A Well-Timed Death (Booker Shield Book 1)

by Karl Bourdiec

  ‘Who’s that?’ Adam whispered to Rich, pointing a finger. Somehow, he still understood social cues, better than Booker did at least.

  ‘This is Sara.’ Booker answered.

  ‘Is he an idiot?’ He mumbled into Rich’s ear.

  ‘No he has no memories, a lot of how we are, who we are, it’s all down to our memories.’ Explained Rich, Booker didn’t understand social cues and Rich had gotten used to that.

  ‘Okay then, what we have here is two pieces of a puzzle.’ Booker spoke out, in his head these two people who sat in front of him were nothing but meat. Nothing but pieces of a jigsaw of which to put together. One of them was a WAG, which in Booker's eyes was worse than nothing.

  ‘Is she sleeping?’ Adam asked like the idiot child he was.

  ‘Kind of.’ Rich answered with care. Adam gave Sara a poke in the hopes of waking her up.

  It did.

  ‘I’m wet, I’m wet.’ She screeched for a second and fell back into a slump once Adam moved away.

  She woke up for a second. Kind of.

  A silence fell over the room, taking over everybody as it did. Nobody moved, except Adam who didn’t seem to understand what just happened.

  Not that Booker, Rob or Rich did, but Adam doubly didn’t comprehend what had just happened, his head swished back and forward trying to look at everybody in the room at once.

  ‘Sidebar?’ Asked Booker, everybody nodded slowly and left, leaving Adam and the still dead Sara alone in the holding room.

  ‘What the fuck was that?’ Rich asked in a hushed voice, worrying Adam would hear him and begin to freak out.

  ‘I have no fucking clue.’ Booker joined in the whispering.

  ‘Why are you dragging a dead girl into my holding room?’

  ‘Shouldn’t you have asked that earlier? She’s in there now, and as you can see it’s kind of important we find out what the fuck is linking these two people.’ Booker spoke with speed and intensity as if he only had a few seconds or little air to work with.

  ‘It looked like when they touched, she woke up.’ Chimed in Rob, who didn’t seem to know what else he was there for.

  ‘I could see that.’ Booker shot at him, he raised his eyebrows making his eyelids go a sunflower yellow. Then it dawned on them, all three scurried back in, although Rob was just following at this point.

  ‘Adam, I need a favour.’ Booker spoke down to him, Adam nodded but never looked Booker in the eye.

  ‘I need you to grab Sara’s arm, and don’t let go for as long as you can, can you do that?’ Adam nodded again.

  ‘Good.’ Booker tapped Adam on the shoulder, stood up and stepped back.

  It was a slow start, Adam reached out his arm, hand attached. Inching his way toward Sara’s arm, which lay dangling like a damp dishcloth.

  Everybody held their breath, except Sara, who wasn’t really using her share.

  In Booker’s head they never touched, not at the start, he swore there was a spark, like the static before a storm. Rob disagreed, Rich, didn’t care because what he saw next didn’t compare to a spark of electricity.

  It would be like being more excited by the bolts of lightning which brought the monster to life over fearing Frankenstein's monster.

  Arm’s flew around the room, Sara shook, flailing her limbs around, trying to buck Adam off. He held on tight, there was no fear of bruising because bruises needed blood. Adam seemed to be dragged around beyond his power to stop Sara, he seemed a little scared, but so did the rest of the room.

  ‘I’m wet.’ She screamed, she wasn’t this was just a memory, the last images of life being played over and over in her head.

  ‘Can you calm her down?’ Rich yelled, his fingers pressed to his ears, which helped only a little. Booker nodded in reply.

  ‘Sara.’ He screamed trying to get over the screams.

  ‘I’m wet.’ She cried.

  ‘If you don’t calm down, Adam will let go again.’ Threatened Booker, this was kind of true, Adam had already started to loosen his grip due to her thrashing around.

  ‘Three.’ Booker counted. Adam’s middle finger lost contact.

  ‘Two.’ He continued, as that’s how numbers normally went down.

  Before Booker could say one, Sara dropped, this time she dropped a little too far to the left and slid from the chair.

  ‘I wasn’t actually going to get you to let go.’ Booker turned to Adam, who was rubbing his wrist which ached from the movement.

