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Unconventional Methods

















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Blast From the Past
Fan fiction and fond (mostly) memories of soap days gone by


Unconventional Methods


Chapter Eight

There was a hope in the eyes of the McHughs and Sheridan prayed that it would never have to die. They'd been through so much already in these past two months.

"Now think back to the vision. You saw a school. Did you see anything that might indicate where this school might be located?" Phillips inquired.

Sheridan closed her eyes for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, trying to remember. It was useless. She covered her face with her hands, the headache that started earlier this afternoon was getting worse.

"I'm sorry. But that's all I could see. All I know is that I got the feeling that he was holding her in a house next to the building. We have gone over this a million times," Sheridan said as her voice started to crack from the pressure she was feeling.

"Look Agent Phillips," Luis said. "Can't you just let her rest for the night. She's not going to be of any use to anyone if she's too tired."

Agent Phillips hesitantly relented. Everyone was tired and getting extremely edgy. She didn't want anything to add to that tension.

Sheridan fell asleep on the way back to her apartment. When they arrived, she looked so peaceful, he didn't want to wake her. He hoped that her dreams would be good ones tonight. Sheridan wasn't a light sleeper. It took a while to wake her.

An hour later, Luis was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of warm milk. He couldn't sleep. He was thinking about Sheridan and what she told him about her past and the ability she had gained after the experience.

He couldn't even begin to imagine being connected to a psycho. He wondered how deep the connection went. Did she feel what he felt? See what he saw? Or was she just a passive observer?

There was a noise coming from the living room. He pulled out his gun and went to check it out. In the living room was Sheridan. She was digging through drawers as if looking for something important

"Sheridan. What are you doing?" he asked.

Curiously, Sheridan didn't answer. She just kept digging. He slowly approached her. As he stepped up to her, Luis saw that she was holding a sketch book and pencil. He watched as she sat down at the coffee table and started sketching.

When she was done, she got up from the floor. She left the book on the table. He followed her back to her bedroom to make sure she made it there safely. He closed the door as she settled back into bed.

For a minute, Luis listened outside her door in case she should get up again. She didn't. Slowly, he made his way back downstairs. He entered the living room and hesitated. He stared at the sketch book for a couple seconds before going to look at it.

His eyes widened as he picked it up. Yet another surprise from the lovely Sheridan Crane. It was a beautiful, well-drawn picture.

It was the picture of a school playground. Near the seesaw was a girl that looked like Rachel McHugh. Behind her, next to the school building was a small church that looked abandoned. Across the top of the sketch, in block letters was written, Westford Baptist Church, Westford, Mass.

Westford was just 10 miles south of Harmony. Luis looked at his watch. 5 AM. He hadn't realized how late, or rather, how early it was. Luis didn't care what time it was. He had to get in touch with the FBI to tell them where this place was and get Rachel out of there.





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