Turning the Screws.......

I've been stalling. I opened the e-mail from "James" back on the 30th and haven't done anything with the information. The People Upstairs provided me with a lot of personal and biographical information on Dr. Forrest, but I couldn't see how I could use it. Knowing what schools she'd gone to, and where she'd interned, did her residency, etc., doesn't help me at all. Giving me her address was nice, but I didn't know where the town was - probably the far side of the state in an area where my beater would stick out like a sore thumb.

I already know where she works.

In the back of my mind, I knew I should be doing something, but 3 Events in 6 months means 2 months for each, so I haven't been in a rush. I admit, I got involved in some family stuff - which has nothing to do with any of this - and I let things slide. Until now....

Doyle called.

We met this morning at the Woodbridge Memorial Park, alternating marble slabs and benches in a semi-circular area outside of the Public Health Center between the Main Library and the High School. As I walked across the grass I could see him on one of the benches, his back to me.

"No car?" He asked, as I came up to him.
"No. I decided to walk. It's not too hot and I could use the exercise. No Givings?"
"Nah. She's in charge of the Watchers for a week or so."
"Watchers?"
"The people who keep tabs on you, among other things. We told you about them. They follow your signal, though not too closely that they're obvious and sweep in to clean up after you, if necessary. That's how I knew about the car, and the walking."
"OK. Yeah. You did tell me about them. Good for Givings. Gives her something to do."
"You're not kidding, since you haven't been so busy lately." I nodded. Taking the jab. I deserved it.
I had nothing to say, so I just shrugged.
"You know, you're supposed to report in. E-mails to "James", Remember?"
"Yeah." I sat down next to him. "I remember, but I thought it was once a month."
"It is, officially, but unofficially you should report every two weeks. The People Upstairs are a little antsy about this whole program, and they're not too happy that you haven't done anything yet."
"I read the material they sent, but I can't see how it helps me. It's not easy with a real target. It's much easier picking targets at random."
"They know that. I told you they were happy with you results in Phase 1. But nothings happened yet, and the clock is ticking. If you fall behind now, it could be harder later on. They thought a target like Dr. Forrest - someone you knew - would make it easier. Especially knowing that she wasn't as professional with you as she could've been."
"What? How do you know that?"
"We have our ways, you should know that. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is that you get off your butt and do something."
"Is that why you're here? To remind me?"
"Partly. Mostly to let you know that the People Upstairs - unhappy with how things are going - have decided to tighten things up. Make it easier for you."
"How?"
"They've decided to make a decision for you." He took a slip of paper from his inside, jacket pocket and handed it to me. "This is what they want you to do, now. Good Luck."

He stood up and walked away. This was getting to be a routine I didn't like.

The slip of paper said...

DO IT AT THE HOSPITAL.