Episode 002: “We’re Running Out of Time For a Happy Ending” | @oblame
“If you’re reading this, I’ve been compromised.”
Sprawled over the wooden floorboards was an assortment of weapons ranging from the cacophony of guns spilling out of a black luggage bag to a seemingly endless collection of throwing knives, several half-rolled blueprints, open folders packed with reports and information on the Sector for Humanity, and most importantly: Dot.
“Trainwreck: you know where all my hiding places are. Grab whatever you need to keep yourself occupied until I get back."
The mountain of crumpled Kleenex, stained beige and black from make-up, rapidly grew in height as she sobbed. She laid on her stomach, cheek pressed against wooden flooring she’d just finessed schematics out of. This was his stupid home. This was his stupid home with enough evidence against him for the police to have a field day with. This was his stupid home with the stolen paintings and the really, really shitty painting he tried to make himself last time he was on an art kick. And there was cartons of Hood Milk in the fridge and a red recording light on the DVR for a show he’d wanted to see and a heaping pile of laundry he never finished doing. And the more that Dot gazed around the apartment, the harder she cried.
“You’ll know you’ve found everything when it looks like a potpourri of crime.”
Long, black tresses of hair coiled around the sides of her face, slicked to her skin by her own tears. She couldn’t stop re-reading the note over and over again. She couldn’t stop re-reading Gilbert’s note.
“Catch you on the flip side. - Gil”
Dot took a quivering breath and lifted her head. “That’s all he wrote,” she squeaked. “What if this was the last note he’d ever leave me? Wouldn’t he want to say something more heartfelt?” But in her heart, she had a feeling that reading something mushy from Gilbert of all people would feel too final. “He’s such a jerk,” she said. “What are we going to do, Jude? In his notebooks he says their security systems are impossible to crack, even for him. What if they’re hurting him?”
She flipped the note over, as though she hoped more words would magically appear. “He acts like he doesn’t care,” said Dot. “You know, being sarcastic and saying stupid stuff all the time. And maybe you don’t know this yet, but he’s just a big softie deep down. And he’s all I have.”
