It was never a word. It wasn't a motion. It was always a whistle.
Words were obvious. Anyone could tell you what was said. Motions required visuals. But whistles…
Whistles could be heard anywhere within range. One wouldn't know what a particular tone meant unless they knew the cipher; ciphers were usually verbal, making it even harder to understand.
And it was a whistle that got his attention.
At first it was quiet, barely louder than a whisper. Truth be told, he first thought it was a whisper. A vacant whisper in the remains of a distant past. The whistle sounded again and again, growing louder the closer his two-man group drew to the house.
The only house settled between the rolling fields of overgrown and trampled wheat.
His companion already had her knife drawn, flicked open at the ready. He was readied as well, his shiv in one hand and a door knob in the other.
All it took was a side glance to give the order. There were clearly people inside the house, but whether or not they were friendly was a whole 'nother story. He turned the knob, hearing the click of a lock in place.
He almost cursed aloud at the thought of needing to use his only shiv on the lock. Perhaps it would be simpler to wait for them to come out. Then again, their food stocks were probably lower than the group that resided in the house.
"Abby," A strained voice was barely managed to be made out through the door. "Open the door…"
Joel paused once again and knelt next to the door. His hands rummaged around in his bag for a mere moment before he found the intended weapon: A crowbar with knives taped up and down the length of it. A crude weapon, sure, but it worked well when the time came.
The sound of shuffling neared the door. He held the crowbar closer, readying a silent attack.
The lock clicked open and the handle began to turn.