The search for paradise

Chapter 1

Hey guys, I had finished three chapter of this and each chapter took up at least two pages and it was some of my best work but my laptop went funny and deleted the whole thing D:. Sorry, I will try and write another. Let's see if I can rewrite this baby...here goes.

My heart thumps as I watch him pace up and down outside the car where I was sitting in the backseat. Eventually he groans, kicks a stone halfway across the petrol station and gets back in the car. Then he turns to me, his brown eyes wide and innocent.
"Why aren't you fighting back?" he asked in distress.
"Uh?"
"I just kidnapped you for Christ's sake! Aren't you going to stop me?"
"I can do karate if you really want me too..."
"No!"
"Sorry," I sank back into the hard seat. "Can I sit in the front?"
"No! What sort of kidnapper lets his victims sit in the front?"
"Can I have some more crisps?" I crumpled the recent packet he had given me to shut up whining that I was hungry.
"What? No!"
"But I'm really really really really really-"
"Fine!" He opened up the glove compartment and pulled out a maltesers box. "Here," he said, chucking it at me. It narrowly missed my ear and went flying over the seat so I had to twist and reach into the boot of the car to get it.
"Can we have on some music?" I asked.
"What type?"
"Do you have Seven Nation Army?"
"What? No, I don't have Seven Nation Army! I don't even know what it is!"
"You have never lived." I reach forward and turn on the music. My hands swivel the small pad until I find the song.
"I'm gonna fight em all!" I sing at the top of my voice. "A Seven Nation Army couldn't hold me back!" I could tell that my kidnapper was itching to sing along but trying to keep the bad guy reputation.
"They're gonna rip it off! Taking their time right behind my-" before I could continue he flipped it off.
"You should really take lessons," he muttered. I ignored him and continued singing without the music.
"And I'm talking to myself at night but I can't forget!"
"Shut up!" he said angrily. His volume surprised me and I stopped singing. "Now, how do you start this thing then?" he said, clapping his hands together.
"What you mean this isn't your car?"
"Well duh it's not my car, I don't have the money to pay for a car! That's why I'm kidnapping you for a ransom!"
"So that's why the police are running towards us then."
"What?! Kill me now!"
"If you insist."
"Where are the keys...damn, it there's none in  there." A red light started flashing in his face. "No petrol?! You have to be kidding me! Right were are..." he felt around in his pocket and gasped. "My skeleton keys!" he tried to stand up but hit his head on the roof and got forced back down again. "Ow!"
I groaned and clambered into the front seat. Swiftly, I pulled out the ejection button and revealed a variety of different coloured wires.  "Got anything sharp?"
"Huh?"
"Urgh," I groaned and stuck my hand in his pocket. He protested as I fished out a gleaming pocket knife and snapped the red wire. Then I reconnected it to the green wire. But I wasn't done yet. I scampered out of the car and grabbed the petrol tank sitting on it's side. Unsure of where to put it I emptied the whole lot of it randomly and for good measure, threw the tank in too. Then I hopped back into the car.
"Come on then, go!" I shrieked, waving him on. He accelerated away, leaving the police crestfallen.

"I love it when I save the day," he gloated, looking in the mirror. What a pain in the backside.
"Of course I did nothing."
"Nah, you helped a little." I scowled at him and turned away. His phone started to ring so he picked it up, abandoning the boasting.
"Hello?" the crackly voice said from the other end.
"Hi, it's me, James."
"James, you don't have much time left..."
"Look, I know. I've got it covered."
"Really? How?"
"I'm doing a ransom."
"A-what?! James, that's insane!"
"What else do you suggest?"
"I-fine. Who's kid is it? Harrison's? Kolby's?"
"Greengrass's."
"What?! He's the bloomin' richest man in flippin' London!"
"I know, don't worry-it's all fine."
"Jeez man, you are so going to jail."
"Gotta go, talk later." He hung up and chucked his mobile in the back.
"He's right, you're so going to jail when my dad hears about this. James."
"I'm not James, that name is fake. My name is Scade."
"Why did he call you James?"
"You can never be too careful with people," he sighed.
"Do you have any more maltesers?" he turned and looked at me in shock.
"You're kidding me right?"
"No."
"Fine! Here's a chocolate bar! Man, I knew rich kids were spoilt brats but you are taking this too far!" I snatched it off him and ravenously stuffed it in my mouth. Scade watched the pantomime, shaking his head.
"Road!" I suddenly screamed. "Look at the road!" he looked just in time and swerved around a blue Volvo.
"Get off the road you loony!" a man yelled out of the window. Scade replied to this with a charming gesture I will not mention because it is not what rich girls like me do.
"Flippin' idiot," he muttered scornfully. "Hey Bellatrix, what do you prefer? Bella? Trix?"
"Just Bella."
"Bella, any police coming?"
"Nope."
"Right. Good."
"This is boring."
"Why don't you navigate?" He handed me a large fold out map. It opened to much bigger than I expected.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said, scanning the map.
"Give me some names?"
"Okay. Have we passed Dag-en-ham?" I asked, sounding out the names.
"I don't know."
"Har-ing-ey?"
"I don't know."
"Vict-oria road?"
" I don't know," he said through gritted teeth.
"How about Ga-"
"I don't know!" he yelled.
"I didn't even finish reading out the name!"

