Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

1.

Tuesday 27th April 2010

01:31

She has seen some surreal moments in her tenure at Progression Software, but for the first time in as long as she can remember, Alice finds that she is not exactly sure what is going on in David’s head.  She is desperate to voice this but she’s not one to admit this sudden weakness to anyone - especially not to him.

She had honestly expected him to take her to the haunts.  It is the most natural place to go to hear word on what the enemy is up to.  There is always someone willing to talk, even though sometimes it takes a little bit of David’s natural charm and a smidgeon of Alice’s natural aggression.

But instead he has entrusted that particular job to Belinda and Edward.  Alice does not like to think about what kind of trouble they are already in.  She likes both of them (well sometimes Belinda just pisses her off) but she has to admit that she does not think that they will be able to handle the mission they have been given quite as well as David and Alice could have.  The haunts are not the safest place in the city.

But, of course, when David has a plan it always works out for the best, as far as Alice is concerned.  She has no doubts in her mind that this will be the same situation.  She is a little freaked out by the fact that he has, so far, not said a word throughout the whole journey,

She wants to ask where they are going but the question gets caught in her throat and she simply can’t voice it.  She has the feeling that their mission is very important, though.  Can it be that David already has half an idea where Isabelle is?

David continues to look ahead for the rest of the journey.  Usually he is quite chatty when they drive, even when there is danger on the horizon.  It is very strange to see him like this and Alice does not like it one little bit.  There are times he is so caught up in the chatting that, later on, everyone else in the car has debated about how he had been able to keep control of the vehicle.

But right now he seems to be thinking about nothing else but the journey.

Or maybe he is thinking of the destination.

2.

Tuesday 27th April 2010

01:32

Karen Anderson has the look of a woman in power; her hair dragged back along her head so that it looks like the skin at the hairline is ready to tear open.  The hair continues back and is tied up with the use of those things that can be bought in pharmacies to keep hair in order, the name of which escapes her at the moment.  The excess hair, which is never seen down but is kept for the sake of her womanhood, hangs in a ponytail down to the centre of her back.

She is not an unattractive woman; she just looks harsh, her hair dyed peroxide blonde (she is supposed to be a brunette but the dyeing has been done so well that an observer would never know for sure) and the dark suit she wears – not like the kind that David and his two visitors wear but that power suit that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the bitch role in a television show.

As usual, she is still sifting through documents at her desk just after half past one in the morning.  Sometimes the offices of Orson Industries seem busier at this time of night than during the day.  She smiles humourlessly at this thought.  When you have been in this job for long enough, you really don’t want to sleep that much any more.

One of Karen’s main jobs is to keep tabs on David Oswald and his cohorts.  She was as amazed as everyone else when she got this job, as it was a very important task to give to someone who still didn’t have the same level of recognition as some people in the company had – people who had been overlooked for the position.

That is one of the main reasons for her crazy hours.  David Oswald never seems to sleep so why should she?

She is in deep concentration reading the most recent report when there is a knock at her office door.  She ignores it just for a moment.  She is too busy reading that David had been visited by one of the men in light grey suits.  She knew that the key to what David was all about lay in these men who visited at night.

She knows that her superiors know who these men are (a file she had read once name dropped a couple of organisations – she remembers one of them as Nemesis but the other one was fairly non descript and disappeared from her mind within a day of reading the report – drowned from memory by the intimidating presence of Nemesis) and she curses under her breath that now she is not being given access to any files which pertains to the organisations in any great detail.  She wants badly to know who they are and what their relationship to David is.  There might be answers about his past that would give her clues about how to proceed in investigating his present.

The door knocks again.  Whoever is there was going to be in a serious amount of trouble disturbing her while she is trying to concentrate on these important documents, and in Orson Industries trouble is a dangerous thing.  “Come in.!”

She is glad it is not one of the Directors.  The anger is too apparent on that wonderful face of hers that has trouble with a smile but has no problem with the sterner emotions.  It is just an underling, an unattractive looking man that she remembers throwing coffee over a few weeks ago.  He seems to have no scarring.  She thinks to herself that this is a shame.

She asks in a gentle tone, as tough as someone enquiring after an elderly relative, “What the fuck is it?”

The man seems a little fazed by this and her eyes seem to burrow into his soul compelling him to tell her just why he is here.