  Adam gave a forced frown.

  Once Sara had been picked up and placed back on to her seat, work all done by Rob and Rich, Booker just played on his phone, Booker stepped forward with an idea.

  ‘We could tie her up.’ He suggested. There were hushed whispers between Rob and Rich and they both agreed, with each other, that was a terrible idea.

  Adam just sat, watching a flake of paint on the wall. It wasn’t doing much, but that’s why he liked it, everything else was doing too much. This paint flake did nothing.

  ‘Okay.’ Rich said taking over the conversation.

  ‘This time we’ll try something a little different.’ He continued, grabbing Booker by the shoulders Rich pushed him in front of Sara, preparing to calm her down again. Rob held her by the shoulders, in the hopes this would reduce her movements enough to give Booker and Adam time to bring her down. Rich stood sat behind the desk, he didn’t know how long she’d be sticking around for, so placed himself behind Booker. So, Booker could step aside and allow him to ask questions quickly.

  ‘Three.’ Rich said aloud.

  ‘Two.’ Booker tried to take over.

  ‘I hate this counting thing.’ Said Rob, wincing before this even started.

  ‘One.’ Adam said grabbing Sara by the wrist, giving her the spark of life.

  ‘I’m wet.’ She screamed. Booker hoped nobody heard her scream that through the police station, people knew him here. Maybe they didn’t like him, but they did know him.

  ‘You are not fucking wet. Calm the shit down now.’ Screamed Booker, this isn’t what Rich had in mind but after the echoing, there was silence Sara wriggled a little but that was a good sign. Dead people tended not to wriggle so much so any movement Sara was willing and able to make was a good sign.

  ‘Oh, hey Booker.’ Sara said, her voice suddenly soft after that storm of screaming. Booker just stood in absolute confusion. There was a cough from behind him, Rich pretended to clear his throat.

  ‘Oh.’ Booker stepped out of the way, his soft shoes making small clicking noises as he moved from one side of Sara to another, clearing a path for her to see Rich. Who stood with his hands in one of the many pockets he had on his pants. Rich chose the ones on his hips, as the pockets on his knees may have been a little more difficult to reach comfortably.

  There was a silence as if these people were just stood in a waiting room.

  ‘Hey.’ Sara chirped to Rich, she looked up to see who clenched her shoulders. The grip was soft and loose but still present. It was Rob, he stood as if getting a family photograph.

  ‘Hey, Rob.’ Sara grinned, there was something about Rob she liked, there was something about Rob everybody liked.

  There was a tiny click, the sound of something whirling. A small tape recorder sat on the desk gaining speed. Sara watched it for a moment after she realised what it was it became less interesting, she was obviously in a police station. The desk and the copper sat on the other side of it gave that away. Sara’s eyes finally flickered over to the right of her.

  ‘I thought you couldn’t get a hold of Alan.’ Sara said looking over to a man she knew.

  ‘Em, what now?’ Booker’s eyes popped in wonder.

  ‘You are fucking kidding me.’ Rich said astonished.

  ‘Rich don’t swear, you’re at work.’ Told Booker.

  ‘Who’s Alan?’ Adam popped up, still holding tightly onto Sara’s wrist.

  ‘I’m guessing you are.’ Said Rob, who seemed to be the only one holding himself together at this po
int.

  ‘Oh, am I? That’s nice.’ Adam sat for a second, he tapped his chin for a second or two. ‘I think I prefer Adam.’

  ‘Actually, so do I.’ Agreed Booker.

  Sara sat in confusion, was the world taking crazy pills? She thought to herself.

  ‘That’s a good question though?’ Asked Rob.

  ‘What is?’ Sara jumped back in shock, maybe Rob could read minds and the worry about what she thought on a regular basis scared her.

  ‘Who’s Alan? ’ Rob finished his thought.

  ‘I think I am.’ Adam put his hand up.

  ‘For now, you’re still Adam I think. It’s all getting very confusing.’ Booker said, leaning on the wall still. Even this had barely peaked his interest.

  ‘If Adam is the real Alan, who’s the Alan who’s dodging our calls?’ Asked Rob, he aimed the question at Rich and Booker, they were in the business of working out this information for themselves. If anybody could do it in this room, it had to be them.

