The Secret Society

The fluorescent hum of the job agency was a dull thrum against my frayed nerves. "Althea," I stated, trying to keep my voice even, though impatience gnawed at me. "20, but I'll be 21 in three days." The lady behind the desk barely glanced up, her pen scratching across paper.

"Any special skills?" she asked, her voice flat.

"Umm. I can shoot a gun, if that helps much?" A flicker of something, perhaps interest, crossed her face before it was gone. She scribbled, then dismissed me with a terse, "You'll get a call in two to three business days, if there were any matches. If not, you won't get a call. Next!"

I scowled, backing away. "They'd better call me back," I muttered, pulling out my phone. "Or I'm seriously gonna have trouble with rent this month." Living in a small town, post-parents, had seemed like a dream until the reality of job hunting hit.

My phone buzzed, startling me. I answered, puzzled, as a male voice on the other end introduced himself, claiming to have my application and wanting to meet today.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I quite understand," I replied slowly. "I was told I had two to three days...it's not even been two minutes?"

"Our...company does things a bit different," he said, an undercurrent of amusement in his tone. "If you're still interested in a well paying job, we can meet up at noon."

"Yes. Yes, I'm still interested, where can we meet?" I asked, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess myself.