Stream of Consciousness Sunday: The Accumulator, part forty eight.

Ok, after a somewhat patchy schedule of SoCS posts, I’m back with the next chapter of this story, inspired by Linda G Hill and this week’s prompt;

” “psst, or any other attention-getting noise or word.” Find a word or noise that you’d use to get someone’s attention, and start your post off with it. “

Right you are, then…

The Accumulator, part forty eight.

Scene: The underground bunker.

“Oi, you two! Come on, you might as well join us, apparently we were expected.”

Carlisle lowers his gun as Adam and Patrick appear at the door, glancing suspiciously around them as they take in the unexpected opulence of the room.

When Patrick sees the room’s only other occupant he freezes, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“But…but you’re…I saw…how can you?…”

“Well, this is a twist I didn’t expect, I have to admit.”

Adam looks from The Woman to Patrick and back again, shaking his head in amusement at the shocked expression before turning to Carlisle with a smirk.

“So, Philip, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

The look Carlisle shoots him converts Adam’s smirk into a grin, before he turns to Cathy’s mysterious twin and bows his head politely.

“Perhaps the lady would be more inclined to make the introductions; after all, we are in her house now, gentlemen.”

“Anything she tells you, will be either a lie or a stall, while she thinks of a way to kill you. Don’t trust a word she says, I warn you.”

“Oh, Phi… I’m sorry, Mr Carlisle, I’m disappointed in you, whatever happened to that wonderful working relationship we built up?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it was finding out you were experimenting on innocent civilians, or possibly it was when I found you’d put me on the termination list, take your pick, ma’am.”

The vitriol in Carlisle’s voice is obvious and, from the dangerous glint in his eye, it is clear just how close he is to losing control.

“I have no interest in your pretend humanity or hypocritical outrage, you’ve no claim to the moral high ground, not after all the things you and I have done in the name of progress.”

Carlisle looks at her for a moment, then the tension seems to drain from him and he sighs wearily.

“I’m not even going to argue, because you’re right, you know it, I know it, we all do. But enough is enough, we all have a limit and I’ve reached mine, I don’t feel the need to explain myself any further than that. You forfeited any loyalty I had to you when you sent a kill team after me, so now, all bets are off.”

Finally regaining his composure a little, Patrick points a shaking finger at the woman, who watches the three of them with cold detachment from in front of the fireplace.

“Who the hell is she?”

She pinches the end of her cigarette from its holder, tosses it into the crackling flames and immediately replaces it from a box on the mantlepiece, as Patrick moves closer to her, staring at her with a mixture of amazement and horror.

“It’s really very simple; you murdered my sister and now you are all going to die, that’s…”

“Wait a minute, we didn’t murder anyone, she betrayed us and we were about to use her as bait, but nobody was supposed to get hurt! She tried to escape, she nearly killed Adam, he had no choice.”

“No choice? No choice! No choice but to burn a hole through her chest? No choice but to rip her spine out? You fucking animals don’t deserve to live, any more than the scum Carlisle has been liquidating for me all these years.”

Patrick stares at her with

“You’re mad. How can you call this…this insanity, progress? It’s an abomination, what you did to me and Adam, it’s obscene, a curse.”

“Oh don’t make me laugh, you didn’t seem to mind when you were murdering your way round Europe with my sister, like some sort of Bonnie and Clyde with superpowers, did you?”

“There’s no comparison between that and what you did to us, I only killed when I was attacked and we only stole from criminals, it was a matter of survival.”

“Ah, so more like Robin Hood, is that it? A romantic notion, I’m sure, but I doubt the police would see it that way.”

“You aren’t going to be calling the police, so that’s hardly relevant.”

“No, I’m not, I’m just reminding you how hopeless your future is, how pointless it would be to think you can live a normal life at all.”

She moves toward Patrick, lighting her cigarette as she speaks, but stops as Carlisle brings his gun up, the barrel only inches from her head.

“You are so jumpy, Philip.”

She smiles at his reaction to the name and indicates a chair by the fire.

“Well if you’re not going to eat, at least we can be comfortable, won’t you sit down?”

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

“Suit yourself, I’ll sit, if that’s ok with you..?”

Carlisle walks over to the chair, feels down each side of the seat cushion and checks the side table until he is satisfied she doesn’t have a weapon hidden there, then motions for her to sit.

She taps her cigarette in a crystal ashtray on the table and looks up at Patrick with a tight, cold smile.

“She took you in completely, didn’t she? You really thought she loved you, you poor fool.”

Patrick holds her gaze and his voice no longer shakes when he speaks.

“Now I know she was your sister and what she stood for, I’m glad to find was lying, I would hate to think I had inspired any affection in the evil bitch.”

She becomes very still and her eyes seemed to bore into his, then she laughs and smokes for a moment, watching him thoughtfully as he glares at her.

“Let me tell you about my sister and what she stood for, then maybe you’ll understand why I, too, have no choice and that you have to die.”


To be concluded (using next week’s prompt)…


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