Part Fourteen
Cattrell’s lead foot pushed the sedan through a fall of branches blocking the on-ramp of Highway 280.
He looked at his watch, realizing that it was only 24 hours ago that he stepped foot into Cassandra’s house. The dangers of freeway driving prevented him for years from traveling the 280, and he did not know what atrocities lay ahead.
Burned-out husks of vehicles littered various lanes intermittently, but never at once. The path was winding at first, until he reached Highway 1, which opened up into surface streets. A few hospitals had opened in the area, mainly for the wealthy, and he had read that they had paid to have much of the debris removed from Daly City to Highway 1 for their ambulances to access. The poorer areas to the east and south were disregarded.
Cattrell passed the burnt husk of San Francisco State University and made his way to The Sunset. He parked in Cassandra’s driveway and stepped out. The chase was over.
Cassandra opened the door, surprised. Cattrell stepped in, uninvited.
“I didn’t expect you so soon--”
“Which is why I came.” She was less polished today, and her hair was tied back, away from her face. He peered over at the sand and pendulum and was a bit disturbed to see the shape of a dagger staring at him from the sand.
Cassandra sat on the sofa. “Why did you come, if I may ask?”
Cattrell studied her face. She wasn’t worried. Her face did not betray any emotion. “You lied to me,” was his reply.
Cassandra reached within the seat cushion of her sofa and retrieved a snub-nosed revolver. She pointed it at him.
“There’s no need for the gun,” Cattrell said, as he parted the sides of his trench coat. In his hand, pointed at her, was a silver Ruger .45 that shone in the dim light of a Tiffany lamp. “Besides. You’re sitting and I’m standing near a doorway. Disadvantages.”
Cassandra let go of the revolver, and it clattered against the hardwood floor. He kicked it under the sofa.
“Now. Stand up, and walk me through your house.” He pushed her with the nose of the gun.
Cassandra cocked her head, trying to keep him in sight.
She gazed at him, her eyes still carrying that beguiling innocence. “Okay. Alright.”
Read from the beginning:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen
To be continued (installments 15 through 18 of this story are coming soon.)
"The Girl and the Pendulum" is an 18-part future-noir science fiction story about a a private investigator's search for a missing android. How can a man who searches for missing women find lost artificial intelligence? I welcome feedback on this story about a man and his difficult case in a post-war, post collapse world. Stay tuned, as I also will begin publishing my 300,000 word epic novel "The Messiah" on Steemit in 2017.
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