Inner Workings

Inner Workings - Part 22

Reese looked up from his computer and glanced around, frowning.

"What's wrong?" asked Beni from her desk typing out her report of the car explosion.

"I don't see the shrink anywhere."

The alcove under the stairs yawned like a toothless mouth. "Maybe he took a break."

"Or maybe he's going back for more curry of death." Reese winced at the memory of the tongue scalding food. "He's going to regret it in a few hours."

"I got the feeling he's got a cast iron stomach."

"Once this thing with Sandra—"

"Bitch," spat Beni.

"Bitch, is over, we need to do something about him."

"Like what?"

"Laxative coffee?"

"You still have that?"

"I wanted to save it for when Louis committed a worthy offense." Reese shrugged.

"Like what?"

Like actually hunting down my safety deposit box in New York.

***

Through rough video pixels, Milton saw Sandra Pearl pat her hands with an anti-bacterial wipe; the fifth in ten minutes. Sandra lorded her cleanliness, shaking the dust out of her keyboard, taking the fuzz out of her mouse, wiping down her chair and desk every morning. Organizing tissues, gloves, and wipes were second nature, like breathing.

"Intelligent." Milton zoomed in on her desktop. The spreadsheet she worked on spread across three screens; her typing and calculating as speedy as "Flight of the Bumblebee" on the piano.

A sixth wipe came out of the container.

"And very easy to take down."

Perhaps he would treat himself to another bowl of curry.

***

In mid doze, Will jerked his head up as the SUV came to a halt. They stopped on a forest road, a sign blocking the way.

"What's going on," asked Will groggily. "Road construction?"

"We'll check it out." Ram got out of the car with his mother and Will unclipped his seat belt to follow. He needed to keep an eye on them in case Sandra's men were about. But once he got out of the car he could see no one.

"Mrs. Devi? Ram?" Will walked along the road and found nothing in front of the car. What happened to the sign blocking the road? He pressed a hand to his stomach, taking out the stethoscope in his jacket pocket. "Louis, I got a bad feeling."

"Me too. Keep your eyes open, Fanboy."

Bang!

Will dove to the side of the road, scrambling into the underbrush. Something cold had impacted into his gut, but there was no wound. Louis screamed in his ear as shots kept firing.

"Shit! Will move!"

Will got to his feet and ran towards the forest. At every shot, another weight dropped into his belly; heavy, cold, and clattering.

"Will! Get us out of here!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"William!"

"I'm trying!" Will shouted, but the weight inside slowed his feet and cutting off his breath. His stomach stretched, the cold things stuffing up his throat until he gagged. A broken scream ran in his ears, echoing into every fiber of his body.