[Original: Drabble] "Guard Duty" [G]
Title: Guard Duty
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 24, challenge 20 (red shirt-type character)
Word Count: 517
Rating: G
Fandom: original
Summary: Two Marines stand guard over… something.
Guard Duty
“Good morning, ma’am.”
Marine Staff Sergeant Smith nodded to her partner as she swiped her access card to start her shift. “Jones.”
Lance Corporal Jones hurried to keep up. “Another exciting day of guard duty, huh, ma’am.”
“Yep,” she replied.
She swiped her card again, waiting until Jones swiped his own a moment later, and the door to the warehouse slid open. They made small talk with Schmitt and Johnson as they relieved them and they left, and it was quiet again.
For a moment.
“You ever wonder what we’re guarding?” asked Jones.
“Nope,” said Smith. She looked over the log book the day shift, unsurprised by the same routine notes, record of regular patrols with no reported irregularities.
“It could be dangerous,” said Jones.
“Probably is,” Smith agreed.
“It could be toxic.”
“That, I severely doubt,” she said. “The big brass came for an inspection last month, walked right in there.”
There was silence for another moment, except for the sound of pages turning.
“Do you seriously not want to know what’s in there.”
Jones looked up from the book at the large wooden crate at the center of the large empty warehouse. “Nope.”
“Ugh,” said Smith, and flopped down into his chair at the large bare desk. “You’re no fun.”
“Now you’re learning,” she said.
“But aren’t you curious?”
Jones shrugged. She made her own opening log entry, then shut the book and sat in the other chair, getting out her own book - crosswords. “They don’t pay me to be curious, they pay me to guard this thing.”
“From who?” he demanded.
“That’s from whom. And don’t you have something you can read?”
“That’s all we do…” Smith grumbled, but pulled a battered paperback from one of the desk’s equally-battered drawers.
This time, the silence lasted over an hour - a personal best for Smith - before he said, “Do you think it’s a weapon?”
“Book is that exciting, huh?” said Jones.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“That’s all right, kid. How about you go find us some coffee, okay?”
Smith brightened. “Two creams, one sugar, right? I’ll be right back!”
She listened to his footsteps fade, then went back to her crossword. For a moment, there was actual silence.
Then, there was a faint ticking noise. Jones closed her book, listening. It came again, a little louder, then a little louder, and didn’t stop. She got up, one hand on the sidearm she’d never so much as touched before, and came around the desk.
The box was beeping, a soft light coming through the slats of the crate. The sound increased, in volume and frequency, and Jones reached behind her, slamming her palm down on the dust-covered alarm button. Sirens began to blare, but she only heard them for a moment before the box’s noise overwhelmed it.
The light began pulsing, the sound growing until Jones had to press both hands over her ears, her head throbbing.
She was glad she’d sent Smith away, Jones thought, as spots of darkness started creeping into the edges of her vision. Even if he was missing all the excitement…
THE END
Current Mood:
busy
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 24, challenge 20 (red shirt-type character)
Word Count: 517
Rating: G
Fandom: original
Summary: Two Marines stand guard over… something.
Guard Duty
“Good morning, ma’am.”
Marine Staff Sergeant Smith nodded to her partner as she swiped her access card to start her shift. “Jones.”
Lance Corporal Jones hurried to keep up. “Another exciting day of guard duty, huh, ma’am.”
“Yep,” she replied.
She swiped her card again, waiting until Jones swiped his own a moment later, and the door to the warehouse slid open. They made small talk with Schmitt and Johnson as they relieved them and they left, and it was quiet again.
For a moment.
“You ever wonder what we’re guarding?” asked Jones.
“Nope,” said Smith. She looked over the log book the day shift, unsurprised by the same routine notes, record of regular patrols with no reported irregularities.
“It could be dangerous,” said Jones.
“Probably is,” Smith agreed.
“It could be toxic.”
“That, I severely doubt,” she said. “The big brass came for an inspection last month, walked right in there.”
There was silence for another moment, except for the sound of pages turning.
“Do you seriously not want to know what’s in there.”
Jones looked up from the book at the large wooden crate at the center of the large empty warehouse. “Nope.”
“Ugh,” said Smith, and flopped down into his chair at the large bare desk. “You’re no fun.”
“Now you’re learning,” she said.
“But aren’t you curious?”
Jones shrugged. She made her own opening log entry, then shut the book and sat in the other chair, getting out her own book - crosswords. “They don’t pay me to be curious, they pay me to guard this thing.”
“From who?” he demanded.
“That’s from whom. And don’t you have something you can read?”
“That’s all we do…” Smith grumbled, but pulled a battered paperback from one of the desk’s equally-battered drawers.
This time, the silence lasted over an hour - a personal best for Smith - before he said, “Do you think it’s a weapon?”
“Book is that exciting, huh?” said Jones.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“That’s all right, kid. How about you go find us some coffee, okay?”
Smith brightened. “Two creams, one sugar, right? I’ll be right back!”
She listened to his footsteps fade, then went back to her crossword. For a moment, there was actual silence.
Then, there was a faint ticking noise. Jones closed her book, listening. It came again, a little louder, then a little louder, and didn’t stop. She got up, one hand on the sidearm she’d never so much as touched before, and came around the desk.
The box was beeping, a soft light coming through the slats of the crate. The sound increased, in volume and frequency, and Jones reached behind her, slamming her palm down on the dust-covered alarm button. Sirens began to blare, but she only heard them for a moment before the box’s noise overwhelmed it.
The light began pulsing, the sound growing until Jones had to press both hands over her ears, her head throbbing.
She was glad she’d sent Smith away, Jones thought, as spots of darkness started creeping into the edges of her vision. Even if he was missing all the excitement…
THE END
Current Mood:
busy