- Part 1 -
Arrhythmia
Isn't it strange the complications people attach to situations,
Almost as if they want to miss the wood for the trees?
Nothing will change my basic feeling,
When they have done all their wheeler-dealing.
Those in the strongest situations do as they please.
You might see all kinds of human emotion here:
Passion and pain, love and hate.
I see nothing other than a simple board game.
-Chess
The lobby is empty. Aubrey peers around the corner at absolutely nothing. Unless someone is trying to lure her out into the open, the three of them might as well have developed Folie Á Trois. "I know you're here," she announces, walking down the hallway – checking in the break room and the holding room on her way. "If you're going to shoot me, at least have the nerve to let me see your face first." She knows she's talking to no one. The potted plant near the door is the only other living creature in the room. She points her gun in various directions anyway, soaking in the false sense of safety. Forget Law – why spend years of her life studying and working her ass off when all of this time she could have just been: Aubrey Posen – Gunslinger?
There is a crumpled up sheet of paper in the middle of the room that she doesn't remember seeing there before, but she knows exactly what it is. Still holding her gun as steady, she walks across the room and snatches it up off the ground. The pawn. She uncrinkles it with one hand and looks at the new words scrawled across the paper – the same handwriting as was on the map.
'white in CHECK the dresser drawer to E4 your MOVE white'
When all of this is over, she deserves a god damn Homicide Detective badge. Maybe she should become CSI.
"It's clear," she calls back to Chloe and Beca after one last visual sweep of the room.
Chloe inches down the hallway first, followed by Beca, who is carrying all three of their things. "What was it?" Chloe whispers.
"It seems we're being followed," Aubrey answers and looks at the pawn again, "You know what's peculiar?"
"Everything is peculiar right now, Aubrey," Chloe says.
Aubrey ignores her. "The pawn is white," she says and shows them the paper, "What do you know about the white pieces in chess?"
"Literally nothing," Beca answers.
"White always goes first?" Chloe says tentatively.
Aubrey nods. "White always starts the game."
"So, they're saying you started it?" Beca guesses.
"No, maybe not," Aubrey answers, "Pawns or knights move first on the board, but the game isn't about the pawns, Beca. It's about the king. Pawns are generally…"
"Useless?" Beca supplies.
Aubrey looks up.
"I wasn't saying you are useless," Beca tries to cover for herself, "I was just -" She stops herself. "If you're a pawn, then who's the king?"
"Whoever it is, they're lucky." Aubrey takes one last look at the paper to memorize the words then stuffs it into her back pocket. "The king is the only piece that can't be killed. A better question is who is the queen?"
"Why?" Beca asks.
"Because she holds the most power," Chloe answers, "And the other side pretty much always wants her dead."
"How do we know they haven't already killed her?" Beca asks, "Better yet, how do we know this person even knows that much about Chess? Maybe they're just trying to keep screwing with Aubrey."
"They know enough," Aubrey says, "They made it clear we're white and we're in check, so we need to move – and we need to go to E4."
Beca stares at her. "E4?"
"It's a square on the board," Aubrey says.
"Okay, but we're not on a chess board, Aubrey," Beca points out unnecessarily, "We're on an island."
"It said something about a dresser drawer first," Aubrey replies, "Maybe that'll tell us how to get to E4."
"But there isn't a dresser in here," Chloe says, "And there was nothing in the desk."
Aubrey looks at Mills' house through the window on the door. "I bet he has a dresser." She starts walking toward the door, but Beca steps in front of her.
"This could all be a trap," Beca says, "Stop and think."
Aubrey looks over Beca's head at the house. "Why not kill us right now then?" she asks, not waiting for an answer, "I think this person is trying to help us."
"Or they're playing you," Beca says, "Hence the pawn. They killed the deputy. They killed everyone." She throws her hands in the air and takes a step back. "What the hell is happening here?"
"You think," Aubrey says, trying to piece it together, "We know there's more than one person involved, right?"
"There has to be," Chloe says, "Someone shut the door in the dining room before someone else started shooting."
