Pins (4)

The farmhouse kitchen was spacious. White shiplap walls, open shelving and painted cabinetry. Sophie lit three candles and perched on a stool at the table opposite the worktop. Trees rustled against the window and beyond them stars winked in the night sky. Twinkle Twinkle.

Alisdair was fiddling with a bottle near the sink. His back was turned to her. There was a pop as he unscrewed the cork. 

'I'd say it's time to start considering this,' he said, pouring champagne into two flutes. 'But what I really mean is that I don't believe there are any other options. You must go. They won't take you if you're this unwell.'

Sophie coughed, as if prompted. Alisdair was dabbing at a bit of spillage with a sponge.

'The problem was that they couldn't get them out,' he said. 'They were properly wedged in. But they've managed to remove two. Two is all you need.'

Sophie reached for the glass as he placed it down in front of her. Candlelight flickered and shadows swam around them. Alisdair drank and looked at her.

'The camp is at Bakersfield,' he said. 'It's a fair trip, but... '

'I know,' Sophie said. She put her head in her hands and rubbed her sweating forehead. Alisdair reached out and lifted her left hand away. He wrapped his fingers around it.

'Don't pull the pin just yet,' he whispered. 'They can sweat for another month. Amend your reports and come out with me. This is the most important thing right now.'

Sophie squeezed his hand and coughed. She coughed again and pressed her handkerchief against her mouth. When she looked down it was dotted with blood.

'They might be listening now,' she breathed.

Alisdair glanced around. His hand shook as he held her own. 

'These things are working in tandem,' Sophie said. 'You've established this. But the camp. You've screened it? There's nothing that can't... '

'They will want to leave as soon as possible,' Alisdair snapped. 'You have to be there. Fifteen years. You have to be. We have to take this opportunity. It is a gift.'

'A gift?' Sophie frowned. 'You think it's - '

'Everything has been audited within the framework we have,' Alisdair sighed. 'Within the working knowledge we have. I've seen working examples myself.' 

'I don't want to be a working example, Alisdair,' Sophie said. 

He sat back and drank. Sophie fiddled with the pockets on her cargo trousers. There was an odd peaky noise on the edge of hearing, and it needled. She wondered if she'd left a fan on somewhere. Alisdair sipped from his glass.

'Do you know they wear masks now?' he said.

Sophie looked up and smiled.

'Masks?' she said.

'Makes them look like a bloody cult,' Alisdair grumbled. Sophie laughed softly. 

'No, it concerns me,' Alisdair said. 'It concerns me as to the way this is going. A clandestine approach is one thing, but... you know.'

Branches scratched at the window. The high-pitched frequency droned in her ear and she glanced towards the bathroom, irritated. When she looked back Alisdair was standing at the worktop, with his back to her. He was trying to twist the cork out of the bottle. Her forehead wrinkled. She felt sluggish. 

'The problem was that they couldn't get them out,' Alisdair said. 'But they've managed to remove two. Two is all you need.'

There was a pop as he unscrewed the cork. Sophie straightened her back and tried to compose herself; tried to will herself present. Her hand vibrated against the table top. She felt so tired. She had to push herself to speak.

'You've said that before,' she murmured.

'The problem was that they couldn't get them out,' Alisdair said. His words came slowly and bereft of emotion. 

Sophie slid her chair back from the table. Alisdair looked round and she caught a brief vision of his features. They were strained and distorted. His eyes and mouth were skewered in different directions. The high-pitched noise grew louder, and Sophie felt like she could almost laugh. He looks like a clown, she thought. A wave of tiredness hit her and her head rolled.

Abruptly Alisdair was sitting opposite her again, as if someone had pressed fast-forward. He was completely still. Sophie leaned against the table. There was a strange white root snaking along its edge. She reached out and touched it. Her fingers came away slicked with some gluey substance. She stumbled up and ran down the dark hallway. 
 

https://www.abctales.com/story/stephen-thom/pins-5