Tick Tock Part Four - The Mouse Fell Down

Rolling Clouds

The door was unlocked. What the phck? His door was never unlocked! Did they forget? Forgotten or not, they could hardly punish him for wandering off when they were the ones who fucked up. This place felt more homely than the basement he'd been in before. The room he'd woken up in was light and airy in comparison, with a window that looked outside. Seeing the modest front garden and quiet road had been a shock. They'd really given him access to a fucking window? It had been welded shut, but people below would surely see him if he made enough noise. That would need someone to actually be there though...He couldn't even see the next house through the thick trees circling the fence.

The room itself was comfortable, and a lot more welcoming than where he'd been before. There was carpet and a vanity, an empty wardrobe and drawers for his things, which were still in the case by his bed. The bathroom was pristine and white, with a textured window that let in real light. It was a grey day, but the light still made him wince a little after all this time. Artificial light was a little warmer than the brightness outside. Before venturing out, Gavin listened. Besides the hum of the heating and water in the pipes, he couldn't hear a thing.

He could tell the house was big. Not as big as Elijah's mansion, but sizable. There were a few other rooms in the same hallway, many of which were open and led to similar bedrooms. Some were smaller, and one was a small bathroom. Only one door was locked. His heart thudded as he pressed his ear against the wood and listened. There were only two reasons they'd lock a door. To keep someone in, or keep him out. Knocking on the door, he murmured Kitty's name, hoping she was the one inside.

"Uncle Gavin! It's me! Get me out-get-me-out!" Gavin hushed her quickly, laying a hand on the wood and looking down the hall in case they'd been heard.

"Okay, it's okay! Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" He was relieved to hear she was fine. It seemed his earlier suspicions were correct. They weren't interested in hurting her. She was just a tool for them to torment him with. So long as he played along, she was well fed and unharmed. Physically, at least...The things she'd seen would fuck her up for life. Guilt pinched his chest at the thought. It was his fault she was in this mess. "Alright, just sit tight. I know where you are now, but I can't let you out yet. I need to look around and get a lay of the land first." It would be pointless to let her out of the room if he couldn't get her out of the house. She seemed to understand his thoughts.

"What are we doing here? Why did they move us?" Gavin couldn't say for sure, but he had a good idea.

"I don't think they had a choice. I'm not sure how close they got, but I think the FBI got a lead." That was good news. That they'd been found once made it more likely they'd be found again. Being in a secondary base should make them more vulnerable. It should, but I don't even know if we're still in Detroit! That sick phck could have safe houses scattered all over! It would make sense. He'd been in hiding for years. Bouncing around would make him harder to find. But Detroit is his stomping ground, so maybe we'll get lucky. "Sit tight. I'm going to look around." Kitty was safe and unharmed. That was one thing he could cross off the list.

Finding the staircase, he hurried down to the ground floor. The house didn't feel like somewhere the Hickory Killer would choose. It was too warm. Too normal. The walls were off white, the carpets were cream, and the light fittings looked like glass flowers. Any furniture he came across was always soft coloured wood, keeping the warm theme of the house. Did he break in here? Does he own it and keep it this way for guests? It was hard to believe a killer like him would live in a place so cosy. Despite how big it was, it felt homely. It's so normal...

There was a large front living room with a cream corner couch and glass coffee table. The massive flatscreen was switched off, but the red light told him it worked. The sideboard had framed photos on it. People wearing stiff smiles, like a bunch of stock photos. The people and groups were often different, which added to the artificial feel of the house. A show home? It was possible. Quite a few places in Detroit had stood vacant for a few years, especially after the revolution. They were too expensive for androids to own, and many of the wealthier humans wanted to move out of the area.