CLARK sits atop a roan stallion, his rifle sitting crosswise just behind the saddlehorn and his eyes clearly peeled for trouble. The stallion, ROCKEFELLER, gazes absently over the pasture, the master of all he surveys.
CLARK
Not even a coyote. These security
patrols are probably a waste of time.
ROCKEFELLER tosses his head impatiently. CLARK clicks his teeth and presses his legs into the horse’s flanks, easing him into a trot running parallel to the edge of the woods.
CLARK
Still, hate to get caught with my pants
down with a house full of ComGuard when
the Word of Blake shows up. Those guys
better have covered their trail as well as
they think they have.
ROCKEFELLER
Neigh!
CLARK
Yeah, you’ve probably seen them about.
Came in just a week ago...guess their
little Case White didn’t go as well as they
were hoping. Sure glad I risked life and limb
to get them that intelligence.
CLARK pauses to scan the edge of the woods. ROCKEFELLER lowers his head and begins absently munching on the grass. After a few moments, CLARK tightens his hand on the reins, bringing the horse’s head up again with only a token snort of protest. They resume their trot.
CLARK
Their commander, Alex, seems okay.
Recent experiences with that name
notwithstanding, I guess. He took a serious
head wound, minor concussion. No vomiting,
pupils were still identical, so I think he’ll
recover okay. Hopefully, the bonk to the noggin
won’t interfere with his planning.
ROCKEFELLER whickers. CLARK smirks.
CLARK
Listen to me, “bonk on the noggin.” I
sound like my father. I swear, shoot me
if I ever get that bad.
ROCKEFELLER continues trotting, and CLARK shrugs.
CLARK
Anyway, Rocky, the other two I’m not so sure
about. That David guy is a suspicious type. I
don’t just mean he makes me suspicious, I mean
HE seems suspicious of everything. Maybe it
keeps you alive in...whatever business he’s in.
Flying helicopters, I guess. But at least he
seems to know what he’s doing.
CLARK pulls up on the reins, causing ROCKEFELLER to slow to a halt once more. He slides his pocket noteputer out of his button-down shirt and taps the touch screen a few times with his stylus.
CLARK
Well, none of the perimeter posts have
sent me any alerts. Let’s swing over by the
oak grove - might be a few acorns.
ROCKEFELLER
Neigh!
ROCKEFELLER breaks into a canter with a subtle cue from CLARK, and the pair makes its way towards a stand of gnarled old oak trees.
CLARK
Shin, the last guy, is a real head case.
I’d almost think he was a Word of Blake
spy if he wasn’t so obvious. I think the only
thing he loves more than Jerome Blake
is ranting about, uh, “apostates.”
ROCKEFELLER rolls an eye.
CLARK
Couldn’t have said it better myself.
ROCKEFELLER looses a nervous whinny, and suddenly shies. The horse dances several steps to the left, CLARK looking concerned.
CLARK
Whoa there, Rocky! What’s all this?
A sinuous movement through the grass catches CLARK’s eye. He fumbles with the rifle for a second before squinting and looking down more carefully at the disturbance. He lets out a brief laugh.
CLARK
Just a milk snake, Rocky. No danger
to you unless you’re a meadow vole.
CLARK calms the horse in fairly short order and continues his patrol. Upon reaching the oak grove, CLARK dismounts and hitches ROCKEFELLER to a tree. The horse immediately begins searching for acorns as CLARK unslings his rifle and walks the area on foot, talking as he goes.
CLARK
Who knows what we’re gonna do next?
Harboring fugitives and all that, I think
we’re in too deep to back out now, Simon
and me. Not sure I’d want to in any case.
Maybe Case White was a bust, but as long
as they’re here, no reason we shouldn’t help
the real ComStar against these Word of Blake
crazies, right?
CLARK looks expectantly back at ROCKEFELLER, who ignores him.
CLARK
I know you can’t really understand me.
Pretending you can just helps me
order my thoughts.
ROCKEFELLER
Snort, neigh!
CLARK
I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just
pretend to hear that. Anyway, it looks
like we have some leads to follow up on.
Infiltrating TerraSec should give us the
best info on the Word of Blake’s positions
around here, so I guess that’s what
we’re gonna do. Simon really has their
number - I don’t know how he got all
those detailed blueprints and shift schedules,
but he’s a real whiz.
ROCKEFELLER looks back at CLARK, crunching a mouthful of acorns.
CLARK
You go easy on those, boy. Don’t need
you getting all fat on me. Anyway, I’ll
help out however I can, as long as the plan
they come up with isn’t too crazy. But
they’re ComGuard, this is their job. I’m
sure it’ll all work out. Right?
ROCKEFELLER just stares. CLARK sighs and shakes his head.
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