“We’ve just received word that David has brought his team in.”

She will forgive him for the interruption.  She makes a mental note to remember to put milk in the coffee next time she loses her temper.

She looks at her watch.  “He only ever does this when there’s something important happening.”

The man nods.  “I thought you might like to know…”

Suddenly another man appears at the door.  Karen doesn’t like him much either but she has refrained from burning him with hot liquids so maybe this guy is redeemable.

“We just got word!”  The new guy tells them.  “They’re moving.”

And, with that, it is time to get busy.  Karen looks at the two men standing in front of her.  “I want them followed.  I want to know where they’re going.”

They leave to do her bidding and she finds once again that she still enjoys the power she has.  Suddenly things start to happen.

She might manage to stay awake a little longer after all.

3.

Tuesday 27th April 2010

02:04

Gary has been in the house for some time and there was no surprise when he returned to find that his house was just as empty as it had been when he last left.  Part of him had hoped that Isabelle would be here and that he would be able to call the whole thing off.  But he knows that it is too late for that, especially now.

He is sitting on a couch and feels a sharp pain in his upper thigh.  It takes him a moment to work out just what it is before he jumps up and pulls the offending object out of his pocket.  His house keys are now in his hand and he cannot even begin to convey the feelings coming over him.  This one little thing would have annoyed him in the past but right now he is furious – the impotent fury of a man who cannot do anything else for the moment.

He throws his keys onto his glass table and, for a split second, as they fly through the air; he is convinced that the impact is going to smash it.  They land with a loud clatter, that’s all; he gives out a small sigh of relief.

He slumps down onto the couch again, right beside where he threw his jacket earlier.  He rubs his face vigorously to shake out the fatigue he is feeling.  Little pinpricks of stinging shoot up all over his face.  It isn’t exactly pain but it is very unpleasant.  He winces just a little and regrets what he has done.

He knows that Isabelle is in a lot of trouble and feels useless, sitting around in the house and doing nothing to help her.  He understands why David has sent him back to the house to wait and see if she arrives home safe and unharmed.  He is too involved with the whole situation and is no good to anybody considering the frame of mind he is in right now.  David needs 100% from his team and it is something that Gary is unable to deliver.

But isn’t everyone involved really?  No matter how briefly, everybody else who is with David Oswald knows Isabelle.  The fact that she has disappeared and it’s implications on him should have an affect on everyone.

Gary shakes his head.  That would make them all the more determined to get her back, but still not have the clouding of judgment that Gary is experiencing.  He decides the best bet is to make another cup of coffee and hope for the best - there is no way that he is going to be sleeping tonight.

He wanders into the Kitchen, flicking the light on.  He jumps back in surprise when he spots the face that is peering into the window.  Before he has the chance to compose himself and run over to see where the figure is heading, it is gone into the night.

4.

Tuesday 27th April 2010

02:05

Beside Walter Ingalls bed is a very old style phone, which somehow manages to look new.  It has something to do with the design; as if modern technology can no longer look like the style from a past era.  It is designed for a retro feel but it just looks so new, so shiny.  Downstairs he has a candlestick style phone from the time when phones were first invented, black with an almost bone like shine to it.  This one is the same colour but it is a simple box, slightly raised at the back, two turrets pushing up with a golden branch (to perfect to resemble a branch and its random wanderings but it is the only way Walter can describe them) on each side, acting as a cradle for the receiver.  Walter has fallen asleep whilst reading a book.  

Suddenly Walter is awake.  He woke up to the sound of the ringing phone.  To say that he is very displeased to be getting a call at this time of night is an understatement.  He is a very light sleeper and he has woken up very quickly.  The thought, “this had better be damned important”, is already running through his head.  Who would be calling him now?

He picks up the phone.  There is no way for him to be pleasant right now and the way he says, “Hello”, reflects this.

“Hi Dad it’s me…”

Suddenly Walter’s demeanour changes.  His voice softens slightly.  Gary is a smart kid and there is no way he would be calling this early in the morning unless there is something serious happening.

“Gary?”

“I’m sorry to call this late…”

Walter shakes his head, forgetting for a moment that his son will be unable to see him doing so.  It is funny what goes through your mind at this time in the morning.  He instantly thinks, “It’s not late, it’s early.”

