Bitemarks 2.4

Bitemarks 2.4

Ed left the base and jogged back to his car. He was still fuming inside and felt the jog take the edge off it slightly. He didn't fancy going home and remembered the gym at his dad's place. He had the key. Well, it was his place now. He might as well make the most of this downtime. If he was honest with himself he knew his anger was becoming a distraction. He reached the car, slipped behind the wheel and headed off to his dad's house. Maybe it was time he should start thinking about moving in there. His place had the soundproof room but his dad's place was far more isolated. He could sell that pokey little house with its defaced windows, not that he needed the money.

The drive was empty when he pulled into his dad's place. His place. Valentina still came once a week to keep it clean but Ed didn't need the kind of round the clock care his father had. He parked and locked the car and made his way inside. Locks were fine but if he was going to move his equipment here he'd probably install an alarm system. He'd seen one advertised in a magazine last week that used satellite technology to link the alarm system to a wristwatch so the owner would be alerted if the alarm triggered. Very high tech. He decided to check the manufacturer's website later. First he had more important things on his mind. He went down to the gym and flicked its lights on. His dad hadn't used it much in his later years but Ed had used it before. Among other equipment there was a punchbag leaning against one corner. Ed lifted it up and hung it on its hook. He took off his jacket, slinging it to one side then let loose a punch at the bag. Something was missing. He needed some focus. It was too quiet. He headed up to his dad's room and looked around for a laptop. It was on the desk near his dad's bed. It wasn't exactly top of the range but it would suit his needs. He took it back down to the gym and switched it on, opening a web browser and navigating to his online storage folder. He kept a few things on there, including a few albums for ease of access. He scrolled through 'til he found something that suited his mood, Drowning Pool's album "Sinner". He set the album playing on shuffle and moved back to face the punchbag. He felt the guitars kick in, let their distorted wailing and churning fire through his body, felt the high notes scream up and down his spine and listened to the singer's voice, full of anger, resentment and animosity. He pulled back a fist and slammed it into the bag again. Better. He shifted position and let a volley of punches leave him, feeling the impact of his knuckles slamming into the bag as it fought against him.

Ed was worn out by the time the fourth song ended. His arms and hands ached from the exertion and impact and sweat coated his upper torso, drenching his t shirt. It covered his brow too, his hair clinging to it. He brushed it from his eyes with his forearm as the band's singer mournfully lamented the folly of narcissism.
"Do I really want this
Sometimes I scare myself I just can't let it go
Can you believe it
Everything happens for reasons I just don't know
I don't care about anyone else but me
I don't care about anyone
I don't care about anyone else but me
I don't care about anyone or anything but me "
That final chorus haunted Ed and he closed the media player and switched the laptop off. He sighed deeply. It wasn't just about his own feelings, he saw that now. He had to see the bigger picture. Whoever let Beauclair survive the cull was no different than Ed choosing to let Grace live. Beauclair hadn't interfered with the status quo any more than she had. The Mother would have been dug up eventually one way or another, with or without Beauclair. At least this way they had the advantage of his expertise and knowledge. And people, although they didn't know it, were relying on him to save them. He wasn't responsible for letting Beauclair live, but he knew now he was responsible for making sure The Mother died.


(Lyrics from Tear Away by Drowning Pool, copyright of respective owners.)