Hunting Midnight • Ep 5 • Part 3: Dinner 👸🏻
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Part 5-3: Dinner
Our cheer was short lived, as Fergus’ mind junk began acting up soon after dinner.
Dinner, however, was very nice.
We had it in my room, on account of my general immobility, although the discomfort from the wifiburn still felt like a silly little coat of what I once knew as pain. It was more like an annoying pressure now.
Deluxe ordered us some sinful, well-earned Chinese with all the MSG, and while we waited for the delivery, Fergus and I shared our little tale. It was full of a lot of awkward silences, as I’m sure the girls weren’t exactly sure how to console recent trauma victims, if that’s what Fergus and I were.
“Why didn’t it let me in? I held the book,” asked Persi.
“You’d’ve rather been in my place?” said Fergus.
“No one deserves to go through that,” she replied.
“No,” agreed Deluxe. “And as we have before, I think it’s important we recognize the value of some cognitive reset. Persi, come help me for a moment?”
Fergus looked at me and I shrugged as Persi and Deluxe left. A moment later, in came the big screen TV from the living room. Placed on my desk, I could see it from a propped position. Deluxe ordered everyone else to get snuggly on the bed, hooked it up, and took requests for comedies.
“I thought time was of the essence?” asked Persi, brow knitted as she squirmed beside me, trying not to rub into my sore shoulders.
“It is,” said Deluxe. “But if we feed our heads nothing but Eden’s madness, I fear dire neurophysiopathological consequence—synaptic reprogramming, an acute case evident already in Fergus. We must stand against conditioning and becoming tolerant of our adversary’s mental offenses. So. Pick a comedy.”
She keyed up a movie directory. I was in.
“Zoolander,” I said.
“Fuck yes,” agreed Fergus.
“You’ll love it,” I said to Persi, poking her shoulder. “Or else we can’t be friends.”
“Why?” she said, apparently alarmed.
“I’m kidding, yeesh.”
We turned off the lights, and let the film roll. Half an hour later the food arrived. Stupid comedy and salty, greasy noodles made for a great pairing. Dinner was nice indeed, and in fact—despite three other people in my bed, myself sore, naked and hiding under one thin sheet—I felt a slice of normality creep its way back into life, like a storm soaked puppy who’d been invited to come inside.
I knew it wouldn’t last, but I ate my Chinese, chuckled at male model antics and promised my raging, cynical self that she could rant and rave after we were done eating.
Credits rolled, the last of the fried rice was scooped up, and Persi said, “That was strange, but I enjoyed it.”
Fergus fist bumped her across me, stood up and stretched, then grabbed at his head.
“What is it?” said Deluxe. “Do you see something again?”
“Ahh, damnit,” he moaned. “Fire. Tower of fire.”
“What about ticking? Any sense of time?” I asked, as Persi and Deluxe bounded off my bed. Persi hit the lights, shattering the cozy cocoon of movie night. Even the savoury taste of my General Tso’s tofu felt distant.
“It’s, um, there’s a date,” said Fergus, “Or like, I can tell it’s a certain time.”
“Try to isolate it,” said Deluxe. “Come with me, we’ll get you into a low stimulus environment.”
They all shuffled out of my room. My instinct was to leap out after them, but that elemental human instinct to hide my bare ass from the world rooted me in place. There wasn’t even a Lobster for company, just the slow roll of the credits on the TV.
“Screw it,” I said, and vaulted out of bed, ignoring the rashy burn that shot along every inch of me, gritting teeth as the sensitive bottoms of my feet touched carpet. I made it to the closet and found a housecoat, wrapped myself in its biting embrace, then tottered out of the room to see what was happening. As I made it to the living room entrance, it occurred to me that ghosting over might’ve been more convenient. Oh well.
Deluxe saw me, and put a finger to her lips. They had Fergus sitting on the couch, wearing a pair of headphones, with most of the lights off. The golden retriever poked his head in the other entrance and Deluxe snapped her fingers and made a shooing noise. Lobster huffed and left us alone.
The man on the couch held the earpieces tight to his head, eyeballs rolling and dancing under closed lids. His lips murmured, and had I not known better I’d’ve said he looked like someone trying really hard to learn or understand a song.
After a few minutes of this, he opened his eyes and pushed off the headphones.
“I can’t,” he muttered. “It’s too…”
“Too what?” I asked, unable to help myself.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s a tower of fire. It’s happening exactly at a place and a time and it won’t let me, won’t let me there.”
“We lack a trigger,” said Deluxe, nodding. “It was easy last time, a picture from Tricia Glenscot’s social feed.”
“We’ve got to find this chemistry dude,” I said. “See what his book’s done to him.”
“Ted Nijinsky, yes,” said Deluxe. “Public information suggests he’s on vacation, the end of a bit of a sabbatical. Europe. Returning in a few days. Part of why I felt we at least had the time to enjoy a flick, you see.”
I swallowed. “Anything about an airport or planes in that vision of yours, Fergus?”
“I don’t think so. It was a building. Lots of people, but… didn’t feel like an airport.”
“If you’re still able, his residence was easy to locate. Not a common surname,” said Deluxe.
“Let’s do it,” I said. “And this time, some backup. Persi?”
“I was about to suggest it myself,” she said, smiling.
“Cool. I’m going to try to get into real clothes. Deluxe, rig us up?”
“Roger that,” she said.
I inhaled, needing to convince myself that I was really ready to jump back in. Again. Obviously I was going to do it, but I’d made many a choice in life where I knew I wasn’t comfortable doing it, only to end up in a bad place, with bad people, and worse circumstances. Should I wait for a proper night’s sleep, to process what had happened in Fort Ticktock, to let my body run on something other than spicy noodles and adrenaline? Maybe heal my skin a bit, in case there was another supernova of wifi that I had to initiate?
Probably.
I compromised by detouring to the kitchen and snagging a tall can of craft lager prior to getting changed.
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No rest for the heroes in school 😂
I think that really impresses how close they've become. How long has it been since that first double date?
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I think action is too soon unless this is a warning message from the minder who has decided to help Alena and the crew. I question why he used Fergus to send the message though if that is indeed what is happening.