Authors: MICHELLE LEE
Brody is looking over some information he just received from the computer analyst in DC. She was contacted by the other police departments about the open murder cases that they think are related to Emily Lawrence. The seven other victims were all stabbed with a surgical scalpel. They had the same wounds all over the abdomens, and facial bruising, and they all had the drug Haldol in their systems. Most of which we suspected, but now we have confirmation.
Brody is looking at all the pictures and having a hard time not picturing Charlie hanging by her throat bleeding from stab wounds in her stomach. He can’t imagine what she has had to go through in the last 4 days. They are close to proving he did everything they think he’s done, but no closer to finding where he is.
He puts the pictures down, runs his hands through his hair, and stands from the table. He walks to the front door, opens it and goes outside. Standing on the porch he looks at the tree in the yard and thinks about how much Charlie loves that tree.
“I have to get out of here. Everywhere I look there are reminders of her.” He opens the door and yells inside, “I’m leaving for a bit,
if
anyone needs me call my cell.”
“Gotcha” Patrick yells back.
Brody gets in his truck and drives. He doesn’t have a destination in mind. He is driving to clear the images in his head. He is driving to help him stay positive. He is driving so he doesn’t smash and break everything in his house out of frustration.
When he stops he realizes he is outside of Charlie’s old apartment. Shaking his head he finds a parking place and goes to the front door. Today it is officially not her apartment anymore. He doubts they have rented it out yet, but is surprised when his key still works.
Walking up the three flights of stairs he stops in front of her door and unlocks that one as well. When he walks into the empty space all the air is sucked out of his lungs. On the floor beneath the window is a computer. It is showing Charlie. She is here, in her apartment; before it was emptied, wearing the clothes she wore on Thursday. It is showing a slideshow of pictures of her struggling, against an unseen assailant. The fear in her eyes is excruciating, her mouth is taped and her hands are tied behind her back.
The screen goes black, when it starts back up it shows her in a bed. She is in a black nightie. It is see through and short. She is bruised and restrained to the wall behind the bed. She is looking toward the camera but has a distant look in her eyes, as silent tears cascade over her purple cheeks.
When the screen goes black again, Brody is breathing heavily, and his heart is racing. When Charlie appears next, it is a live video feed. It is pitch black around her. She is illuminated by a night vision green light. She is naked and dirty. The cuts she had before have started to bleed and now she has new ones. She is leaning against the wall, her ribs, collar and hip bones are sticking out. She has lost so much weight.
He walks over and traces her face with his finger. He can’t believe she is in front of him. His eyes burn and his chest
is
tight. He can hear her breathing, it sounds labored. She is wheezing, like the air is hard to take in.
Brody can’t move; his feet are glued to the floor. His cell phone is ringing, but he can hardly hear it. It stops only to start again. He finally breaks his trance and answers.
“Hello?” It is hardly above a whisper.
“Are you enjoying the pictures of our girl?”
“She is not our girl, she is mine. I will find her, Michael.”
“I know Brody, that’s why I’m calling. I want you to find her.”
“Then tell me where she is.”
“Not yet. I need to break her. I want her to put on a good show for you before I tell you what to do.”
“She is stronger than you think she is. You cannot break her.”
He laughs, “Oh, I think I can. She will do whatever I ask her to do, as long as she doesn’t go back into the dark.”
“What are you going to do to her?”
“I can’t give away the finale, Brody. You will have to wait and see. I will be in touch.” He hangs up.
Brody stares at the phone in his hand and starts to shake with rage. He wants to hit something; hard. He looks at the computer screen with Charlie’s image and she is crying again, and she is saying his name over and over. Brody looses it and punches the wall over and over until his hand is a raw bloody mess. Then he sits on the floor, with his bloody hand, and watches Charlie. Afraid if he looks away, she will disappear.
Michael is very pleased with himself. After he gets off the phone with Brody he feels giddy. He knows if he waits too much longer he will be caught. He needs to hurry his plan but he doesn’t want to leave anything out. He has waited too long for this.
He stands and paces around his apartment. He didn’t want to go back to Charlie until tomorrow. With Brody watching he wants to go back, now. Patients, he tells himself. He will at least wait until he hears from his prison contact about O’Rourke.
Patrick and Chris are driving around trying to find Brody. They have been taking turns calling him but he isn’t answering.
“Why wouldn’t he answer?”
“I don’t know, maybe he finally broke down. He might just need time to himself.”
“Yeah, maybe your right.”
They are pulling onto the street where Charlie’s apartment is when Chris’s phone rings.
“Agent Fitzpatrick.”
“Fitz, it’s French, we just got a call from the prison. Apparently, there was a riot, and a couple of inmates were killed.”
“Let me guess, one of them was Shannon O’Rourke.”
“You guessed it, boss man.”
“Damn. How did it happen?”
“We are headed over there now to ask some questions, want us to meet you there?”
“Yeah, I want to see everyone’s face when we question people. I can spot a lie a mile away.”
“See you there.” With that French disconnects and Fitz puts his phone back in his pocket.
“Looks like Brody
is
on his own tonight. We have to go look into a riot at the prison.”
The corrections officer is in the mess hall making sure everyone is doing what they are supposed to. He gives a slight head nod toward the big guy in the back of the room. Without warning the room breaks out into chaos. There are people everywhere. The officer grabs O’Rourke from behind restraining him and whispers in his ear, “You were paid, handsomely to stay quiet. Now you will see what happens to rats.”
As he is holding him around the shoulders with his baton, another inmate runs past and slashes O’Rourke across his stomach spilling his intestines. He keeps running into the crowd; drops and looses the knife before anyone even knew what he did.
The officer, playing his part, waits just long enough to call for help and carry him off to the hospital ward where he is pronounced dead.
The riot is under control when he returns to the mess hall. He has to fill out a report then he makes a call.
“Yeah?”
Michael picks up on the second ring.
“It stopped raining” the officer says
“Oh, good.
Well I put the umbrella out for you anyway.”
“Thank you.”
“Good bye.”
After he hangs up he punches out, his shift is over, and goes to the diner for breakfast. When he is finished it is 1am, he goes to the train station about an hour from where he is now and picks up a suitcase stuffed into a locker. He has his money. He gets in his car, and drives to his house. It is now 3:30 am, he walks into his house, flips the switch for the lights, and BAM… the house explodes. Michael walks into the front door retrieves his suitcase and leaves.
The investigation into the officer will show that in the riot at the prison, he was responsible for the death of a gang member. This particular gang likes to take care of people who mess with their family by blowing them up. The officer was messing in something he shouldn’t have been.
**********
Charlie sits in the dark. She finally stopped bleeding. The dark and the dry blood are attracting bugs and a couple of rats that don’t want to leave her alone. She is freaking out; she can’t wipe her hands over her skin to erase the spine-chilling feeling that something is on her. She is barely able to move her legs when she hears a rat scurry over.
“HELP, Michael please. I promise I will be good just get me out of here. Please. I think there is a rat in here with me. HEY!! Don’t ignore me. Whistling man, are you still there?
Someone.
HELP!!!”
She is frantically yelling, making her already raw throat worse. She can’t stand the dark anymore.
No one is coming. I am going to die here.
Alone.
“Brody, Brody, Brody.” She is whispering his name over and over as she rocks herself and cries.