Day 239 – The Passenger – Part 11

Word count: 566

They were back in the police station. Kate’s mind had drifted during the questioning. Her husband was holding on tightly to her hand whilst Walker and Fitch stood outside the interview room speaking with their superior. Kate was exhausted. It had been a long couple of days. Her eyes were closing on her, but she fought with every bit of strength left in her to stay awake. She couldn’t burn out now, not after all that she had been through.

“It’s alright honey, we’ll be out of here in no time. We’ll sue their asses all the way to hell.”

“What, along the yellow brick road?” Kate retorted but grew even more frustrated when he failed to get the reference. “You know what, Phil, I’d really like some coffee…”

“But you know the stuff from the machine is carcinogenic?”

“Phil,” she patted him on the knee, “I don’t really give a shit right now.”

Phil looked flustered and left the room. Kate didn’t know where the coffee machine was, but she sure as hell wished it was far away. Phil had been nothing but suffocating the entire night. It was a relief to just sit in a room with only silence for company, though she knew it wouldn’t last. Walker had already spotted that she was alone and would almost certainly snatch the opportunity.

Kate did not worry for that right now though. Instead she smiled to herself as she thought about what had happened after the pizza….

Back in the restaurant, the shitty diner with cockroach canapés and mouldy main courses. Nick bought her a whisky and they drank to the adventure. Quite what was happening to her, she did not understand at the time. Go along with it, she had told herself: go along with it and he’ll let you go sooner…

They both stumbled out of the diner pretty drunk, falling into each other at the same time as trying to keep each other upright. They staggered back to the car and fell into the seats. It was cold in there, she could see her breath in the air. They sat and stared out the window for a few moments, not laughing, not saying a word. It was dark now. Cars sped by, headlamps ploughing through the black: Kate was hypnotised by it.

“Well we can’t drive,” Nick said, head falling back sleepily against the head rest.

“No, no, huh?”

“Let’s just sleep. We’ll drive in the morning.”

“Alright then.”

Kate remembered watching a particularly long lorry drive past as she closed her eyes; the calm rushing sound of the Doppler effect soothed her into slumber. In retrospect, she should probably have realised at that point. It really was her own fault.

In the interview room she shook her head at her own ignorance, her own naivety as an odd memory of a coke-resembling whisky was being poured into his glass. Though looking back now, she could laugh; it was not quite so funny at the time when she had woken up in Washington D.C.

“What are you laughing at?” Walked and Fitch had returned to the room.

Kate was yanked back to reality by their cold stares. Had she been smiling, laughing? Probably. It was pretty funny waking up in the White House.

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~ by S.G. Mark on June 2, 2012.

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