Submerged: The Mer Chronicles

Drop Off- Part 2

The truck came to a halt.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, trying not to sound like a scared little girl, but the sight of the police station made me uneasy.

Calvin shot me a sad glance; once again looking like was being forced to do something he didn’t want to do. His movements were slow, taking his time, like he didn’t want to go and talk to the cops any more than I did.

“Come on, this is the safest way for me to get you home. Just go with it, remember?”

He climbed out of the cab of the truck and I followed after him, slamming the door behind me. He was really leading me inside the cop station. My every footstep forward was in disbelief. How could this really be the plan? Did his Dad tell him to drop me off with the cops or did he come up with this plan all on his own? And surely this wasn’t the test? It was a stupid one if that was his plan. I had a wiretap on for heavens sake. There was no way I was going to tell the cops the whole truth. As soon as I was released, the Aramours could find me. And what could the cops do even if I told them the truth?

A girl kidnapped because she can talk to sea monsters? They’d send me for a psych evaluation in no time. The entire story sounded made up. The cops would sooner believe that there was a crazy family still searching for Atlantis and that a girl wrapped up in the middle of that search found her way into their station.

“Calvin, there’s got to be another way.... Are you sure?”

He gave me a grim smile. “We don’t have another choice.”

My body was covered in bruises; it was going to look like I was attacked, which was true. If I ever needed my newly found ability to lie to kick in, it was now.

Calvin pushed open the police station door. A large women sat behind a desk, looking bored as she sipped on her coffee, and flipped through a copy of People magazine. Glass separated us, and I wondered if it was bulletproof. Not that the woman could have done anything if someone came in with a gun, she was clearly not in shape, as her bottom portion spilled over most of the tiny swivel chair.

She continued to stare downwards, not even acknowledging that we were there. Calvin rapped on the glass and she slowly looked up. She looked from him to me, placing down her magazine.

She tilted her head to the side, looking like we were inconveniencing her. “Can I help you?”

 “Yeah. How do you file a report?”

“Who needs to file? You or her?” she said, pointing a chubby finger with a long red nail at me.

“Her, I guess. She was wandering around the parking lot outside Wal-Mart looking like this. Wouldn’t let me take her to the hospital, and she started running when I pulled out my phone to call for help... She asked that I bring her here.”

“I’ll get an officer down here to talk to her.” She paused and looked at me.  “You have any I.D. on you?”

I shook my head. 

She lifted her chin, giving me a go figure type-of-look. “While you wait, you might want to take a look at these.” She pushed several brochures at me from under the glass. All had to do with drug abuse, run away hotlines, and one had to do with human trafficking and illegal prostitution.

I turned to Calvin, horrified, realizing that seeing a wandering girl around Wal-Mart that ran when he pulled out a phone to call for help did, in fact, make me sound like I was drug addict or worse, a prostitute picking up men for money. Put that together with all of my bruises and I didn’t exactly appear like a model citizen.