The Series of Unfortunate Events (pt. 6)

It took about fifteen minutes and I was starting to get really anxious, but the guard finally came back with my documents in his hand and signalled that I was good to go. With a sigh of relief, I grabbed my papers, rolled up my window, and pushed down on the gas pedal to drive forward. The further away I got from the ferry, the better I felt about my new mission.

I was aware that there were going to be multiple checkpoints from Villa San Giovanni to the border of France, so I had a long way to go before I was anywhere out of the red zone. All I could do was try to avoid them to the best of my capabilities, but then again I didn't know a lot of Italy, so it's not like I knew about backroads to take in order to avoid the checkpoints, and my car's gps was limited. It was always a possibility to force myself to avoid the checkpoints by getting lost and letting the gps guide me back to the main road, but that was even riskier because I could always drive right into a trap.

Not much was told to me about the crime units in mainland Italy, but I was very paranoid so it looks like I would be having to go through the checkpoints and praying to the holy Virgin Mary the entire way until the border with France. From there I could sneak through and finally make my way to the hideaway house I had bought as a gift to myself at the age of eighteen. Nobody knew about this house except for me. Not my parents, not my closest friends, nobody but me. And the servants I'd hired to work for me there but they were completely loyal to me so they didn't count.

The road was long, open and empty. It surprised me to see that not many people were out driving but then again it was midday and many people were at work. For the most part, I was able to drive down the streets almost at a hundred miles per hour without worrying about crashing into someone.

There didn't seem to be many police officers around either. I tuned into the news radio station and tried to piece together the pieces of Italian that I could manage to understand. It wasn't much, but from what I could gather, police had it in their minds that the suspect they were looking for was still in Sicily so the citizens of mainland Italy didn't have to worry.

"Fools," little did they know, the fugitive they were looking for was already four hours deep into mainland Italy. By the time they caught on and began searching for me in the mainland, I would be closer to France than they thought. It felt so good to be smart.

My fingers tapped the steering wheel to the rhythm of imaginary music, and my foot pressed down on the gas pedal a little harder. Even though my driving had totalled up to about seven hours and I still had sixteen or so hours to go until I crossed the French border, I seemed to be ahead of schedule thanks to the speed I was going at. Honestly it was risky to drive this fast. The speed I was going at did not tolerate any type of surprise whatsoever. One false move and I'd roll over like a sausage.

Speaking of sausages, I was already starting to feel hungry, so I took the knife and tried my best to cut a piece of calzone with only one hand. It was a difficult task because I really underestimated how hard it would be to cut a thick piece of baked good with only one hand while controlling the wheel that steered the vehicle going at ninety-something miles an hour with the other hand.

When the gps warned me that there was a speed trap ahead of me, I was forced to slow down. The same cycle took place over and over again as I drove through Italy. I passed through hundreds of small towns and through larger cities during my drive, and by the time I reached another checkpoint, twelve hours overall had gone by making it the middle of the night. Nine more hours to go.

I pulled my mask up again and prepared to hand the police officers my ID. Suddenly there was a line of cars and I had to slow down to get in behind them. My anxiety once again was through the roof, and I began chewing on my bottom lip. Of all the times for these police officers to do their jobs quickly and efficiently. My biggest thought was just turning around and booking it. Surely they couldn't arrest me for that, right?

But no, there was no way I would be able to turn around and run without facing some kind of trouble and going off course. I'd just have to try and get through this as quickly and trouble free as possible.

When it was my turn to roll down the window, I almost wet myself. This police officer was terrifying and he looked so upset. There was absolutely no way I was going to get out of this without any complications. I signaled that I did not speak Italian and the officer sighed deeply. It was obvious that he was trying not to yell at me. "Lower your mask."

With a deep breath, I sucked in my cheeks again and lowered the mask just enough to show him my face, but not enough to show him my jawline. "Why are you doing so many checkpoints?"

"We are looking for a fugitive," he took a look at my documents then back at me, then back at the documents, and finally, he spoke. "You are sure your name is Clari Cunningham?"

That was the name the politician chose for me? What the hell? I hadn't paid attention to the name of the documents, I'd only looked at the quality of the image and the date of birth. Nevertheless, I nodded and pulled my mask back up before he could get a second look. "I'm sorry but I am sick and it is very contagious."

"Right. Wait here."

I sighed and sat back in my seat once again, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and waiting impatiently for the police officer to return with my things. If I ran into more checkpoints like this, then this was going to be a very long night.