Man, it's a miracle we still have readers! We must be the worst at updating in the entire wattpad world! We apologize for that, but here ya go anyway!!! ~your faithful writers, Lewis and Steve
*****************************************************************************
Holy Zombie Apocalypse survivors. My eyes about popped from my head when we entered the agency. The room had a slick, white marble finish. A sparkling chandelier glistened above us. Piper approached the circular, counter ahead. On the wall behind which, was a built-in water fall. Casual and unnerving elevator music twinkled above and around us.
"Is there something I can do for you?" a woman inquired, her voice dripping with faux-sweetness. A comb contained her dark hair. Her face had a sympathetic smile on it as if she was thinking: Those losers don't even know that I'm poisoning them with this scented water fall. I'm pretty sure that is what she was thinking too cuz the air was really heavy with the smell of incense. My eyes sought the back wall of the room-beside the water fall. There was a framed plack which caused me to stop breathing...or maybe it was that scented water fall... the plack read: Ghost Pens champion 1973...Thelma Brenner.
"Ahem."
A sharp pain spread through my ribs. "What the-?" I gave Piper the evil eye for a brief moment.
"Go on, Mark," Piper encouraged, tapping her foot.
"What?" I asked cluelessly.
"Tell her who you are."
"Oh," I glanced up, but my eyes caught the plack again. My mom had worked with these people...she was gone. Something about the place was making me slightly uncomfortable. For some reason, I wasn't sure I wanted to tell anyone who I was. For once, I didn't want to be the center of attention (weird, I know). Maybe mom was terminated.
"COME ON! Mark," Piper continued, gritting her teeth.
"What's the problem?" the woman behind the counter asked "pleasantly."
"This is Mark Brenner! Son of Thelma and Mike Brenner-!" Piper exclaimed.
The woman behind the counter eyed us suspiciously. She opened her mouth as if about to say something, but hesitated.
"Hahhh...Piper," I wrapped an arm around Piper's shoulder, trying to cover her mouth with my hand. "We better go...the doctor said we have to get her back to 'the home' ," I winked. "By eight."
"Hm," the woman grunted.
I managed a Brenner smile. We gotta get out'a here. I thought, turning around and heading for the door.
"Do you need to set up an appointment?" the woman called after us.
"Sure, how about seven, tonight at that nice restaurant down the road, Denise?" Fynn asked, leaning against the counter. He pushed his shades up on his head.
Piper broke away from my grip by jabbing me in the ribs.
"Ah," I winced, "careful, psycho."
"Let's try this again," Piper said, a curtain of darkness behind her smile. She allowed a little, breath of a laugh escape her lips. Piper grabbed my arm, dragging me back to the counter.
"So?" the woman, Denise, asked, lips pursed.
"Yeaaaaah," I sighed, itching the back of my neck casually.
"Young man?"
"Ahh...yeah..." I started, my eyes staring at the plack. For a moment, I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. "Oh, yeah...um...I'm—."
Squeegee.
My heart pounded and I glanced up. No old man was in sight...good. Just go with it, Brenner. "I'm M-."
Click. Squeegee. Squeegee.
That's it! I thought and jumped away from the counter. My eyes sought the far end of the counter where an old man stood, scrubbing the counter with a wash cloth. Everyone froze. The old man looked up at me. He wore a worn, brown leather jacket and a John Deer base ball cap.
"Code...um," I tried to think. Is there a code for an old man with a squeegee who probably knows ninja moves? "Code Turquoise."
"Mark...?" Piper started.
"Bro," Fynn raised his eye brow at me.
"Code-," Denise started, picked up the phone behind her counter.
"No, no, you're not ganna call a code on me! I'm Mark Brenner! My Mom and Dad worked for your agency. I need some information on them," I blurted.
Denise eyed me suspiciously. "Code K9," she finished and set down the phone. "Please stay calm, Mr. Brenner. We'll be with you shortly."
"With me?" I still didn't trust them...and now they're calling the K9 code police on me! I'm assuming that's not the "our one-hundredth delinquent pizza prize." I glanced back at the counter. There was the old man.
Click. Squeegee. Squeegee. Eraaa. He unscrewed the lid of the water container.
"What are you doin', old man?" I asked putting my hands up as if to block him.
He robotically moved the bottle to the water fall and filled it with the liquid. The old man hobbled towards me, raising his squirty thing.
"Um...."
Click. Squeegee. Squeegee.
I blinked water out of my eyes. It burned oddly. My head began to spin. Random colors and rainbows danced in my eyes. Is that a unicorn? "What did you put in that bottle?" I rubbed my eyes, but my vision still didn't clear. Just then the world went black.
***************************************************************************
We meant to post this chapter yesterday on Mark's actual b-day! Sorry! We'll try to update more often! Have a great Brenner-filled day!!! -Your faithful writers, Lewis and Steve
YOU ARE READING
Covered Correspondence
HumorMark is normal. So normal it hurts. His life is boring and he's totally anti-social. So most days he spends his pitiful existence playing video games that involve guts, gore, and plenty of zombies. But what happens when a super cute girl knocks on...
