In a Better Place, part three
***
When we last left Clark:
Clark turned back to his group, forcing himself to make eye contact, to smile a stiff smile to cover his total panic.
“So...” He cleared his throat when his voice cracked slightly. “Who wants to see the Krypton wing?”
And now...
***
She wouldn’t cry. And she wouldn’t kill him. Not yet. Not until she figured out how he had done this. First, she would find him, and work out what sort of head trick he was playing on her. What kind of alien powers built an entire... wing ... dedicated to her utter humiliation. And then forced her to play the part of... herself... and watch it.
Lois shook her head on that last thought. It sounded even crazier when put that way. But that is precisely what had happened. She had been one of a host of Loises. An impersonator, a tour guide through her painful life history.
Of all the twisted, evil-minded...
Once she had some answers, she would take him apart. Rend him handsome, muscle bound limb from handsome, muscle bound limb.
She had felt sorry for him. In the park, after their crash, she had thought him to be some kind of innocent in need of a protector.
God.
Lois covered her mouth and stopped in her tracks just long enough to stifle the hysterical laughter that wanted to burst out. She took deliberate, slow breaths. Steadied herself.
Calm. She needed to be calm. Methodical. He was obviously a brilliant actor if he was able to slip under her bad guy radar as neatly as he had. He was, also, obviously much more than simply strong and able to fly. He could control minds and distort reality and even... recreate a person’s past.
There was no other explanation. He hadn’t missed a thing. The Lane Family wing, as she preferred to call it- and had insisted, through gritted teeth and not so veiled threats, the groups with her call it, as well- was so accurate it amazed her. It had details even she had forgotten. Things she had thought she had out grown, that couldn’t hurt her any more. All there. All on display through some sort of computer generated... something. She didn’t know what to call it, just that it was highly advanced. Obviously it had come from the very space pod he had assured her he didn’t have.
Was she his only victim? Or was he doing this all over? To reporters, maybe? Trying to stifle the media?
Again Lois stopped and took a closer look at her surroundings. The building had emptied out long ago when the announcement for closing time had been made. Along with the call for all cast members to return their costumes before leaving.
Cast members. This was quite a production. She had to hand it to him. He’d certainly gone all out.
She started forward again, the hideous blue carpet muffling her steps.
He was still here somewhere; she knew he had to be. Why would he leave? He would want to stay and wait for her to return to him- shaken, humiliated, begging him not to expose her skeleton-filled closet. Promising him allegiance and anything else.
The thing was, without any of this, he had had her. She had believed his Nice Guy from Outer Space Come to Save crap. She had bought it hook, line, and sinker, and before he had swept her down the rabbit hole, she’d been ready to write a story that would present him in the most flattering light possible.
God.
Lois stopped again and swallowed hard around the tightness in her chest. Steady. Calm. He needed to think he had her under his spell. And she needed him to think it so she could figure out her next move. What to do from here. Who to call. How to get the Daily Planet put back as it was supposed to be.
She found him right away. Sitting in the very first place she checked. The first hallway to the left. She eyed the gold lettering over the doors: ‘Krypton Wing.’ It bore his likeness just as everything did, and underneath it the words ‘A Gift from the Stars.’
She rolled her eyes. Was that conceited enough for him?
He was just sitting in there, in the dark. Much as she had been doing for the last few hours. His eyes were fixed on one of those glowing hologram thingies she hadn’t been able to figure out. His ridiculous red cape was a mass of wrinkles around him. And he must have heard her coming, he had to have heard her, because he looked for all the world like the loneliest guy on the planet.
It was a good effect. A great pose. And it would have convinced someone else. But he had no idea who he had picked to mess with. He would, though. Soon enough. She’d make sure of that.
“I want to go home,” she told him, deciding to force his hand. If his plan was to keep her here, under his control in this crazy place, he was going to have to give himself away right now. Because she was going to leave, otherwise. Simple as that.
“Me too,” he said softly, his brown, troubled eyes meeting hers for a meltingly long minute. “And now I know where that is. Or... was.”
He was good. She gave him that much.
“Well, see you later, then,” she said briskly, spinning around to leave.
Just as she expected, he rose to his feet hurriedly. “Wait,” he called. “You’re...? Where are you going, Lois? We need to... be together, I think.”
