DEET!

[Errant message received. Shall I delete?]

Frank sat up with a jolt, his MRE forgotten and on the floor as he punched the escape key with whole hand. The keyboard bounced and he caught it with hands that felt electrocuted. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins and the sounds of the camp (the humidifier, the sparse foot traffic, the constantly barking dogs) faded. All of his attention was on the black screen and the small, cramped font.

In algae-green light, the question remained: [Shall I delete?]

“You’re kidding me, right, you’ve got to be kidding me…” His breathing was a bit too rapid; he was starting to hyperventilate. Frank sat the keyboard down and sat back, forcing his diaphragm to pull down. His lungs filled to bursting, he stood and walked towards the exit of the tent. He slowly exhaled, poked his head out of the flap. “Hey.” He jabbed a slender finger in his handler’s arm.

“What,” sighed Jess. “Do you need more food?”

“No, I’m good. It’s just… I got a message.”

“What?!”