Friday, December 16, 2016

Super Meals: Part Forty-One


             Doctor Ralph waited.
             It was impossible for him to get bored, but he did occasionally get anxious, and he was starting to act like it now. He looked at his watch, again, and saw that there was still four minutes left before Mimi was considered late.
            For a moment, he imagined that she might not come at all.
            His mind spun, wondering what he would do next. After all, his entire plan hinged on Mimi bringing subject 189 to him in some way, shape, or form.
            But what if she didn’t?
            What if she were as cold as he was?
            What if she called the station and the rapid response team was surrounding the building right now?
            He strained his ears listening, but heard nothing at all.
            Because there was nothing to hear.
            He was smart, he knew, and he was certain that he was smarter than the mediocre police force in this worthless little town in the middle of nowhere. Anybody smart enough to even remotely rival Doctor Ralph would never stay in this town, he told himself, so surely the cops were nothing to concern himself with.
            He began to calm down again almost immediately when he realized that, yes, he was truly the smartest person for at least fifty miles in any direction from where he currently sat, and he reviewed all of the plans he had made in his head.
            There were two minutes left to wait.

            “Well, it was nice knowing you,” said Walter.
            “Shut up,” said Mimi.
            “You really think this is going to work?”
            “How are you feeling?”
            “Like I’m gonna get fucking shot or something walking in there like this.”
            “Then I’d say it’s going to work fine.”
            “I love how the plan calls for me to get shot…”
            “Well when you figure out how to give me the unbreakable skin, we’ll swap roles, okay?”
            “Hey, you could have ordered your own burger while we were at the restaurant.”
            “That’s not the point! He’s got Jane in there!”
            “So you said!”
            “You can’t just let my…I mean the medical examiner die!”
            “But what if I die?”
            “Quit being such a baby, you’re not going to die.”
            The two were walking, slowly, towards the front door of the county morgue. Walter was in front, Mimi behind, using him as a human shield. His hands were in front of himself, palms out, fingers spread, just as Mimi had instructed him so as to not look like a threat.
            Mimi had a gun in her right hand and was keeping it low to try and hide it behind Walter. Her left hand was on his shoulder, guiding him.
            She had taken her backup piece and tucked it into Walter’s waistband at the small of his back.
            “You know,” said Walter, “I’d feel a lot better if I were able to actually hold and use the gun.”
            “Are you kidding me? Technically I should even have it out of my holster.”
            “Then why did you shove it down the back of my pants?”
            “Because he’ll probably search me, not you.”
            Walter opened his mouth to respond, but couldn’t think of anything.
            They reached the front door of the morgue with one minute left.

            Half a block away, Adam waited in the car.
            He wasn’t happy about being left behind, and as his frustration and boredom grew, so did his body temperature.
            The upholstery beneath him started to smoke.

            It was time.

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