”Oh, you do, do you?” She turned and spat the words at him. So much for calm and methodical. That wasn’t how she did things anyway. Head first, damn the torpedoes. That’s what had always worked for her. “Am I not humiliated enough for you? Did you want to see me... naked? Crying? Begging you not to tell my secrets to anyone? Did you think you could embarrass me into keeping quiet? Because you can’t. You won’t. You will have to kill me first.” She hissed each word for emphasis, letting all the venom that had built up over the very long day bleed into them. “I’m going to tell the world about you,” she said softly, deadly serious. “And if you stop me, then someone else will. Don’t think getting rid of one reporter will do the trick for you. And don’t think that getting rid of hundreds of reporters will do it either. The truth is bigger than that. The truth finds a way. The truth-”
“What did they do to you, Lois?” he asked in agonized tones. Again, very effective if you didn’t know better. “I should have come with you, shouldn’t have let Perry separate us when we didn’t know what was going on.”
“Ah ha!” She moved towards him, waving her finger in his face triumphantly. Maybe he was going to kill her, but she was going to have her say. “That was *not* Perry, and if you’re pretending that it was, then you are a part of this. This is *your* doing. *Your* twilight zone. And I’m not buying, space boy. You hear me? Not! Buying!”
He faltered. One hand moved to scrub through his hair, as the other reached for her, almost in supplication. She slapped his hand away, then winced because it was like hitting concrete. She slapped his hand again, though, when he reached with apology on his face, as if sorry she’d been hurt.
“I’m going home,” she said between clenched teeth. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t try to stop her. She checked just once, tossing a cautious look over her shoulder to make sure she was, indeed, making the get away that she seemed to be making. She pushed open the lobby doors and stepped out onto the peaceful, dark streets of her city.
Back in her element. Back in reality. Away from him and his house of evil... or whatever.
She ran. Flat out. Full speed, shoes in her hand, lungs aching. At this time of night there were no pedestrians. No one to hinder her. And she wanted her legs to put as much distance as possible between that place and her, between her past and now. Between his soulful, apologetic brown eyes and what she really knew him to be.
She had survived it. She was Lois Lane. That was what she did. But what a day. What a story. She would go home and start writing. She ignored the voice inside her telling her that even if she did, she had no place to send the story. He had... warped the Daily Planet. First things first. She would get it all down. And then come back in the morning and see what things were like. If, as she suspected, he was practicing some sort of mind control, then maybe all she needed to do was get away from him. Sleep it off. Then in the morning the...hallucination or illusion...would be broken.
A rustle of wind, a breeze which blew her hair, brought her from her thoughts, reminding her how shaky her legs where. She slowed just a touch. Checking her progress. Checking over her shoulder...
She screamed. A full throated cry of pure despair and terror was ripped from her and she would have run straight into a lamp post if he hadn’t grabbed her shoulders and steered her around it.
She lost it. “No! No! Leave me alone! Don’t.... don’t!!”
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not. I’m not,” he said when she drew a breath long enough to stop yelling. He held his hands up in surrender, but continued to keep pace with her three feet off the ground. “I swear, Lois. I swear I won’t touch you again. Won’t force you anywhere. Wouldn’t hurt you for all the world.”
His voice cracked on that last hurried promise and she stopped, doubling over, sucking in air. Running was useless anyway when he could move like that. She hated herself but she started to cry. A rough, choking cry because she was so exhausted she could barely stand.
“Let me take you home,” he pleaded in a low voice, keeping his distance from her. “Let me. I’ll take you home and we’ll see if it’s...I don’t know...the same or different like the Daily Planet...God.” Now he sounded on the verge of tears, too. She looked up at him through blurry eyes, and couldn’t tell if his were watery, also, or if that was just her imagination.
Or part of what he wanted her to think.
She jerked around and continued walking. “No.”
He didn’t argue. “Ok. I’m going to sit right here, Lois.” He pointed to a bench along the sidewalk. “Here. At the corner of...” He glanced at the street signs. “Sunny Street and Happy Way,” he read in disbelief, his eyebrows rising into his hairline.
She turned and glared at him. “You aren’t funny.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing funny about this. I just want you to know I’ll be sitting right here. I won’t go anywhere. If you need me, you can just call. I’ll hear you. But I won’t come otherwise. I won’t bother you, ok?”
