Part Four
Angelo shuffled his fastest gait down the grey halls. A small smile
played across his usually baffled expression and a light that wasn't
often present gleamed in his eyes. For the first time in a long time
Jarod was back and had renewed his connection with the Daughter. It
would be just like when they were kids, only better. This time he and
Jarod would save the Daughter and she would be free of the Center.
They would all be free. Angelo turned into the room at the end of the
corridor, sidling past the two burly guards flanking the doorway.
"Angelo." Jarod stood up and gave him an awkward hug. His hands and
feet were bound in chains, limiting his movement. "It's good to see
you."
"Daughter alive," Angelo mumbled softly. He said nothing else because
of the hovering presence of Sydney. Angelo liked Sydney, he was one
of the few people who treated him like a human being, but he still
viewed Sydney as the adult in their dysfunctional world. The adult
didn't participate in their secret adventures.
Jarod smiled and patted Angelo's shoulder. "Yes. I need your help...
with this program I'm working on." Jarod led Angelo over to the
computer and they sat down. Sydney stood behind them, allowing a
small smile of contentment. The peaceful scene didn't last long. The
hollow tap of her heels coming down the hallway announced Bridgette's
presence long before she arrived. The three of them were already tense
by the time she stood in the doorway.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Such hard workers. I hear you didn't
even break for lunch. Making up for lost time, Jarod?" Bridgette
asked the question pleasantly enough, but she walked toward them like
a stalking tiger trying to convince its prey it was a harmless kitten.
"Or is it more of a mourning thing? Keeping yourself busy so you
aren't consumed by the memories of your dead beloved. So, sad."
No one interrupted Bridgette during her taunting monologue. Sydney
shifted uncomfortably and kept a trained eye on Jarod. He wasn't sure
how fragile Jarod's psyche was or how much it could take, in fact he
didn't know much about Jarod at all anymore. His behavior was strange,
erratic. Thoroughly human. A part of Sydney was proud, another
was scared because he had no idea how Jarod was going to react.
Jarod stared at the computer screen, willing Bridgette to get bored
and leave. There was no way he and Angelo could work out Miss Parker's
whereabouts with her standing over them. A small stack of photographs
splashed across the keyboard in front of him. They were pictures of
Miss Parker. In a coffin.
"I brought you a present," Bridgette cooed in his ear.
"Bitch!" Miss Parker's voice seethed in Jarod's mind. "I can't wait
to wipe that smug look off her face."
"Miss Parker," Jarod said aloud in a toneless voice. He picked up the
first photograph, it was one of Miss Parker in a lacquered black
coffin, white satin cushioning her body like a cloud. He looked up at
Bridgette, a hint of suspicion glinting in his eyes. "Why are you so
desperate to offer me proof of her death?"
Sydney scooped up the pictures and plucked the one from Jarod's hand.
He grabbed Bridgette's arm and pulled her out of the room before
anything more could be said.
The drama that had just played out had little effect on Angelo. He
was already focused on finding the Daughter. She was here, in the
Center, he could feel the vibrant pulse of her emotions close by. It
was different from the usual Daughter feeling, now it held more fear.
"It's okay," Angelo crooned softly, "The bad voice is wrong. Don't
listen."
Jarod frowned at his sensitive friend. He didn't want to break
Angelo's concentration, but the question was eating at him. Who the
hell was this bad voice? And what was it saying to Miss Parker?
*****
"Let go of me!" Bridgette snapped, tearing her arm from Sydney's grasp.
"What the hell do you thing you're doing? Have you gone insane, old
man?"
Sydney pushed Bridgette against the wall and threw the pictures onto
the floor. "No, but apparently that is what you want Jarod to do.
This sort of cruelty could push him back into a delusional state
permanently. He will be useless to the Center. Now I know that you
won't cry any tears if Jarod is killed, but how do you think the
Triumvirate will feel when I tell them it was your fault that they lost
their most valuable asset?"
