The golf ball soared through the air, catching the light as it arced gracefully away from the fat man, disappearing into the distance.
‘Bally good shot Rupert old bean!’ enthused his companion, a wiry man sporting a handlebar moustache of ridiculous proportions.Rupert regarded the other man with a barely disguised look of contempt. Although there was little that Rupert enjoyed more than a midday game of golf at the taxpayers expense. Rupert certainly didn’t like having to share life’s luxuries with annoying bloody politicians. To make things worse, Rupert’s least favourite politician was the man stood before him now. The political leader of Rulton City Council - Gideon Height-Walker.
‘Thank-you Gideon. I have had four decades of public service to practice my golf swing. By the look of your game, you haven’t worked in the public sector long enough to have honed yours...’
Gideon’s mustache twitched like nervous rat. ‘Hmph, well that may be, but it is not quite as easy for one to forge a lifelong career as a councillor. This is why one must sometimes rely on the “fringe benefits” as it were. After all, we’re not really here to play golf are we?’
‘Are we not?’ replied Rupert sarcastically ‘What a shame. Perhaps we should get down to business then eh?’
Rupert scanned the golf field from left to right. He hadn’t got this far in life by being sloppy about personal security. The field was empty save for a besuited man standing a couple of hundred meters away looking in the opposite direction.
Gideon nervously twiddled with his moustache as he watched Rupert withdraw a cardboard tube from his golf bag.
‘This’ began Rupert ‘is a planning application for an incinerator...’
‘Ah, hmm, yes - I think I see where this is going. There shouldn’t be any particular problem in...’
‘I didn’t finish’ interrupted Rupert ‘our friends at the incinerator company want to build it in a particular location. It seems that the home for the elderly on Carr Street has become an inconvenience and would be best located elsewhere...’
As Rupert and Gideon talked, the besuited man began to move slowly across the field towards them, walking with a slight hobbling gait.
‘Well old boy’ continued Gideon ‘as I already mentioned there really shouldn’t be...’ Gideon paused, looking past Rupert at something in the distance. ‘I say, do you know that chap?’
Rupert turned, regarding the hobbling, besuited man as he drew closer to the two. ‘Hello?’ shouted Rupert ‘You there, what do you want man? Don’t know you know that this is a members only club?’
The besuited man ignored Rupert’s shouts, seemingly oblivious as he continued his inexorable progress towards them.
Rupert turned to Gideon, turned away again and forced the cardboard tube back into his golf bag. The two stood uneasily and waited for the man to make his shambling way across to them.
As the man drew closer it became apparent that he sported a most unhealthy grey pallor. Stick thin and with an otherworldly presence about him, Rupert couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t quite right with the newcomer. As he reached the two, the man opened his mouth and uttered a single word.
‘Brainzzzz.’
Gideon looked to Rupert, mouth opening and closing silently, secretly hoping for Rupert to tell him that this wasn’t really happening.
Rupert turned away from the grey man quickly, hoisting his golf bag over his shoulder, preparing to make an exit. The grey man reached out a stick thin arm and with a surprisingly strong grip, seized Rupert by the wrist.
This turn of events was too much for Gideon. As the thinner of the two he decided that his best hope would be to make a quick getaway. Looking to all the world like a strange bipedal daddy-long-legs he sprinted into the distance without so much as a backwards glance.
The strange man brought his head closer to Rupert. Rupert closed his eyes and felt his heart hammer against his ribcage.
‘Brains.’ repeated the man ‘You have demonstrated a remarkable lack of brains Mr Hill.’
Rupert winked one eye open and focused on the man’s face. He must be getting jumpy. For a minute there he thought that the man was... well, that’s just silliness, too much work, all this rubbish with Denton was making him paranoid.
‘And who the bloody hell are you?’ asked Rupert, who had now recovered enough to shrug the man’s hand away, regain some composure, and open his other eye.
The man answered without a hint of humour. ‘My name is Mr Grey. We spoke the other day. I believe I ordered you to instigate a zombie preparedness plan?’
If Rupert had been scared earlier, now he was positively shitting himself. A real life, bona-fide senior civil servant here at Rulton. In fact Rupert was so surprised that it didn’t occur to him how unlike his literary namesake Mr Grey appeared, which would have amused the missus if Rupert chose to tell her about it, which he wouldn’t...
‘Ah, it is an honour Mr Grey. How very kind of you to come all of the way to Rulton.’
‘Cut the bullshit Hill.’ replied Mr Grey ‘I’m not the kind of man who enjoys or appreciates small talk. I think we both know that you’d rather undergo a prostate examination than spend another five minutes talking to me’.
Rupert considered Mr Grey’s words, mentally agreeing while at the same time shaking his head vigorously and mouthing ‘no, no, no..’.
Mr Grey continued ‘I have one interest and one interest only. I want you to carry out my orders and instigate the plan as soon as possible. If you have any inclination not to do so, I think it only fair to tell you that Central Government has more than a passing acquaintance with your past - shall we say - misdemeanours.’
At this point Rupert blushed. Not the gentle blushing of a girl on her first date, but the deep purple blushing of a middle aged man who has indulged in too many cigars and foie gras.
‘I can absolutely assure you Mr Grey that I have my best man on the job and I will stop at nothing to ensure that Rulton City Council delivers exactly what you want.
Mr Grey attempted briefly to twist his mouth into an approximation of a smirk. ‘I expect nothing less Mr Hill. I also expect priority access to any and all persons involved in the project at any time I wish.’
‘Consider it done Mr Grey. Is there anything else I can do for you?’
‘Yes. Don’t mess this up. Your job, and quite possibly your life depends on it.’
With that the civil servant turned and hobbled off, disappearing into the treeline, leaving a confused and worried Rupert behind him.
----
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