She watched him as he sat down slowly. Crossing his long legs at the ankles and resting his arms along the back of the bench. Looking like a guy who was waiting for a bus and nothing more. There wasn’t anything about him that spoke of menace.
He was good. Really good.
“Fine.” She didn’t have the strength to say anything more. She was spent. She wouldn’t write tonight after all. She would just go home, shower, and fall into the bed. With any luck she’d be too tired to dream. And in the morning, she’d deal with things.
She limped off down the street, looking back at various intervals until she rounded the corner out of sight. At last glance he was still sitting there, illuminated by a single street light, watching her go.
***
He didn’t have to wait long for her to return. It took every ounce of control in him not to stand and go to meet her when he heard her coming. Her heart was beating painfully fast and her soft, jerking sobs ripped straight through him. Clark closed his eyes and held himself still. He didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was.
And she was terrified. He could only imagine what she had found when she had gone looking for the comfort of her home. The familiarity of her apartment, her bed, her things.
None of them would have been there, if he had guessed correctly. Because nothing about this place, wherever they were, was as it should be. The Daily Planet and Centennial Park were in the right locations. As were all the buildings in sight. But everything else about them was...wrong. Their architecture was subtly altered. And while he hadn’t budged from his bench, keeping his word to Lois, he had x-rayed as far up and down the city blocks as his eyes could see.
And that was far.
They weren’t alone, despite how it looked. There was absolutely no traffic on the street, no pedestrians, but the city was as crowded as Metropolis always was. It was the dead of night and everyone was home and apparently relaxing, some sleeping, others going about their business. He knew because he had looked, had seen into countless apartments.
Nothing in the city was open, which was odd. The only light was the one he was sitting under. Motion sensitive. It had turned on when he walked by, and since he was still here, it still shone. He had noted the technology when Lois had stomped up the street. Lights had flickered on and off in her wake.
None of the stores seem to cater to a night crowd. No bars. No clubs. No hang-outs. And there was absolutely no one hanging out. Another oddity. Not even some poor down-on-his-luck guy looking through the dumpsters.
There were no dumpsters. And the streets were so clean. So unMetropolis like.
Lois would have noticed all of that by now, on her long walk back, he was sure of it. Just as he had, when he was alone enough and still enough, to let it register. The street names were the least of the changes.
They weren’t home. They were... somewhere very, very far from home. And how they had gotten here and what they would do now, he couldn’t even begin to fathom. But first, before anything, he needed to gain her trust. To assuage some of her fears. Her primary one. That he was responsible for this.
He felt a twist in his gut, a hard ache at the very thought. Who could blame her? He certainly didn’t. But he needed her to get past it. He needed Lois Lane on his side- working with him- if they were going to get a handle on what was happening.
Because he was clueless. And just as scared as she was.
Her breathing had evened out. She had stopped crying. Trying to pull herself together to put on a brave, no doubt, defiant face for his sake. So he wouldn’t see that he had broken her.
Again he felt a clench in his heart, similar to the one he’d felt on their first meeting. She was something else. He smiled slightly, despite the circumstances. He was lucky to be stuck here with her. He just wished he could convince her to feel the same.
***
“What have you done to... everything?” she said wearily, plopping down on the bench next to him.
“This wasn’t me,” he answered simply.
“Right,” she said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back on the bench. His arm was still there, but she didn’t bother to recoil. She was too tired for that. She just needed five minutes of shut eye and then...
No. She had no idea what then, she finally admitted to herself. None whatsoever. Hadn’t someone said things always look better in the morning? She remembered that dimly. The sun will come out tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day. Joy comes in the morning. Stupid stuff like that.
Well, she would just put that to the test, wouldn’t she? Morning had a lot of work to do to straighten this tangle out. She yawned. She could feel him looking at her, but she couldn’t seem to get her eyelids open so she could glare at him. She just thought a glare in his direction. If he was mind reader, that could work.
She sank into blessed blackness, letting it come and envelope her, wrap her in warm, steady arms and carry her away as if on a current of air.
Ok, morning, do your best.
***
She woke on a hard floor in an enormous room she didn’t recognize. She lay on her back studying the ceiling for an extra minute. It dipped sharply at the sides, had exposed beams which, from her angle, looked like the bones of a ship upside down. It looked ancient, but sturdy.
She sat up stiffly. Morning had come, and she was ready for the part where it all seemed better somehow. She was obviously in some sort of attic. She looked down, aware of the warm, red silk that was tucked around her. She threw it off and untangled her legs.
