The plane almost left without us; we were lucky that we didn't have much luggage. We managed to get the rest of my carry-no luggage, despite the large dent. I was certain that my toiletries were definitely smashed beyond use. There was the average crowd of people boarding the plane to New York, with the occasional loud and rowdy toddlers, the old couples who always look bored, and of course your frequent fliers. I never spotted the second man who wanted to kill my uncle, and I never did. Maybe the Guy had stopped him; thrown him in a dumpster. Maybe the Guy had stopped several people from getting to us and we didn't know about.

I certainly didn't.

And I didn't care. I just wanted to be off and away and out of Oakland, away from the Guy, and away from whatever kind of bad luck he had brought upon me and my friends. Okay, so maybe I didn't believe in luck, or fate, or whatever you want to call it. But I knew, wherever the Guy was, danger would follow him. And I knew the best way of me surviving was distancing myself from him. Nothing personal.

I let out a sigh of relief as I felt the plane lift off from Oakland Airport's tarmac and began its ascent into the sky. I looked over at my uncle. He had the seat closest to the window and he was staring out through it. I figured he would be staring out for the entire journey. To my left, I looked at Sheep, who had suddenly and unusually chosen in a last minute panic to come with us on our exodus to the Big Apple. Her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, strands of golden slivers splaying down the sides of her face like icicles. Her face expressed similarities: cold and frozen.

"Why were you at the airport today, Sheppard?" I asked her in a flat tone, the question coming off as a statement, rather than an inquiry. Sheep just stared down at her knees, of which she had been massaging ever since she sat down. She licked her lips before speaking.

"Something's wrong with Carlo."

I frowned, looking at her, but said nothing. I pressed on when she didn't continue.

"Well, what do you mean? What's wrong with Carlo?"

"Ant..." I saw the tiredness in her eyes. The look of longing for sleep. I saw that she didn't want to talk about it further, but I couldn't just let it slide. I kept going.

"What happened?"

She hung her head, paused to suck in a low sigh, and then told me everything. She told me that Carlo had begun acting strange around her when he learned about the Guy. She told me the night after Sheep and Carlo had learned of Oakland's unknown vigilante's existence, she had seen less and less of the burly Guatemalan. Sheep confessed that Carlo was acting skittish, even restless the rare occasions they had met, and every time she had asked him what was wrong. All she ever got was a brusque shake of the head and he would just change the subject. For those past days they met, Sheep felt like she was becoming ripped away from Carlo, by something she didn't even know what.

"And then I found this."

A two by four inch white paper card appeared in her hand and then was deposited into mine. On the card I could see short, slanted words written in familiar brisk hand writing. Carlo's handwriting. I looked into Sheep's tear filled eyes as she continued.

"It says that he knows who the Oakland Vigilante is, and he's gone to meet him."

I felt like my gut had all of sudden been hit with a knockout punch. The sound of the airplane's turbines filled my ears, ringing.

"When was this?" I asked.

"Last night." Sheep responded, her voice trailing off as she tried to confess he fears. "I think he did find out who he was and... he..."

My hand went to the back of my head to scratch an ominous itch.

"Well?" I stared at Sheep, eyes wide. "Have you heard from him since? Do you know where he is?"

Sheep shook her head, her lips trembling. She looked away, putting a clenched fist against the side of her head.

"I don't know, I don't know, Ant. I don't know." She muttered in a daze, looking all around her, but seeing none of it. Sheep had been torn away from pretty much her boyfriend, had seen man's throat slit, and was now on a flight to New York with absolutely no plan of what to do next. She was falling apart. And this was the same young woman I knew who looked danger in the eye and enjoyed it, who wouldn't say no to dare, no matter how stupid it was. Sheep was the kind of person not to back away from a fight, even if it meant losing a few teeth in the process. But now she wasn't fighting, or completing a dare, she wasn't even looking danger in the eye. It was worse. She was looking anxiety deep in the throat, and its teeth were set to clamp down all around her.

Sheep ran a shuddering, thin-fingered hand through her soft golden hair which now looked dull and wan in the overcast light that peeked through the small oval windows of the airliner.

"I don't know... what to do..." She admitted, her voice sounding empty and desolate. I watched her for five agonizing seconds, watched her stare at me, then at my snoring uncle, and then out the window. I just stared at Sheep until she met my eyes. I let out a short sigh, and straightened in my seat.

"Hey." I said, in my most confident voice. I knew I sounded anything but. But I continued anyway, forcing all of my assurance into my gaze as my eyes pierced Sheep's green and blue flaked irises. "When we get to New York, we'll get to sort out all of this, 'kay?"

"But we don't even know where Carlo is, or if he's alive, or-" Sheep stuttered, gesturing wildly with uncertain hands.

"Sheep. Stop. Take a deep breath." I took her hand in mine, noticing that her fingers were cold and shivering like crazy. I steadied them with my opposite hand over her shaking fingers.

"Whatever happens, I'm sure we'll figure it out. We'll find Carlo, and we are gonna sort this whole thing out."

Sheep stared at me like I was proposing that we jump out the plane. After a few seconds of the plane's turbulence in the background, Sheep spoke.

"How can you possibly figure out anything what's been going with Carlo? And in New York of all places?"

I sighed, hoping Sheep couldn't see the amount of doubt accumulating on my face, but I brushed it away.

"Because we'll figure it out together." I retorted, adding a little grin. Sheep kept staring at me. I admit now, that I look back on what I said in that moment was actually really stupid, but Sheep was nice enough not to point my gaff. My uncle, however, did.

"Anthony. That has got to be the most cliché thing I have ever heard you regurgitate." Bernie said, no longer snoring against the window. From the tone of his voice, I reckoned that he had slept away the events of the past hour. I was right. He looked at both us, then down at my hand over Sheep's. She withdrew it, and placed both her hands in her lap, looking away from me. My uncle laughed, waving away the tangible awkwardness in the air.

"Anthony here has a few distant cousins in New York." Bernie said, changing the subject. I stared at him, frowning, but said nothing. This was news to me. I had no idea I had any relatives besides my uncle, and I think my Bernie read my mind when he replied, "What? You really think the Corelli's just live in California? No, kid. We came from New York; the big city. And I think it's time you met a few of your relatives that aren't dead."

The frown that covered my brows now became a glare. I pursed my lips, shaking my head.

"And you were going to tell me this, when?"

Bernie tilted his head, his bald head catching the light. "When we got off at New York. But I decided to be nice for a moment and let you know now. So you can sleep on it."

"Sleep on it." I repeated through my teeth. I felt Sheep's hand land on mine, and I glanced down at it and then at her face. She was smirking.

"Don't worry." She said. "We'll figure this out. Together."

A Note from Yours Truly:

So, that's my story.

Well, most of it. Depends on how much you want to hear next. If a person like you wants to come back and visit me again to hear more, I'd be glad to tell more. But right now, I have to close up. It's getting near 3, for goodness sake. But I'll be here.

Waiting.