Ravenvale, Chapter 1
Word Count: 3103 Rating: This chapter: G; overall story: explicit Warnings: None at this time Summary: On their way home from another case, Agent Seaborne and Agent Roach find themselves in the strange, fog-covered town of Ravenvale. Notes: Seaborne and Roach AU where, years after the events seen in the YouTube series, they manage to become FBI agents.
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It was some time after midnight when Seaborne starting hearing the light snoring. A glance to the right confirmed his colleague, Roach, was sound asleep in the passenger seat. Seaborne didn't blamed him; it had been a long day for both of them. After driving for six hours to Tucson, Arizona for a supposed alien-sighting, it turned out to only be some jerk in a modified Bigfoot costume. Now they had to drive another six hours back to Vegas and then take a four hour plane ride just to get back to their home state. It was days like these that made the brunet in his mid-thirties wonder why he became an FBI agent in the first place.
He looked over at Roach again. The answer, of course, was obvious. While Seaborne was perfectly happy being a private detective, when his blond friend applied to join the federal bureau of investigations he had to apply, too.
‘Someone has to keep an eye on you,’ he rationalized. The truth was that anywhere Roach went, Seaborne would follow. It had been that way ever since they are kids. Even now, as he looked over at his 6’7” companion, he still saw that young boy with a dopey bowl cut that he had met way back in first grade. Under that chinstrap beard and ever-rising pompadour, deep down Roach hadn't changed much, not where it mattered.
It had been Roach’s idea to accept this case, just like all the paranormal cases they investigated. He was, had always been, obsessed with aliens and the supposedly inexpiable. Sometimes it was downright irritating but there was this other side to him that Seaborne found irrationally endearing. Roach saw the world in a unique way, like there was mystery and intrigue everywhere, which gave him a strangely attractive quality, and was one of the many reasons his FBI partner loved him.
Of course it was that curious spirit that now brought them to this lonely road, in the middle of nowhere, with only their headlights to light their way. Not even the moon was shining. It and the stars were completely obscured by dense clouds overhead. The desert road was so straight and the scenery so bland and unremarkable that if it weren't for the occasional mile marker, Seaborne might have sworn they weren't getting anywhere. The extreme monotony was starting to wear down his resolve to stay awake. He thought about turning on the car radio but he didn't want to disturb Roach. The tall man deserved a rest as much as anybody and wasn't going to get any on the long plane ride later.
Rubbing his eyes, Seaborne tried to keep himself from drifting off to sleep himself, but he wasn't sure if he was going to last much longer. He didn’t know exactly where they were, or how far it was to the next town. He had half a mind to pull over and sleep in the car until morning instead of waiting until they found a motel. It wouldn't be comfortable, but it was a better alternative than falling asleep at the wheel.
‘No,’ he told himself. ‘We can't be that far away from civilization. Just a bit further.’ He blinked hard and readjusted his hands on the steering wheel. He was certain that any moment now an exit sign for some town or another would appear on the horizon, leading him somewhere with a bed and indoor plumbing. He wished he could check his GPS, but both his and Roach’s cell phones had died hours ago, and neither had thought to bring a car charger on this trip.
Seaborne didn't know how much longer he drove with only his thoughts for company. Eventually he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. Sighing, he pulled over and parked the sedan a few feet off the road so that they wouldn't get rear-ended by any passing traffic. Putting back the seat of the tan rental car, he did his best to get comfortable. After one last glanced at Roach, he closed his eyes and seconds later he too was fast asleep.
~
Roach woke first. He stretched his neck, slightly stiff from leaning against a car door all night. Pulling his large framed glasses out from the neck of his white buttoned shirt, he put them on and looked out the window. He expected to see some unknown parking lot or, at least, a few buildings. What he did not expect was to see nothing. Nothing but white.
Seaborne, to his left, was laying back and sound asleep. His mouth was slightly ajar, sure proof of his unconsciousness. Roach gave him a gentle shake to rouse his companion awake and the brunet just moaned, groggily.
“Uh… Matthew…” he muttered. Roach made a face then shook the man harder.
“Wake up, man. You're having that dog dream again.” Finally Seaborne opened his eyes and looked up. For a moment he didn’t know where he was but he quickly recalled the events that led him to be lying down in a strange car.
“Morning,” he managed with a stretch.
“Morning. Did I miss anything last night?”
“Just a long, boring nothing.” Seaborne closed his eyes, unsure if he wanted to be fully awake just yet. “Most boring state ever.”
“I’m guessing we didn’t make it back to Vegas,” Roach noted, looking back out the window.
“Yeah, sorry. I couldn’t stay awake. You want to take over driving?”
“On what? I can’t even see the road.” Seaborne’s eyes snapped open and looked up at his friend in confusion. “I didn’t know you could get fog in the desert.” After a moment, the brunet pulled his chair back straight and got his first look at the new view. The fog was so thick, he could barely make out the street just a few feet away.
“Must be a lake nearby.” He rolled down the window of his car a few inches and stuck his hand out. A few tiny droplets collected on his fingertips. “It’s still cold from last night. I’m sure the sun will eventually evaporate this away. Until then, we can just take it slow.”
