Trigger Finger

Chapter One: Davey's Gone Green

Trigger Finger

By Matthew James

Chapter One

Davey's Gone Green


 

“Gah! Rubbish,” he prodded his touch tablet, swinging in his seat. Tinny music blared from the speakers.

The speaker phone interrupted the security guard’s losing streak. “Craig?”

Craig lowered his boots to the floor and paused his game. “Mm, yeah?”

“Craig, we found a woman wandering the halls looking a bit lost. She hasn’t got any ID on her.”

“Okay! Send ‘er in.” Craig stood up and straightened out his blue button up shirt, running his hand through what was left of his greasy hair. If he had a chance to get a woman’s number at work, he wasn’t going to mess it up. The security guard scrambled, flustered. Stacks of paper and useless knick-knacks cluttered the room, and he tried to make his little office presentable. Too late. A pair of penetrating brown eyes scanned the room before settling on Craig.

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh. Hello.”

“Are you... Head of Security?” asked the woman in the doorway. She was about thirty, maybe a bit older.

“Yeah! That’s me, come on in!” he said, enthusiastically extending his clammy hand. “Craig.”

The woman strode in and shook Craig’s hand. “Shelby!” she attempted to smile. “This place is like a maze, you know?”

Craig nodded. “Mmhmm, mmhmm, take a seat,” he inspected the woman as she cleared the clutter off the seat adjacent his desk, admiring her slim fitting slacks and... Sneakers?

She turned in to her seat and caught him staring at her.

He looked away, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Okay, so... ID! Have you got any ID?”

Shelby swept her messy brown hair out of her eyes. A nervous gesture. “You mean like a drivers licence?”

“No, I meant a Staunton & Ray ID. A security pass.”

“Ah, yes. You see, I haven’t been given one...”

“Right, well being inside the facility without a security pass is technically trespassing,” he winked. “Where was it you were trying to go?”

She scratched the back of her head. “I’m supposed to be visiting the... labs.” Her lip curled.

“Are they expecting you?”

Shelby nodded.

“Oh sure! Too easy, I can just call them up now and get this straightened out.” he span around to his desk and fiddled with the phone. “What’s the number for the science wing extension...” he mumbled.

“So!” Shelby said, a little too loudly, “Do you get many people trying to break into this place?”

“Ha!” Craig spun back around in his seat. “Like you wouldn’t believe! Every week we have some protester sneaking around in here, looking to sabotage our projects. That’s the thing right? It’s all meant to be top secret, hush hush, so why the public fuss? What is there to protest?”

“Well maybe-”

“I’ll tell you what it is!” he interrupted. “It’s all this security we have here! It’s like moths to a flame ain’t it? It doesn’t matter what we’re guarding! They think if it’s worth guarding, it’s worth breaking into.”

“It’s not very good security though, is it?” said Shelby

Craig didn’t respond, keen to tell this woman every detail of his job - he was a bull charging over a cliff, oblivious to the possibility of personal damage. “I used to work in the city before I was transferred out here, people in the city respected privacy! But these country folk, no, can’t keep to themselves. It’s this small town nonsense I’ve heard so much about- ” Craig noticed Shelby staring intently at his chest. “What, is there something on me?”

“Your security pass. It doesn’t have your photo on it.”

“Oh you noticed - I was complaining about this only this week! They cut corners in strange places ‘round here, all the funding goes to the high security wings, like the science facilities where you’re heading. It’s absurd...” he turned back to the phone and started shuffling through papers. “Where is that number...”

Shelby fished around in the satchel that was usually slung over her shoulder. “Gee, I see your problem. Anyone could just steal one of those security passes and stroll right in, eh?”

Craig gave Shelby a sideways glance, his amiable smile dimming slightly.

“Oh dear, no!” Shelby chuckled. “It’s not like I’m trying to break in. Do you have the time?”

Craig turned to find Shelby scrawling in a black book. He read from his watch. “Nine forty five?”

“Swell! And the date?”

“Umm... The third...” he watched her as she wrote. “of the fifth...”

“Cool, tha-”

“Two thousand and thirteen.” he added, matter-of-factly.

“Thanks, I was just about to ask.”

“Hey so...” Craig straightened his collar. “Maybe while you’re at it... You could write down my number?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Shelby grinned. “Great idea! Come here and write it in for me.” she gestured to the book and held it out for him.

Craig’s smirk was triumphant. “Really? Okay,” he grabbed a pen and leant towards Shelby to sign his number. “What’s this?” Craig murmured: ‘Third of May, nine forty five pm, Staunton Facility head security office, knockout guard while distracting him with diary.’ “What’s with that?”

“Oh, it’s just a joke I was working on.”

A figure ghosted behind the guard. She was a near perfect mirror image of Shelby, even with the harsh lights of the office casting shadows across her face: short, button nose, brown eyes and hair. Her hair, however, was tied back and she wore a light blue hoodie with jeans. Not to mention the chair she held above her head.

“You have a very unique sense of humour, miss!” his smile was greasy, “maybe you could explain it to me over dinn- ng!” the chair collided with the back of his skull, which sent him forward into Shelby’s arms. She guided him gently to the ground.

Shelby’s near-doppelganger clutched the chair, worriedly inspecting the fallen guard. “He deserved that... right? I forget.”

Shelby unclipped the security pass from Craig’s shirt and attached it to her blouse. “He was a creep!” she looked up to her doppelganger who looked back with an eyebrow raised. “He was trying to hit on me. Not the most pleasant conversation of my life.”

Her carbon-copy self let out a dry laugh. “Looks like you’re the one who hits on him in the end!” then she vanished, leaving Shelby alone.

Shelby sighed. “I can’t believe I’m going to be making that joke...”