” “rain/rein/reign.” Use one, use them all, use them any way you’d like. “
Ok then, let’s see what we can do…
The Accumulator, part thirty six.
Scene: A motorway services restaurant at night. It is an hour ago.
Patrick, Adam, Cathy and Carlisle are sitting at the only occupied table and a single bored teenager stares fixedly at his phone behind the counter. Nondescript muzak plays quietly from hidden speakers, unsuccessfully competing with the sound of rain being driven against the windows by heavily gusting wind that has sprung up outside.
Our POV drifts across the room, arriving just as Cathy gets up from the table.
“I’m going to find the little girls’ room, I want to freshen up.”
“I’ll come with you, I need to stretch my legs anyway.”
Carlisle drains his coffee and stands up, pushing in his chair and gesturing for Cathy to go ahead of him as she walks round the table.
“Nice to see you still have some social graces left.”
Carlisle smiles tightly, nods to Patrick and Adam, then follows Cathy out of the restaurant and into the main concourse, where she heads for the far end of the building, next to the expanse of plate glass windows and automatic doors which lead out into the car park.
He slows his pace, allowing her to reach the door marked Ladies and go inside, before he ducks behind a vending machine next to the door of the gents’ toilet and waits.
He doesn’t have to wait long before the door reopens and Cathy comes out. She looks around, then takes two quick steps and opens the other door, reaching into her pocket as she slips inside.
After a few seconds, Carlisle moves from his hiding place, checks that he isn’t being watched and follows her.
Scene: The restaurant table. Patrick is trying to placate an irate Adam.
“Calm down, for goodness sake. It’s not like he can go anywhere, is it?”
“No, but you’re putting too much bloody faith in him, letting him wander off like that, you should keep him on a tighter rein.”
“He’ll be fine and anyway, he can keep an eye on Cathy for us.”
“Hmm, seems to me that she should be the one keeping an eye on him, but you obviously know best.”
“Look, they weren’t coming to save Carlisle when they stormed the house, you know that, right?”
Patrick looks for some recognition from Adam, but he stares back at him blankly. He sighs and goes on.
“They were there to mop up his mess and to tidy up any inconvenient loose ends, like us and him. He’s just as deep in the shit as the rest of us, so it isn’t in his interest to drop us in it any further, he’ll only get pulled down with us.”
Adam didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and changed the subject nonetheless.
“So where do we go from here, we can’t just keep running indefinitely?”
“I’ve been thinking about that and I think our only chance is to go public with what The Department has been doing; the experiments, the murders, the abductions, it all has to come out in the open, so we are no longer a threat to them.”
“Hahaha, don’t be so bloody naïve, you don’t really think we’ll be allowed to get within a hundred yards of a journalist or a tv studio, do you?”
“We won’t have to, not if we can get them to come to us.”
“And just how do you propose to do that, ring the CrimeStoppers hotline?”
Patrick was about to reply when he was stopped by the sound of Carlisle’s voice from behind him.
“Not such a bad idea, how about a missing persons report?”
They turned to see Carlisle, holding Cathy tightly by one arm, a livid red mark on her face and a look of fury in her eyes.
“Gentlemen, I think we may have a problem. On the bright side, I think we may also have a solution.”
The scene flashes back to a close-up of Cathy in the toilet, a flash of movement is just visible behind her and we see her spin round…
She turns to find the tip of Carlisle’s razor sharp hunting knife about half an inch from her left eye and freezes in shock.
“Looking for me?”
Carlisle, receiving no answer, laughs and continues in a cheerful voice
“Hahaha, the look on your face is priceless, you should see yourself. Didn’t know I’d recognised you, did you? Or had you just worked it out? Doesn’t matter now, anyway, I’ve got you bang to rights, as they say.”
Still she says nothing, just stares at him, hardly breathing, waiting.
He leans forward and carefully takes the gun from her hand. Then, and only then, he lowers the knife and is about to say something else but doesn’t get the chance, because that’s when she makes a desperate lunge for his throat with her bare hands.
It’s a token effort and she knows it, she’s off balance and he has all the advantages, but she’s so angry at herself for getting played like that, she can’t stop herself from trying.
Carlisle looks surprised for a split second, then decades of survival kicks in and he takes one quick step back and swings the hand holding her gun in a sharp arc, all in one smooth movement. The butt of the pistol connects solidly with the side of her face and Cathy goes down hard on the tiled floor.
“Don’t do that again.”
“Fuck you, Carlisle”
“Ah, the old Department spirit finally surfaces, I didn’t think it’d be long before we saw your true colours. So, how were you going to explain my unfortunate demise to your boyfriend and his fellow medical oddity, was I going to assault you?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Well, instead, why don’t you and I go and see what lover boy thinks about you betraying him all these years. And then, I think I’ve got a use for you.”
To be continued (using next week’s prompt)…