"The killings don't match up," Aubrey says, "The way people die, how sometimes there's music, why someone is referencing Chess now when they weren't before."
"So you're a serial killer expert now?" Beca asks, "People are dead. It doesn't even matter how they were killed."
"But it does." Aubrey's heart is starting to feel like it's thudding in her chest. "M.O. isn't just a term used on TV, Beca. Tell me, how likely is it that two serial killers would find each other?"
"I guess there isn't exactly a Grindr for it," Chloe mumbles.
"So, what if," Aubrey goes out on a limb here, "One of them doesn't want to be involved? They might be more…messy in who they kill and how - and they would have different method. I think the person who killed Tyler and," she pauses, but she has to say it, "your dad and Cynthia-Rose is different than the person who blew up the docks and killed all those people in the dining room and shot the sheriff and the deputy. We might be dealing with a group of people, with one person in charge."
"But shooting the sheriff and the deputy and probably that doctor isn't messy, Aubrey," Beca argues, "They were specific targets – just like Tyler and Cynthia-Rose."
"You're right," Aubrey agrees, "It wasn't messy. Because it was a sign of solidarity."
Beca is silent for a moment before she laughs and shakes her head. "Do you hear how ridiculous you sound right now?" she asks.
"Look, we can spend all of our time theorizing and arguing," Chloe says, "Or we can move forward a square and go check the dresser."
"And possibly fall right into whatever trap is set for us?" Beca asks.
Chloe runs her fingers through her hair, resting her hand one top of her head. "What else is there to do, Beca?"
Beca stares at her then finally lifts her shoulders in a slow shrug. "I don't know."
There isn't time to brainstorm their other options. Aubrey grabs her bag from Beca and flings the strap over her shoulder. "I'm in charge of this side," she reminds Beca, "And I say we go across the street."
"Can you not see this is why you're the pawn?" Beca asks.
"And if it's a trap," Aubrey continues, "I'll shoot them." Chess is a strategy game, and in this particular match, they might need to figure out their enemy's strategy before they develop their own. "Also, Beca, I don't think the queen is dead."
"Yeah? Why not?" Beca passes Chloe her things, not looking at Aubrey, "If the queen was alive, wouldn't she or the king be giving the orders?"
"Because when the queen is killed, you feel it," Aubrey says.
"You don't think I felt it with Cynthia-Rose?" Beca asks, "Or my dad?"
"No, I mean you really feel it," Aubrey replies, "It'll make you want to forfeit the game. You'll realize you've lost your most important piece."
"And if that isn't you, who is our most important piece?" Beca asks.
"Aubrey, you can give Beca chess lessons later," Chloe says.
Aubrey stares at Beca and repeats the question in her head. She turns and looks at Chloe.
"What? We can't stand here all day," Chloe continues, "We're trying to find a way off this island within the next three hours, remember?"
The walls start to feel like they're closing in. "I think I'm going to throw up again," she whispers suddenly.
"Right now?" Beca murmurs, almost annoyed.
Aubrey needs air. She shoves past Beca and out the door to the empty street. Even outside, her lungs feel like they're constricting. She quickly slides her gun back to safety then tosses her bag in the grass. Out on the lawn, in the open, everything feels even less safe. She turns to tell the two of them not to follow her, but Chloe has already caught up and Beca is right behind her.
"Breathe," Chloe says, coming up beside her, resting her hand on the middle of Aubrey's back, "Just breathe."
"We don't have time to panic right now," Beca says, "We need to put our feelings on the back burner and -"
Beca is right. Aubrey grabs her bag once more and flings it back over her shoulder then turns and grabs Chloe's arm. "Do not leave my sight," she orders in a low whisper then looks behind her, "Beca, let's go."
"What are you thinking right now?" Chloe asks and gently loosens Aubrey's grip.
Aubrey didn't realize how hard she was squeezing her and releases her arm. "I don't know if I'm right yet."
"Well, can you give us an idea?" Beca asks, "Because, clearly, something just made sense to you."
