You Better Bring an Umbrella, Vol. 2

Chapter 4: Off Their Rockers

            Five and I leaned in closer to the magnifier in front of a grainy set of pictures, attempting to get a better look. These were the pictures he told me Elliott had taken, but honestly, I wasn't quite sure how Five would have been able to figure that out, were it not for Elliott's supposed descriptions of the people that fell. Sure, based on Luther's outline, you could probably figure it out, but it could still seem pretty suspect.

My brother hadn't bothered with much of an introduction to Elliott, but based on the way the man immediately started to go on about meeting the people in the alley, it was pretty clear Five had already filled him in on most matters. He seemed like a good man, if not a bit squirrely. Either way, I'm sure he'd be able to help us out a lot, given the amount of conspiracy theories he seemed to subscribe to.

"Elliott, did you develop these photos yourself?" Five asked as he studied the picture of Allison.

"Of course." I flashed him a thankful smile as he handed me a muffin he'd kept in his fridge. "Can't exactly drop that stuff off at the neighborhood Fotomat. Government has eyes everywhere." Trying my best not to drop crumbs, I turned and watched my brother as he grabbed a pen and scribbled out the date on the yellow box Five had been holding onto.

"I didn't see a darkroom."

"Yeah, I converted the hallway closet," Elliott answered proudly, before he became distracted by the large radio he kept nearby squealing with feedback. I flinched slightly, still unsure about why Elliott was tuned into police frequencies. He really was paranoid, if not a bit off the deep end. That almost made me feel special, acknowledging the fact that he trusted Five and I clearly meant something.

"Can you develop this?" Five asked, holding the yellow box he'd kept in his pocket out to Elliott.

"Hmm?" He took the small object and flipped it over, reading the label on the back. "Huh. 'Frankel Footage'. Friends of yours?" Unless Five's personality had completely turned around, I couldn't see him as the kind of person that had friends.

"Cousins on my robot mother's side." I choked a little on some crumbs as Five delivered that information, impressed that Elliott didn't even skip a beat. "Can you do it or not?"

"Sure I can," he shrugged.

"How long?" I finished off my breakfast, and after dusting off my hands, I made my way closer to my brother.

"Well, I mean, I'm running low on acetic acid," Elliott began to ramble. "Beeker's Cameras is open today, but it's two miles away. I mean, I'd have to take the bus. On the other hand, Gibson's is only ten blocks away, but I gotta cut through the park, and there's pigeons—"

"Elliott," Five interjected, trying to make him get to the point.

"It's like five, may be six hours." Five's eyes closed and he shook his head in frustration, but I was determined to help make the best of this situation.

"Well, kid, is there anything you want to do?" I asked, setting a hand on his shoulder.

Right as Five looked up at me, a voice came on over Elliott's radio, drawing out attentions toward whatever they were saying.

"Attention all units, we have a Code 3-15 at the Holbrook Sanitarium." Something about that name caused Five's expression to change. That must have been the place where he'd found Diego...

"The hell is a Code 3-15?" My brows furrowed as Elliott spooned corn flakes into his mouth.

"Mm, fugitives on the run." Some of the milk he'd scooped up dripped out of his mouth, causing me to gag just a little bit. Meanwhile, Five made his way over to the machinery and leaned closer to the speakers, trying to get all the information.