The Calm Before The Storm

“What’s going on?”

“Follow me Bentley,” Chrysanthemum said, beckoning him over to the side while the rest of the group ran on ahead. She pulled a walkie talkie free from the pocket of her pantsuit and fiddled with the knob before yelling into it.

“X can you bring me a uniform and the weapon?”

The walkie talkie responded with nothing but static. Chrysanthemum grimaced.

“Wait, your ex is here?”

“No, not my ex you idiot. X as in the letter of the alphabet,” she said. Bentley still was not sure what she was talking about but knew not to take being called an idiot to heart. She seemed stressed and it was still better than being threatened with a knife. Somehow, over the course of a few seconds, Bentley had convinced himself that the fact that he was insulted instead of physically attacked meant that she must be warming up to him. Such are the delusions of someone experiencing a first love.

“Progress,” he concluded victoriously.

“On my way in T-20 seconds,” a frog-like voice broke through the walkie talkie.

“Ok now seriously Chrysanthemum, what’s going on?”

“The alarm lets us know when the surveillance team has discovered a Cerb appearance, since we’re the only team on call, we are the ones responsible for handling it,” she said with beads of sweat starting to show on her pale forehead.

“But I thought we were the joke of the organization?”

“We are as of now.”

“You definitely need more practice helping to calm people’s nerves.”

“We won’t be the joke for long, that I can promise you. I won’t let us fail,” she said.

“I can’t say that the look on your face matches that sentiment but I trust you,” said Bentley.

“Well how do you expect me to look before directing the unit’s first solo mission?”

“Why would you tell me that?? Are you trying to give me a panic attack?”

“We took out that Eel-headed Cerb together, did we not?”

“Yeah but you were there for that!”

“And I’ll be here for this one too,” Chrysanthemum said. She removed the earpiece from her own ear and gently placed it in Bentley’s with a smile. He felt his cheeks burning up.

“Does this count as an indirect kiss?”

“I won’t even begin to get into all that’s wrong with that,” she sighed.

The sound of pounding steps against the linoleum floor interrupted their already ruined moment. One of the small beige suited men came bounding down the hallway, or as close to bounding as he could pull off with his stumpy legs.

He came to a screeching halt right in front of where Bentley and Chrysanthemum stood. The small man who Bentley now assumed was named X panted for a second, bracing himself with his hands on his knees before producing a folded pile of clothes and Bentley’s baseball bat from under each clearly damp armpit.

Bentley gingerly took the clothes with two fingers and grabbed his baseball bat with the other hand.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a uniform that hasn’t been in anybody’s pits would you?”

Chrysanthemum elbowed Bentley in the ribs in response to his question.

“Actually this will be fine,” Bentley said. X smiled and went jogging back off in the direction he came, the trail of body odor that he left in his wake was almost visible to Bentley.

“So you’re really going to send me off against a Cerb with no training or tournament arc or anything?” Bentley tried to take his mind off of the soiled clothes that he knew he’d have to change into momentarily.

“Nothing prepares you for fighting Cerbs except for going out and fighting more of them. And can you please stop with the anime terminology?”

“Then that’s a no on the tournament arc?”

“Time is really of the essence here so stop with the jokes and change into the uniform already,” said Chrysanthemum

“I will as long as I get worker’s compensation for having to wear X’s armpit juices.”

“Just change already!”

“At least cover your eyes,” Bentley said, his face glowing red again. Chrysanthemum’s face flushed as well before she quickly turned her back to him.

Bentley stripped down to his underwear and slipped into the gray uniform he’d been given. The gray suit coat and pants fit perfectly, making Bentley wonder when they could have possibly taken his measurements. He tied his tie to the best of his ability which amounted to it hanging loosely and messily around his neck.

“How do I look?”

“It doesn’t matter how you look, just go meet up with the rest of Unit 03,” she said as she spun around. Bentley nodded and took off in the direction he had seen his teammates go.

“Bentley,” Chrysanthemum called out.

He stopped and turned back to face her.

“The gray of the uniform suits you,” she said as she swayed slightly, “Although you do look a bit haggard.”

“That was almost a perfect compliment,” Bentley whined, “I never had anyone teach me how to tie a tie ya know.”

“Well, give it your all on this mission and I’ll teach you when you get back,” she laughed before giving him a wink.

Bentley was sure that his face was giving off enough heat to start a fire. He saluted her with his baseball bat and gave her a big mischievous grin before running away.

“I can’t believe that idiot really did help calm me down,” Chrysanthemum said while shaking her head before walking off to the Command Center.

***

“We get to ride a helicopter?”

“Will ya shut up and get in here already!”

“He’s right, we’ve kept the pilot waiting long enough,” Chuck said.

“Please Mr. Bentley,” Corinne said in her soft-spoken voice.

“Again with the Mr. Bentley stuff,” Bentley complained as he hopped into the helicopter and strapped himself in next to Grady the mime. Chuck shouted something up to the pilot and the whole thing shook as it started up. The mime pretended, or what Bentley hoped was pretending, to have to puke. This succeeded in making Bentley immediately regret his choice of where to sit. Bentley peeked out the side of the helicopter and looked up at what was above them. He blinked a few times as he confirmed the lack of sky.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re inside right now,” Bentley said.

