Solitary [NaNoWriMo July 2014] [unedited]

3: Town Hall

     It was a relatively uneventful ride to the station. After Detective Baxton had announced the Tendor's arrest, Reed and Oily scooped them up, cuffing them and throwing them in the backseat of their police vehicle -- a dingy station wagon, perfect for the two morons. Baxton had gone upstairs to fetch the girl, and when he asked for her name she told him about her memory loss problem. He then decided, after a moment or two, that he'd call her Copper until her memory came back. He'd shoved the boy and the girl in the backseat of his police truck and had started the drive to the station.

     The ride didn't take more than thirty minutes and Baxton turned the radio up full volume so it blasted some country song into the backseat so that the two couldn't say anything to each other without having to shout above the racket.

     They pulled up to the station just after Reed and OIly did with the Tendor's, but they didn't get out of the truck straight away. One of the deputies from inside the station came out to fetch Copper, leaving Roy and Baxton in the car together.

     "Son," the detective started. He fished for words he could use but he came up short. "I don't know what's been going on, but you'd better tell me the truth before the Tendor's spin a lie they can't control."

     Roy looked at his father for a few seconds, pondering whether or not he shoudl respond with something witty or sarcastic or just be an upright douche to him. "She needs to get medical attention. I'll speak when that happens."

     His father sighed, hesitating before he got out of the car and came round to the other side and opened the door for Roy.

     "Hurry up, you're in for questioning." His father completely ignored what he had just said and grabbed his arm, puling him from the car. Roy stumbled out, waiting for the detective to lead the way into the building.

     Once inside, Roy couldn't help but get the feeling that he was being watched -- which he was. All the workers, which was a limit of three, watched him as he walked through the main room and was pulled into a room off to the side. It was surrounded by concrete with nothing but a rickety wooden table in the middle with a few stools to go with it. 

     The boy was pushed in and the door locked behind him.

     He waited for at least an hour before anyone came to speak to him, and it wasn't who he had hoped to be.

     In entered Oily at around the fifty-seven minute mark, with his greasy, combed back hair and the disgusting moustache that made him look like a creep. He was in his early thirties, not too old, and had a scrawny build. Roy reckoned he could easily take him but didn;t want to risk any worse punishment for the Tendor's.

     "You know what you've done, right, boy?" Oily had a nasally sort of voice that just made your gears grind. It was the annoying kind of voice you never thought anyone could have, but Oily had it. When he opened his mouth his slightly yellow teeth weren't as distracting as the spit that came with his words.

     "No, I don't. I'm being questioned for saving a girls life and that's where my knowledge ends." Oily chuckled, shaking his head.

     "Look, I'm rather fond of the Tendor's -- they cared for me when my parents died. I don't want to see them thrown to jail, especially when someone could help prevent it. That someone is you, boy, so please don't risk this." Oily threw his left leg over his right and clasped his hand on his knee, leaning back and waiting for Roy's response.

     "I don't want to see that happen, either," Roy bit his lip, watching Oily as Oily watched him. "What do you want to know? How can I answer anything you haven't asked?"