  ‘No clue.’ Booker replied, shrugging his shoulders and wiggling to try and comfortable.

  ‘Where am I?’ Asked Sara, her human wristwatch still clinging to her.

  ‘What?’ Booker asked amazed that anybody could be thinking about where they were over who was pretending to be their husband.

  ‘Where am I?’ She asked again, thinking she just wasn’t heard.

  ‘A police station.’

  ‘It’s much nicer than the morgue.’ She commented, her voice directed at Rich as he seemed to walk around the place like it was his second home.

  ‘Thank you. I think.’ Rich nodded with a lip service smile.

  ‘Okay, wait. This is Alan, who thinks he’s called Adam, there’s somebody who you’ve called and is saying he’s Alan?’ Rich tried to get things straight.

  ‘We’ve spoken to him once.’ Corrected Rob.

  ‘But it is Alan’s phone?’ Sara spoke up flailing her arm a little.

  ‘We got a business card from his office, it was his number.’ Booker said sombrely.

  ‘Then that’s his killer.’ Sara answered with haste. Both Rich and Rob looked at Booker, who shrugged back.

  ‘Makes sense.’ Booker said. ‘They killed him, stripped the body and kept the phone to pretend Alan was busy and still alive, I doubt he expected him to stay alive really. At one point, when the killers far away enough, chuck the phone somewhere, when there’s enough distance between him and us.’ He continued, thinking like a killer was what he did best, which was worrying.

  ‘So, we have until he dumps the phone?’ Asked Rich.

  ‘To find him? Yeah.’ Booker spoke softly like he knew something was wrong and wasn’t willing to share the information.

  ‘What is it, Booker?’ Rich always picked up on the missing information Booker held to himself.

  ‘It’s these two. No offence.’ Booker pointed at the two who were still barely together. ‘It still doesn’t make sense. Like your connected. Not just physically, but atomically. It’s all very sweet and romantic but fuck me is it confusing.’

  ‘It’s like they’re entangled.’ Rob suggested a better wording. Silence fell again, it seemed to emanate from Booker's mind.

  ‘What do you mean entangled?’ Booker broke the silence he had sort of created.

  ‘I read a thing about quantum entanglement, it’s where atoms are grouped together but can be miles away from each other.’ Rob’s jaw dropped, which made it very difficult to continue to talk. ‘That’s this.’ Rob finished after pulling his jaw back together.

  ‘You think?’ Booker asked in a sarcastic tone, ‘Where did you read this thing?’

  ‘Your office, it was in a newspaper.’

  ‘You’re a fucking idiot. Go start the car.’ Commanded Booker, Rob just stood still. ‘Go start the car.’ Booker yelled. Rob stood for a few seconds, then pelted out of the Station. Booker followed on after.

  ‘Can I ask why Alan is holding my arm so tight.’ Sara spoke up after a brief pause.

  ‘Oh yeah, if he lets go you will die.’ Rich answered he gave a soft smile as if nothing was wrong. ‘I’ll go get some cuffs I think.’ And Rich left.

  Now the room was dead, literally, the only two people who filled it was in fact, and for all intensive purposes, dead.

  Adam sniffed, he didn’t need to, he wasn’t even breathing, he just sniffed.

  ‘I think I do prefer Adam.’ Adam said aloud.

  ‘I expect I will too.’ Sara agreed, recalling how Alan was as a husband.

  The door slid open again, Rich stepped in with a pair of solid handcuffs. They glinted in the light, the left and right wrist bangles were a chrome or stainless steel, Sara wasn’t sure, and Adam wasn’t looking. In the centre a large piece of thick, black plastic held the cuffs in place.

  ‘I always thought they had a chain in the middle.’ Sara commented.

  ‘Just the fancy dress ones. It’s so people can’t wriggle out of them, probably for the best in your case.’

  ‘Find my phone.’ Sara yelped as if a dog bit her.

  ‘What?’ Rich asked confused, he pushed Adam’s hand into Sara’s and they clasped tight. The cuffs were placed on.

  ‘Find my phone, Alan had find my phone on.’ Sara barked, she’d become the dog. ‘If his phone is still on we can track it. I know his password.’ She paused for a second. ‘I know his password?’ she didn’t use to.

