A Call to Arms

052711

  The Circle was, for once, at a loss. Ria leans back in her chair, the furious clatter of keys from minutes ago already long forgotten. The glare of the monitor, however, was not so easy to shake, its perfect square of light burned into her retinas, following her in the black of the room despite the darkened display. She closes her eyes briefly, hoping to alleviate herself from the stress of the situation, when all of a sudden her phone rings, startling her from her silence with its angry buzz. She picks it up quickly, the display reads Brody.

  “You found anything?” he asks as soon as she picks up, before she’s even had a chance to speak. His voice is panicked, more panicked than it should be. He  was en route to the cache at the office when they’d parted ways, hardly a dangerous trip.

  “Everything okay, Brody?” Ria replies, the fear in his voice threading hers already.

  “Did you find anything, Ria?” he asks again, more insistent. There’s a strange delay between his responses, a distraction.

  “Are you back at the house?” Ria asks, her voice shrilly with her sudden realization.

  “God-damnit Ria I’m not going to ask you again-”

  “No!” she shouts down the line, “No you idiot I didn’t find anything what the hell are you doing back there?”

  “Get your ass over here now,” he growls as something discernibly ceramic smashes in the background.

  “Okay, okay,” Ria says, jumping to her feet and grabbing a various assortment of firearms from her surroundings, stashed away, used as ornaments, all fully functional, fully loaded, fully useless until they really knew what they were fighting but better than a kick in the teeth regardless, “I’m on my way.”

*  *  *

  “Good,” Eleanor says in her wholly accurate impersonation of Brody, the line already dead, “see you real soon, sweetheart.”

  The house trembles in anticipation.

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~ by Joseph Blame on May 27, 2011.

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