Waypoint: Cache Quest Oregon by Shauna Rice-Schober[thriller] Read Free Book Online Page A

script. Ben stood and looked around the stage again. Everyone in the audience was whispering now, Ben was starting to sweat from the bright lights and overwhelming embarrassment.
    “You shall do the thing you want to do.” Ben replied, trying again to sound as girlish and as Shakespearean as possible. The two men looked at him again, their eyes piercing into him. Suddenly the man who had originally pulled Ben on stage said,
    “Oh Miranda, I have forgotten something, join me for the retrieval.” he grabbed Ben’s hand, and started pulling him offstage, as Ben was trying to move with the force, his tennis shoe got stuck in the slip of the large gown and he fell, the bottom of the dress ripping loudly on stage. He stood, with his blue jeans showing through the huge tear in his dress, and his blonde wig, twisted awkwardly on his head. He looked at the audience, not knowing what to say, he lifted his hand and with an awkward wave loudly said,
    “Enjoy the show.” As the audience roared with laughter Ben exited the stage with the man who had drug him on in the first place.
    “Who are you?” a woman’s voice called out from behind them. “I came up here and found you on stage in my place.” She was also wearing a large gown and had on a matching blonde wig. They both stared at Ben expecting an answer. Suddenly Ben made a run for it, he headed straight back down the stairs, not knowing what to do he slipped into a small doorway labeled “lighting” at the bottom of the stairs. As he entered he saw that the room extended the entire way under the stage. TV screens lined one wall, and under each was a computer, he assumed to change lighting features during the show.
    “What’s up?” one of the men sitting at the screens asked him. They didn’t turn around, so Ben said nothing and just looked around. He lifted the torn skirt of his dress as he wandered to the location that the GPS had said to go; at this point he was directly under the same spot he had been standing on stage.
    One of the men turned around to see what he was doing. “Need something?” he asked in an annoyed tone. “Actors are not supposed to be down here!” he said with an even more annoyed tone.
    “Oh I just need, um…” he continued to look around then saw a leather bound booklet labeled The Tempest on the table that lined the monitored wall in front of him, “Oh, I just need to look at that.” He said as he pointed to the script. The man handed it to him, then turned once again, with a loud sigh of irritation and focused on the monitors. Ben thumbed through the script, not noticing anything right away; he walked backward to the door, and then slowly poked his head out to make sure the coast was clear.
    No one was around; he could hear the bustling of the dressing room, knowing how he looked he put one hand on the skirt to hold it in place and lifted the script in front of his face to block anyone from seeing him. He quickly slipped around the corner and found Lacey hiding in a small alcove by some electrical meters.
    “This is all I could find.” Ben said as he handed it to her. “I got pulled on stage, wow that was awful!” his face was still red with humiliation.
    “Well, all we can do is look.” Lacey said as she sat on the floor and began to flip through the script. In addition to the character’s lines this copy had technical directions for the lighting crew, it showed different angles and numbers indicating certain lights that needed illumination at various times. “There are a lot of numbers in here.” She said as she thumbed through it. Ben sat down next to her and rested his head on his knees. She glanced over each page hoping that something would jump out at her as different. Half way through she thought she had found it. “Hey check this out, right after Ferdinand speaks, in parentheses it says, 44 degrees 44’49.7” North and 124 degrees 3’57.1” West, in the grains of the devil’s drink, be careful- do not sink.”