“Obviousment, il ne parle pas Anglais. Stupide.” (an excript from my nano, which I am now editing)
“Voulez-vous Pret?” He asked us, referring to the store Pret A Manger. We’d eaten lunch from there, but I was still up for more. I translated for Darlene and Rob.
“He’s going for food, he’s going to get sandwiches and stuff from Pret A Manger. It’s good. Want some?” I asked them, and Darlene immediately started digging in her pocket.
“If he’s back with it when we come down with the Avian, I don’t see a problem with having a bite… We haven’t had lunch.” She pulled out a twenty-euro bill. She handed it to Matt, who tried to give it back, but then she said in a scary voice, “Lunch is on the Watchers.” And refused to take the money back. I requested something vegetarian, or vegan if possible, Rob asked for chicken, and Darlene said she’d take anything except fish. Matt shrugged and loped off to get our food.
“Nice b-boyfriend you’ve got there.” Rob said, and both Darlene and I fake-punched him on the shoulder. “Sorry!” He said. Then we all turned to look at the ominous building we had to enter. Five stories of sketchy… sketchiness. I opened the door again and pulled out my gun. I remembered I only had two bullets in the Kel-Tec, and I’d left the Glock in the bathroom. The extra bullets were still on the roof from when I’d taken the case off my belt. Shit! I was always doing stupid things like leaving my stuff everywhere.
“Hey, either of you guys got extra bullets for a concealable? There’s only two in here…” Rob nodded, and headed to their car. There was a packet of extra bullets in his hand when he returned. I thanked him, and stuck it in my back pocket. Once we were all into the building on the sketchy first floor, Darlene and Rob drew their guns, too.
We went to the staircase on the far side of the room. Darlene took the leader position, I followed her, and Rob picked up the tail. This is how we made our way up the stairs, completely ignoring the second, third, and fourth floors. Normally, there would be stairs continuing from the fifth floor to the roof, but the stairs just stopped on the fifth. Darlene looked back at me and I shrugged, in a “I’ll just follow you” sort of way. She led on. The fifth floor was a lot like the first: one huge open room, the only difference being that this one was a lot more gross. There was a huge open hole in the ceiling, with pink fiberglass, shreds of wood, and those icky ceiling tiles hanging out around it. Rob picked a piece of wood off the floor, a wooden rod half an inch in diameter and four feet long. I still wonder why there was a wooden rod there. It seemed that it would be much more in place in a carpenter shop. He used the rod to poke at the edges of the hole: A few pieces of fiberglass fell onto his head.