The whirring of the central air, usually an annoying buzz at the back
of everyone's consciousness, became loudly prominent in the silence
after Sydney's threat. Bridgette straightened, smoothing her hair
and clothes. She was well aware of the scrutiny of the two guards who
were trying not to watch them. "You may be overestimating your pet
project's value. The only reason so much time and money was spent in
recovering Jarod was because it was a misguided attempt on my husband's
part to keep his little girl on the team. Chasing Jarod kept Miss
Parker busy and at the Center. That particular function is now moot."
The spiked heel of Bridgette's shoe tore into the glossy surface of
the photograph of Miss Parker in her coffin as she stepped past Sydney
and walked back down the hall.
*****
She looked so peaceful. Rested. Shadowy pale skin surrounded by
dark hair laying on stark white linens. She looked like an angel.
Their father had picked an appropriate nickname. Lyle laid Miss
Parker's hand across her abdomen. His sister. And he didn't even know
her first name. But Jarod did.
Lyle leaned over, his lips close to Miss Parker's ear. "Our mother
would be very disappointed in you," he whispered, "Family was the most
important thing to her and you abandoned your brother. You tried to
kill me. And I know you'll deny it with your last breath, but you
have aligned yourself with Jarod against me."
"Mr. Lyle?" a nondescript man in a white lab coat interrupted Lyle's
whispered tirade.
"What?" Lyle snapped, standing up and facing the man.
"I have to caution you once again, keeping her in this induced coma
could cause permanent damage. How much longer do you insist on
continuing this?"
Lyle frowned at the little man and started to answer, but his attention
was diverted by Miss Parker. She tossed her head against the pillow
and clutched at the bed sheets. "Jarod," she croaked hoarsely. Lyle
turned back to his sister. He took her hand in his once again, but it
wasn't a comforting gesture. Miss Parker moaned in pain as Lyle
cruelly squeezed her fingers in his grip.
"As long as it takes to insure her loyalty. To me." Lyle let go of
her hand and walked to the door. "Give her another dose. We can't
have her waking up as herself."
To be continued.....
Angelo shuffled his fastest gait down the grey halls. A small smile
played across his usually baffled expression and a light that wasn't
often present gleamed in his eyes. For the first time in a long time
Jarod was back and had renewed his connection with the Daughter. It
would be just like when they were kids, only better. This time he and
Jarod would save the Daughter and she would be free of the Center.
They would all be free. Angelo turned into the room at the end of the
corridor, sidling past the two burly guards flanking the doorway.
"Angelo." Jarod stood up and gave him an awkward hug. His hands and
feet were bound in chains, limiting his movement. "It's good to see
you."
"Daughter alive," Angelo mumbled softly. He said nothing else because
of the hovering presence of Sydney. Angelo liked Sydney, he was one
of the few people who treated him like a human being, but he still
viewed Sydney as the adult in their dysfunctional world. The adult
didn't participate in their secret adventures.
Jarod smiled and patted Angelo's shoulder. "Yes. I need your help...
with this program I'm working on." Jarod led Angelo over to the
computer and they sat down. Sydney stood behind them, allowing a
small smile of contentment. The peaceful scene didn't last long. The
hollow tap of her heels coming down the hallway announced Bridgette's
presence long before she arrived. The three of them were already tense
by the time she stood in the doorway.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Such hard workers. I hear you didn't
even break for lunch. Making up for lost time, Jarod?" Bridgette
asked the question pleasantly enough, but she walked toward them like
a stalking tiger trying to convince its prey it was a harmless kitten.
"Or is it more of a mourning thing? Keeping yourself busy so you
aren't consumed by the memories of your dead beloved. So, sad."
No one interrupted Bridgette during her taunting monologue. Sydney
shifted uncomfortably and kept a trained eye on Jarod. He wasn't sure
how fragile Jarod's psyche was or how much it could take, in fact he
didn't know much about Jarod at all anymore. His behavior was strange,
erratic. Thoroughly human. A part of Sydney was proud, another
was scared because he had no idea how Jarod was going to react.
