MF1.0 - 13 - Abeyance

The bullet passed right in front of her, between her face and the laptop screen. It slammed into the back of the wooden wardrobe with a deafening roar. Television always glossed over that part – just how loud and real the sound of a gunshot was. Stef swallowed, but didn’t look up. At this range, there was no way in hell that he’d missed accidentally. It had been a warning shot. A warning of things to come. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man move, he pressed the gun against her head, pushing it ever so slightly to the right. ‘Yes,’ she said as she looked up, ‘you have my attention.’ The bedroom was dark, and she couldn’t see the man very well, but with what she could see, it was obvious he was a narc. ‘Four more keystrokes and I’ll know the meaning of life, then you can pull the trigger.’ Tap. The gun was jammed further against her head, pushing it against the to the back wall of the wardrobe. Unfortunately, since it wasn’t a gateway to Narnia, there was no where for her to go. Splinters from the first shot pressed into her cheek, and she fought a grimace. Tap. The narc’s other hand reached in and pushed the laptop closed. Crap. She slumped, and closed her eyes - there was no point in adjusting them to the darkness. ‘Fine. Whatever. I’m not going to run.’ ‘You brought this on yourself.’  She snorted derisively. Thoughts raced through her head: the backup server would upload all of her data to the web in a week, unless they destroyed it - everything she had ever done would live on beyond this moment. The web was alive, and data was forever. Even if she wasn’t. ‘A legal job ends my life, there isn’t enough iron in the world for that.’ ‘The Solstice is hardly…’  Her eyes flew open. ‘Wait! What? WAIT! No!’ she struggled to get to her feet, but he pushed her back down. ‘Me not one of them!’ she managed as she struggled to sit back up - the cramped space of the cupboard didn’t assist in this. ‘I…I’m not one of them. A couple of big differences you might care to notice: I’m in here, they were out there, and I’m alive.’ ‘Temporarily.’  This stopped her for a moment, and she stared at the man. ‘Of course temporarily, everything, especially life, is transitory.’ The gun retreated a little. ‘Why are you here then?’ ‘For the job. Working with the code. That’s all.’ His left hand reached into the cupboard and yanked her out. She clutched the laptop to her chest, but didn’t dare open it. Her eyes had adjusted enough to make out some of the narc’s details - he was younger than his voice betrayed - somewhere in his thirties. Everything from the three-piece suit to the gun indicated she had very little chance of walking out of the room alive. ‘Speak,’ he ordered. ‘Woof!’ she barked on impulse. A shot flew past her ear and slammed into the wall behind her. ‘Scare tactics are not going to work.’ If it could have, her nose would have grown an inch. ‘Keep in mind that everyone else in this house is dead, and that there is very little you can do to convince me that you are not a member of the Solstice.’ Her eyes narrowed, and she swallowed – the reality of the moment was finally starting to set in. ‘If there isn’t anything I can do to convince you, then why bother talking to me?’ The light flickered on. He didn’t touch the light switch. Yeah…like that’s important right now. Of course it’s important, it’s data. You’re the half that’s going to get us killed. No, that would be the scary guy with the gun.

‘Very little,’ he clarified, ‘not nothing.’ She’d already said her piece, she had nothing else to say. She clutched her laptop tight, holding it as a child would a blanket, or a doll. …a doll… All she could do was stare at him, there was something off about him, something familiar, except not. Then again, that could be the fear. Memories stirred, but refused to break through the surface. He levelled the gun at her. ‘You brought this on yourself.’ The memory broke through. She swallowed and looked up at him. ‘I remember you.’