Aubrey presses her lips together until they form a straight line. It's as though she didn't just spent the last how many minutes of what's left of her life trying to explain her thoughts to Beca only to be met with argument after argument about how 'ridiculous' the things she has to say are. She stares at Beca, her breaths coming in heavy gasps that cause her nostrils to flare. It takes all of her control not to lift her bag against her face and scream into it. "I said, let's go."
Beca salutes her and falls into silence.
Aubrey hugs her bag against her chest and turns to face Mills' house. Dresser drawer to E4. "Keep up," she says and marches across the street, more worried about Chloe staying in close proximity than Beca.
"Do you think his house key is on the keyring?" Chloe asks.
Aubrey realizes she isn't even holding the keyring anymore. She must have put it down while she was going through the files. She doubts his house key was attached to it anyway.
"If it isn't, think we can break down the door if we all hit it at the same time?" Beca asks.
Aubrey isn't sure who the question is addressed to, but she answers it by glancing back at her with a disapproving frown as she climbs the stairs to the porch. If they all just run at the door at the same time, chances are they're going to run into each other and someone is going to get hurt – and, unfortunately, it's only a 1/3 chance that person will be Beca.
"Do you have a better idea?" Beca asks.
"We could check and see if the windows are unlocked," Chloe says slowly, looking back and forth between the two of them like she might need to jump in and break them apart at any moment.
"Do you know what's special about pawns, Beca?" Aubrey asks and shoves her bag into Beca's arms for her to hold.
Beca arches her brows in forced interest.
"They might seem useless to you," Aubrey says.
"I wasn't saying you're useless," Beca replies.
Aubrey ignores her. "But if they manage to make it to the other side of the board, they can become any piece, apart from the king. You can make your pawn a queen, a bishop, a rook, a knight..."
"Make your point," Beca urges her along.
Aubrey turns and looks at the door. She can't ignore all of the things her father taught her. She balances herself firmly on her non-dominant leg, zeros in on a space near the door handle, then rams the heel of her stronger foot straight against her target. The door flies open and slams into the wall on the other side.
"Holy shit," Chloe murmurs, impressed, maybe even turned on – judging by the tone of her voice, "You're doing a lot of breaking and entering today."
Aubrey turns around to face Beca and arches her brows.
Beca stares at the open door. "Still pretty sure this might be a trap, but point made." She nods.
Aubrey steps backward through the doorway, into the dark living room, and takes a moment to admire the gaping hole left in the wall by the doorknob before addressing Beca, because that had been a damn good kick. "Well then you don't have to come in."
"Great." Beca throws their bags down and sits on the porch swing, "Maybe one of the serial killers can teach me how to play Chess while I wait." She pauses. "On second thought, that might be worse than death." She pushes herself to her feet again and picks their bags back up. "Beca to E4," she mumbles and shoves Aubrey's bag against her chest, "Carry your own shit."
"Why do you guys have to argue just to argue?" Chloe asks and follows them inside.
"The prospect of hate sex?" Beca deadpans.
"I'm going to punch you," Aubrey relays back in the same tone and turns on a lamp.
"Chains and whips," Beca says.
Aubrey turns to threaten her further before her words fully sink in and bring back memories that she can't bring herself to relive right now. She adjusts her bag and rubs the palm of her hand with her thumb, the feeling of blood sticking to her skin lingering in the back of her mind. Cynthia-Rose is really dead. She suddenly doesn't feel like entertaining their banter any longer.
"Shit," Beca mumbles under her breath, staring absently past Aubrey.
Chloe falls into silence with them for a few moments, looking at the floor, before finally being the one to draw them out of it. "The dresser is probably in his bedroom," she says, "Which I'm guessing is upstairs." She squeezes Aubrey's arm. "Lead the way?"
Right. Aubrey nods and looks at the stairs, needing a moment to find some energy in herself to climb them. "Stay close," she reminds them and points her weapon in front of her as she walks over to the bottom step.
"Okay, Wyatt Earp," Chloe teases her gently, "You're just using the gun for show now."
