Headlines & Head Wounds

Crank

"It's almost funny, the way it's happening. Everyone in the area is getting them, and I mean everyone."

Sylvie held up a hand. "Almost," she quoted.

"Well, not everyone yet, but they just keep coming. One every few minutes, always leaving a voicemail, one after another. Everyone who's getting them lives here, not-"

"No," Sylvie interrupted. "You said, 'almost funny'. Why almost?"

"Because of what the calls said."

"And what was that?"

There was a long moment of suspense.

Rorie grinned. "I don't know, my dad didn't tell me."

Sylvie scoffed. "So he told you that everyone in Skybrook is getting these calls, and that something about them is important. So everyone knows what these calls say-"

"Except me," Rorie finished.

"Except you," Sylvie agreed dismally.

Sometimes, it was hard for Sylvie to remember that Rorie's father was Officer Jameson Redmond of the Skybrook Police Department. Yes, she talked about him, and yes, he told her about his cases- but only when something interesting happened, and that, in general, was fairly rare.

In Sylvie's opinion, it said a lot that Officer Redmond found the prank calls interesting. Either he was just getting tired of living in a peaceful town like Skybrook, or there was something actually intriguing about the content of the calls.

"Can't you just ask someone, though?" Sylvie said peevishly. "I mean, if everyone's getting these calls, someone must know what the messages are."

"I haven't had a chance to yet," Rorie replied. "I would, but..."

"Right." Sylvie flushed. It was easy to remember that Rorie was her only friend, but Rorie's general kindness and likeability made it difficult to imagine that she was Rorie's only friend as well.

There was a brief silence while they both considered this.

"I really wish I knew what was in those calls," Rorie lamented after a moment.

"Do you know anyone who's actually been called?" Sylvie snapped.

Rorie shrugged. "Do you?"

Sylvie decided to take her deferral as an embarrassed "no". "I don't think I do," she confessed. "Then again, no one would-"

"No one would tell you about it," Rorie assumed. She often finished Sylvie's sentences; it was one of her quirks that, though a bit annoying, excellently displayed just how well the girls knew each other.

Each of them knew that the other was incredibly frustrated, but neither was willing to take steps toward their own solutions.

"I can't believe your dad won't tell you," Sylvie said finally.

Rorie frowned. "It's annoying, isn't it?"

But Sylvie had had enough. She wasn't going to complain anymore. Leaning forward over the table, she set her arms down, crossing them in front of her. "So what could those calls say?" she began thoughtfully.

"I have no idea," Rorie put in unhelpfully.

Sylvie nodded, used to Rorie's manner of investigation. "You say your dad was pretty sure they weren't just crank calls. In which case, the simplest purpose I can think of would be that they were delivering some kind of message."

"But people thought they were prank calls," Rorie protested. "If it had been a message, Dad would have known."

Sylvie waved a hand indistinctly. "Okay, fine, so maybe it's in code. That's not my point. Anyway, if a message is being sent on such a wide scale, it means the caller doesn't know exactly who to contact- they're just hoping their target is somewhere in Skybrook."