The Multi-genre Mashup SmackDown

A Sandwich and a Riffle in the Vault

The front door slammed open, "Did you hear?"

I trimmed the crust off my bread.

She–Marjorie pushed past the threshold. Her socks slid against the tile like roller skates. She slammed into the counter leaving handprints on my shoulders, "You didn't hear Ember?"

I wiped the butter knife against my thigh. "We covered that already."

She lifted herself onto the counter. "A meteorite dropped into an abandoned property."

I plugged in the toaster. "Why do you buy this bread, the seeds are gross."

"ME-TI-OR-ITE." She leaned closer, taking a piece of the crust. She smelled like vanilla.

I mimicked her tone. "We are not birds."

She hopped down whistling.

I opened the peanut butter, tossing the lid in the air. "Meteorites drop all the time, dear."

She leaned against the door frame. "Into greenhouses?"

I shook my head, "You said abandoned property."

"Yes," She backtracked, pulling a polaroid from her pocket. "The abandoned property is a greenhouse, see the ceiling. It's glass."

A smile eased onto my lips. "Glass ceiling seems like a metaphor." I couldn't control the brat tendency in myself, the blind optimism she possessed was like a gut punch.

"It's a meteorite not a metaphor."

I held the sandwich between my teeth. I knew the look in her eyes all too well. Within seconds we walked side by side, down the basalt floor. Once reaching the end, I pivoted standing chest to chest with her. My head sat slightly above hers, she'd never admit it, but she's the shorter one. Our bodies were in sync, like paper planes soaring. Navy and brown irises aligned with retinal scanners. The moment the beep sounded, she leaned in, leaving a gentle kiss on my cheek.

"Scandalous" I whispered. Her giggle bounced off the tiles. The iron doors flung open, and she followed me into the armory.

I snapped a vest off the foam wall. She filled a duffel bag with supplies. I went through routine checks, loaded my belt with miscellaneous items, laced up my boots, checked flashlight batteries. I glanced at the map tacked to the wall, "This is the eighth incident this month."

She nodded, slinging a rifle over her shoulder. I picked up the bag following her out to the truck. "It won't be the last" she remarked, turning on the ignition. When the traffic cleared she eased, leaning back against her seat.

I stared ahead. "We should order breakfast in the morning."

She placed a gloved hand on the arm rest. "Blackberry waffles, side of scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese and–"

"Hash browns?" I placed my bare hand atop hers. We melded like old flames, conspiracies ceased to cross our minds. For a mile and a half we were candles burning, an internal fire.

"Approaching."

I squeezed her hand reaching for a helmet. I fastened it over my bangs, activating night vision goggles. I scanned, "Signs of movement."

"Cutting lights." The fields grew dark.

I squinted, "Two targets. Looks like kids moving through the tree line."

She killed the engine, giving a curt nod. I stepped out of the vehicle, it smelled like a fruit market. There were citrus notes and yet something more sweet like a nectarine. I bumped her shoulder, "In a few days, you'll see a perfume called galactic fruit."

She shook her head, "Look down."

I flipped on the flashlight, bright red blooms entrenched the forest floor. They were thick like ivy, suffocating the land. They were enchanting, fairytale-esque.

"800 paces East."

"Yes, mam," I joked, jumping in the air. I reached for a leaf on the branch above, but landed on uneven ground as my foot sunk into mud. She smacked my shoulder, knocking crumbs off my vest. "Follow closely, sandwich."

I fumbled with the leaf "I'm the sandwich in this scenario?"

She looked over her shoulder. "You're the sandwich in all scenarios."

I dropped my chin to my left shoulder. "Come take a bite." I couldn't see her eyes, but I could hear them rolling. She moved like a little beast of prey turned predator. I kept my head down, but my eyes on her.

Midnight approached and yet light fractured off the broken remnants of the greenhouse. She stared through her scope.

"Move in–" as the words left my lips a flare set off from the base of the hill.

Marjorie acted swiftly, dragging me down next to her. My back was pinned against an abandoned brick wall. I glanced overhead, the orange light flickered into open air. "Flare trap?"

She sat down next to me, loading her weapon. She spoke softly, "I didn't consider traps being an issue, but it would be the cheapest option to protect an excavation site."

"Why would they skim on security?" I asked, pulling a flashlight from my belt. She focused her attention ahead.

I flipped on the lowest setting of light and pointed it at a pocket of flowers growing through the wall. "It's odd to have a trap so far from the debris pit. Flares seem like a warning not an attack of opportunity." The petals tilted away from the light, nearly uprooting themselves. I inched forward poking at the stem of the nearest one.

Crack!

My head shot up, "Marj?"

Another three cracks slipped into the air. I stood, pressing my back to the wall. I leaned forward and spotted her. She fired shots into the mist. I breathed, but a sense of security was short-lived. A moving target was approaching in a full sprint. I bent at the waist and dropped my shoulders. I approached the edge of the wall and sucked in a breath. As she withdrew into the shadows, I launched myself into them.

I slammed the target into the dirt, ripping their helmet off. I paused, with a raised fist. They looked young, like a student not a soldier.

A bullet zipped past my ear. I glanced at Marjorie, she was tucked away against the wall. Another zipped past. I dropped flat against the ground still gripping their elbow. I shouted into the darkness. "Ceasefire and I'll let them live!"

Seconds passed, but Marjorie approached another cracked window, this time closer to my position. She stared unflinchingly, locked in on a bullseye shot.

A sallow breeze lowered into the grass as I loosened my grip on them. They kicked against my gut, freeing themself. I groaned as they rolled down the base of the hill. My kneecap dug into the mud.

Snap! Snap!

Rumbles of explosions shook the soil. Sirens shocked our eardrums as fireworks lifted into the air.

Marjorie pulled back, and our minds connected. We took off running. I kept a step behind her watching our backs. Flares entered our field of vision, flying ahead of us. They'd spotted us. 

"Keep going!" She closed in on the truck, as I dropped to the ground, a flare flew over me, nearly knocking my skull off.

She punched the engine on and I leapt into the open trunk. She took off, as flares blazed farther and farther from our getaway vehicle. I unlatched the back window leaning into the backseat, as the sirens became distant hums.

Her lungs were still gasping for air. "We–we got nothing."

I smiled, breathing through my mouth, "Well, we're not entirely empty handed." I met her eyes in the rear view mirror. I lifted an uprooted red blooming plant into the air.

She slowed the vehicle "I could kiss you."

I wiped my dirty palms against my thighs, a sense of entitlement devoured me "You'd kiss a sandwich?"