Sydney didn't have much, but that was fine with her. She didn't need much. Growing up on the Washington coast in a lonely beach town, working quietly behind the scenes was what she was good at. Living on the beach was much less glamorous than most p...
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Your narrow escape has wiped the smile from your face.
"I still can't believe we'll be in New Orleans soon." Sydney said, hauling her backpack into the truck bed and storing it beside her tool kit. "I never thought I'd leave the State of Washington, but since I've met you guys I've been to more places than I ever dreamed of." "Yeah, it's pretty cool." Chris smiled at her excitement that he could tell she was trying to suppress. "Is it bad that I'm mostly excited for the food?" "It's unsurprising." Kim teased as he appeared to grab his bag from the back of her truck and store it in the new van. The band and even Sydney had all chipped in to buy the van: a red Chevy Beauville. It was a definite upgrade from Hiro's beat up, windowless Dodge Tradesman. They all felt much safer and much more comfortable during their long hours on the road now, which was great considering they were currently in the middle of their longest road trip yet. They were stopped somewhere on the west side of Louisiana taking a pee break, grabbing snacks and switching drivers. Until now, Sydney had been driving her truck with Kim riding shotgun and Chris in the back snoozing, while Stu had been driving the van. Chris was now going to drive her truck while she slept on the makeshift cot in the truck bed, and the others would all pile into the van that would now be driven by Matt. Once they were all situated and had called the promoter to let them know that they were on their way, they all loaded into the two vehicles. Sydney left the little window between the bed and the cab open and chatted lightly with Chris for a few minutes before settling down and listening to the music. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt happy. This road trip had been a blast so far, aside from a few technical trip ups. She had bonded so much with the band, Stuart, and Eric Johnson. Eric came along to sell T shirts at their shows to earn a little extra cash and help with set-up and take-down... and he was always making them laugh. He had adopted the nickname Gunny Junk late one night during a conversation in the van that she hadn't been a part of, but the name had stuck. Just as she began to drift to sleep, she heard tapping on the glass above her head. "Syd... get up here, hurry up." Chris's voice sounded urgent, and she felt the truck slowing down. Sitting up, her heart froze as red and blue flashing lights filled the canopy. She scrambled through the small window as he pulled the truck over on to the shoulder, nearly kneeing Chris in the jaw as she went. "What the fuck?" She asked, unable to think of better words at the moment. "It's alright. Just relax, we haven't done anything wrong." Sydney nodded, but her heart was hammering against her chest. She took a few deep breaths before a sharp knock on her window made her jump. Rolling it down, she looked up at the officer that was glaring at her. "I need you to wait here." He barked. "Sure thing. Can I ask why we're being stopped?" Chris asked him, leaning over her. "Just hang tight a sec." They both nodded and the officer turned his attention toward the cop that was talking to the passengers of the van. Syd snuck a look over at Chris, and he could see the fear in her eyes. Reaching a hand over slowly, he interlaced his fingers with hers and squeezed. She blinked her eyes a few times and looked down, but her fingers held his hand so tightly that her knuckles were white. A few minutes went by before they were instructed to exit the vehicles and keep their hands in plain sight. The officer tugged on her arm roughly as he guided her to the side of the road, and she caught Kim glaring at him as she was pushed into place beside him. Chris came around the truck to stand on her other side, and she leaned close to him. "Can any of you tell me why we're all here?" The second officer asked, looping his thumbs through his belt. "I'm sure you can't wait to let us know." Kim said sarcastically. "Don't." Sydney whispered, nudging Kim's arm. The officer smiled, but it wasn't a kind expression. He stepped closer to Kim, narrowing his eyes and lowering his voice dangerously. "You know, I've chased quite a few druggies into these swamps and guess what? They don't come out again. Y'all don't have 'gators up north, do you?" Kim said nothing, only glared harder at the officer's smug face. Sydney shivered as she eyed the swamp behind them nervously. Kim wasn't a druggie... none of them were. "We're with the DEA, and we got wind of a bunch of long-hairs rolling through here with Washington plates... dealing coke." The first officer said, flashing his badge. There was a stunned silence among the seven friends that were lined up along the side of the highway. It was getting dark, and this had taken a very unexpected turn. "Now, here's the deal. We could get a search warrant, and y'all can stand out here for as long as that takes. Or, you can sign this consent to search. We'll grab the dog and just get it done now." After a few moments of looking from one to the other they all shrugged and agreed to sign. After all, they had nothing to hide. They had all been in agreement to come down here clean, not that any of them had anything to do with drugs of that magnitude. A few of them smoked weed here and there, but most of them didn't. The search was long, and painful as the officers recklessly dumped all of their belongings and gear on the ground. Sydney kept hold of Chris's hand tightly. They all kicked their legs out periodically, as the ants that swarmed a nearby anthill crawled all over their shoes. Sydney now desperately wished that she had been wearing her boots instead of her sandals, feeling the occasional sting of ant bites. Bugs never phased her, but this was unbearable and she was terrified. Chris sensed this, occasionally squeezing her hand comfortingly. After what seemed like forever, the officers finally found a bag containing a tiny little marijuana bud in Stuart's microphone case. Immediately, the first officer took Gunny away from the group to question him while the second officer gathered all of their IDs. Sydney felt a new wave of worry wash over her as she handed her fake ID over. Sure enough, after a few long minutes the second officer pulled her away from the group as well. "You want to tell me what this is for?" He asked, holding out her fake identification after sitting her down on the back bumper of her truck out of view of everyone else. "I-I use it for work. Most of the venues we perform at aren't all ages." She admitted, hoping that honesty would buy her a little leeway. "You know, that is quite a big offense for a pretty young thing such as yourself." Sydney only swallowed, nervousness swirling around her insides. Forcing a nod, she held back a shiver of fear. This could end her career before it even began. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't arrest you right now." "I- I've never been in trouble with the law once in my entire life. I just want to work my dream job, sir." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Dream job huh?" He scoffed, and she nodded as a small tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek. "You seem to like these boys a lot. What would you do to keep yourself- and them out of trouble?" Sydney looked up at him, confused, and he chuckled cruelly. "I'd do anything. They're good guys, sir... they just want to play music." "Anything? You'd do anything to help them out?" "Yes. Anything." "Good. We shouldn't have a problem, then." He said with a smirk. To Sydney's horror, she watched as he began to quickly undo his belt buckle. Suddenly, she realized what 'anything' meant to this man.
