James
I wake in the deep of the night, and through sleep-befuddled confusion, cannot make sense of the sound I hear.
But the noise is persistent and after long seconds it comes to me that my phone is ringing. Propping up on an elbow in the dark, rubbing grit from my eyes, I check the time on the screen as I touch Charlotte’s flashing avatar. It’s late enough to be early.
My brain is still not wired up properly. “Charlotte? It’s late to be calling. Is everything alright?”
There is a rustling and a clunk, and it’s Michael’s voice I hear. “James, we were attacked….”
Attacked?
I sit up with a jolt, scrabbling for the light switch as I keep the phone pressed to my ear.
“Attacked? Michael, did I hear you right? Who by? How many are there?”
“…. Not sure how many there are, but they’re armed with guns….”
Oh, Christ….
…. and I sent you up there….
…. Charlotte….