Into the Jungle - Author Bell Part 4

Into the Jungle - Bell

Official Journal: File #---3. Part 4

   Guns drawn, senses alert, and blood curdling with adrenaline. We're face to face with a possible threat that has yet to speak a word. I have my revolver pointed at one of her black buttons that lies over her heart, and Ivan is having no problem showing off his weapon either. In fact, he's not even pointing the muzzle at her. He's menacing enough without the gun. However, the woman didn't seemed threatened at all. She examined both of us and visually made notes. Then she smirked and moved away from the front door, pulling out a notebook and writing something down. "Ma'm," Ivan inquired politely, but with a bit of a growl. "I need you to tell us who you are and why you're here, or you're going to have some trouble. "First off" she spoke, turning around to look at us. "I'm not here to hurt you, so you can holster your weapons for a real threat."

   "I want a name and why you're here first." Ivan seemed pretty firm, yet he was now relaxed against the wall with arms crossed and legs locked, gun still in hand.

   "Fine. Sionn Harrow. Detective from the DPD."

   "I want a badge." With that request, she pulled out a small wallet from one of her coat pockets and tossed it to Ivan. He opened it, investigated, and then tossed it back. "It's legitimate." We put our handguns away.

   "So, Mrs. Harrow, I-" Ivan was cut off.

   "I'm not married Mr. Aquila."

   "Oh, sorry ma'm. Wait, how did you know my name?"

   "I've been assigned to your team by the Deinsport Council Mr. Bell. I'm going to be sticking around and helping you with any navigation, crime files-"

   "Or are you just keeping tabs to make sure we're not a bunch of crazies. Am I right, Miss, Harrow?" Ivan had a hiss spurting from his speech. He's definitely annoyed. Harrow also sighed at his question.

   "Yes, they also want me to watch over your company to make sure the money they endowed you is being used correctly." I chuckled a bit at this remark. This wasn't the first time I had heard this.

   "Sionn, I can assure you that we're not frauds. In fact, we're on our way to see if we can observe some paranormal activity, but I'm wondering why we should even let you follow us."

   "Yes," Ivan stood and walked towards her. "please tell us that you're some use besides slowing us down."

   "Well, Mr. Aquila," she met Ivan and placed a hand on his arm. "I can assure you, I have keen senses, a quick hand, and a quick draw too." Ivan twitched and looked down towards his chest. I was amazed to see that Sionn had actually swiped Ivan's 1911 pistol and shoved it into his chest stock first.

   "Well" Ivan seemed to have lost his annoyed tone, but he kept his composure. "I can say that a quick drawn and some knowledge wouldn't be a bad thing to have around."

   I added, "I agree, but you have to remember that you're going to be the novice if you join us. This is a lot different from normal detective work."

   "Understood." She let go of Ivan's pistol, flicked her brown hair away from her eyes, and quietly turned to the soda machine. She inserted a dollar, and the machine immediately ate the money and popped out a drink of her choosing. "I'll be in the car, and I'll follow you two when you're ready." She left the building, and I shot a stare at Ivan who was, surprisingly, stunned.

   Moving north and approaching 11 at night, we drove up to North Deinsport Park to where Justin had tipped us off to his excavation site. On the way, Ivan was exceptionally quiet. He doesn't like being forced to make changes, he doesn't like being outsmarted, and he doesn't like looking like a fool. Sionn had broken these three walls with him, and he wasn't taking it well. I tried turning on the radio to break the silence, but nothing suited to my taste. We arrived a the park, which was deserted for the night, and drove to the  far west side where the walking trails and excavation site was located. We all approached the trail with the mist slowly turning dissipating. With Sionn, we started walking the smallest loop around the site.

   "What are we trying to do here? Is walking trails part of your exercise routine or your plan?"

   We both turned and gave her a stern look. I gave the first word. "If you must know everything, we are walking a trail that surrounds an excavation site that has historical significance to Deinsport. We thought that coming here may give us a clue of spirits or their origins." She let out an "Ah" as she understood the logic now, and we continued walking. She occasionally asked about how we go about business, but she kept to herself after we had told her to be quiet several times. The trails had some small historical buildings that were built to show the original architecture within Deinsport, so it was a perfect place for spirits of old to hang around.

   We kept walking slowly, waiting for any sound or sign of life. We must have walked the loop at least four times before we had contact. Ivan was the first to notice, and he stopped and stood still, head down.

