Rice Paper

I spent the next two weeks on the run. I didn't know where I could go. I was afraid to contact anyone I knew, in case it got them killed. I Spent most of my time locked up in hotel rooms, or sometimes hiding in campsites, thinking on the puzzle. It took me about two days worth of googling to figure it out. Turns out, the key was more than a literal key, it was also the key to the code. You probably saw it, the number seventeen carved into the face of it. It turns out it was a stupid simple code, offset the alphabet by seventeen digits, and it gives you:

4844 West Jefferson Boulevard, Los Angeles,

I admit, I spent a lot of those two weeks stalling. I was scared of what I was supposed to do. I also didn't know What to be looking for. Not to mention, if this was such a complicated mystery, why was the clue i was given so simple? It made me nervous, was it actually some sort of trap? I couldn't stop worrying.

So, instead of going to the address, I spent my time researching, or going to the bank. I Went to the bank as often as I could, pulling out the ATM limit every day. I'd try to find ATMs that didn't have an internet connection, so that I could pull out the daily limit more than once. I knew it was only a matter of time before my accounts were locked out. They finally did lock it up on the fifth of July, I had pulled out 3300 dollars cash. It was almost all of my savings anyway, but it still didn't seem like much. However, with all of my money pulled out, I realized I had run out of excuses.

It didn't keep me from stalling a few more days. I took my time, planning it out, I drove past the place once a day for three days and worried. Finally, on the eighth of July, I made my move.

I waited until nighttime to enter the building. I Approached by the back door, it was a security door with a big fat lock. Just as I had suspected, the lock was operated by the number seventeen key. I realize I keep saying this, but I still couldn't believe what I was doing. The building was a manufacturing shop, with a showroom in the front. They made japanese rice-paper doors. I got inside, and locked the door behind me, looking around the shop.

Then my phone rang.

My ringtone was incredibly loud, and scared the ever-loving shit out of me. I answered it quickly, just to shut it up. It was Natalie Emory, a girl I knew from my last job. We had had a thing going on a while back, but things never really picked up. It was weird for her to be calling me, apparently she had heard that I had gone missing, and since I hadn't answered my phone when anyone else had called, she thought she'd add her number to the list of people trying. I thanked her and tried to get out of the conversation, but she kept going. Apparently, she had been thinking about me, and wondered why things never really clicked with us. relationship stuff, in the middle of a burglary, great. Then I heard another voice, Detective Ingram took the phone and began to speak:

"Congratulations, Allen, you've really done it now. I have some terrible news for you, Allen. There are people coming to where you are. Don't bother trying to run, Allen. They are already outside" Lights flashed across the front windows of the building, and I began to panic. "Allen, I'm sorry about this." Then I heard the phone change hands, and Natalie was speaking again. She was crying. "I'm so sorry Allen, I'm so sorry!" Then- a single gunshot, and the phone disconnected.

Then I heard loud noises from outside, shouts, and then I smelled gasoline, and I knew what their plan was. I scrambled to find what it was I needed. I didn't know what I was looking for, scrambling around the building at full speed, running through mazes of japanese screens, I tripped through a showroom, and noticed a set of screens enclosing a corner. I rushed over to it, trying to pull it loose, but it was attached securely. The flames began at that moment, rushing from the front of the building, moving toward me. As the flames approached, I kicked the screen in, stabbing myself in the leg with a piece of the frame, and breaking it off in the process. Then I looked inside the screen and saw what I hoped I was there for: a small metal suitcase. I grabbed the suitcase and limped as quickly as I could to the back door of the building, trailing blood behind me. I fumbled at the door to un-lock it, and cursed at myself as the screens behind me began to blaze. It's hard to describe that kind of heat, even firefighters don't really know, covered in their suits. I managed to get the door open, and looked both directions. It was a narrow alley, and they had posted guards at either end. I decided to hop the fence across the alley, and aim for a main street. I wound up on exposition, across from some baseball fields. I limped to my right to my car, and drove away as fast as I could.

About half an hour of driving later, and I had to stop. the pain in my leg was overwhelming, and I knew I had to get the wood out of there, if I was going to prevent infection. I did it myself in the back of my car, using my leatherman knife to cut it loose, and the pliers to pull it out. about two inches of wood in my leg, not very deep, but very rough. It was lucky that I had parked in the middle of nowhere, because partway trough my "surgery" I woke up with the sun rising. I had blacked out while cutting out the stick. I finished pulling it out, and bandaged it up as well as I could. Then I started driving again. Just looking for someplace to hide.