"Just pull in there," I groaned. We had been driving for hours and it was getting dark. He reversed into the little gateway and stopped the car.
"We're lost," I say eventually.
"No we're not, we just don't know where we are."
"Same thing." He huffed and sat back. "Look, there's a small house up there, maybe we can ask for directions."
As we slam the car doors shut he adds "we're not lost."
"Oh no, definitely not," I say sarcastically. We walk up the driveway and knock on the door. It creaks open to reveal a twenty year old, with long blonde hair down to her waist. "Can I help you?" she asks, her accent heavily loaded with Russian. Scade says nothing, just stares at the goddess of beauty in awe. "Hello?" she said, waving her hand in front of him.
"Oh right," he said, snapping back to reality. "We a bit lost, can you tell us where we are?"
"Are you a tourist?" she asks suspiciously.
"I'm-urm-English," he said pathetically.
"Urgh," she groans and smacks her forehead. "You're in the Houses of Parliament! Big Ben?"
"Oh right. Heh, ur...thanks."
"Bye then," she closes the door and then opens it again to address me. "Is he Okay?"
"Yeah, just a bit tired," I said, fighting back laughter. She nods and looks at him like he's delirious and closes the door. The minute we get back to car I collapse in fits of laughter.
"It's not funny," Scade said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I shake my head, shaking still and climb into the drivers seat. "Hey, what are you doing?" Scade says suddenly.
"Driving."
"No, you're not allowed to drive."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm the kidnapper. That's the rules, the kidnapper gets to drive."
"Do you have a license?"
"Well...no exactly, no. Do you?"
"Yep."
"But you're sixteen!"
"My dad's a billionaire, he got me in early. That's why your kidnapping me, remember?"
"But I need to drive."
"Tough luck."
"B-but-what!" he spluttered.
"Get in or I'll drive off," I said threateningly.
"Blackmail! I won't stand for it! Outrageous!"
"See ya then," I sigh and press the foot pedal dangerously. The car starts rolling along the road.
"Wait for me!" Scade shrieked, racing across the road trying to catch up. He swung open the door and leapt in.

"I hate you."
"Yeah, I think I gathered that sweetheart." He's still sulking, his back to me, straining the seat belt. I drive along, smirking. The music is on full blast - and it's Seven Nation Army. We were way out of the Houses of Parliament now, driving along the countryside.
"Any police?"
"No," he says.
"Good."
"Unless you count the three police cars, a runner, a dog and a helicopter."
"What!" I shriek, turning the music off. He's right, a helicopter is roaring away above us dangerously. The music must have drained the noise out, damn it I'm thick. Scade immediately snaps into action, shoving me out of the drivers seat and clambering in himself.
"But you can't drive!" I shout over the noise.
"And you can't dare to go fast enough!" he grins back. I jump into the passenger seat and watch out of the window. Man, that mutt looks bloodthirsty. Then, I catch a glimpse of a camera from the helicopter. They're filming us! A voice comes out of a megaphone loud and clear.
"Give us the girl. We know who you are. I repeat, give us the girl. We know who you are."
"Damn it," Scade says through clenched teeth.
"You are being filmed live on national TV."
"What the-!" Scade cries. "Live? National? TV?!"
Without another word and shout two words a rich girl like me should never say. To emphasize my point I stuck up a certain finger and no, I will not mention which.
Scade looks at me in awe. Forget about the Russians, this is Bella Power.  
"Look at the bloomin' road!" I cry as he drives off track and into a woody area. We crash into bushes and baby trees as we skid through the forest. Blue lights blind me as I take a peek in the rear view mirror.
"The police are still following!" I scream. Scade turns right sharply to avoid a tree and ends up on a dodgy road, sand bellowing up behind us.
"Wait." I say suddenly. "What's that?" I am looking at a boulder in front of is in the distance.
"It's a boulder."
"Yes but look, stones are crumbling off it."
"So what?"
"Where are they going?"
"Along the continuous road I presume."
"But Scade," I say. "There is no road. The road ends there."