Eye in the Sky

At the end of the passage, through the door Becky finds herself in a small room with no windows and no other doors and it is here that she finally lets herself rest and breathe. Her heart is pounding against her chest as she wonders just how closer she was to danger. Okay yes, that man had the best body of any man she’d ever seen in real life and he was handsome as an old black and white movie star but there are some things you just can’t overlook. Red flags like no belly button and a sixth sense when a virgin is near. And who the hell was Master?

But her body betrays her true feelings, and she knows, despite her panic that she’s a little aroused. The heat that flows through her veins is from more than just adrenaline. But she buries the feeling down; now isn’t the time to get horny. There was something else she had to do…something important…what was it…she had to find a man…

Roger. Yes. Her Husband. The memory darts back into her head with the speed of a bullet. She could slap herself for momentarily forgetting about her partner, but she consoles herself that she’s under a lot of stress. Yet, even when she tries to focus on him in her mind, the picture seems fuzzy and out of focus.

There’d be time enough to deal with her wandering mind later. For now, she takes a look around the room she’s in. It’s small, no bigger than a prison cell, with a cot along one wall and a plastic desk of very old computers and radios. In the middle of the room is another desk, this one wooden, but there’s nothing on it except a pen and some paper. Beside it, in a trashcan, are ashes, and the burnt remains of someone’s notes. Directly opposite her, on the wall are metal bars, rungs of a built in ladder, ascending up through a hole in the ceiling and what appears to be the only way out.

Turning her attention to the computers and the radio, she thinks that maybe she can contact someone from outside. Though what she would possibly say, that they voluntarily came to a house and found some other people living there, people who had been nothing but kind and helpful, even if they were a little strange? No one will believe her. No crime has been committed, yet. But, as she approaches the desk, and the dozen screens, she realizes that they aren’t just computers but security footage of the mansion.

Most of the screens are blacked out and no matter what knobs she fiddles or switches she flicks, she can’t get a picture. The two that do work are all that matter though. On one, the camera is pointed at a large steel door bearing in words ‘BASEMENT’ and ‘KEEP OUT’. On another screen, she sees her husband walking through the kitchen. Annoyingly he doesn’t look too upset that his wife is missing. Oh sure, she can tell he’s looking for her, the way his head turns this way and that, and she can read his lips that he’s calling her name, even if there’s no sound. But it’s a little irritating that her absence doesn’t invoke a stronger reaction from her so called spouse.

At least, he’s safe, she tells herself, and that she knows where to go now. Looking around for any final clues before she leaves, she notices an ashtray beside the monitors, and the remnants of a cigarette, still giving off wisps of smoke. Someone has been here recently.