28 December, 2012

An Experiment in Flash Fiction: Part 2

This part of the experiment was inspired by my Uncle's comment, wanting something to do with zombies, and a prompt from +Writ's new community page.

If you haven't yet, make sure you read Part 1, otherwise things won't make sense.

Enjoy and have a Happy New Year!

     Jeff kept looking at his smartphone while the helicopter flew over the bay. He was looking forward to this assignment, the first in his freelance career. The ad called for combat experience, something Jeff knew thanks to his countless years of martial arts. Now the waiting game, Jeff was briefed on the assignment countless times.

    “So we’re going onto this ship…thing,” He said. “And investigating what again?”

    Simon sighed, “The reports from the rescue crews. I thought you had experience in Resident Evil and zombie films. Viruses, mutations, that sort of thing?”

    Sophie nudged his shoulder, “He looks more Deep Fear than Walking Dead if you ask me. Guts, yes. Brains, not so much.”

    Jeff sighed and swore under his breath. He put the smartphone back in his pocket and looked straight at Simon, grinning.

    “Good! Now I’ll go over this again,” He said.

    It was a pretty straightforward assignment; go investigate a naval ship where reports indicated some members of the crew mutated into something else. This was what Simon called Operation Typical Day. Jeff rested his head on his own fingers during the umpteenth explanation.

    “So what’s your job in all this, Sir?” He asked.

    “Recording and writing down the whole thing,” Simon replied. “My friend here will be taking pictures and provide you with backup.”

    Jeff started laughing uncontrollably. All those tournaments, the street brawls, the studies under a highly respected teacher. All for this assignment.

    “So I’m pretty much your bodyguard,” He said. “While you and her investigate some dead, messed up bodies that could kill you at any time. The government must be desperate if they’re hiring journos for the military.”

    Sophie quickly took out her laser pistol and aimed it at his head. Simon pressed his feet down on top of Jeff’s, only softly.

    “So it’s a fraud then?” Simon asked.

    “What is?” Jeff replied.

“The resume you sent us.” He leaned in closer to Jeff. “Claimed that you were highly literate, a well to-do member of some mafia skilled in various martial arts, and a banker’s best friend. An air of a dreamer, I think.”

    Jeff stammered, “It’s real, Sir.”

“Then why…did you say that I’m from the government?”

“B-because you are.”

    Sophie sighed, “Then it’s all mad fake! Should I fry him?”

    “Not yet,” Simon replied.

    He took out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and unfolded it. He passed it towards Jeff who recognized it as the flyer that started all this.

    “The hell’s this for?” He asked.

    “Simple question,” Simon replied, pointing down at the small text. “How is Neath a part of the government?”

    “Screw this one up and zap goes your life,” Sophie replied.

    Jeff grunted, “I don’t freakin’ know!”

    Simon grinned, “Then think on it. There’s plenty of time before we land.”

    Jeff sighed, this first day on the job receded back into the interview. Now the job and his life were on the line.

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