Jarod stared at the computer screen, willing Bridgette to get bored
and leave. There was no way he and Angelo could work out Miss Parker's
whereabouts with her standing over them. A small stack of photographs
splashed across the keyboard in front of him. They were pictures of
Miss Parker. In a coffin.
"I brought you a present," Bridgette cooed in his ear.
"Bitch!" Miss Parker's voice seethed in Jarod's mind. "I can't wait
to wipe that smug look off her face."
"Miss Parker," Jarod said aloud in a toneless voice. He picked up the
first photograph, it was one of Miss Parker in a lacquered black
coffin, white satin cushioning her body like a cloud. He looked up at
Bridgette, a hint of suspicion glinting in his eyes. "Why are you so
desperate to offer me proof of her death?"
Sydney scooped up the pictures and plucked the one from Jarod's hand.
He grabbed Bridgette's arm and pulled her out of the room before
anything more could be said.
The drama that had just played out had little effect on Angelo. He
was already focused on finding the Daughter. She was here, in the
Center, he could feel the vibrant pulse of her emotions close by. It
was different from the usual Daughter feeling, now it held more fear.
"It's okay," Angelo crooned softly, "The bad voice is wrong. Don't
listen."
Jarod frowned at his sensitive friend. He didn't want to break
Angelo's concentration, but the question was eating at him. Who the
hell was this bad voice? And what was it saying to Miss Parker?
*****
"Let go of me!" Bridgette snapped, tearing her arm from Sydney's grasp.
"What the hell do you thing you're doing? Have you gone insane, old
man?"
Sydney pushed Bridgette against the wall and threw the pictures onto
the floor. "No, but apparently that is what you want Jarod to do.
This sort of cruelty could push him back into a delusional state
permanently. He will be useless to the Center. Now I know that you
won't cry any tears if Jarod is killed, but how do you think the
Triumvirate will feel when I tell them it was your fault that they lost
their most valuable asset?"
The whirring of the central air, usually an annoying buzz at the back
of everyone's consciousness, became loudly prominent in the silence
after Sydney's threat. Bridgette straightened, smoothing her hair
and clothes. She was well aware of the scrutiny of the two guards who
were trying not to watch them. "You may be overestimating your pet
project's value. The only reason so much time and money was spent in
recovering Jarod was because it was a misguided attempt on my husband's
part to keep his little girl on the team. Chasing Jarod kept Miss
Parker busy and at the Center. That particular function is now moot."
The spiked heel of Bridgette's shoe tore into the glossy surface of
the photograph of Miss Parker in her coffin as she stepped past Sydney
and walked back down the hall.
*****
She looked so peaceful. Rested. Shadowy pale skin surrounded by
dark hair laying on stark white linens. She looked like an angel.
Their father had picked an appropriate nickname. Lyle laid Miss
Parker's hand across her abdomen. His sister. And he didn't even know
her first name. But Jarod did.
Lyle leaned over, his lips close to Miss Parker's ear. "Our mother
would be very disappointed in you," he whispered, "Family was the most
important thing to her and you abandoned your brother. You tried to
kill me. And I know you'll deny it with your last breath, but you
have aligned yourself with Jarod against me."
"Mr. Lyle?" a nondescript man in a white lab coat interrupted Lyle's
whispered tirade.
"What?" Lyle snapped, standing up and facing the man.
"I have to caution you once again, keeping her in this induced coma
could cause permanent damage. How much longer do you insist on
continuing this?"
Lyle frowned at the little man and started to answer, but his attention
was diverted by Miss Parker. She tossed her head against the pillow
and clutched at the bed sheets. "Jarod," she croaked hoarsely. Lyle
turned back to his sister. He took her hand in his once again, but it
wasn't a comforting gesture. Miss Parker moaned in pain as Lyle
cruelly squeezed her fingers in his grip.
"As long as it takes to insure her loyalty. To me." Lyle let go of
her hand and walked to the door. "Give her another dose. We can't
have her waking up as herself."
To be continued.....