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Stream of consciousness Sunday: The Accumulator, part thirty three…

07 May

Today’s SoCS post comes to you from the blazing sunshine of our back garden, where I sit listening to the crows scrawking as I prepare to continue this story with the help of Linda G Hill‘s prompt;

” “inter-” Use the prefix “inter-” any way you’d like. “

Alrighty, then…

The Accumulator, part thirty three.

Scene: The director really thinks he’s being clever with the FX now, giving us all the action in one go by using a three way split-screen (you know the sort of thing; gimmicks made “popular” by the likes of cliché-packed international mega-hit 24 and so-so, preachy British spy nonsense, Spooks) so we now see;

Screen One: Adam stands just inside the kitchen, Carlisle’s pistol pointing across the room at the door to the garage, his other hand extended, fingers almost touching the door.

Screen Two: Carlisle’s POV down the darkened hallway. An explosion of light and noise; the assault squad smashing down the front door. A figure advances, weapon pointing straight at the camera.

Screen Three: We watch from the POV of one of the two men stationed in the garage, by the door to the kitchen. We see him count down on his fingers; 3.2.1., then drop his fist in the signal to go and the other man nods and kicks open the door, charging through it as we follow close behind.

Then things happen very fast.

Screen One: From Adam’s POV we see the door to the garage fly open and a masked man in black fatigues bursts into the room, a machine pistol already swinging round to take aim at us.

Too slow.

Adam’s first shot hits him on the bridge of the nose, snapping his head back and spraying blood onto the ceiling. He staggers backwards into the man behind, who is hit in the thigh by the second shot; his gun clattering onto the tiles, he screams and collapses against the door to the garage, slamming it shut as he slides to the floor.

Adam drops the gun and spreads his fingers, arm held stiffly at shoulder height, like a magician adding the final flourish to a particularly impressive illusion; as we see a rippling pulse in the air, seemingly sucked from the falling man’s body into Adam’s open hand and up his arm.

He turns to the hallway door behind him and makes a rapid sweeping gesture in the air, as if pushing something hard to the left, then stands with his hand on the door handle, waiting.

Screen Two: The man with the gun trained on us slows his pace as he approaches, trying to make out details in the gloom. Then, as he reaches the foot of the stairs, a tightly rolled rug is dropped from the landing above, catching him on the shoulder and making him spin round in surprise; just as Carlisle, still strapped to his stool, is sent flying along the slippery floorboards like a human hockey puck, slamming into the man who trips over the rolled up rug and crashes to the floor with Carlisle falling heavily on top of him

Screen Three: We see from a rear view, the first man going through the garage door, as our host follows him into the kitchen; the sudden spray of blood and the impact of lead man’s body as he is thrown into us, the shocked scream as the shot focuses downward, at the bloody wound in our leg, looking up and catching a glimpse of that strange, wavering pulse in the air, seeing the grinning young man turn away, then the picture blurs and fades to black.

The remaining screen is now split two ways and now we see

Screen One: Changing to third person POV, we see Adam go tense at the noises outside and he yanks open the door to the hallway, stepping through then ducking back in immediately as a hail of gunfire smacks into the wall next to his head.

He drops to his knees and leans round the door, snapping off two shots in quick succession before flattening himself against the kitchen wall and listening.

The sound of the squad leader, still struggling to extricate himself from beneath Carlisle and his accompanying stool, is all that can be heard from outside the door and the camera floats past Adam and gives us a view down the hallway, at which point the images of screens one and two converge and screen two expands to fill our vision.

Scene: The camera drifts towards the writhing pile of bodies and tubular chrome furniture, coming to rest above them just as the man underneath manages to roll Carlisle off him and raise his gun.

Which is when the second rolled up rug hits him square in the face, breaking his nose and banging his skull on the floor with a horrible cracking noise.

After a few seconds of silence, Patrick and Cathy peer around the banister, then cautiously descend the stairs to survey the carnage below.

As Patrick kicks the fallen man’s gun away from his slack fingers and Cathy attempts to untangle the furiously thrashing Carlisle, the camera swings round and heads back to the kitchen, where we find Adam stripping off the dead man’s clothes. Patrick enters the room, while from the hallway we hear Carlisle swearing profusely; Cathy has obviously removed the tape from his mouth.

It has been a little over a minute since the assault began.

Patrick goes straight to the unconscious second man and starts to pull off his black jacket, when there is a deafening burst of automatic gunfire from the hall.

He turns to see Adam, gun in hand, running for the door, but he is only halfway across the room before Cathy appears in the doorway, a machine pistol hanging limply from one hand, her face a deathly white.

When she speaks, her voice shakes, as though she is barely holding herself together. 

“Th-there were two m-more of them. They must’ve come in th-through the li-living r-room window. I only p-pulled the trigger o-once…”

Patrick hurries over to her and takes the gun from her unresisting fingers and the camera drifts past them to look back down the blood-spattered hallway, as the screen fades to black.

*****

Scene: Outside, the police watch “special forces” go into the house, remaining where they are, even when gun shots can be heard from inside. When the second, sustained burst of gunfire is heard, one or two of the armed officers look at each other uncomfortably, but orders were orders so they hold their positions and wait.

Ten minutes later – Some impatient muttering amongst the police is silenced by a shout from an officer with the best view of the front door and a moment later the assault squad emerge from the house, masks still in place.

Two of the men are clearly injured and are each being supported by a pair of their comrades, who quickly assist them (somewhat roughly, witnesses said later) into the back of the black van. Two of the men then climb into the front seats and the van backs slowly out of the driveway and turns to face up the street, where it sits with the engine idling until someone gets the message.

The officer in charge takes one look at the intense stare of the masked man behind the wheel of the van and gets the message straight away. He quickly orders one of the cars blocking the road to be moved, allowing the assault squad to drive off without any further inconvenience. 

He watches the van stop at the end of the street, where it turns left and vanishes from sight, then the bewildered officer heaves a sigh of relief and turns back to his men.

“Ok you lot, you know what to do; make the scene secure and then we just wait for the anti-terror boys to arrive…”

They will be waiting for a long time.

*************

To be continued (using next week’s prompt {which can now be found HERE})…

#SoCS

Pingback to Linda G Hill.

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One response to “Stream of consciousness Sunday: The Accumulator, part thirty three…

  1. John W. Howell

    May 7, 2017 at 20:55

    A long time indeed.

     

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