   "Ivan" Sionn spoke out of her place. "what are you-"

   "Sh." I hushed her quickly, and she obeyed. I walked over to Ivan and stood still. I closed my eyes to listen. Sure enough, there was contact.

   "Do you hear them?" he whispered.

   "Yes."

   Sionn walked over and stood trying to listen, but by the disgruntled look on her face, she wasn't getting and readings.

   "Here." Ivan whispered. He guided her to where he was standing. "Close your eyes, listen intently for anything. Don't expect a sound. Feel the sound."  She closed her eyes, somewhat annoyed that she did not hear anything. But then here eyes slowly opened.

   "Feet. I heard running."

   "I've got that too, but I'm getting multiple readings." I said as I gave Ivan a nod.  "Ivan I think we have Memoirs."

   "Agreed." He nodded his head and revealed his pocketbook to take notes.

   "I'm sorry, Memoirs?" Sionn had no idea what we meant, and for good reason.

   "It's a term our team uses. Memoirs are like the memories of the deceased that thrive in an area after that person has passed."

   Ivan closed his pocketbook. "It's almost as if the memories of an individual survived death, and decided to live in a place where that person treasured that memory."

   "Ivan, I've got kids too." Ivan jotted it down.

   Sionn stood for a second, trying to make out what she was hearing. "Do you hear some yelling? I didn't think this area had military conflict involved."

   "It didn't. You're hearing bargaining. Markets." I looked at Ivan again.

   "I'm getting that too." He reached for his pocketbook again to take more notes.

   Sionn searched through the mystic sound again. "Are those children? Playing?"

   Ivan looked up. "Yes, they are. Children's Memoirs are pretty frequent wherever you search for them." 

   "Wait, you mean dead children's memories?" Sionn had a look of concern, but not horror that most people tend to get.

   "Well, maybe. We don't know, but it could be someone who enjoyed watching kids play, or a father who's son would play here. There are many possibilities." Sionn seemed pleased with my answer. "You're actually doing really well. Not many people can read these sounds on their first go."

   "Thanks." She spared me a smile, but I felt a cold vibe coming from Ivan, though he still kept his head in his notebook.

   "Jon, what's the moon?" Ivan started the stat tracking in the notebook, where we record time, date, and any other possibilities that may affect phenomena.

   "I actually don't know. Sionn?"
   She opened her eyes for a moment. "It's a waxing crescent tonight."

   "That's unusual..." Ivan remarked. He wrote some extra notes down and raised his head from his notebook. "Let's stick around for a few minutes. We might hear some more."

   We all listened for a few long minutes, and the time spent was pleasurable. Listening to the happy memories of those past is a rather satisfying experience. That changed for the worse.

   Ivan was busy taking notes when he stopped abruptly. I looked at him with wide eyes, but he kept his head down.

   "What? What's wrong? Bell? Jonathan? Iv-"

   "Sh." Another abrupt hush from Ivan. "This is bad." Sionn stood still, not knowing what was happening.

   "Ivan?" I asked.

   "Yes?"

   "That screeching," Sionn's eyes now revealed some interest and fear. Screeching.

   "Is that coming from nearby, or are we dealing with something bigger?" He tapped his pencil on the pad for a few moments.

   "It's coming from the trail. I believe it's a Departed. Sionn, we may have work for you. follow us."

   The party started walking the trails. I started shivering from the screeching  It's an awful thing to listen to. Sionn kept listening until she heard it. She kept composure, but she wasn't sure what to expect. The screeching puts a whole new perspective on the situation. It's disturbing and unnerving  It doesn't seem to affect Ivan much, but it has stalled people with fear who are not used to hearing the sound. While walking along the path, a sudden, glass shattering screech screamed in everyone's ears. Sionn and I flinched a little bit. Ivan kept walking. He stopped in the middle of the path and stood still. 

   "What is he doing?" Sionn asked.

   "He needs to put the Departed to rest." Ivan knelt down in the middle of the path, and we stood a good distance away. His silence seemed to oppose the erratic screeching that deafened us. After a few seconds, the screeching seemed to stop. A cold wind blew through the trees, and Ivan stood. "Jonathan, give the ambulance a ring." I did as he asked. Basic routine. Sionn was curious and walked to Ivan. She looked down and saw a body of a woman face down. Her slow drain of blood seemed to mix with the puddling rain around her. I finished my call and walked over. "Well, I believe we have our first case."

