My original entry for the fox_las challenge thingo. Not submitted due to its AU-ness. Just thought I'd share this little ficlet, instead of letting it rot on my desktop. Heh. Prompt was 'A character reading a book about themselves' ... or something close to that.
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The book arrived for her in an unassuming package. It had been left by her door, and she nearly tripped over it as she was making her way out of her room. Opening the package revealed the dark cover emblazoned with the words 'Fighting the Man: The Story of Max Guevara.'
She hadn't heard that name in a very long time, and it gave her the chills to see it so boldly displayed on the book in front of her.
She never once thought that it would come to this; all of her 23 years of living summarised into 300 pages, complete with glossy pictures and a rather embarrassing foreword.
'She was the voice of an abandoned race, the saviour of her people' read the synopsis.
Yeah, right.
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It was nearly 6 hours later before she managed to get some time to herself.
The door shut silently behind her, and she started feeling around in the dark for the familiar groove between the bricks in the wall. Her feather light touch pulled at the loose brick, as her other hand picked out the tiny cell phone hidden behind it.
The faint glow of the screen illuminated the small room and Max sighed. She'd only done this once before, and that time it resulted in an emotional torrent that was nearly her undoing. Steeling her resolve, she picked up her phone and dialled a number she never thought she would need to call ever again.
Two rings and he picked up.
"I got your stupid package."
There was a moment of silence from the other end, before she was graced with a chuckle.
"Right. Hello to you too."
"I really hope that colossal waste of trees wasn't a product of your hard work. Because if it was, I'd like to point out that many, many errors have been made."
"C'mon, give me some credit here – don't you think I would have added 'never-ending appetite and eats for an army of men' to your list of characteristics if it was my handiwork?"
Max smiled to herself. She'd thought as much.
"I hope you find the guy who did write it then. And when you do, help me give him knock upside his head."
Another low chuckle came through the speaker, and Max breathed in sharply. She missed him so much. Her heart ached in longing, and yet she forced the things wanted to tell him back into the dark recesses of her mind.
"How's things, Max?" He asked, as if he could read her mind from wherever he was. She paused for a beat before drawing a breath.
"You lost the right to ask me that when you lef– "
Footsteps echoed from the hallway on the other side of the door, and Max never finished her sentence. She removed the battery and the cell phone itself was hastily placed behind the brick once more.
She barely had enough time to get into a less awkward position before the door was opened and the cold blinding light filtered through. The man looked startled to see her, but schooled his features into that of stern apprehension.
"What-" He began, but was cut off by Max hauling out a tub of what seemed to be packets of food in front of her.
"Just getting the rations for tomorrow, sir." She muttered as she edged out of the doorway.
The man glanced at her retreating back curiously before turning back to the small supply room.
His walkie talkie crackled, and a throaty voice came through the static. He shut the door to the room, giving it a solid tug before replying.
"No, it was just 452 getting supplies. Nothing to worry about Deck. Nothing at all."
End.
Review? :)