Sorry for the lack of chapters. School is stupid. I won't be able to write this weekend because of vacation stuff. But I'll be back Monday with chapter 11 (hopefully)!
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James is shaking for two reasons. First reason is because he’s never driven a car before, and he really hopes he doesn’t end up crashing and killing both himself and Abby. The second reason is because of the overload of information he had just regained in a matter of seconds. Abby noticed the nervous look James was wearing, and now is beginning to feel a bit concerned. After they went a while without flying off a cliff however, she begins to calm down.
“So, what happened back there?” she asks carefully.
“Oh, I just saw the man near the car and decided it was our best and fastest method of getting away from-” Abby cuts him off.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. What’s gotten you so jittery? You’ve been like this since you turned the ignition.” James is silent for a moment. Then, he begins to explain what he saw.
“When I looked in the rear view mirror, I remembered some things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Who I was, who my family was. What life was like before we ended up here. Basically my entire past had been ripped from my mind, and now it’s been shoved back in.”
“Oh. I see.” Other than the rattle of the engine, nothing makes any noise. Abby decides to attempt to start conversation again.
“Well, maybe if you started talking about it, it would help you to process.” James considers this. After a few seconds, he decides to give it a go.
“Okay, we’ll try that.” James takes a deep breath. “So, I have a mother, father, and older sister. My sister is named Hayley, and went off to college four years ago. A year later, my mom, Janet, divorced my father, David.” James smiles a bit. He’s glad he got to live with his dad. “My dad got custody of me, and I went to live with him in the three story house he bought in Chicago. My mom got ownership of our old house in Maine. I go to visit her every other weekend. My dad and I go to this pizza joint called PepperToni’s Pizza, which is across the street from a park that I would go to regularly after school up until last year.” He smiles again, remembering how cheesy the name is. “Most days we have food delivered from various Chinese food places, and fast food restaurants, but we went to PepperToni’s every Sunday to eat and watch whatever sports game was on. We always sit in the same booth, the second to last one on the front left side of the restaurant. Every time we go there, we get two pizzas, one cheese and one pepperoni. We always bring home the leftovers and eat them for lunch until they go bad or we finish them off, the latter of which has only happened on two occasions.” Abby looks at him in awe for a moment. James continues to stare at the street ahead of them.
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“Wow, that’s quite a bit of information,” she says finally. “That all came back to you at once?” James just nods his head, and continues to drive.
*bing bing*
James looks down at the dashboard. The light next to the gas meter is on. He’s almost out of fuel.
Looking back up, he notices a small building on the side of the road, a few hundred yards away. It’s almost not even a building, just a flat single story square structure that couldn’t have been more than a couple yards wide.
“Well, we’re out of gas,” he tells Abby. “Good news is,” he points to the building, “that place looks like a nice place to spend the night. What do you say?” Abby nods in approval, and James pulls carefully onto the small gravel road leading off to the building. As he draws nearer, he notices a man and a woman standing in the way, both with white hair that the headlights illuminate. The woman holds a clipboard in one hand. The man is pointing a rifle at the car.
“Stop!” he yells. James doesn’t argue. The car comes to a rest 30 feet away from the two.
“Exit the vehicle now!” the man orders. Abby and James look at each other, then slowly open the car doors and step out, with their hands above their heads. The man and woman look over the two for a second, and then they both realize something.
“Come with us,” the man says firmly, rifle still trained on the two. The woman handcuffs both of them, except she uses a sort of block with two holes instead of standard handcuffs that the police use. When James’s hands are forced into these holes, they each collapse to fit his hands exactly, making it impossible to pull his hands out through the holes that are now the size of his wrist at the opening. The woman then traps Abby’s hands in an identical block, and the man and woman lead them toward the building.