The Writer Reads Flash Fiction - And a Flash Fiction Response from the WiP

Things have been progressing slowly over on my writer's channel on Youtube, however, this short reading came out today.

 

 Nothing survives in a vacuum, however, and yesterday, when I was editing it, I had a follow-on piece come to mind. Slated to appear in Another 366 Days of Flash Fiction, the next collection of flash, this draft piece looks at what came after the events in the reading.

Recruitment in Recovery

Conway came to see me himself. After I’d refused to respond to his recruiting center’s invite…and
ignored his emails, texts and calls.

Seems there’s only so far you can move when you’re in the tank, and the client is one of your company’s major funding points.

“Any reason you don’t want to hear what I have to say?” he asked.

The man was straight to the point, I’d give him that.

I just stared at him. There’s something to be said for regen tanks, but privacy isn’t part of it.

At least he kept his eyes on my face.

“I did make sure I got you into the car,” he added, as if that was a selling point.

It was, and I’d been so wrapped up in recovery and pain, I’d forgotten that small detail. For that, he got an answer.

“You did,” I allowed.

“And you didn’t have to try and save my life,” he noted.

I frowned. Had I failed?

He caught the look, and smiled.

“Don’t worry; you succeeded,” he said. “Or I wouldn’t be here to make this offer.”

In person.

Because you refused to communicate.

Both of those hung in the air between us, unspoken but tangible nonetheless.

He cocked his head.

“Any reason, why you won’t give me a chance?”

I felt my eyebrows rise, and hurriedly brought them back under control. The expression made him laugh.

“Working for me,” he hastily amended. “As my security analyst…given you were never meant to be in the field when you came to warn me.”

I swallowed hard. The man had done his homework.

I was an analyst. I did security assessments, found the gaps the guys on the ground needed to be aware of in order to stay alive, coordinated things. It had been just my luck the assassins had made their attempt on Conway using a flaw I’d found…the same one I’d used to reach him first.

Conway filled the silence.

“Yet you came loaded for bear, and with enough armor to keep us both alive long enough to reach the car.”

I had, but that was only because…

“I didn’t know when,” I managed, my mental voice sounding raspy through the tank speakers.

He gave me a look of mock surprise.

“So you do speak more than two syllables at a time?”

I frowned at him.

“Only when I have to.”

The surprise faded to contemplation.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he promised. “So…Will you come and work for me? I promise I’ll try not to get you shot, again.”

With an offer like that… I managed a smile.

“Can’t refuse,” I managed, and his return smile was a happy one.

“I’ll have the paperwork drawn up,” he said, but I was already fading, the tank having registered my pain.

Conway’s added, “When you’re out of the tank,” sounded very far away.

His “Welcome aboard,” was much clearer, two weeks later, when I reported in…loaded for bear and armored like you wouldn’t believe.

 

 

NOTE: Artwork and cover design is by Jake at JCaleb Design and used with permission.