Colin's Story

It is late, or possibly early.  Heavy grey clouds are just being lightened by the sun as it rises and the air is freezing.

Odd, then, to find a person outside, not doing anything or going anywhere.  A man is sitting on a low stone wall outside an English pub, glaring at the sign swinging in the rapidly rising breeze.

He's humming a tune under his breath.

Looking at him he could be any of the many odd leftovers from the night before still wandering the streets.  He has the jaundiced look of the heavy drinker, bloodshot eyes and swollen nose.  Rumpled brown hair, like he's just woken up, but the bags under his eyes state that he hasn't actually slept at all.  He's wearing a suit, badly creased and grubby but still recognisable, so he could be the remnant of some work's do.  A small label affixed to his jacket identifies him as Colin, an employee of MedTech company. 

Colin is in trouble.

The cause of his trouble is only now striding across the car park, dressed immaculately in dark grey suit-and-tie, dark hair slicked flat to his head and seemingly co-ordinated with midnight sunglasses. 

Colin hasn't seen him yet, but he already looks worried.  He fidgets, glancing fearfully up at the sky where the sun is only now making an appearance, then sighs with apparent relief as the first rays break through the clouds. 

The suit and tie man is now standing directly behind Colin, but Colin hasn't looked round yet.  He knows someone's there, though, and stops humming. 

Suit-and-tie man coughs politely, a little diplomatic ahem, but Colin doesn't look up, or turn around.  He's forced to try another tack. 

"What are you doing here?"

 The accent is near-perfect 1950's BBC, with a peculiar hint of something other.  Constanants seem to linger a little, rather oddly, but each and every syllable is pronounced. 

Colin shrugs. 

"What're you doin' here?"

Suit-and-tie man sighs. 

"Just answer the question, please."  Colin turns round to squint irritably at the suit and tie man. 

"I'm just waiting for a friend.  Not against the law, is it?" His argumentative, whiney tone seems to offend the suit and tie man, who stands up stiffly and adjusts the cuffs on his shirt. 

"You are Colin Whitehead, graphics designer for the project, are you not?"  Colin gapes like a fish before regaining his scanty control over his facial muscles and nodding vaguely.

The suit and tie man smiles, and you can almost hear his face creak under the strain.

"Who're you?"  The suit and tie man shrugs. 

"A friend."  Now Colin appears worried.

"My friend? Or somebody else's?"  Perceptive as well.  More so than you'd expect, for the way he looks.

Suit and tie man raises his eyebrows imperceptibly. 

"I'm just generally a friendly person."  Colin sniggers, and you can see why.  With his pristine suit and peculiar mannerisms, it doesn't seem as though suit and tie man could be anyone's friend. 

"So, Colin.  What are you doing out here at this time of night?" There is an underlying threat to this innocent inquiry as the suit and tie man absently adjusts his sleeves.

Colin shrugs. 

"I went out with some friends for a drink, and it was so nice out here I thought I'd stay and watch the sunrise."  The suit and tie man frowns as though puzzled.

"You have a flat or apartment?  Somewhere to stay?"  Colin nods uncertainly. 

"Yeah, I've, uhm, got a flat.  I, er, don't like it much, I don't stay there very often."  Suit and tie man frowns again, demanding he explain.  Colin shrugs again.  "Well, I'm claustrophobic, you see, and it always seems really small so I like to stay out here."  Suit and tie man nods, opens his mouth to speak.

And stops. 

Standing on the other side of the car park is a woman.  Black hair, sunglasses, black clothes, skin like paper and wearing a leather trench coat.  Motor biking boots. 

Colin notices her and stares like a sheep in headlights.  He can't take his eyes off her boots; they seem to worry him somehow. 

The suit and tie man reaches into a pocket, pulls out his sunglasses, puts them on in a well-practiced gesture.  Sunlight breaks through the now heavy cloud and highlights Colin's nervousness. 

He shivers, then says; "Uhm, hello?"  The woman walks over and looks him up and down critically, then turns to face the suit and tie man.  She doesn't say anything, but her body language is clear.  Go away.

He turns to leave and Colin seems to wake up.  It's like looking at a parked car and then someone turns the headlamps on.  He looks about him, and frowns suddenly.

"I know what happened to Steve.  I know who you are.  I know what you want to do.  But you can't stop the project.  You're too late.  Way too late."  He frowns again as though puzzled by his own words and glares up at the suit and tie man standing over him. 

"Too late for what?  Why? What have you done?"  The suit and tie man gives the woman in leather a superior glare, but Colin secretly wonders if he isn't just as puzzled about all this as she was.  Surprised, he realises her questions were addressed to him and shook his head. 

"I don't know.  I'm sorry, I can't remember.  I think…" His voice trails off as realization strikes him.

 Look at the people you're talking to, Colin.  You've never seen them before, but they know you, they know you too well.  And look at that coat she's wearing, look at the boots.  Come on, you know why people wear clothes like that.

Vague nervousness is replaced by true fear as he looks about him at his companions and, for a moment, almost sees who they really are.  To them, he isn't anything, just a way in.  He has no knowledge as to where this thought comes from, but it sinks into his mind like change in a muddy fountain. 

He stands up.  The suit and tie man is busy practicing his amazing glare on the trench coat woman, and they both seem a little preoccupied. 

Colin decides to run for it, and does.

He doesn't get very far.