“Here,” said a quiet voice from behind her. She was on her knees, but she moved quickly to face him. He was sitting against the wall not far from her and he had obviously been watching her sleep. “It’s coffee.” He held up a steaming mug. “I thought you might...” He shrugged, set it down close to her and moved away.
She picked it up tentatively. She did operate better with a little caffeinated assistance. And if ever there was a morning when she needed it...
So, as long as it wasn’t drugged...
She sniffed it experimentally.
He noticed, and for some reason a smile spread over his face. When she started to sip, he sat back down, as if they had both passed some sort of test. “I reheated that a few times, so I hope it’s still good.”
It was. Better than any she had ever tasted, actually. She just wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Lois.” His voice dropped to a serious tone. “Just hear me out, ok? There was a man named Tempus-”
She choked. Her coffee seared its way down as she coughed and sputtered. He stepped towards her cautiously, only moving to give her a gentle thump on the back when she nodded vigorously.
“Should have waited until you swallowed,” he said with some chagrin.
“You think?” she wheezed.
“Then... you do remember?” She couldn’t miss the desperate hope in the question.
“He had... a... ring... or something,” she said with a frown, trying to concentrate. He practically melted into the floor. Relief fell from him in waves she could almost see.
“I remember the ring, too,” he said, grabbing for her hand and sitting next to her. “And he wasn’t alone. There were others there, trying to stop him.”
“He called one of them Andrus.” She closed her eyes, seeing the scene float in front of her vaguely, trying to picture exactly where everyone had been standing. “How did we both forget that?” she asked in wonder.
“I don’t know. Tempus obviously activated something that brought us here. Maybe amnesia is a part of it.”
“When did you remember?” She turned to face him, glancing at the hand that still held hers tightly. “And... I’m sorry. For what I said. For what I thought-”
“Don’t,” he cut her off with a shake of his head. “It’s not necessary. How could you think otherwise? It came to me sometime after you fell asleep. Just sort of filtered through in bits and pieces. Almost like watching a movie. A really, really confusing movie.”
“A Fellini film.”
“Very Fellini-esque. And at some point it just all fit together and I remembered.... most if it, anyway. I had come back to meet you at EPRAD. We haggled over the interview. Then we were interrupted by a bunch of characters who knew us but we didn’t know them. They argued. And then... zap.”
“Zap? It was more like Zzzzt.”
He laughed, squeezing her hand. “I hoped that when you woke up, you would remember on your own. Or if not, if because I’m different I could remember what you couldn’t, then maybe I could talk you into believing me.”
“So, the coffee was a bribe,” she said, arching her brow at him.
“You bet,” he agreed. “And plenty more where that came from, too.”
“Where did this come from? And where are we?”
He shifted a bit uncomfortably. “I didn’t know where to go last night when you fell asleep out there. So, I just picked you up and brought you back here. This is the Daily Planet. The top floor. It isn’t used. None of the higher floors are. And since it’s kind of the epicenter of the weirdness, I thought we should be here.”
“Makes sense. And the coffee?”
“Swiped it from the employee lounge downstairs.” He blushed. “I know we aren’t *technically* employees, but yesterday everyone seemed to think we were, so...”
“They thought we were or they wanted us to think they thought that,” she countered. “Did you notice the other guys dressed like you? The ones dressed like Perry? You should have seen the Cat Grant look-alikes.”
He nodded. “Something really... strange is going on here. And... I can’t imagine what.”
“We should stay here today,” she said. “Act as if we work here for real and do a bit of investigating. I’d like to get my hands on the person who came up with the life and times of Lois Lane exhibit.”
“I don’t know,” he said gently. “Maybe there’s another way? Are you really up for another day in the... DF wing? Pretending we’re pretending to be ourselves. I’m not sure I am.”
“It’s now the Lane Family wing. And yes, I’m up for it. I was too distracted by everything yesterday. And completely focused on you being the culprit. I didn’t dig any deeper.” She paused and took another sip. “Rookie mistake.”
“The weird stuff isn’t contained within these walls, though,” he argued. “You saw the city last night. And... your apartment...” He hesitated. “Was it... still there?”
“It was.” She smiled grimly. “Looking nicer than I’ve seen it. I had no idea that building could look like that. But when I tried to go in...” She scowled, remembering last night’s mad dash to the doors, her one goal the safety and normalcy of her home.
