“The fuck is your problem?”

Joshua, climbing into the driver’s seat of the white 2008 Nissan Altima, shoots a quizzical glance over to Arryn; who was struggling with the seatbelt. Hearing what he asked, yet not caring enough to give an answer, she sneers his way before clipping the belt into place and making herself comfortable in her seat. He pulls the driver’s side door shut and jams the key into the ignition, and once the car comes to life, he pulls out of his parking space and takes off, out of the lot. Being on the side facing the building on the way out, Arryn turns her head to look away from the driver, only to engage in some unexpected prolonged eye contact with a suspicious McDonald’s employee. Dressed in the corporate logo brandished costume, the employee reaches into his pocket for his cell phone. Unsure as to what he was planning on doing, Arryn clutches tightly onto the knife hidden by her palm and places it against her chest. With a deep breath, and without breaking eye contact, she mutters under her breath to the only person in the car with her:

“There’s someone watching us.”

“What?”

“Did I fucking stutter? No, I said there’s someone watching us.”

“Who?”

“Some employee who probably wants to play hero. We could pull over right now and I could go in there and tell him just how bad of an idea it would be if he were to try anything. It isn’t like we’re expected anywhere anytime soon.”

“Calm yourself. We don’t even know what he’s doing; he won’t call the cops. Why would he?”

“Right, he won’t call Emergency Services. That isn’t what I’m fucking worried about. That motherfucker’s gonna report us as something suspicious, mention the Al Qaeda thing and the next thing we all know; Homeland Security’s gonna be knocking over our fuckin’ doors with their Patriot Act boners. Is that what you want because that sure as hell isn’t what I want.”

“Right, and whose fault is it that we look suspicious?”

“Both of ours, asshole. This all falls back on us. Not just me.”

Not once does she take her eyes off the man who now stands with the ability to incriminate the pair throughout the exchange. The man flips his phone length wise and reveals to himself a keyboard, which he uses to type up the license plate number of the car as the tail end passes by his field of vision on its way off the premises. Only once he’s completely out of sight does Arryn look away, opting to stare directly ahead, out the windshield. She pulls her hand away from her chest and opens up her hand, arching her head downwards to see the folded up knife in her clutches.

“And for God’s sake, put that thing away.”

“Not until you think of something to get us out of this mess. Until then, I’m keeping this thing right where I can get to it.”

Joshua lets out a sigh and lightly taps on the brakes as the car hits a red light. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and whistling, he runs the cogs in his head at max speed to try and work out some sort of temporary solution to this problem that could go one of two ways: either with Arryn being right and the feds frothing at the mouth to take down something that no one has any evidence on regarding potential illegal acts or with the feds not caring due to lack of hard evidence. Though the second option was easily the more feasible, Arryn’s mind was wrapped around the first and no amount of convincing could get her to think different. As such, Joshua had to think of some asinine answer to a situation that won’t happen. Or, did he?

“Why do I have to do it?”

“Because I was the one who brought it up. We’re a team here, I shouldn’t be doing everything. Jeez.”

Yes, he did.

“I got it.”

Arryn’s ears perk up and a smile starts to form on her lips. Nothing too noticeable yet, but she isn’t the type to hide elation.

“I’m listening.”

“We do nothing. You’re fucking paranoid. Calm down and think rationally for a second. You really think that the feds will swarm us over a comment and some McDonald’s employee’s testimony?”

“You’re right, you’re right. What was I thinking?”

Arryn chuckles, or at least tries to as the hand holding the knife falls into her lap. The light turns green and down the road they go, back to the cramped one bedroom apartment the gang the pair belonged to lovingly referred to as the Clubhouse. Silence dominated the rest of the trip, as Arryn, still unconvinced with Joshua’s logic tried to calm herself down and Joshua, realizing how long it’d take for his answer to sink in, tried not to provoke her. So, awkward as it was, the silence was also a welcome distraction from the bickering that’d ruled the meeting.


“What do you think they need all those guns for?”

Came the voice of Audrey Tucker as the details of the meeting left Joshua’s mouth. Neither Arryn nor Joshua bothered to ask the question to their customers, but the power of assumption would dictate the only reason a gang of revolutionaries would need firearms.

“Hmm, I dunno, maybe they wanna build some fuckin’ Children’s Hospitals outta some AK’s? Why the fuck else do you think idiot? To shoot some motherfuckers, and preferably in their eyes, some government motherfuckers.”

“Shit, was she this pissed all day Josh?”

“Just about. I’d say this was a better day for her overall. She may have threatened, but she didn’t attack anyone this time.”

“Oh fuck you both. I don’t hear either of you complaining when I’m saving your asses.”

“Shut up, all of you. Some of us are trying to get some sleep here!”

That was Marcus Perkins; the de facto slacker of the group. Short and fat was he, with shaggy, unkempt dirty blonde hair and a five o’clock shadow that straddled the delicate line between unshaven and unable to grow anything beyond this. He was a sorry sight, that much was certain and because of that his job was primarily kept to organizing meets and deals. Stumbling out of the single bedroom, Marcus rubs his eyes and throws up a middle finger at his allies, who greet him with scoffs and muttered vulgarities.

“So, what’d you guys end up scoring for the guns?”

“Four twenty five.”

“No shit? I take it back; that’s news I’d gladly wake up for.”

“That, and the fact that it’s four in the afternoon, right?”

“I’m a night person Audrey, duh.”

“Right, that’s probably part of the reason you get sun burns from Vitamin D lamps.”

“Oh, shut up. I didn’t ask for you approval.”

“How about I give you another reason to be awake; let’s head out for drinks. On me.”

“Wow, who knew you could be generous Arryn?”

“This isn’t me being generous. This is me being in the mood to get shitfaced and do something I’ll probably regret in the morning. Also known as how I feel every second of my life, but since there’s nothing else we need to do today, I figured I’d hold off suggesting it until now.”

“Always the charmer.”

“I try. Marcus, you might wanna put on like fifteen pounds of sunscreen. SPF three thousand or whatever it is your albino ass needs.”

“Fuck off, both of you.”

With that, the group of four departs from the squat, one bedroom place in search of…

Oh, fuck it. It isn’t like they’re going to find anything groundbreaking there or anything. That’d be utterly ridiculous.

Or, would it?

Probably.