Word Count: 60,022
Summary of Events:
Trace, somewhat forced by Dallis, helped her apply for a passport and was fretting over the fact that it could take as long as a month for the passport to get delivered while sitting around in Sioux Falls, where they'd stopped. Dallis hadn't enjoyed sitting around, and being as Trace seemed intent to sit around and wait for the passport, decided to leave. Trace woke up at quarter after three and found Dallis missing, so he set out after her. Dallis was cold, so she managed to find her way into a showhome and go to sleep in one of the beds. Trace, absolutely exhausted, having been searching for Dallis for three hours, was picked up by police because they thought he was drunk. Dallis was woken up in the showhome by a couple of police officers, who placed her under arrest for breaking and entering, however, Dallis refused to let them handcuff her and ran out to their car to prevent as much . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
"The policemen hurried outside, their weapons drawn, and looked around before one of them — the one who'd been called Sutherland — climbed into the car and picked up a thing a lot like what Trace had on his radio.
"We've got a fugitive from the break and enter at the showhome," he said.
"No you don't," Dallis said.
"Yes we do, what are you talking about?" he asked.
"I didn't say anything," a voice replied over the radio.
"Then who–" he turned around and cried out in alarm, staring at her wide-eyed.
"What's going on in there?" the other man hollered.
"I've found her!" Sutherland cried.
"What?" the other man asked.
"She's in the backseat," Sutherland said.
The other man came over and peered in the window before straightening in surprise and going around to the driver's seat.
"Scratch that," Sutherland said into the radio. "Apparently wanted to get into the car by herself or something. We've got her."
The doors closed, the car was manoeuvred away from the curb by the man Dallis didn't know a name for, while Sutherland leaned back and seemed to be recovering from the fright she'd given him.
"Why couldn't you just let us lead you to the car?" the driver asked.
"Because no one touches me," Dallis replied.
"And why can't anyone touch you?" the driver asked.
"Because that is an invasion of my personal space," Dallis replied.
"So you have a problem with your personal space being invaded," the driver said.
"I do," Dallis replied.
"You know that we'll have to frisk you at the station, right?" the driver asked.
"What does that mean?" Dallis asked.
"Feel you over to see if you're hiding any weapons on your person," Sutherland replied.
"Not on your life," Dallis snapped.
"Yes on your life," the driver replied. "And don't worry, it'll be a female officer."
"I don't care," Dallis replied. "No one touches me, and I mean no one."
"And what happens if they do?" Sutherland asked.
"They regret it instantly," Dallis replied.
"You have something to hide then," the driver said.
"Nothing that isn't rightfully mine," Dallis replied.
"Like what?" Sutherland asked.
"My body," Dallis replied.
"And?" Sutherland asked, turning around to look at her.
"Everything else is in my backpack, other than what I'm wearing," Dallis replied. "I don't have anything else."
"No knives?" Sutherland asked. "No guns?"
"No," Dallis replied. "I don't need them."
"That's good to know," Sutherland said. "No drugs."
"What kind of lunatic do you think I am?" Dallis spat.
"Okay," Sutherland said. "That's good, I was just wondering."
Dallis crossed her arms and glared at him.
"No money?" the driver asked.
"No," Dallis replied. "I've only ever seen money, I've never actually done anything with money."
"You didn't have an allowance as a kid or anything?" Sutherland asked, looking confused as he turned around to face her.
"What does that mean?" Dallis asked.
"You've never even . . ." Sutherland left the sentence unfinished, looking completely stunned."
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