Into the Jungle - Author Bell - Part 3

Into the Jungle - Bell

Official Journal: File #---3. Part 3

   The Brickston's doors closed behind us with a slight sound of squeezing air to pass through the cracks before it sealed shut. The mist had now evolved into a subtle rain which quietly drenched the city. I popped my collar and placed my hat upon my head. It was a battered, old hat, but this trusty hat was part of me now. "So... that was a nice little place, right?" Ivan let out a "humph" and tipped his hat to Murray, who was packing up his shop for the night. "It could be worse. Seemed like a gentleman though" was his final answer. I threw him the keys to the van, and we got in. We didn't have money to buy a nice car or anything, so our team bought a used utility van off of a Mexican businessman going out of business. It's not strictly comfy, or in the best of shape, but it works for us and feels like home. However, the idea of getting a new car entertained me, so I brought it up to Ivan.

   "What kind of car would you want to have if we could own a private car?"

   Ivan grunted. "I'm not into the whole car thing. This works just-"

   "Come on now!" I said almost pleadingly. "Let's start with this, what color?"

   "Easy, black."

   "I should have guessed. What about Blue? Purple? Red? Maybe-"

   "I like red. Red is good."

   "Okay, now a red... what? What kind of car?"

   He sighed for a moment and then looked at the rear view mirror. "That car."

   I turned around to look out the back window. Sure enough, a sleek looking city car was tailing us closely through the foggy rain.

   "You know, that thing has been following us for a long time now. Real erratic and no turn signals."

   I was puzzled, so I questioned, "Do you think we're being followed?"

   "I'm saying..." Ivan replied with a pause. "I'm not completely comfortable right now."

   "Well do something then! Lets find a place to turn in. We're about to pass a rest st-"

   I was tossed to the left, only to have my belt restrain my sudden movement. The wheels screeched violently against the wet pavement as Ivan suddenly turned into the stop. The car behind us kept moving down the highway, and we pulled into the rest area.

   

   I crept slowly out of the bathroom at the rest stop to find Ivan continuously inserting a single dollar bill into a soda machine. It refused to accept, probably scared snack-less of Ivan's presence. I stood there taking in the sight for my entertainment, fully aware that he probably knew I was watching. I didn't care, I needed some time to rest my sore arm from the sharp turn he had made earlier. After a few more tries, the machine dared not to spit out the dollar again. Ivan, who seemed surprised, took a few extra moments to decide on what to purchase. He pressed a button, and nothing happened. He stared at the machine for a few seconds, expecting anything. Nothing. He pressed again. Waited. Nothing. "Hrraaugh!" His fist collided abruptly with the machine, and it gave up his selected soda as an offering of peace. He adjusted his tie, cracked his neck, and took his soda. With a fizz, the bottled opened, and he looked at me expecting something. He caught my wide eyes staring at him.

   "Sorry" was his response. I shook my head to regain composure. "Nah, you're find. I hate those things." A couple walked into the building to take their rest. The woman parted ways into the bathroom, and the man stared Ivan and I down. He cleared his throat and stepped over to the soda machine. He pulled out a dollar, and we stood there watching him. Again, the stubborn machine refused his money, and spat it out at the man over and over again. He paused a couple of times to question if he should back down and spare some dignity, or to return the stubbornness. Ivan stood there, idly watching and secretly relishing the moment. I would have relished it too, but I noticed another pair of headlights approaching. It was the car.

   I stiffened, but stayed calm. I walked towards Ivan and said "Lovely night really, right fellas? Wouldn't be better if I hit two stones with one bird." The man turned and looked at me like I was crazy, but Ivan glared with his dark mask at me. He glanced outside in time to see the headlights turn off. He turned back his glare, "I'm going to stand over there, but..." he paused and leaned in towards my ear. "We need to get this guy out of here" was spoken in a barely audible whisper. I nodded and took a few steps back to lean against the wall. Ivan pressed a button on the machine and threw another punch at the machine again, this time blacking out the lights. A soda clunked around and popped out onto the tray, and the man looked stunned. The man's company arrived from the restroom and seemed horrified with Ivan standing over the man, who wore a face of fear. To make matters worse, the front door opened, and another woman walked in with a long red jacket and a daring look on her face. She closed the door, blocking the exit. Ivan and I had our hands in our jackets, ready to pull out his 1911 handgun and my revolver on the first twitch of a threat. Nothing. The stubborn soda machine's buzzing quietly play a sad tune as all of us stood in time's stalemate. The redcoat woman stared at me boldly yet refused to move. I shot a glance at Ivan who was obviously wondering how to go about this situation. He decided to make the first move. He lurched down slowly and grabbed the soda in the tray. The woman in the doorway started to move, but I audibly cocked my revolver, and she stopped. The sound also made the bystander squeal hysterically for a second, but she stopped. Ivan continued, and gave the soda to the man. "I think it's time that you get back on the road, sir." The man grabbed the bottle and and snatched his woman-friend. They pushed past the redcoat woman and hurried to their car. They ran off quickly, and the room returned to its stalemate. Ivan took the bold move of pulling out his pistol openly, loading the clip and snapping back the hammer and slide. "I hope you've got some good news for us ma'm." 

