To Be A Killer

Chapter 21: Autopilot

"This is a test transmission. This is a test transmission."

"I-I don't sound like that," Sam stammers in shock. "Do I really sound like that?"

"Yes, Sam, you sound like that," Nadia replies as she jogs at a leisurely pace beside me. "In fact, talking to us now, you sound exactly like that."

"But... well, that guy's-well, I thought my voice was-was deeper, more authoritative. Ah, you know. Like, raise the gates! Covering fire and-wait. Wait! No!"

I hear alarms go off through my headset, and I burst out in laughter as Sam continues to stammer.

"Sorry. Sorry. Don't actually raise the gates. Can-can you close them again? Thank you! Sorry. I was-I was talking to Nadia. I was... yeah." He sighs in embarrassment. "Five, stop laughing."

"I'm sorry," I wheeze, trying to get my laughter to die down. "You're just such a dork."

"Thanks a lot."

"You know I mean it in a good way, and if it's any consolation, I really like your voice."

"Who did you think you sounded like?" Nadia asks. "Barry White? James Earl Jones?"

"No, but maybe... Patrick Stewart? Once when I was hungover, I did a good Johnny Cash." He pauses. "Hey, there's something we haven't done-a joint Abel/New Canton karaoke night."

It takes everything in me not to laugh at the look of complete horror that appears on Nadia's face.

"And we're not going to do that," She says, her voice firm showing it's not up for discussion.

But either Sam doesn't hear it or he simply doesn't care, because he pushes onward.

"Oh, come on. I bet you have a fan club among the New Canton runners. What's your song? No. No, don't tell me. Lady Gaga-Born This Way."

"I don't have a song," She says with a scowl.

"Of course you do. Wait, I bet it's a real oldie. Marlene Dietrich."

"I don't have a song, and if I did, it wouldn't be Marlene Dietrich."

"Annie Lennox?" He hums. "No, too introspective. Debbie Harry? No, too extroverted."

Nadia sighs and rubs her temples. "You know, some operators believe in keeping their runners briefed. Like, 'Hey, Nadia and Runner Five, you're about two days away from one location marked on a map made by Darren's bosses, the Yellow Jackets. We believe they contain something there that they use to keep zombies away from their depot. We suspect the site might contain a Comansys base. Also, we will shortly trial some interesting new technology to make this whole operator/Runner relationship more efficient.'"

She smiles sarcastically. "Why, thank you, Sam, for that important information."

"Siouxsie Sioux? Nah, too much eyeliner. Kylie! Is it Kylie?"

Nadia groans. "Will you stop going on about karaoke?"

"No. It'd be fun. Five would totally do it, wouldn't you, Five?"

I shrug, but before I can answer, Nadia speaks for me.

"The only reason she'd do it is because you wouldn't stop pestering her until she gave in."

"I wouldn't pester her. Five actually likes being silly from time to time, unlike you."

"Her silly is board games and sarcasm and the occasional flirting-not karaoke."

"I'm right here, you know," I say with a slight frown, but I'm ignored. So I pick up a miniature wrench that's barely hidden in the dying grass. I put it in my backpack's side pocket, since food and water is in all the other pockets.