  14

  Rob drove with fury, nothing was going to happen to the paper or the office, but he was in a rush to prove himself.

  Prove he could be a help other than being a set of wheels for Booker.

  Booker felt as if he was going to vomit. He pushed his feet into the carpet of the car, held onto the handle above the door with the left hand and pushed his right hand into the dash, trying to steady himself, make him feel still, he wasn’t sure what the purpose was he just knew it made him feel a little better about himself, as if he had control of the situation.

  They both sped up the stairs, jumping two or three steps in a stride. Rob had only been in this office once, it still felt strange and alien to him.

  As the door opened Booker walked straight in, Rob saw something black move from the table to somewhere unknown in a heartbeat. There was no struggle at the top of the stairs to get through the door like in old sitcoms, Rob was much slower than Booker, therefore, Rob was the last in the room.

  ‘It’s the cat.’ Booker told Rob in the sort of way which said, I’ve told you before. He hoped it was the cat, or even a cat, just to be from earth would be enough to put Booker’s mind at ease.

  Rob made an audible noise which he would describe as a sigh and entered the office. The newspapers were not where he’d left them, they now were scattered on the floor forming little paper tents. The corners of which were wet.

  Booker picked a few of the pages up, rubbed the ink and paper between his fingers and sniffed the mixture.

  ‘It’s champaign.’ He yelped. It dripped small balls of water from the corner of the paper, which fell between Booker’s sneakers. The odd drop splashed back wetting the side of his foot.

  ‘Thank God, I thought it was cat piss.’ Replied Rob stepping further into the office and picking up the remainders of the newspapers, slotting them back together and placing them smoothly at the corner of the table. His hands got a little wet from tidying, just damp so he rubbed them on his work pants. He’d actually forgot he was still in his supermarket uniform. No wonder people were giving him funny looks.

  Booker’s face looked as if he’d just sucked several lemons. ‘I didn’t think of that. Maybe it was cat piss. Smells all the same to me.’ He wished he had thought about cat piss before picking up the newspaper. Rob screwed up his face, danced around a little shaking his hands trying to remove them from his wrists. There was a small bucket laying on the floor which caught water when it rained through the hole in Booker’s office roof. In Rob’s hands went, not caring about how sedentary the water was. A small cloth bounced in front of hi
s face. Booker held it out for Rob to dry his hands.The six papers were cut into two piles, each with three papers.

  ‘I’m sure it’s in one of these.’ Rob assured Booker, he could see a little doubt had crept into him. Rob handed off the three papers and sat down in his shorter chair.

  There was scratching from behind a filing cabinet which they ignored and read through the papers in sync.

  ‘Here it is here.’ Rob pushed himself forward in his chair, a small article sat in the bottom right of the newspaper. It was a good few pages in and had no pictures or real information. This is what it said.

  A huge breakthrough following a break in.

  After a recent break-in at a local university, when some equipment was stolen, the University has been given another chance at success. Thanks to funding from a local business (OPULENT ACCOUNTS), they have been able to make huge breakthroughs in the field of quantum entanglement and its effects on masses of particles.

  The author of the piece found her heading amazingly humorous, nobody in the office agreed but ran it anyway. Newspaper editors are not known for being very funny. They rely on puns and that’s no way to make a living, really is it?

  ‘Is that it?’ Booker pushed Rob away from the paper, with help from the wheels he glided away.

  ‘That was it.’ Rob stopped himself with his trainer.

  ‘That’s not enough information, I need more.’

  ‘Like what?’ Rob skittered his way back to the desk.

  ‘A photo, who was there something that says, Alan and Sara were effected.’ Booker pushed the paper onto the floor in frustration, it landed in what may have been cat piss, the little text bled together making the smudges of writing merge.

  ‘How about the person who wrote it?’ Rob suggested, picking back up the newspaper with as little contact as he could.

  ‘Sounds like a good start.’

  ‘A Miss Georgina Harrison.’ Rob read.

  ‘It says Miss?’

  ‘No, I just added that in for flourish.’ Rob said, he looked up at Booker who hovered at Rob’s shoulder. Booker reached over and with a long rip, he pulled the page from the paper.

  ‘I’d have remembered her name.’ Insisted Rob.