Into the Jungle - Author Bell - Part 2

Into the Jungle - Bell

Official Journal: File #---3. Part 2

   Crisp air rushed our senses as we stepped outside. The brisk air immediately attacked and killed any leftover warmth that our skin and raincoats clung to. A shroud of mist huddled with the buildings while steam poured out of car muzzles and ventilation shafts. Ivan placed his hand on top of his hat and walked quickly to the alley's dance of shadows. He never liked being in open light, though no one in our team is sure why. There are medical conditions where skin reacts to sunlight, and some people have over-sensitive eyes, but Ivan seemed to crave the dark. I personally do not mind at all, for he scares away small animals and annoying individuals. I moved towards the alley as well. "Do you know where a local bar is?" I asked. I felt another stern look from his hidden face. "Do you mean to gather information, or is this investigation designed to get you stuttering and stomping through the streets?"  I chuckled a bit, "Only for information today. Seeing we have no leads, its best to go where rumors tend to circulate." Ivan nodded his head. "There's a bar down about three blocks called Brickston's. It looks like a crumby place, but it's better than nothing."

   A short walk managed to find us acquainted with three homeless men and a hot dog vendor. His name was Murray, and he graciously thanked us for coming to town to assist with tidying up some of the investigation work. We said thank you and moved to enter Brickston's. Upon entering, the bartender looked up from his newspaper and walked over to us. This man, dressed in formal black tie and white shirt, offered to take our jackets and motioned us towards the bar-stools. Ivan reluctantly gave his coat to the man, but once he did, I saw that he only more a black shirt and tie under his jacket. The bartender walked away to hang our coats, and we sat down. We glanced around the room to note the other people in the room. Just procedure, nothing suspicious. Most of the men in the room were drunkards and some other rough sorts. After a few seconds, the man returned and said "Good evening gentlemen. I'm Justin, and you -um- sir, are...?" He was carefully moving his head to try getting a clear look at Ivan, but I interrupted him before he pissed Ivan off. "I'm Investigator Bell, and that's Investigator Aquilla."

   "Oh! You must be the new private investigators in town! Right then. Drinks on the house today for you two. What can I get'cha?" He donned a big smile and start to wipe off a shot glass for one of us.