“Different locks?” he guessed. “Different tenants?”
“No locks whatsoever,” she countered. “It was roped off. It’s some sort of landmark. Shown by appointment only.”
“We are definitely not home.”
“We aren’t, are we? But how? And why, for that matter?”
“Maybe we find out today,” he said, and she recognized he was trying to cheer her, cheer them both, maybe. “We go with your plan and play along for the morning. Which means it’s back to Krypton for me.” He rose to his feet and reached for his cape.
“Is Krypton the name of your planet?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I saw it yesterday. Saw some... really amazing stuff actually.”
She remembered how he had looked when she found him the previous evening. That hadn’t been an act, then. He had clearly been moved by what he had seen. And maybe as shaken as she’d been.
“Was it stuff you had...bad memories of?” she asked carefully, finger combing her hair from her face and glancing around for her shoes.
He handed them to her. “No. It was stuff I had no memory of. There was so much about me, about my origins that I never knew, Lois. And it was all there. In that one wing. Every answer to every question I ever asked myself, and more that I didn’t even think to ask.”
“You should be careful, then.” She put her shoes on and tried to brush the dust from her suit jacket. She would definitely visit the cast locker rooms today. Find a change of clothes. “Tempus brought us here for a reason. He has an agenda. That wing is probably an attempt to manipulate you, a lie. You can’t trust it.”
“Was the Lane Family wing a lie?” he asked her seriously, his eyes searching hers. “Was that what upset you so much? Were there things in there about your family, things that weren’t true, that hurt you?”
She blew out a deep breath. “Actually, no. Whoever Tempus is, he got it exactly right.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s all in the past. Mostly. And apparently, it’s all in the Lane Family wing. Did you look anyplace else yesterday?”
“I didn’t.” He looked embarrassed. “Eventually my group got tired of waiting on me and struck out on their own. I was just... frozen there. I couldn’t read enough, couldn’t watch enough. Couldn’t take it all in well enough. Basically, I walked ten paces into that room and never moved again.”
“So, Tempus contained us rather successfully yesterday,” Lois said thoughtfully. “We probably did exactly what he wanted us to do.”
He pushed the door open. It swung on rusty hinges, emitting a piercing squeal. “We walked in under our own power yesterday. No one forced us. And we left unchallenged, too. Those were all our choices.”
“What we thought were our choices,” she said as she jogged down the long stairwell. “Maybe they weren’t. Here’s our plan. You work your room and I’ll work mine. We talk to as many employees as we can. See if we can find out who pays them, how long they’ve been here, what they were told when they were hired.”
“They might all be in on this,” he cautioned.
“More than likely. But if so, they’ll all have the same basic story and that’s a give-away, too. Trust me, I’ve done this before.”
“You’ve led tours of your life history while impersonating yourself? Great. Because I’m a little green at this.”
“Cute,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Sorry, keep going.”
“Talk to the visitors who come in and out. Ask them where they’re from, how long they’ve been in town, what their favorite part of Metropolis is. Or if they live in Metropolis, pretend you’re new in town...”
“No need to pretend there.”
“...and ask some general ‘what is there to do here?’ type questions.”
“Right.”
“You never know what piece of information will break everything open, so pay attention to everything. We’ll meet back in a couple hours, compare notes. That’s about all I’m going to be able to stand anyway.”
“Sounds like a plan, partner.”
She halted on the stair just below him and he nearly crashed into her. “What did you just say?” she demanded.
“Uh,” he said a bit thickly. “I... hadn’t mentioned, Lois. And actually, wasn’t sure it was strictly necessary, but... I’m-”
“Staff meeting has already started guys,” called a bright-eyed kid as he sailed past them. “New schedules are up on the board. New assignments by request only. If you’re late, have a good excuse ready.”
Well, he wasn’t Jimmy Olsen, but his timing wasn’t the only thing eerily familiar about him.
“Some things are universal,” Lois said, moving to follow the cub reporter look-alike. “Let’s go find some answers. I’d really like to sleep in my own bed tonight.”
***
It had been twenty-four hours and Madge was starting to fear the worst.
“He said he hadn’t killed them,” Hank reminded her kindly as she circled her desk for the hundredth time.
“I know,” Madge said around the lead weight in her heart. “Check the vitals for me once more, would you, Petal?”