“Obviously,” Two Mace Jack said.

“Then shouldn’t it be equally obvious that we’ll have no way of getting anywhere if we start up the helicopter in an enclosed space?”

“Just wait,” said Chuck.

The helicopter began its ascent, rising towards a direct collision with the concrete ceiling above. Bentley closed his eyes and braced for impact. He couldn’t believe that it wasn’t going to be one of the Cerbs that killed him, but a bunch of idiots with a helicopter. One of Bentley’s worst fears was dying in some inconceivably stupid way so that he’d spend his time in the afterlife getting made fun of for choking on a chicken nugget or something along those lines. He figured that running into a ceiling with a helicopter was probably not going to get him any cool points among the other spirits. Bentley gritted his teeth and awaited the imminent death. After a couple long seconds, he reopened his eyes.

To his surprise, they were now completely surrounded by blue skies. Astonished, Bentley looked down to the concrete cube they had been enclosed in moments ago.

“So that’s what I was waiting for,” Bentley said. The ceiling which had looked so imposing had split in half like a pair of elevator doors, allowing the helicopter to fly safely out the top. Bentley smiled as he felt the wind caress his face, drying the beads of nervous sweat that had started to form. Not only was he not dead but he felt more alive than he had in a while with his hair being jostled in the breeze.

“It’s a freeing feeling isn’t it?” Bentley looked up to see Chuck smiling at him.

“It’s amazing,” Bentley said.

“I’ve always found it crazy as to how such little things as the wind in your hair can bring about such pure joy,” Chuck said.

“I guess it’s just been a while since I actually paid attention to the little things.”

“I know what you mean,” Chuck said, “For the longest time in my life, everything had taken on the same sad shade of gray.”

“That or everything is stained the same color red,” Bentley said. The group went silent after this comment. Corinne nuzzled up against Chuck who sat straight up with perfect posture. Jack spun both of his maces, making them dance around like maracas in his hands while the mime played an invisible trumpet. They looked like members of the world’s strangest mariachi band. Bentley stared out the window watching every individual cloud pass by. He thought of May, sitting all alone in that hospital room. He wondered if Nurse Hawthorne was brushing her hair. He hoped she was. Bentley didn’t know whether or not comatose people could feel pain but he would still hate to let May’s hair get all knotted while he was away fighting monsters. Sure it was all in the name of paying off the medical debt but still, combing out the tangles was no fun for anyone. Bentley had also already planned an extensive list of books he was going to read to May but that plan too had been thrown horrendously off schedule by his newfound job helping exterminate monsters from Hell.

“Unit 03,” a voice rattled loudly through the earpiece in Bentley’s ear. It felt as if it had been injected straight into Bentley’s brain. Despite the obnoxious volume, he knew immediately who the voice belonged to.

“Unit Director Chrysanthemum Taylor requesting confirmation from Unit 03, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Chuck said.

“Maybe a tad too loud at that,” Bentley added.

“Perfect, too loud is better than too quiet,” she said.

“But not as good as just the right volume,” Bentley said.

“Will you stop complaining for just a second so I can talk?”

“Please Mr. Bentley,” Corinne said.

“That’s the third time you’ve called me Mr. Bentley, are you trying to break my heart?”

“She’s just showin’ her respect,” Two Mace Jack said, “After all, yer gonna save the world aren’t ya?”

This got Bentley to go quiet. He folded his arms and tried desperately to disappear into his chair.

“Now that everybody has finally shut up, let me give you the run-down of what to expect once you drop,” Chrysanthemum said through the earpiece.

Bentley cupped his hand over the mime’s ear and whispered a question.

“What does she mean when she says drop? We’re surely not jumping out of this helicopter right?”

The mime responded to Bentley’s question by pretending to scream noiselessly which did little to inspire any confidence.

“The heat signature in the area is rather small,” Chrysanthemum continued, “So there should be no real reason for us to be especially worried. It looks to be nothing more than a minor Cerb.”

The dormant baseball bat seemed to heat up in Bentley’s hand, anticipating the coming action.

“I’ll give you more instructions once you drop but for now just be ready to get in and take care of it quickly before anybody gets hurt,” Chrysanthemum said.

“Man,” Jack grimaced, “I thought this would be our chance ta prove ourselves, but if it’s nothin’ more than a minor Cerb then it won’t do anythin’ to help our image.”

“Don’t worry,” Chuck said, “Little victories pile up Jack.”

“Two-Mace Jack!”

“You know I’m not calling you that,” Chuck sighed.

“Chuck is exactly right,” Chrysanthemum said, “If we get this done quickly and efficiently then people at D.U.V. will take notice. Plus since it’s a minor Cerb, it’ll mean our Unit’s first solo mission will end in success.”

This seemed to raise Jack’s morale as he gripped both the maces tightly in his hands, his face painted with a faint smile.

“You’ll be over the drop-zone in a few minutes so just hang tight Unit 03,” Chrysanthemum said.

“Good, I can’t wait ta get outta this copter,” Jack said, “Bentley smells like armpit and it’s stinkin’ up the whole chopper.”

Bentley sighed while the voice in his ear could not stop herself from laughing.