For reference, Jacob is short and stocky, not fat. Very dark completed and bald. I haven’t seen him without a hat yet, but it’s obvious that he’s bald. His hat seems to always be different and perfectly matches his clothes. He calls me Drew for some reason, but it’s a dead giveaway so I know it’s him when he does. He also carries a gun like the one he gave me, except his reads, “Thou shalt not steal.” Mine reads, “Thou shalt not kill.”
I still can’t figure out why he’s taken such an interest in me. It seems like he’s helped thousands of people, but he says he never brings them into his world, gives them his personal gun, or is willing to be killed by his own gang. Or maybe, he just likes to tick people off. I think the truth is he get the job done at any cost.
I spent the first hour this morning running from Jacob. When I realized I had lost more two days of my memory (only one recorded in the journal) and saw a black guy at my door, I took off running out the back door. I figured it was another one of the Morning Star thugs from the Barber’s crew. It sounds a little racist looking back, but I don’t really have any black friends. Besides, I was right. Jacob is a Morning Star.
I grabbed the journal and took off out the back door. I live in a typical LA suburban cul-de-sac surrounded by a thin line of trees. I figured the best way to lose him was to cut through the yards and then through the trees to the main road. I ran frantically through my neighbors’ yards, faster than I realized I could. When I got to the road, I was exhausted. My thighs burned and my heard pounded. I took a moment to catch my breath on the edge of the woods. The ditch was high and I couldn’t be seen from the road. I figured I’d wait until he left and then head for the police station in town.
“I should have grabbed my cell phone and called them,” I thought to myself, but then I realized the police might not be the best answer. “They have people on the inside.” I remember reading that Jacob had his guys attack Jackson in prison. That’s how he died. “They could be at the police station waiting for me.”
I got light headed in the sun and sat down. It was all too much to take. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it coursing through my head. I had nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. “The charm shop,” popped into my mind. I had to see if this was all real. “Did I really get attacked there?” I remember wanting to go there and find out what happened to me the first time, but had I really gone there? All I had to go by was entry 10. “Did I really see an angel in the desert?” My own writing in entry 4 told me that I did, but I had no memory of it. Maybe, I was forced to write a lie.
I had to move on. I walked along the tree line on what seemed to be a kid’s makeshift bike path. The tree line was only two trees deep, but eventually it emptied into a small preserve that was more of a swampy water runoff for the homes in the area. I had to cut up the ditch and cross the main road. I made my way to a nearby drugstore and asked the cashier to call me a cab. Using the address in the journal, I went to the charm shop.
…
Just got a memory back like Jacob said I would. I remember the first time I met Jacob, the charm shop and going to the desert. I recall my entire first memory gap.
I remember Jacob handing me a gun when I left the charm shop. I had not written it down. I told him that I’d never shot a gun before. He just smiled and said, “The witch is right. I got to lead my crew away from you. They won’t like us using Ms. Jenna’s services. Angels are evil and so is this witch. Use this to protect yourself against the angels. It’ll stop them. The words on the side are to remind you not to shoot people. It ain’t killin’ if they’re not human. I put the safety on the gun and brought it with me to the desert. I drove slowly. I didn’t want to be pulled over with a gun in the car.
There’s more. Jacob pulled me in close after he handed me the gun and whispered, “Write down the GPS coordinates and put them somewhere in your house. Somewhere secret. Don’t write it down in your journal. Don’t write down our conversation. And if you fail tomorrow. Write down that you lost your only chance.” I started to protest, but Jacob cut me off. “You’re gonna have to figure out if you trust me Drew. I can’t explain all this shit because the less you know the safer you are.”
Can’t remember the coordinates. My memory stopped after I left the desert. The cowboy told me, “Put that gun away, son,” after he killed the angel above the fire. I dropped the gun without second thought. The image of the angel consumed me. It was beautiful young boy dressed in BC clothing. Its face was calm, peaceful. Its eyes started to open, but before they could, that cowboy shot it right between the eyes. Yes, there are angels, and some are beautiful.
I need to take a break to think. I can’t believe I was that close to finding Avery. I can’t stand this. It’s like I just lost her again
