Interlude 1

Emma smiled as she watched the news, leaning against the tough high back chair and letting the lights flash across her face in the dark. Her sharp eyes burned from lack of sleep, but she ignored them. She needed to see this, needed to be sure that everything was still on track and that for once everyone was playing their part correctly. Especially Thomas. He was such a wild card, the young Dracula obsessed mascara wearing weirdo; always improvising. She was constantly worried that he might feel 'inspiration' strike him and go off script, and there was nothing Emma hated more than people who couldn't follow simple directions.

The bedroom she was sitting in was sparse and empty, (practically empty, she mused) tucked away in a small apartment, with odd, ugly furniture. She despised the place. It forced her into ridiculously close proximity with the rest of the group, and she was glad they would be leaving in a few days. Already Keenan was out scouting their next new home as he ran his errands, but for now it would do; it was inconspicuous and most importantly, quiet. If she closed her eyes and concentrated her attention, she could barely hear the others moving around in the living room beyond the closed door, and could pretend for a moment that she was utterly alone.

She let her eyes slide open again and continued to watch the news unfold, nodding contentedly as the story on the screen rolled out just as planned. Joe was very specific on the plan, although as always allowing his friends to spread their creative wings where needed. She had been skeptical at first; the abrupt change of focus seemed to her a great chance to take. But he had been right, as always, and to see each step in action had helped to rally her spirits.

There was a slight knock on the door, and she pulled herself out of her reverie and called out a welcome.

Stumbling and just as shy as ever, Shelley nearly tripped into the room. She was thirty with plain, mossy brown hair, round smudgy features and a slightly overweight build. She wore ill fitting clothes and walked hunched over, and coupled with a self-esteem complex she gave off the impression of being twice her size. She disgusted Emma, who wanted to recoil at the plump hand that was extended towards her. But Shelley was useful in her own way; she was blindly, ridiculously loyal, would follow any order enthusiastically and could be surprisingly vicious while in the pursuit of pleasing her mentor. Emma worked a cold smile onto her face and accepted the ringing cell phone from her. Before answering, she twisted a kitchen timer and set it softly down of the bed beside her.

"Yes." She answered the phone curtly.

"Did you see the news?" the voice replied. Emma contained the urge to sigh

"Yes of course."

"Good job, huh?" came the eager response. Like children, she thought, they all need the most ridiculous encouragement.

"Don't waste time," she snapped. "Are you ready for the next step?"

"Yeah, no worries. Picked up a little something to go a bit ago, if you know what I mean," was the smug reply. She responded with chilly silence. The caller hesitated, before coughing. "Yeah, yeah. It's all set up. This is my show after all. 'I have the red light of triumph in my eyes, and a smile that Judas in hell might be proud of.'"

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "Whatever. The car is ready for you when you're finished. You'll have to top it off on your way." She glanced back at the ticking timer, clicking closer towards zero. "Any foreseeable problems?"

"Not on this end. Maybe up in-"

"No specifics." She barked. There was a pause. "Anything else?"

"Nope, all set. 'For it is without-"

"Call if anything comes up," she interrupted, as the timer rang. "And ditch the phone." She hung up.

Like children.

Emma walked to the closed blinds and peeked out at the busy city below, wrinkling her nose as a pervasive, nasty smell wafted towards her. She handed the phone back to cowering Shelley, who accepted it with a seriousness that made her want to laugh out loud.

"Everything alright?" Shelley asked in a whiny, high pitched voice.

"Of course of course." As if I would confide in you, piggy she sneered in her mind. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and keep her calm. The time wasn't yet right to be completely herself. She couldn't afford to lose a single, depressing one of them with their numbers so small.

Small but dedicated, she reminded herself, echoing Joe's words for comfort.

A fly flew across her face, and she shooed it away, nearly smacking the woman she had already forgotten was still in the room. Shelley was gazing at her with what she probably thought was a demure look, but she had lowered her head and created a series of double chins that made her look more like a hairless pug.

"We were wondering," she simpered and Emma glared at her reflection in the glass, "if there was any chance we might be staying on here a little longer?"

"You know the rules." She finally turned and faced the woman. "That's clear?" The woman nodded. "Good. Now get packing." She swatted another fly. "Oh and do something about the mess. Use the bathtub this time."

She turned back to the window and stifled another sigh, ignoring the cow-like woman as she struggled to pull, bump and drag the stiffening and increasingly foul smelling corpses of the apartment's previous occupants out of the room and down to the bath.

She let her head rest against the cool glass as she heard the messy work begin. Miles to go…

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Thanks for the support and enjoy…for now.