Tick Tock

Part 2 / ?

Let’s go back…

 

Blank.

Nothing but a blank wall with a door, a small table and a glass of water in front of him. He’s stuck. There’s no where he can go. Nowhere to run to.

Tick. Tock.

Time moves on. He’s running out of it. He can hear voices… steps… whispers. They are confident. They think they made him. They finally have him. The door opens and the man that walks in is short and stocky.  With an air of misplaced confidence and undeserved self-satisfaction.

There is a folder on the table now, thick and overflowing. All his “wrong doings”. The ones they know about. Cameron smiles. 

“You seem calm for someone in such deep s**t.”

The detective’s voice, Cameron notices, is as unappealing as his appearance. But he’s stuck, so he has to hear it. So he’ll deal with it.

Tick. Tock.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions”

That voice. Raspy and nasally.

“And you are going to answer to the best of your abilities”

Perhaps is the accent. The heavily accented English and the way he’s tongue seems to roll a little longer on his Rs.

“You do understand the position you are in right now is less than favorable right?”

Tick. Tock. 

There’s not much time.

The folder is open now and Cameron smiles, leans forward. There’s no malice in his stare, a boy young and playful. His hair a dark brown, strikes of blonde easily missed in the dim light. Just a boy.

“I don’t think you are in a situation where you can afford to smile”

“And I don’t think your folder is thick enough. I’m slyly offended.”

He finally speaks. Cameron’s voice is calm. Collected. Almost mocking.

Tick. Tock. 

There really is no time left. 

“Listen kid…”

“They are coming.”

A warning is the only thing he can offer. He hopes the man listens. He knows his attempt is futile. An empty wall, a table and a glass of water. There’s nothing more.

Tick. Tock.

“Whose coming?”

“You don’t have much time.”

“Listen kid. This isn’t something you can get out-“

“You really should had listen”

The door opens and they stepped in.

Tick. 

They are wearing suits this time. Primp from their shinny shoes to the well comb hair. Cameron sees pass it. He sees the black faces and the pitch black cloaks. Is the closest he’s ever been, and not for the first time he feels his body reacting. His pulse quickens. His hands feel moist.

“Who are you?”

Ignorance has doomed him. The stocky man with the heavy accent. Is it pity? Cameron is not sure. He can’t save him. Collateral damage. He’s use to it by now.

“I think is best if you leave. These guys are here to see me.”

Still he tries to spare him. He could do as much.

“What do you- “

Cameron thinks they’ve gotten bold. They waste no time. The detective drops. Dead weight. Body heavy as it hits the floor. The chair tumbles, the only sound he hears.

No one comes in. Cameron figures they’ve all been dealt with.

He’s out of time.

Tock.