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Snapping out of the daze first, Demit went past the 2 men and walked down the hallway. What's a fireteam? The three shook their heads slightly. One more and we'll have a fireteam", said Demit. "I figure since we don't know each other and are in it together, might as well start." Roland approached Brewary and he took it.
He stood up and approached Demit for a handshake. "Guess that's where we're going", said Roland. "Don't call me that-", she was interrupted by what sounded like a metal gate in the distance. Seems I was looking for it too", answered Brewary. "What's a phone and why am I looking for it?" She stopped and looked like she was thinking hard. "So who are you, and why am I stuck in a room with you?", asked the lady. It was like she was wearing somebody's P.E. She wore something loose, like sports clothing. She was still sitting and her leg was bouncing. The girl wasn't a girl at all but a lady. Fit, clean shaven, dressed in a body fitting shirt and jeans. The walls were chiseled rough but straight and they were on small bed-like platforms alongside that were also carved from the rock. Looking around, it seemed like they were in a cave hewn out of rock. Roland looked up and saw candles on a rusty chandelier. Just as sudden as it was there, it vanished.Īs their eyes got used to the dark, things were actually just very dim. It felt like the answer to all questions. What's a phone? There was something sitting at the back of Roland's mind. There was a slapping sound as she felt the wall and what they were all sleeping on. She gave a small 'Ow', her fingers likely jabbed into a wall as well. "Where's my phone?", asked the girl as she became exasperated. "My, spicy aren't you? Dash of paprika", answered the man. "Who the hell are you?", asked the irritated girl. Roland heard a small grunt and some movement as the man sat up. This one was sleek, older and had a slight vibrating hum to it, like a singer who sang slower, sadder notes. "Ah, would it kill for some proper down?", said another voice. It wasn't smooth so it poked against his back. He then realised he was lying on stone as well. It was made of stone, slightly rough and cold. Roland winced as he jabbed his fingers into a stone wall. Well of course not, he thought, he was in bed, and the phone would be on his bed stand at the left. Hearing her say that, he reflexively felt his pockets.