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Stream of Consciousness Sunday: The Accumulator, part thirty nine…

16 Jul

Today’s prompt for SoCS, supplied as usual by Linda G Hill, allows us to continue this story by following this rather unique instruction;

” “book title.” Take the title of the book you’re currently reading or the one sitting closest to you when you’re ready to write your SoCS post and base your post on the title only. I’m not asking for a book review or a synopsis, just whatever the title itself brings to mind. “


{Nearest book: The Dark Tower by Stephen King.}

Hmm, interesting…

The Accumulator, part thirty nine.

Scene: Outside the derelict factory. 

The shot opens with Patrick coming out of the door, slamming it behind him before walking quickly along the front of the building.

A bright moon casts sharply edged, impenetrable shadows and gives the looming outline of the industrial hulk a stark, forbidding appearance. We can see Patrick until he turns the corner, heading for where the van is parked, then he is swallowed by the blackness.

Cut to: the van. 

After a few seconds, we hear the crunch of footsteps on gravel and see Patrick emerging from the gloom; glancing cautiously around him, he opens the sliding door and reaches inside. He comes out holding a petrol can and a handful of rags, slides the door closed and walks around to the opposite side.

We see him unscrew the petrol cap and begin feeding one length of rag into the tank, pulling it out and inspecting it with a nod of satisfaction, then repeating the process with the rest. He pulls out the last one and leaves the bundle hanging down the side of the van, the dripping petrol already forming a puddle on the crumbling tarmac.

As Patrick bends to pick up the petrol can, there is a loud crash from somewhere above him. He takes a step away from the van and looks up in time to see a shimmering shaft of energy burst through the factory roof and a rain of debris clatters down the corrugated panels, narrowly missing him as it falls to the ground.

He drops the can and starts to run back the way he came and we watch him vanish into the shadows, hearing his receding footsteps as our POV slowly descends to ground level and the overturned petrol can, it’s escaping contents forming a widening pool in the moonlight.

Scene: Inside the factory.

We see one of the three fallen figures by the pillar start to rise and the camera moves in and follows Carlisle as he shakily regains his feet and staggers toward the slumped forms of Adam and Cathy. He is trying to lift Cathy’s body off Adam without looking at the gaping hole in her back, when the door opens and Patrick comes running across the echoing space towards them.

“What the hell happened..?”

Patrick stops and looks down at the bodies in horror.

“Are they…dead? I mean, are they both dead?”

There was no mistaking that hole for a flesh wound.

“That is what I am attempting to find out, if I could get a little help here..?”

Patrick helps Carlisle roll Cathy’s corpse off Adam and leans down to check for a pulse on his throat, just as Adam groans and his eyes flicker open.

“Hold on, don’t move.”

Patrick gets up and looks over at Cathy, her eyes staring sightlessly up through the hole in the roof. He goes over to her and bends down, gripping her wrist for a moment with his eyes closed, then grabs her under the arms and gently drags her back until her head is no longer in the circle of light.

Returning to Adam with a bleak expression, he kneels down next to him and places his hand on his forehead. Adam’s body jerks briefly, his eyes snap open and he gasps convulsively.

Patrick looks up at Carlisle, who nods and bends to help him lift Adam onto his feet. The camera follows close behind them as they move quickly, supporting the stumbling Adam between them until they reach the car, lower him into the back and jump into front seats. 

Carlisle guns the sputtering engine and drives over to a rusty steel roller door in the corner of the building. He jumps out and fumbles with a padlock at the base of the door, heaves it up with a screeching rattle and hurries back to the car, then drives around and pulls up next to the van.

“Gotta light?”

Patrick leans forward and rummages in the glove compartment, pulling out a cheap plastic lighter, which he hands to Carlisle.

“Be my guest.”

Carlisle steps out of the car next to the petrol can. He picks up the can and shakes it, then walks slowly away from the van, trailing a steady stream of petrol behind him until the can is empty. Walking back to the car, he drives forward and leans out of the open door with the lighter, striking it half a dozen times before a low, rippling blue wave of flame flowed swiftly away from them.

Carlisle slammed the door and floored the accelerator, sending the small car bouncing forward across the uneven concrete to the gate as Patrick turned in his seat and saw the river of fire reach the van. There was a moment when he thought nothing was going to happen, then the black outline of the van, briefly visible against the flickering light, was blown apart in a short but violent explosion and engulfed in a roaring ball of flame.

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

To be continued (using next weeks prompt)…

#SoCS

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