Spy Mage System

266 Wandering

One thing I can say for sure not to do is ever drive in New York. It’s a pain in the behind to deal with all the traffic that’s slowing you down.

How am I supposed to treat a critical wound, if traffic keeps occurring? It’s annoying having to hear consistent honking from other cars. It’s an absolute pain in the behind, and to all my Yorkers out there, you know it too.

I began to inch towards the pharmacy. All I had to do was to go out the exit, make a turn to the right, and keep straight until I arrived at my destination.

It’s simple.

But traffic decided to go three feet per hour, and it was harder than I expected it to be. Slowly, I began to make it to the exit, until I could speed my way down to the main road.

More—just a little bit more.

The second I hit the border between the highway and the drive down to the main road, the speed climbed and I went down and arrived at the intersection.

As I listed before, I drove my way through the road before turning to the right and then going straight before arriving at the pharmacy.

I think it was CVS Pharmacy, but to be honest, I don’t remember.

.....

I pulled up into the parking lot. I parked, quickly left the car, and rushed inside the hospital, while keeping my jacket folded to cover the bleeding wound.

I’m not trying to make any trails for the TSA to follow, especially with a pharmacy.

I ran inside, with only two things in my mind: rubbing alcohol, and bandages.

Quickly, I went into the aisle, trying to see any signs that might indicate those two things. I went into one aisle and searched around.

Nothing showed up so far, but I did find something that piqued my interest.

I grabbed a little snack that was in front of a wooden desk with a white top, then I returned to my search.

Anyways, back to what I said.

I looked around, and all of a sudden, I saw alcohol on one of the aisles, and my eyes sparkled with excitement.

I quickly made my way toward it, and I fetched it before proceeding to the desk I just came from. A woman with brown hair and a red tucked-in shirt saw my incoming presence.

She didn’t give a wave for some reason, but that isn’t my biggest concern. “Put them here,” she said, tapping the space inside of the wooden square painted on the desk.

I put them there, as she scanned them. She tapped a punch of random buttons on her computer, in which she leaned out and said, “$20.11.”

I got out that exact amount of money, in which she grabbed it and continued tapping her fingers on the monitor before she leaned out again and asked, “Receipt?”

“Yes, please.”

As she gave me the receipt, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. The person quickly rushed behind a bush, in which I turned around, with no sight of him.

Where did he go? And why did he—or maybe she—hide behind a bush?

Being the state of my mind right now, paranoia kicked in and I immediately assumed that it was the TSA. The beat in my chest increased rapidly, as I frantically looked around, just to see if more spies were lurking around in the area.

Slowly, I headed towards the door, and I exited the pharmacy before I set my goal straight for my vehicle.

I quickly ran towards there, looking around continuously to spot any more spies. But there were none. It was slowly but increasingly becoming an option that it was maybe just a squirrel.

I opened the door and closed it in relief. I quickly reached for the bandage inside the grocery bag and I pulled out the bandage.

After ripping away the package, I then straightened out the bandage and lifted my shirt. I wrapped it around the wound, and it was slowly beginning to feel less painful, which I knew was a good thing.

After the last bandage strip wrapped around my rib, I lowered my shirt and turned on the vehicle.

Next, find a place to eat. Mom always told me to save money since I got my first allowance. I barely bought much, and clearly, that’s paid off.

“Where’s the nearest diner…” I muttered silently to myself. Once I found the nearest one, I pulled away from the parking lot and made my way there.

It was a very silent drive, almost more silent than I could bear. I was trying to imagine the others in here, talking and laughing—or being offensive to one another as we usually are.

I’ve never missed them so much.

And Mom—who has no clue of what’s happening to me—and is probably so worried right now. I miss her. I miss them.

I saw this diner, which looked as if it was made from scraps, towards the side of me. That must’ve been the location. The little sound effect rang, indicating that I was at my destination.

I pulled inside and parked right in front of the diner. I turned off the vehicle, exited the car, and walked towards the diner.

As I opened the door, the faint music from that one radio at the corner of the wall, the three tables and the three booths at the corner, the white floor, and the wooden walls were what I noticed once I entered inside.

There were two men, both with black hats, red shirts, and black aprons.

“Welcome to Joey and Jack’s Diner, what do you want for today?” one of them asked.

I chuckled. “Uh—”

“Are your parents with you?” one of them asked. I shook my head. “They allow me to do this.”

They nodded slowly before one of them exited from behind their desk and walked up to me, and led me to my seat ahead.

It was at the corner of the diner, and it had red puffy seats that stretched the entire area.

I took a seat as the man left and went back inside the kitchen. The place smelled like lavender and dirt, which is a weird mixture. It is the smell of something very pleasant, mixed with the smell of something revolting.

Time continued to pass as I looked at the menu. Being in this diner reminded me of that time when we planned to put a tracker on Luthor Bane, and Greg was with me and the whole team.

Good times—good times.

I looked ahead to see if the guys were coming, which they weren’t, but it didn’t bother me that much. I continued to examine the menu for something I liked, and the man came once I was done.

It was as if they were monitoring me until I finished searching through the menu.

I gave them the answer to what I wanted, to which the man nodded and walked away. Once he entered the kitchen, I could hear him calling out my order.

I’ve never heard anyone do that before, only because I’m usually far away from the kitchen or there are so many other orders, I’ve already missed mine.

As I looked around, I found my eyes wandering around the place, which was exactly what I was doing right now. Wandering. Not sure where to go or where to even stay. Not sure what to do next. But just looking around, trying to survive in this crowded city. I was homeless, and I was trying to search for my way home, but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

All I can do right now is just wander and try to survive for a few days.

But then, I heard the door open, and a girl—maybe my age walked in. The man who took my order looked up front, and he seemed somewhat surprised.

“Oh, well—hello,” he said with a little chuckle. “How do you do?”

“Fine, you?” she asked. She was a mixed-race girl, although a bit more on the white side. She almost looked like Nikki, but she had smooth, silk hair instead of the braids Nikki usually has.

She was wearing a jean jacket with a green shirt which I’m pretty sure was a long-sleeve. She wore blue jeans and had these high-top Nike shoes which I do have to say—were looking fine.

“Well, ma’am, I’m a bit tired, but I still can work for another day!” he said, his voice shooting higher at the last part. She chuckled, and she then looked in my direction.

Now, being the introvert I am, I was hugely uncomfortable for no certain reason once I saw her look at me.

I slowly scooted to the corner, hoping the chair in front of me would block my view. But as I did, she suddenly walked towards my corner and took a seat across from me.

The nervousness that was pumping inside of me was almost too much to bear. But she let out her first greeting, “Hello.”