Aubrey is about to snap that this is a serious situation, but she stops herself. There isn't anything to gain in breaking Chloe down to her level.
"Aubrey," Chloe says her name.
Aubrey looks up, not realizing that not only did she stop her words, she stopped her entire body – one foot on the bottom step, free hand on the railing. She uses the banister to pull herself up step by step, wishing she was climbing the stairs of her apartment building, listening to Chloe complain about how they probably never even read her letter about all the reasons they should install an elevator. Do you think it's because I wrote it in purple pen, Aubrey? I knew I should have got my blue one out of the car.
"You'd think all houses would have elevators by now," Chloe mumbles, walking between Aubrey and Beca, "This is supposed to be the future."
"Maybe you should write a letter," Aubrey says, trying to distract herself with more thoughts of home. It just makes her want to be there more.
Chloe slaps her in the back.
Aubrey turns left into the bedroom. She refuses to look at the bed, because just thinking about how welcoming sitting down on a bed feels makes her legs feel numb. She marches straight up to the dresser and pulls open the first drawer. It contains piles and piles of button down shirts. She places the gun on top the dresser beside her and starts pulling them out one by one, stacking them neatly next to her weapon as she searches – for what, she doesn't know.
Chloe sits down on the floor next to Aubrey and leans sideways against her leg. She pulls out the bottom drawer and freezes for a moment before looking up at Beca. "Becs, I opened a drawer for you," she says and slowly moves to get back up.
"The underwear drawer?" Beca shoots her a look and opens the drawer next to Aubrey's, "Dude, no. You're better with that stuff than I am."
"With old guy underwear?" Chloe flops back down and picks up a pair between her thumb and pointer finger, "Ew." She throws it behind her.
Beca sighs and drops a pile of pants on the floor.
"Guys," Aubrey snaps at them, placing another shirt neatly on the pile.
"He's dead," Beca reminds her, "He's not going to care if his clothes are on the floor." She tosses another pair of pants down beside her.
"You should still be respectful," Aubrey says.
"Or what, he's going to haunt us?" Beca asks.
Chloe stops sifting through her drawers and drops her hands dramatically on her lap.
"What's wrong?" Aubrey asks, ignoring Beca. What isn't wrong?
Chloe looks up at her. "He's going to haunt me in his underwear."
Aubrey grabs a pair of pants out of the drawer Beca is going through and drops them on Chloe's head. "Well, give him those and keep searching."
Chloe pulls the pants from her head and tosses them on the floor. "Can I have a shirt for him too?"
Beca snorts.
Aubrey makes a vow to ignore them both for at least the next five minutes and moves down to the middle drawer – sorting through even more button down shirts that all look almost exactly the same.
"You know, this is how I imagined your closet," Beca says, "Just rows and rows of Bellas outfits."
Aubrey keeps her vow and keeps her mouth shut – despite that fact that she never wore her Bellas outfit to their practices, so clearly she owned other clothes. She imagines Beca's drawers just rows and rows of ugly ear spikes.
"Hey, Guys, I think I found something," Chloe says.
Aubrey isn't surprised. She closes her drawer. Chloe can find anything, as long as it isn't something that belongs to herself. She kneels down next to her and looks at the large sheet of paper she's holding.
"It looks like a map," Beca points out, kneeling behind the two of them, leaning over their shoulders.
"That doesn't make sense." Aubrey smacks the paper with the back of her hand. There are roads and street names, but significantly less of them than are on the maps she took from the Candlewick – and the roads don't all line up with where they should be; one of them seems to pass right through the middle of the church, and there doesn't seem to be a road at all leading to where The Cannery should be. There are street names that don't even have streets next to them, and vice versa.
Chloe taps the words 'East 4th Street' with her pointer finger, one of the street names that actually has a line printed next to it. "E4?" she asks.
Beca shakes her head. "This thing could say 'mouse trap', and you guys would still want to go there to see if there's cheese in the middle of the road."
Aubrey continues to ignore her and looks at Chloe. "Only one way to find out."
