enig·ma noun \i-ˈnig-mə, e-\
1: an obscure speech or writing
2: something hard to understand or explain
3: an inscrutable or mysterious person
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You know what time it is?
Come along and sing the song!
Well our heroic siblings have been rescued, so we can all take a deep breath and relax…
Emma and Allen’s uneventful ride in the helicopter should have been relaxing, but with McMuscles sitting across from them, opening walnuts in his fists (Somehow, he managed to keep the brain shaped nuts intact) they shared an uneasy feeling.
“Where are we going?” Emma asked, after deciding Allen wasn’t going to.
He paused. “Empire Media Headquarters, ETA 10 minutes.”
Allen then spoke up impatiently. “What, are you collecting survivor stories?”
“We brought your father in this morning. Mr. Connar wants you all together.” Crack. End of conversation.
Despite Richard Connar’s public presence (and self- financed documentary), Emma and the general public still saw him as an enigma. Having watched ENN, she doubted his intentions were for some tearjerker reunion footage. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
* * *
They landed on the rooftop helipad as scheduled and were unceremoniously led to a penthouse conference room. Emma noticed the wall sized screen as they entered, broadcasting the neighborhood where they had been only a short time before. Bodies, both human and bunny, were scattered around the area, with gratuitous closeups of the grenade impact zone.
“Yes that’s the aftermath,” Connar announced with no introduction. “We shot your escape, and got another chopper out there making a little extra news for us.”
“Where’s our father?” Allen asked looking around suspiciously. Connar gestured impatiently.
“He’s doing his part, reassuring the public that KillEmAll will end this crisis.” He reached in his pocket and presented a thumb drive. “This information we rescued with him contains data on the project you and your colleagues worked on, Ms Appleby- the one that created the outbreak. Your father’s appeal to save you was more than paternal, thankfully.”
“We’re securing a government-grade laboratory for your use, and will monitor and even broadcast, your progress. Refusal is not an option. Oh and Allen,” he turned and nodded to McMuscles, who unholstered a very large handgun, “Push aside those thoughts of attacking me. We’re only looking for one type of hero right now.”