Retardant

Joe had never felt so lonely in his life. With the four clones gone, he had no way of knowing how long they would be or even whether they would be successful. His knee was still throbbing from climbing the stairs and he had a pounding headache. He was hungry and thirsty and not a little frightened. At least, he thought, Kim was safe, back at the car, although she must be worrying too. What a mess.

* * *

Kim was indeed growing anxious. It was all very well for Emma to state the obvious, that they had to wait, but it was not a condition she was comfortable with. She glanced at her watch for the dozenth time. One o’clock. Where were they? What was happening? Emma and Delphine sat in the back of the car, silent and still, staring straight ahead.

* * *

Jean-Claude was frantic. He had been dragged away by three burly men and locked in some sort of cleaners’ closet. It was dark in there, and whenever he moved he dislodged something, buckets or mops or piles of damp cloths. The smell in the space was eye-wateringly unpleasant, a mixture of something like bleach, paint thinner and stale wine. He wondered if it was some sort of fire retardant or pest control chemical, before concluding it must be the used cleaning cloths which had soaked up all manner of mucky stuff and been left to ferment in the unventilated cupboard. His captors had said nothing to him and his cries for help and poundings on the door brought no response.