We found her.
Approximately an hour after that post went up this morning, I recieved an email from someone I've been talking to a bit over the last month or so. No name's given, ever. I have my suspicions, though. And I'm not overly happy with where those suspicions lead.
Shaun's been keeping me steady and focused. I feel like I'd have been flying in five directions at once if not for his getting me to focus better. It wasn't exactly panic. Something else. A mixture of manic energy and depressive anxiety, oscillating wildly. In all of this, this is the deepest anger and fear I have felt. For Tia. Maybe caring too much is a weakness, but if it is, I don't want that level of strength.
Anyway, I recieved an email with a street address in it. Nothing more, nothing less. The location was outside of the range Shaun and I had been searchign the last few days. There was some understandable supiscion, of course. I mean, obvious trap, right? Right? It was the only lead we'd gotten, though. I left some stuff behind at the hotel, but we moved into gear. We took a taxi from the hotel, and had the driver drop us off a few blocks from the location. Not an unreasonable precaution, I think. We stashed a few things and then went to check out the location.
Sure enough, the truck was parked outside. Is it bad that I'm glad that my truck wasn't trashed? I mean, I know it's selfish, but having a reliable vehicle is a plus.
The building seemed abandoned, but it did have power. That much was obvious. We made our way inside, and started searching. There was a basement apartment. Blake was there.
There was blood in the room. A good bit of it, too. The blood led off to the bathroom, where the shower was running. I was honestly almost afraid to go in, but I had to find Tia. No matter her state. She should have had to. She was there, huddled under the ice-cold spray, sobbing. We got her out and dried off, bundling her up against the cold. She was shaking so hard. I want to stop that pain.
Blake is dead. Shot with my revolver that he'd apparently taken from the truck. Believe me, I checked. I had to get the keys off of him, after all. He was dead when we got there. Probably happened not long before that post went up this morning. Tia's not talking.
That's when things went even more to pot for a little bit there.
Twisting, warping. Tearing. He was there. Standing over Blake. I called for Shaun to get Tia out. Maybe it's more accurate to say shouted? Cried? I followed, but it took a moment to get my legs to work properly. There are colors still. Colors and shadows and awareness. Blank spots that I wasn't even aware of before. Funny, that. This isn't about me, though. Can't focus on that right now.
We've been driving since then, and have finally stopped. Maybe we should keep driving, but Tia's not in the best way. I don't think there's anything physically serious, but... yeah. She's not talking about what happened. She's shocky, which obviously, I don't blame her for.
Blake was the most stable of the three of us, which is, of course, why he just had to fall. And possibly why he fell so hard. I don't want to know the extent of what happened in that little basement apartment, but on some level, I'm going to need to. Eventually. Comunication is invaluable. I'm hoping we can get her talking about at least normal stuff soon.
We have to figure out what to tell his family.
We'll manage. We have to.
We have to heal. Somehow.