“You want to drive in this?”
“You want to walk?” Roach grimaced and thought about this for a second. He didn’t have to answer vocally. His feelings on the matter were all too obvious. “That’s what I thought,” Seaborne continued. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot shower.” After making sure his seat-belt was firmly in place, he brought his hand to the car keys, still in the ignition, and gave them a good turn.
Nothing happened.
Frowning, he pulled the keys out and put them back in before turning the ignition again. Still nothing. No whine, no click, nothing. The whole thing seemed dead.
“You ran outta gas,” Roach suggested.
“Impossible; I had at least half a tank left when I pulled over.” Frustrated, he turned the key again. Nothing.
“Battery must be dead. You leave the headlights on or something?”
“I don’t think I did.” Another turn, but to no avail. He thought back to the night before, trying to remember if he had left the lights on or not. He couldn’t remember.
“I guess we’re walking after all,” Roach grumbled, unhooking his seat-belt. Seaborne fell back in his chair, defeated. “How far to the next town?”
“I have no idea,” Seaborne bemoaned.
“Great. Let’s go, then.” With an angry sigh, Roach opened the glove compartment. There were two glock 22’s inside, standard issue. He passed one to his partner before taking his own and stepping out of the car. He didn't think they'd need to be armed but he didn't want to leave them in the car either. It wasn't protocol. Seaborne locked the car out of habit, noting internally how pointless it was to lock a car that wouldn't start when there weren't even any valuables inside.
Roach buttoned up his dark blue suit jacket and stuffed his hands into his pants’ pockets. For being a desert, it had gotten amazingly cold and the thick, damp air wasn’t helping. Seaborne wasn't any better off with his own brown suit, but he still wished he had a hat or something to protect his ears. The two men exchanged a quick look before they started to trudge down the road, hoping their journey to the next town would be a short one.
They walked on in silence. Seaborne was too busy chastising himself for letting the car battery die to make any sort of conversation and Roach was trying to remember what he learned in high school science class about how fog formed. Normally it required both low temperatures and high humidity but he couldn’t understand why either of those things were in the desert. It just didn’t make any sense.
The car quickly faded from view and soon they could only see the roadside and each other. It was like the rest of the world ceased to exist completely leaving an eerie stillness that permeated the air almost as much as the fog itself. Seaborne lost track of time just watching himself place one foot in front of the other, over and over. Roach did much the same, occasionally bring a finger up to wipe the water droplets that collected on his large-rimmed glasses.
Despite Seaborne’s hope that the heat of the sun, somewhere in the sky beyond his sight, would cause the thick vapor to dissipate, the haze remained unchanged as they walked along. They continued to venture forward into the unknown until, finally, a strange light began to emerge in the distance. Seaborne nudged his companion who pulled his gaze from his feet to look where his partner was pointing. It was a sickly, red color, but they couldn’t quite make out it’s source. Without a word both men increased their pace to investigate.
Slowly the origin of the light came into view. A sign, about forty feet up, was adorned with tall letters blazing out two words in red neon: ‘Motel’ and ‘Vacancy’. Seaborne let out a deep breath of relief. He didn’t know what town they were entering or if this was just a truck stop motel. He didn’t care. All he wanted was a hot shower, a simple breakfast, and the use of an indoor toilet. He was certain he would be able to find at least one of those and he was more than looking forward to it.
“About time,” Roach murmured, wiping his glasses again. “I hope there’s a gas station nearby.” He strained his eyes to see through the fog but besides the sign, he could still see nothing. It wasn’t until a short walk later that the motel building came into view. The two-story structure was painted an ugly, faded pink and was shaped like a square U. The parking lot, situated in the center, didn't seem to have any cars parked in it, but the fog was just as thick here as anywhere. There could have been a semi truck in the lot and the two men wouldn't have seen it.
“They should at least have a phone so we can call a tow.” Seaborne checked his wristwatch. He mostly wore it as a fashion piece, but with his cellphone dead he was glad to have it. “If we’re lucky, we still might make it back in time for our flight.”
“They probably only have a pay phone,” Roach commented. “This place looks like it was built in the seventies. You got any change?”
“No, but they've got to have an office phone we can use.” ‘I hope,’ he added to himself. The building did look a bit run down, but if the sign was on that meant it was still in business and any motel still in business surely had a reliable telephone.
As they opened the front door to the lobby, a tiny room with a short counter and a potted plant, they expected to see someone, anyone, around. A small, metal bell rang out as the door opened and closed, but no one came to see the two men arriving. Seaborne stepped up to the counter while Roach looked around, straightening his red and grey striped tie.
“Hello?” Seaborne called out. Another door, behind the counter, was closed and marked with a small plaque. ‘Employees Only’ it read. Beside the door were rows of numbered cubbies, obviously for housing keys to the various rooms. There was a clock on the wall, but all the hands were missing. Neither man saw any sign of a telephone either.
“Check it out, Seaborne.” Roach motioned towards the potted plant, grabbing and rubbing one of the giant leaves. “It's fake.”
