Rustles

Part 2

“May I have the water?” she reached out and he reached it to her. She opened the bottle and breathed in half of it.

“How should I call you?” he asked again.

“Margaret will do.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Going home, I live nearby.”

“Where?”

“Look, it’s appreciated that you’d like to know every little detail of my life now, but I would like to keep some secrets too.” She pulled the jacket closer to her skin. It wasn’t cold, but she couldn’t brush off the chill from the damp surroundings. “What are they?” she asked instead. “Those things. Man can’t crawl through splinters like that. We ruin our nails when opening letters! And we can’t breathe there either, yet she called it her friend?”

“He is my friend.” His tone changed.

“And you shot him.” Her voice faded. “I’m sorry.”

His shoulders slum and he shrugged. “So am I.”

They sat there for a moment in silence, before she decided it had been enough.

“I have good hearing.” She began instead of waiting for another question. “I liked guessing sounds in my childhood.”

“I find it hard to believe that’s all how you can hear them.”

“Sounds vibrate, you know?” she tried to explain, but felt like running against the wall. How would they understand if they couldn’t sense them? “Like if you hold pot in your hand and hit it with a spoon, it resonates both sound and the vibration of the earth. Like sonar.”

“We have sonars, but they could only give us area, not exact position!”

“Yeah, well, can’t help you there.” She felt another movement under her feet and pulled them up, waiting until the rustle settled and put them back down.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I think you can.”

“No. I will not get myself involved in this. It’s dangerous and unrealistic – no!”

“I’m not playing on your loyalty to your country.” He began, but she intervened quietly.

“You’re not worth that much.”

“What?”

Her eyes swooped up to his suddenly rigid face. “No country is worth their soldiers. Philosophy.”

“I’m not talking about philosophy here!”

“You just picked me up from my way home, threaten me with some Bond-movie trick and want me to help you? Forget it!”

“Alright,” he rose up and towering over her, pulled her on her feet, “I’ll call you taxi.”

“No need, I’m sure I can find a bus.” She reached after her purse. Like lassoing for some cow in his cattle for meat.

“No, you’ll get a taxi.” He held her from her elbow and forced her to go with him.

On their way out they passed the front room and she saw others still talking, standing there with their coffees.

“Where you taking her?” Twin shouted from the back of the room.

“The lady asked to be taken home.”

“She still has a mouth, serge!”

He didn’t respond to that, but opened the front door while digging mobile out from his pocket to call the car. She doubted he’d actually call a taxi, but as long as they got her something to get her home she was fine with it.

“Ellinger street 38, please!” he closed the phone and stood there, door open and leaned against the frame.

The cool air worked miracles and she felt alive again.

“I’ll give you one week,” he said, observing her eyes clearing up. “If those things get out, I need you to catch them, you’re better than any of those machines we’ve tried. I will need you in our team, you like it or not. I won’t risk them on loose on town.”

Just as he said loose in town she sensed the freezing fear rolling over her while very quickly passing vibes ran past them under the stairs. It caught her breath and sent chills through her body.

Seeing her reaction gave him goose pumps.

“You can jinx entire army if given a chance, can’t you?”

“Silver, Will! Get your guns! We have new hunt! Seems they have tunnel under front door!” he yelled in the house and ran back to get his things while she stood on the open door and watched in growing panic how her entire life had turned from being a waitress into wild goose chase of some monsters she didn’t even have name for.