No. I decided I needed to see Dalton for myself.
But I still needed another few hours of sleep before I could do that.
I laid back down and slept for a solid five and a half hours. I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to tackle anything that came my way.
My vidphone was flashing. Apparently I had slept through a phone call. I checked the message; it was from my mom. She looked upset. "Chelsee, honey. I just got a phone call from the police. They said that they think Chance is dead, but they haven't found a body. I'm so sorry, honey. Call me when you get this." She was withholding tears, and seeing her so upset made my eyes water, too. But I didn't have time now to dwell on it. They didn't find Chance's body either. Well, I wasn't going to get upset until all hope was gone. And it wasn't.
I started re-packing my purse, replacing usual things like my lucky deck of cards with a Swiss Army Knife. I even threw in a roll of duct tape. Anything could be fixed with duct tape. I didn't know what I was going to encounter, but I wanted to be prepared. As I mentally inventoried my purse and tried to think of everything I would need, I decided I needed a decent weapon. I used to keep a gun around the house, but I ended up giving it away to some children's World Peace organization. I was going to need another one.
Rook had guns. I should head over there and get one before I go anywhere else.
Before long, I was in front of Rook's. I could see his small, bitter stature through the window on my way in. He offered me a half-smile, which was one-half more than his usual countenance offered. I took it as a good sign.
"Hello, there, missy. What brings you in here today?"
"Actually, I just wanted to look through your gun supply. I don't feel safe in this city anymore."
"I understand what you mean. Louie told me what happened. I'm sorry, Chelsee."
"Thanks." I was genuinely surprised. Rook looked really sincere. Maybe he wasn't the mean old man I always took him for. "But I haven't given up on him yet."
"Of course not. The world needs its optimists." Before I could be offended he reached behind the counter and pulled out several handguns for me to look at. "Are these the kind you're looking for?"
I held one in my hand. It felt just right, nothing too challenging to handle. I hadn't shot a gun since my daddy taught me back when I was a teen. Holding the cold metal in my hands, it all came back to me. "This one will do just fine. I'll take it and two rounds of bullets." I really didn't think I'd use that many, but I didn't want to be understocked if I ran into serious trouble, either.
Rook went into the back, returned with two boxes and ran up the charge. I paid him, and was just about to leave when I remembered the receipt.
(Ask Rook about Tex's receipt--go to 15.)
(I need to get to Dalton's as soon as I can. Head to the speeder--go to 16.)