Raincoats | The Umbrella Academy

Library Liberties

When she walked back out of the butcher shop, she was hit with the metallic smell of blood and fresh meat. The man at the counter smiled and nodded at her as she passed.

Fully expecting to see the familiar dark haired little man child still waiting in the van, Charlotte blinked when she found the van empty. Five wasn't in the front seat or anywhere in the back.

She scanned the street, searching for any sign or her friend. What was she supposed to do if he just left? Did he not want her help?

Five hadn't left, though. He was a few cars down, sitting in the passenger seat, alone. Charlotte discreetly slipped into the back seat, to which Five relocked the door behind her. He was staring at the building that they were parked next to.

"He lives there."

"You can't just sit in his car. If he comes out and sees two kids in here, he's going to call the cops."

He smiled over his shoulder at her. "That's a problem you can fix."

In response, Charlotte rolled her eyes. "You looked like you were sick the last time I did that."

"It wasn't that bad. I spent over forty years in the apocalypse with no air conditioning. The chill was nice." It wasn't pleasant whatsoever, but she didn't need to know that. He spotted Lance coming out of the complex across the street. He was holding a medium sized terrier of some kind. "Now, do it now!"

They linked hands again and both of them disappeared from view. Five shivered, but shook it off and handed Charlotte a knife handle first. Oh. So they were threatening this guy. Charlotte could do that, she specialized in that.

The back door opened and the dog was promptly set in Charlotte's lap. Shit. Dogs and other animals always seemed to sense her presence. The dog looked up at her face and started barking as the door shut behind it.

Lance opened the driver's side door and fell into his seat with a huff. Five let go of her hand the moment the doctor sat.

"Oh, Jesus!" 

The dog was barking excitedly now, desperately trying to lick at Charlotte's face as she reappeared. In an instant, Five had drawn out his own knife and was pressing Lance against the door. The man looked around wildly, spotting the redhead sitting in the back.

"One chance," the teen spit out. His face was set in a hard sneer. "That's all you got. One chance to tell me exactly what's going on in that lab."

The dog settled for licking at Charlotte's arm by then. That kid's mood changed quicker than the weather in Florida. She remembered that she was supposed to be helping (she still didn't really know with what), and joined in, pressing the tip of her knife to the base of the man's neck.

Gulping, Lance tried to calm himself. "I- I manufacture prosthetic devices for fake patients. I bill the insurance companies and bill them for cash on the black market," he sputtered. 

"Including eyeballs?"

"Yeah," he blinked. "They're my biggest seller. I mean, they sell like hotcakes. I-I've got a list, a waiting list, probably 20 buyers."

Five stared angrily. "So the serial number I told you..."

"Uh, it could have already been bought," Lance supplied. He gulped again, glancing down at the knife pressed against his throat. "Yes, off- off the books."

The boy glowered. "I need that list, Lance. Names and numbers, and I need it now!"

Lance shook his head slightly, but stopped when he felt the tip of Charlotte's knife dig into his skin. "I don't have it. I mean, not on me. The only copy is in my safe at the lab."