   "The drinks won't be necessary" Ivan growled. Justin stopped as his back straitened a bit to Ivan's tone. His eyes darted between Ivan and I. 
   "Sorry, he can be a bit tense. We'll have water with some chips, and we might return to have a drink or two later." Justin's shoulders relaxed a bit to hearing my words, and he replied with "Yes sir". When he left for the kitchen, Ivan gestured to under the counter. I leaned back a tiny bit to get a look, and he had his finger poking at a hole puncturing the bar stand. "What's that?" I questioned him. "Small splintered hole in the wood with some rupturing cracks, I'd say small arms fire" he deducted.
   "You know this isn't the safest place in town. Not to mention, this isn't the safest city around either." He sat up and started looking around, then leaned back to me.
   "I know. I'm just saying, we need to be ca- ahem." He held his tongue as the kind bartender returned with chips, salsa, cheese, and two iced glasses to be filled with water. "Anything else I can get you guys? I know the TV set is old, but I can get a game on for you two."
    "Thanks," said I, swallowing the first salsa dipped chip "but we need information more than sport scores right now.". Justin raised his black eyebrows as if to express "I see where this is going".
   Ivan leaned over. "We've been contracted to work in this city because it is supposedly overrun by crime and ghosts, and the police department has not agreed to release criminal records or cases as of yet. So we're hoping to find another source, and seeing that you're a bartender, I'm sure you have heard your share of intriguing ghost stories."
   Chuckling, Justin responded, "Why, you've come to the right guy then." He ducked under the bar stand and wrestled some items before pulling out a large book. He dusted it off with his rag and placed it before us. "I was an archaeologist working for the Deinsport Historical Society before the project was shut down. I was able to connect with all sorts of people working for the society. I might be able to call up some people if you, oh hold on, more customers." He darted to the door to help an older couple with their coats. Opening the book, we saw pictures of a faily small but intriguing archaeology dig featuring what looked like some stone formations for some buildings, as well as pictures of other shards of dining sets and other trinkets.
   "Ivan?"
   "Maybe his old dig site would be a good place to get an idea for the paranormal side of things?" I nodded my head to Ivan's idea.
   "Yeah, it should be a good place to start  if it has any historical significance. We can call his friends up later." Ivan nodded his head to this, and then took a bite of a chip lathered with cheese. Justin returned after giving the older couple some menus. "Sorry guys, things are about to get busy in here. I can give you my card so you guys can-"
   "No need," Ivan grumbled sternly. "just tell us two things. First thing; what were you excavating?"
   "Oh, well... the area was supposed to be the original town of Old Deinsport from the early 1800's."
   "Old Deinsport, is that excavation site north of here?"
   "It is, but our plot is now a popular walking trail surrounded my middle-class homes. Its about a two hour drive from here to there." A quick glance at my watch said the time was closing in on 6. I motioned for Ivan to get our coats. "Alright, thank you kindly Mr. Justin...?"
   "Singleton, sir. It's a pleasure to serve. Come back if you need some spirits." He said with a big grin. Ican returned and threw my raincoat to me.
   "Mr. Singleton, we may be finding lots of spirits already if we're lucky, thanks for the offer though." And with those final words, we were off.

Into the Jungle - Author Bell

Into the Jungle

Official Journal: File #---3. Part 1 V.2

   Lights flared across the rooms of the apartment in a burst of life. A few construction workers gave a dim cheer as Ivan shielded his eyes from the light. He preferred existence in the dark, but any civilized business or firm had to have proper lighting fixtures.

    Between his fingers, Ivan peered at the workers who slowly moved from place to place, carrying boards, wires, tools, and other pieces of equipment necessary for the final renovations of the apartment. The workers moved too slowly for Ivan's taste, but neither he nor Mark were paying for their services. Deinsport City was paying a skeptical amount of money to Mark and Ivan for their detective work, so Mark lobbied for some workers to come out and make an appropriate living space for them to work as part of the contract. Neither of them realized that the city had placed them in a trashed building, so the bargain paid off well.

    Ivan turned to the steps and walked downstairs, dodging a half-asleep working slowly stuffing a stale sandwich into his mouth. He opened the door, and was relieved that the thick storm clouds prevented light from abusing his sight. David, looked up from the trunk of the van still parked out front, and he gave a quick salute before returning to the vehicle. Ivan approached quietly, observing as Mark threw the occasional file into a trashcan pulled alongside the van.

    "Reorganizing?" Ivan asked blandly, leaning against the nearby light pole. Mark looked up, surprised that Ivan showed any interest.

    "Well, sort of." Mark peeked into another folder in his hands, then nonchalantly threw it into the trash can. "Most of these files are old cases that we will never finish. The rest is stuff I should really shred." Ivan nodded. It only made Mark uncomfortable. He turned towards the boxes of files still left in the van and sighed. "Its a new start for us here. I want to get rid of the past." Ivan did not respond in anyway, but David knew that he agreed with him. 

    The past was filled with some pretty nasty run-ins and turns for the worst. Working purely as a private investigator for the public resulted in some interested clients. Anyone who was not entirely insane usually accused them of running a fraudulent business that preyed on desperate families looking for answers. Though Mark and Ivan usually found answers to the mysteries of previous cases, people would only believe them if they had a living and breathing criminal in custody to prove it. People never believed the paranormal explanations that usually came up. Because of the disbelief, police usually came knocking on or knocking down doors to run the two out of town. This would leave David and Ivan homeless until they could find a town to set up shop. Then the accusations would start the whole process again.

    But Deinsport was different. The government had specifically requested them and signed a contract. Even if people accused them of fraud, it wouldn't matter for two years. And now they also had a base of operation where they could really organize into a proper detective firm. It was a chance for their big break.

    A worker emerged from the alley beside their apartment building. "Hey, uh, Mr. Davidson?" Mark shook himself out of a blank stare into the ground and turned to the worker.

    "Yeah? What's up?"

