Trepidation Part 8

In case you haven't been able to tell, I've sorda been avoiding writing this next part because I don't want to ruin this story. I really like it, but I can't think of what to do with it. I've thrown in enough twists, I think it's about time to start the curve where questions will start being answered, not asked, (of course, I'm probably going to write this next part and solve nothing, and confuse everything, and there's really nothing wrong with that, as long as I can bring it all together in the end, which is my problem isn't it? hmm, maybe I should stop accepting the twists to just keep coming, maybe I need to have the attitude that I'm really just digging myself in a deeper hole, hmm....) Well anyway, bear with me, this could get interesting.

Later that night, Rick laid in his bed thinking,

"I'm no Jason Bourne, or Ben Gates," he thought, "This isn't going to be easy to figure out, I know that, but that doesn't mean that sitting and waiting for something to happen is going to help anything"

And with that thought, Rick lifted himself out of bed and slipped on a pair of jeans and the same black hoodie he had been wearing the night this had all started. He eased open his window as carefully as possible and lifted himself out. He was lucky, because he had his own room and he was in the basement. Once he was in the window well he gently eased his window shut, leaving it open just a titch (I don't really care if that's not a word).

He went through the back door into the garage and grabbed a shovel (oh man, that would be a sweet place to leave you all hanging, but I have only written like 2 paragraphs, and I want to see where this goes just as bad as you do). Quickly he crossed the street, trying to stay in the shadows as he headed toward the spot where he had seen the picture and the knife (holy crap, I've still got to work the knife in somehow, wow this is going to be fun).

It took him almost three hours, plus a lucky guess as to where he should start digging so that he would come right down on the two objects. His arms were burning, and he quickly shoveled the dirt back in. He had been careful to lift the newly-laid sod off so that he didn't destroy it, and now that he was done, he put it back over the dirt, which was about an inch below the grass around it. Once he was back in his room he turned on his reading lamp to get a better look at the objects. The knife was a fixed hunting knife, it was made by the "Buck Knife Company" as the handle specified. It felt fairly sharp to Rick, though he was no knife expert. It was clear to see, however, that it had been well taken care of through several years.

After just a few minutes of examining the knife, Rick turned his attention to the picture. The printout was clearly recent, more than he could say for the woman in the picture next to him. It was laminated, and the excess plastic had not been trimmed. There were bubbles in the lamination,

"Whoever laminated this must have been in a hurry." thought Rick,

He recognized the image of himself that had been photoshopped into the picture, it was of him on the first day of school.

"Wait a second, I posted that picture on my blog!" he thought, "That's where they must have gotten it! Man, you might as well call me Bourne, he's got nothin' on me!"

As he dwelt on this lightening thought for a moment he thought to look on the back of the picture. There were just two words written in scratchy handwriting:

Find him.