The Rules of the Red - 2014 Watty Award Winner |✓|

Chapter Twelve - Part Four

There was a second when I feared that I had vastly misjudged the capability of my own actions. In fact, the look on Ethan’s face when I had touched his knee was absolutely murderous as he registered in an instant what my attempts were. But as it turns out, it is indeed factual (but also providential) to a degree, that most males tend to think with their lower heads. And Ethan proved no different. The fight went out of him the moment my fingers clasped a little. And epiphany, enlightenment, utopia – whatever it was that passed across his face looked awfully sinful in nature.

Nevertheless, I somehow, mysteriously won his vote – much to the chagrin of Leader Devila and Leader Raines.

But while his two Leaders were merely disappointed, Charles was furious. I could see it in the renewed rigidity of his shoulders, and the way in which he blatantly refused to look at me when he spoke. And I admit, it did worry me a little, but I was on a roll now that wouldn’t be slowed or stopped. No matter how hard he tried.

So Charles promised to get in touch with the Hunters, and inform them of our decision. We would help them in their task, and lend our services in the investigation. But the Elder still felt it necessary to concede defeat with the last word. He warned his Leaders of the situation at hand. He reminded that in trusting the Hunters we were potentially opening ourselves up to outside influences that could be dangerous.

But his warnings I ignored. They held no weight in my eyes, and were about as heavy to me as a palm full of water.

*  *  *

The sharp ringing from the alarm set on Charles’ phone let us know that something important was about to happen next. He silenced the alarm, looked up and down the table, and then asked each of us in turn if we were ready. We all either nodded or said yes, and the next moment, he clicked a button on a remote and the television screen flickered to life before us.

On the TV’s surface was shown the image of a small, plain room. The walls were blank and white, much like the room in which Annie had locked Ethan and me inside, but this one didn’t have chairs or tables with the ugly flowers. But somehow the room still gave the distinct impression that it was based somewhere within the hotel. In the top right corner of the television’s screen was another little box that held the image of our Leadership and its Elder, seated stiffly at their table. And from this reflection of ourselves, I could plainly view Ethan’s eyes trained on me.

Seconds later, there was the sound of a door swinging briefly open and closed, from somewhere unseen. And not long after, someone walked into the focus of the camera: a woman – old and portly, with white, curly hair and cheeks that were permanently weathered. She was angry and frustrated, glaring into the camera. Dressed in an expensive fur jacket with a fancy church hat and her heavy handbag, it wasn’t difficult to see that she came from wealth.

“Mrs. Planchon, as always, it is a pleasure to see you.” Charles said to her warmly, in one easy lie. “How can we be of service to you this afternoon, madam?”

“I pay good money to feel safe in this town, Elder. And yet, my substantial donations to the Leadership seem to have either gone unnoticed or completely unappreciated. In either case, I can only say that I have been left feeling extremely dissatisfied.”

“Well, the sooner you get to the point of the topic at hand, the sooner we can get around to solving your problem, Margaret.” Mathew replied, with a stiff smile and an affability that I could tell was forced.

But Mrs. Planchon, it seemed, was no more fooled than I. And she puffed up a good deal as she regarded Mr. Raines through the lens of the camera. Mathew, however, hardly seemed to notice as he went back to inspecting his nails.