“Guess they're not big on watering,” Seaborne replied, not really listening. He turned back towards the closed door. “Hey! Is anyone there? We could use some assistance, please!”
“They should get a cactus then,” Roach continued. “I mean, we are in a desert, and you don't have to water them much.” Ignoring his companion’s vocalization of internal dialogue, Seaborne stepped around the corner to knock on the door behind the counter.
Just as he brought up his hand to knock, the door swung open and a very short, old woman was on the other side. Her grey hair was poofed up like cauliflower, and she wore a floral blouse with an almost matching pleated skirt. On her face sat a large pair of pink-framed glasses that made her grey eyes seem twice normal size. Barely coming up to Seaborne’s chest, she seemed to be the essence of sweet, little old lady.
“Oh! Hello, dearie! I didn't know we had customers.” She gave the brown-haired agent a sweet smile. “You staying in town for awhile? We have lots of rooms!” She walked easily under Seaborne’s still outstretched arm and looked over the row of cubbies.
“Uh, no… Ma’am, we…” Seaborne cleared his throat, collecting himself before continuing. “Our car broke down and we could use-”
“I've got some nice, east-facing rooms,” the woman continued, as if she had not heard him speak. “You can see the sun rise in the morning. Don't you love that? Oh I do love the sunrise.”
“Ma’am?” Seaborne asked again. The woman finally looked up, confused for a moment.
“Hmm? Oh! No customers behind the counter! No no no, not allowed.” Gently she grabbed his elbow and guided him back around the counter. “There you are. Rules are rules, dearie. Now. Do you gentlemen want two rooms? One? I can give you-”
“No!” he interrupted, a bit louder than he intended. The old woman stopped immediately, but just looked up at him, expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Uh, I'm Agent Seaborne and this is my partner, Agent Roach.” Roach smiled and offered a small wave. “Our car broke down. Do you have a phone we could use?”
“Agent? Oh my, are you spies?” The woman smiled, a slight tone of titillation in her voice. “How exciting.” Before Seaborne could correct her, Roach spoke up.
“That’s right, ma’am. We’re on a secret mission but we could use your help.” Seaborne gave him a confused look but he ignored it and the woman didn't notice.
“Oh, well I'd love to help you if I can. I'm Miss Marble.” She offered her hand and Roach stepped forward to shake it. “How can I help you boys?”
“Well, Miss Marble, our car broke down. We could use a tow. Do you have a phone we could borrow?”
“Oh, our phone hasn't worked in years, I'm afraid. But there's a gas station just up the road.” She pointed for emphasis. “Doug and his brother Darrell should be able to get you two fixed up in no time. Nice boys. Known them since they were in diapers, you know.”
“Thank you very much, Ma’am,” Seaborne cut in, as kindly as possible. “I guess we'll go to talk to them then.”
“You sure you two don't want a room? The festival’s tomorrow and they fill up fast.”
“No thank you. We have a flight to catch and we won't be-”
“What festival?” Roach interrupted.
“Oh it'll be a lovely time, you'll see. Everyone in town will be there.”
“What town are we in, exactly?” Seaborne asked, suddenly realizing that he hadn't before.
“You're in Ravenvale, dear. We're not a big town but we've got big hearts. Oh you must stay for the festival tomorrow, especially if you've never been. I promise you've never seen anything like it.”
“We'll see,” Seaborne said before Roach could promise anything. “We do have a, uh, important case were on. Right, Roach?”
“Very important.” Roach gave Miss Marble a sly wink. “Very top secret.” The woman blushed and gave a little giggle.
“Well, you boys stay out of trouble then. Be careful out there in the fog. It's awfully thick out there today.” Roach opened the door and held it open for Seaborne who moved to leave but then paused for a moment.
“Is there often fog around here?”
“Oh always around this time of year. I'm sure it will clear up soon.” Not quite satisfied, Seaborne smiled and nodded goodbye before ducking out, quickly followed by Roach. As they headed along the road once more, Roach shook his head.
“She’s hiding something,” he stated, matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“I don't know what, but she’s up to something. I can tell.”
“She looks almost seventy. What’s she going to be up to? Running a drug cartel?”
“No, of course not, but she is hiding something.” It was useless for Seaborne tell his partner he was being paranoid. It would be like telling a sloth it's being lazy. Trying to think about something else, he changed the subject.
“You ever hear of Ravenvale?”
“Nope,” Roach replied, pushing up his glasses. “But I didn't memorize all the towns in the United States before I left town yesterday.”
“I guess.”
“What're you thinking?”
“I don't know. It's probably nothing. I just want to get back home. I'm sick of this fog. The whole damn state to be honest. This whole trip has been a big waste of time.”
“I still say that farmer in Tucson was working for the government.” Seaborne gave his friend an incredulous look.
“We work for the government,” he reminded him.
“You're so naive, man. You think just because we’re FBI now, that the government tells us everything they're up to? Wake up, man.” Seaborne sighed. The argument was old and tired. Shaking his head, he let it go. There were just some things that never changed.
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