, returned it to its place within his bag, and removed a small black umbrella which he used to shield her from the rain.

"Thanks..."

He handed it to her and said, "I must be going, but please take that with you,"

"No, don't worry, I'll be fine. You can have it back," she returned it to him, and folded her arms in an attempt to avoid shaking.

"Are you certain you do not want it?"

"Yeah," she looked over her shoulder, "I only live a few minutes from here, so I'll be fine."

The boy held it over her head, "Take it. You will need it more than I will, and please do not try and return it to me again."

She bit her lip, and asked, "You're sure it's alright?"

The boy only nodded and smiled, "I will be going now, but I hope we can talk again soon." He left without another word as a thick fog began to acc.u.mulate around the park. Rachel watched the young Romanian leave and soon found herself trying to follow after him. She only walked a few feet before she realized what she was doing. Rachel fidgeted in place momentarily before she pursued the stranger. Once she reached the street at the end of the park she peered through the mist to find nothing but shadows, mist, and rain. The mysterious figure she lost in the fog could not be found.

3:37 PM.

Lynnwood, Washington Nick sat on his bed with his back against the wall. The rain crashed into his window and afforded him some form of comfort. He listened to The Battle of Evermore through an old stereo he kept on his desk, something his brother once tried to throw out but Nick wouldn't allow him to discard. The right speaker didn't work at all, but Nick didn't care so long as he could listen to something to drowned out the world whenever he needed some relief.

He fished his cell phone out of his jeans pocket to check the time before he got up and left his room. Nick walked into the kitchen to grab a black garbage sack and then he headed into the living room where his stepfather slept. An old western movie Nick didn't recognize played while he cleaned up the discarded microwave dinner containers, the beer bottles, Paul's dozens of cigarette b.u.t.ts and the accompanying ash, and also dirty plates and other kitchenware. Nick took the garbage out into their garage and set it inside the appropriate green bin. A strong and sudden gust of wind smashed into the garage door and startled Nick. He took a minute to regain his nerves and finally returned inside. The blast roused Paul, who rose from his chair and headed past Nick toward the bathroom. Nick kept his eyes low as they pa.s.sed. He retreated into his room and turned his music down.

Paul signaled his leave from the bathroom with the flush of the toilet and proceeded to wander into the kitchen. Nick listened quietly for Paul to open the fridge and retrieve a beer, but the doorbell interrupted the ritual. Paul answered the door and Nick crept out of his room to eavesdrop.

"This is the Jacobs residence?"

"Yeah, what are you here for?" Paul asked.

The man at the door hesitated, but finally came out and said, "Your son Victor's been killed."

Nick froze. His hands shook and tears flooded his eyes. He tried to remain standing but fell to the ground and wept quietly as Paul continued to talk with the police officer about the details of the incident.

The officer explained, "He was shot twice at Both.e.l.l High School, as was the school's princ.i.p.al."

Paul cursed and asked, "Do you know who killed him?"

"No, unfortunately we don't have many leads or ideas as no one witnessed the incident." There was a pause though Nick didn't hear it over his sobs, but the officer continued, "I have to ask, do you know of anyone who would have wanted to kill your son?"

Paul shook his head, "Who the h.e.l.l would want to? He was an English teacher. Unless it was some b.a.s.t.a.r.d kid he taught who he gave a s.h.i.tty grade to, otherwise I don't know who killed him."