“Don’t worry about that.  What’s wrong?”

“I want to give you a phone number.  If I don’t call you back every ten minutes until I say otherwise, I want you to call this number and tell the man who answers that you think Gary is in trouble.”

“What are you talking about?  What the hell’s going on son?”

“It’s a long story.  I’ll explain it later, dad.  Could you just take down this number?”

“I don’t have a pen and paper.  Give me a minute.”

As Walter has a quick search for pen and paper, he feels violent shivers running up and down his spine.  He hasn’t experienced a sensation like that since he had found his wife dead all those years before.  He starts to think about her.  He misses her so much.  It doesn’t matter, though; he knows that he will be seeing her again soon.

5.

Tuesday 27th April 2010

02:06

Isabelle is not known to exaggerate but she is sure that she has been asleep for months when she finally wakes up.  She cannot believe that she had managed to fall asleep during her attempt to escape from the bonds that are holding her in place.  She has no idea why she feels so tired.

She tries to accustom her eyes to the dark and shapes begin to form around her, seeming to come out of the darkness.  She realises that she is no longer alone in the room.

She guesses that there are about half a dozen figures in the room with her.  From the shapes she guesses that they are cloaked figures like the ones who had kidnapped her.  It is hard to tell but she can imagine that they are all facing her and staring.  As her eyes adjust more to the dark, she starts to make out more details.

“What do you want?”  She finally asks.  Just then, she feels something drip down onto her lips.  It is a very unpleasant, ticklish sensation, all the more because it has surprised her and she does not have the power to wipe it away.

Suddenly she is aware of a wet patch on her forehead, which she hadn’t felt moments before.  He tongue flicks out onto her lips to taste the liquid in an automatic response.  Her mind is already on overdrive and she does not want to know the origins of the liquid.

She immediately tastes the distinctive coppery tang of blood.  This is too much.  Panic and bile rise up from her stomach.  She lets out the loudest scream that she can muster in the circumstances; a fairly pitiful shriek as her rapidly filling and emptying lungs seem to be too caught up in the panicking process to issue anything stronger.

“Quiet child.  The blood is not yours.  It is the blood of someone else taken by the Brethren tonight.”

She manages to stifle her useless screams down to self conscious and disgusted sobs.  “You mean that you killed someone?”

The silence that is returned speaks more volumes than anything they could possibly have said in answer to this.

“Are you going to kill me?”

There are a few more seconds of silence and, in this time, Isabelle manages to think the worst.  They are going to kill her and she has been right.  She is never going to see Gary again.  But then quiet laughter breaks out amongst the cloaked figures.  The whole thing is so absurd sounding that Isabelle feels like she could start laughing too, if the circumstances were ever so slightly different.

“Of course we are not going to kill you.  You are important to us.”

“Then please untie me!”  She begs.

The cloaked figure closest to her raises a hand.  He has been the one who has been doing all the talking.  Isabelle is already thinking of him as the leader of the group.

“Not yet, Isabelle.  There is something we must do first.”

Suddenly the chanting starts and the whole situation scares Isabelle even more.  She is in the middle of some kind of satanic ceremony.  She should have known from the blood on her forehead but, up until now, the thought hasn’t even crossed her mind.  The talk of sacrifice didn’t even lead her to this conclusion.

  She is very surprised to feel the blood dry and solidify on her forehead.  It is a warm sensation at first and she has to admit that it is quite pleasant.  She is glad that she can no longer feel the blood; she had wanted nothing more than to wipe it off.  It had been like having an itch under a plaster when you have broken your arm.  It was there and there was nothing that you could do about it.

She becomes aware of a faint glow on the floor around her chair.  It seems to brighten as the chanting becomes louder.  She looks around at the shape of the glow and realises that she is sitting in the centre of a pentagram.  That would make sense if she were part of some satanic ceremony.

Suddenly she can feel the shape of the dried blood on her forehead and just knows that it, too, is a pentagram.  It is no longer a nice sensation and she wants to scream again, sure that her lungs are now capable of bringing the whole building down.  But now she is unable to move a muscle, let alone scream.  She finds that she can’t even blink, although her eyes are drying up and stinging quite badly.

There is a sudden loud electrical crackle.  Sparks of electricity come from the points of the pentagram around her.

And then Isabelle knows no more.