    "Well, I got the internet box hooked up. Here is your internet IP address along with the preset password. I'll get the manual and package from our truck." He seemed rather pleased with himself over finishing the task.

    "Good work. Thanks." Mark took the information without much attention to the worker. He turned to Ivan, who was still leaning on the light pole. "Hey Ivan, I'll check our mail real quick to see if we have any updates from the city. Go check upstairs to make sure the construction is going okay." Ivan breathed in slowly, not desiring the bright lights that awaited inside. But he could deal with it. He stood and entered the build as Mark booted up his computer for the first time since getting to the city.

---

    Ivan stepped over debris as he made his way down the hallway. The construction crew was finishing up the living quarters, evident by the sawdust and raw sound spewing out of one of the last rooms at the end of the hall. Looking from side to side, Ivan peered into the first two rooms which would become offices for Mark and himself. Nameplate holders were freshly screwed into place beside the doors, but the rooms were almost identical and unclaimed. Reaching over, Ivan peered into the first room. It was small and cramped without any light besides the single bulb in the ceiling. It was a perfect habitat for Ivan. Yet, with a single moment of hesitation, he backed out the door and decided to try the second room. Looking in, a cold light peered into the room from a large window spanning the wall. Yet the light reflected off the floor and prevailed in a low blue tone, soaking the walls in a visual ink. Ivan, intrigued by the rich character that such a bland room had to offer, approached the window and observed the outside world. The window offered a dull but pleasant sight over the nearby road and sidewalk. Across the road were rundown townhouses and kids splashing through puddles. Ivan pushed closer to the window and looked down, noticing Mark closing up his laptop and hopping out of the passenger seat. Relaxing into a blank stare, Ivan considered the safety of being in such a room with a literal wide window for attack. Yet, the eerie darkness felled Ivan into a state of comfort.

    The lights blasted on, and Ivan shuddered, spinning around quickly to meet the perpetrator. Mark, startled by Ivan's sudden movement, lost some footing and grabbed onto the door frame for support.

    "Turn the light off," Ivan hummed, lurching towards Mark aggressively. Two seconds passed as Mark processed Ivan's command between the shock and fear. He flipped the switch, and the inky room returned to its lush color. Ivan also returned to his straight posture and asked "Yes, what is it?"

    "Um, I, uh, have some news." Mark stuttered. Ivan turned slightly to hear Mark's further explanation. "We, uh, got a green light from the government to start working anytime we see fit. The governor's secretary sent me some road maps, city history, contacts for additional information, and even promised some badges for us to carry." Mark brightened at the exciting news.

    "Hmph." Ivan responded and returned to his window.

    Mark, hesitant at first, slowly approached the window. "What... what are you looking at?"

    Ivan stared unresponsive to Mark's question. Then stated without warning, "Just... reflecting on time, Mark."

    Mark's eyes darted away, somewhat confused. "Come again?"

    Ivan sighed, slightly annoyed by Mark at this point. "Just reflecting on the past and anticipating the future. I thought I would hate this old apartment in the past, yet the present moment has given me a gift of enjoyment for once. Time will reveal the mistakes in our assumptions. We then correct our mistakes and make do with what we have in the present."

    Mark nodded. "Sure, that makes sense. Kinda makes you wish that you could see into the future so that we wouldn't have to make mistakes, right? That would have been so handy for our business."

    "No." Ivan stated sternly.

    "No?"

    "No." Ivan confirmed again. "If we were to see the future, then we would only desire to know what we needed, and not gain intellect."

    Mark stood awkwardly behind Ivan, feeling as if he had just been scolded by a teacher. After a moment, Mark opened up again, "Hey, speaking of gaining intellect, we're going to need to do some exploration."

    Ivan snapped out of his world again. "I thought you said you had maps of the area?"

    "We do," Mark gladly replied, finally having information that Ivan did not already know about. "But the government needs us to do some exploration on our own to become familiar with the community."

    "And we can pick up on spiritual signals." Ivan added.

    Mark smiled. "Bingo. Besides, we should grab a bite to eat somewhere. I can show you some of the maps and charts once we get a table."

    "Sounds good to me. Lets move." Ivan stood and followed Mark to the door. "Hey Mark," Mark stopped in the hallways and turned to Ivan. "I'm taking this room."

    Mark smiled again. "Whatever suits you mate." Ivan and Mark walked outside, where it began to rain. Since the van was currently stuck between two utility trucks, the duo grabbed their raincoats from the hangers in the van and set off to find nourishment.