Bayou Whispers
They heard a buzzing and Roo’s cellphone, its cracked screen face-up and speckled with blood, lit up: 1 New Voicemail from Jonesy
“We’ll have to mourn later. There’s shit going down,” said Fernández, picking up the phone.
The Golem nodded. “Survival comes first. We’ll get them for this. I promise.”
“Damn straight, we will,” replied Fernández as he tried to open the phone’s voicemail.
Face Not Recognized
“Fuck, he’s got some sort of face recognition thing.”
“Actually, it’s the eyes,” said the Golem.
“What?”
“The phone says facial whatever. But it’s really just the eyes. Roo told me once.”
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