Obediently, and with an airy, bemused smile meant to indicate she was humoring her, Madge’s other assistant, Petal, moved to the cabinet which housed instruments known only to a very few who worked in the building.
That the instruments even existed would be enough to create panic among the citizens of their world. That they had to exist because Tempus did, would only cause more upheaval. Utopia’s lifelines were carefully monitored, and had been ever since it had been shown necessary for the community’s very survival.
If you were to ask an average citizen on the street what he or she imagined the Ministry of Helpers and Peacekeepers really did, the answer would be vague, or none at all. In a society that was entirely peaceful, where everyone prided themselves on being helpful, the Ministry no doubt seemed unnecessary. Quaint, even.
In fact, for most of the populace the Ministry was nothing more than an outdated bureaucracy that had resorted to selling excellent baked goods to keep its idle employees in pensions. That had been Madge’s predecessor’s idea. When others had voted to hide the building, cloak it from outside eyes so as not to arouse even an inking of suspicion over what went on inside, Odias Sinders had loudly declared that no one, not one person, ever felt uneasy or threatened by baked goods. Their smell reminded everyone of home and hearth and mother. All the good things and none of the bad.
So, with simple, unimpressive architecture and a central location in the heart of Utopian Metropolis as part of the disguise, as well as a gourmet bakery in the front, the Ministry of Helpers and Peacekeepers existed unnoted. Except on Wednesdays, which was two-for-one donut day.
Behind the bakery and past the kitchens sat a small building lined in lead. A left-over safeguard from previous generations, when there had still been Lane-Kents with x-ray vision among them.
Of course they were all known to be unfailingly honest. But the thinking at the time had been there was no sense risking the family finding out what really happened behind those walls, especially as it was their fate, in particular, which depended on the work done inside.
And it wasn’t just the building that housed secrets. Those who worked there did, too. They had all taken vows of silence on certain subjects. They were all sworn to protect Utopia from a madman. And they were all pleasantly plump from two-for-one donut days.
Every morning Madge kissed her husband Fredrick goodbye at their door. He knew where she was going and the administrative title she held. But the rest of it, the losing the founders of Utopia and thereby endangering their very existence part, well, she hadn’t mentioned it over breakfast that morning. Or any morning. Ever.
“It all looks good,” Petal said, smiling her serene smile and moving back to her work.
Madge would miss her. Petal and her kindness. Hank and his loyalty. Anna and her coffee.
But she was expecting a call from upstairs at any time. And an entire day later she still had nothing new to report. Tempus had been dealt with. Again. She could have sworn that man enjoyed the many ways and places they thought to exile him.
There was a committee that worked round the clock brainstorming just that very thing. The Places to Drop Tempus Safely committee, or PDTS, had been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night and told to get to work.
Madge hoped that this latest one took. And that in time Tempus would grow restless enough to talk to her.
“Where is Tempus now?” she fretted to Hank and Petal. She was forgetting. “USA, eighteen century asylum?”
“No, Madge,” said Hank softly. “That was a few crimes ago. PDTS put him in...” Hank found the folder right on top of her desk, just where she had put it down. Madge sat. She was tired. Tired and not thinking. This was not good. “Prehistoric North America. The Dakotas, to be exact. Tough winters, but plenty of game to sustain him. And maybe when it gets cold enough, he’ll feel more like chatting. ”
“And those lifelines?” Madge repeated.
This time Petal’s patient smile seemed forced. “I just told you.”
“Check again, dear, please.”
She kept her eyes closed to avoid seeing the long look she knew Petal and Hank were exchanging.
“Coffee,” said the lovely Anna, entering the room.
“Bless you,” Madge told her.
“The levels have dropped,” Petal said, her voice cracking. “Just in the last two minutes.”
Madge sat back and sipped on her coffee. She wasn’t surprised. This is what she had been waiting for. “Call upstairs,” she said to Hank, who was standing, frozen, staring at the monitors. “And see if they can find that damned Wells.”
She had cursed.
Anna, Hank, and Petal all turned startled faces in her direction, pale and shaky, pupils dilated. Poor kids. First the dip in the lifelines and now this. “Sorry,” she said, smiling brightly. “I read that word somewhere. Seemed appropriate for just this situation.”
“Hell, yeah,” said Hank, moving to make the call.
***
tbc... see you Tuesday!
