I've been searching around for the last week, but with just a first name to go by, it's hard to pick one person out of a few billion. Even harder to go off a person in a picture taken almost thirty years ago. If I had better resources...or maybe just my old office, maybe we'd get some kind of trace. Not here, though.
I may have to take it to the library or some higher server. Don't know where I'd find one out here, so I may have to venture into the city for theirs. Not relishing that trip.
I'm currently...not exactly in hiding, but not exactly in the humble city surroundings that I'm used to. This town is literally in the middle of nowhere, but the people are nice enough, all forty-something of them. It's forced me to come up with an entirely new routine, but seeing as how their police department has a total of three officers, I can pretty much walk about in my disheveled appearance with no more than a disapproving look from the old lady whose house is next to the town church.
My house, which is more of a rundown shack- which is pretty much all I can live in, it's not like I can really buy a house at the moment- just has the living essentials and that's it. Internet is absolutely shit. I'm leeching off the nearest house. Half the time I'm amazed I can actually post anything. There's a generator in the back, which I've gotten fuel for. So I have power. Other than that...there's really nothing else to say about it. It's freezing cold, I swear to God there's a raccoon hanging from the rafters, and I can't get one of the windows to shut all the way, but it's home.
Now, the big question I'm sure you're all asking: Have I had any visitors?
Just one. Early on. And I dealt with him.
Not him, otherwise I don't think I'd be typing this today. Just one of his boys that decided he really wanted to be loyal and bring me in to him. Currently he's out back, six feet under the ground. That's what loyalty to that freak gets you. Four missing fingertips, ten cracked toes, a cut-up face and a bullet through the chest.
But I haven't truly seen him since that night in the warehouse...that night...
I don't know...finding someone who any number of things could have happened to in thirty years is not the easiest thing in the world, but I'm doing the best I can. I'm going to need a bigger mainframe. Looks like that trip is unavoidable, so I'd better start planning. One fuck-up, and I'll have Fisk's entire horde coming down on me.
A couple notes to other bloggers:
Danny- Get out of there. The situation is compromised. Shannon isn't going to go willingly; she may in fact be under his...whatever he does. The chances of both of you leaving on your own terms are slim. Get out while you can, however you can. I know you think I'm a psycho, but if somewhere in that very limited brain of yours is any survival instincts, however small they may be, listen to them and hit the road.
Celeste- I don't know what you'd have me do. I'm doing what I can to survive right now. Maybe when this is all over I'll send a condolence card, but right now the less he knows the better off he is. And what I said wasn't exactly far off from the truth.
Plus, your friend asked me to help. I was already doing that. Doesn't really effect the way I go about my day.
Alright, that's it for the moment. I'll update again when I've made my trip.