Choose Your Own Adventure: Landonburg or Bust, the finale

Welcome to the finale of Landonburg or Bust. Before reading, it is highly recommended that you look at the other four parts.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

 

“Well? What do you want to do?” the officer asked again.

Craig’s thoughts began to crystallize. “Could you delay him long enough for me to get away.”

“We can do that,” the officer said. His eyes squinted, showing his metallization of the process. “We’ll grab him on some traffic ticket or something. You be ready to go.

“Hopefully it will work.”

 

The clock ticked loudly. Every second seemed to pass by slower than the last. Nervous, Craig’s legs wobbled as he paced the floor of the holding cell.

The unbearable silence was broken by the sound of footsteps outside the door. Craig raised his head up, eyes focusing on the figure that stood in the door frame.

“Well, well. There you are.”

Mason stood before him, his eyes meeting Craig’s stare. His mouth slid into a smirk.

“We better get you to your sister’s weddin’,” he said, his eyes continuing to fixate on Craig. “It’s in Landonburg, right?”

Behind him, the officer entered the room, papers in hand.

“Well, sir, all we need from you is your signature here and we’re all squared away.” Mason looked away for a second, grabbing the pen and scribbling his name before looking back at Craig.

“We done here?” Mason forcefully asked. “We’ve got things to do.” His hand slid down into his pocket, briefly revealing to Craig the silver sheen of a handgun.

“All that you have left to do is to run your record,” said the officer, unlocking the cell door. “Then you and this guy can take off.”

The three of them made their way to the front desk. The officer led Craig to a seat across from the desk. The door slammed into his knee as a man opened it, handing the officer a single piece of paper before exiting the same way.

“Well, it looks like you, sir, have an outstanding traffic ticket,” the officer said, scanning the piece of paper. He slowly placed it on the desk top. “We really should take care of that before you take off.”

Mason’s eyes grew wide. “Um… I really got to get this guy to that weddin’. It’s real important to his family.”

The officer barely looked up from the piece of paper. “Well, if you don’t take care of it now, we can’t let you go. Its $200 or 48 hours in lockdown. Up to you.”

“I don’t think we’re gonna be able to do that,” Mason said. He began to back towards the door, his hand reaching into his hip pocket. “Now,” he said, grabbing hold of Craig, “we have to be goin’.” The gun came from his hip pocket, the light bouncing off of its polished steel.

Craig would spend the rest of his live trying to figure out exactly what happened next. As best as he could remember it, Mason fired, trying to turn and run.

Fortunately, Mason was a terrible shot. The bullet flew directly into the florescent light fixture above the desk, turning the room dark. Mason attempted to capitalize on his situation, rushing towards the door.

Throughout Mason’s entire childhood, his mother had preached the importance of tying one’s shoe. Unfortunately for Mason, his attention span as a child was very short, causing his mother’s lessons to fall on deaf ears.

Mason went hurtling through the air, his gun sliding across the concrete floor. Mason landed, trying to grab the gun, but to no avail. The officer had already arrived, standing over him.

“You dropped your gun,” the officer said, his own firearm drawn. “That’s unfortunate.”

 

Craig gave his statement and walked out of the building. After all of that, he still had 12 hours to get to the wedding.

On his way to the bus stop, he passed the vehicle that had started all of this. Mason’s car set there, windows rolled down. Craig continued on his way before slowing down and looking back.

What was on that paper?

He strolled up to the window and casually reached inside for the box. It was still unlocked from the day’s prior events. He lifted the lid to see it sitting there, just as he had left it.

His hand grabbed the piece of paper, lifting it out of its resting place. Craig unfolded it, carefully revealing Mason’s handwritten notes.

The paper contained random ideas and thoughts that Mason had run through his head. While some were bad, such as his idea for an America’s Next Top Hunter television program, others, like the carpeted toilet seat, were terrible.

Craig began to toss the paper away when a note at the bottom of the page caught his attention.

Stolen stuff, it read, in locker 221. 46-13-72. Mostly diamonds and art.

Craig chuckled, than began to laugh. Only Mason would leave a note like this in his car. A $1,000,000 reward would be on Craig’s way in the near future as a show of appreciation for the recovery of these items.

For now, though, Craig had to make a bus. His family would never forgive him if he missed the wedding.

He grabbed his seat and silent hoped to find a store near the chapel. Amongst the chaos, it seems he had forgotten to pick up a present.

 

 

That concludes Landonburg or Bust. Thanks for your participation. I hope you were satisfied with the results. If not, you only have yourselves to blame.

Well, I guess you could blame me too.

Nevertheless, you are at least partly to blame.

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