by Chewy Walrus
"Blast!" Grissom Montag yelled, tossing his headset off from his head and slamming his fist onto the table.
"What's wrong, Montag?" Kit Piper asked, walking up alongside MBL Consulting's new security adviser.
"Bloody headset cut out!" Montag said, turning to his new employer.
"The one you were using to keep track of our boys?" Piper asked, leaning against Griss' makeshift weather station.
Grissom nodded gravely. "Which means one of two things: A, that the storm's finally taken down enough cell towers to cut all of our communication with the team, or B, something's happened to either the hovercraft or the team themselves."
"I'm hoping for that first option, Montag," Kit said, suddenly solemn. "If anything's happened to those guys, then this business is done for."
"Not just the business, but the rest of the island is pretty much doomed to be flattened into oblivion," Grissom said. "How are the survivors holding up?"
"Well, most of them have only minor injuries, fortunately," Kit answered, pulling a small box of supplies over to sit on. "Doc's been doing pretty well getting them all patched up. Shirley's been prepping some of the canned goods we brought down from the pantry on those hot-plates we managed to find in some of the upstairs rooms."
"Is the TV setup all right for you?" Griss asked, looking askance at the weather layout on his monitor.
"I'll say..." Kit said. "I must say that downloading news simulcasts from other parts of the world is really an ingenious idea, Montag. You're proving to be a valuable asset to this team already, and it's only your second official day on the job."
"Well, what can I tell ya, Kit?" Montag said, a huge grin spreading across his face. "I aim to please." Suddenly, Griss caught sight of a large, dark man standing in the corner, looking intently at the generator. "What's with Giggles?" Montag asked, jutting a thumb toward the man.
"He's the newest member of this outfit," Kit said. "Calls himself Priest."
"What do you know about him?" Griss asked, eyeing the man suspiciously.
"Not much," Kit said, shrugging. "He's a useful soldier, though, and will be a tremendous asset to our group dynamic."
"Oh, yeah," Griss said, rolling his eyes. "Hiring the guy who tore apart half of the first floor is a great way to add to team morale."
"Go talk to him, if you want," Kit said, winking. "He's not much of a conversationalist, but I think you can talk enough for the both of you."
Grissom rolled his eyes toward Kit, then slowly he pulled himself out of his chair and swaggered steadily over to where the large man stood.
"Hey, mate," Griss said, standing alongside Priest, who did not take his attention away from the generator. "Anything good on?"
Priest shot an unamused look at Grissom, then returned his gaze to its previous object of focus. Grissom cleared his throat and tried again. Extending his hand toward the large man, he said, "The name's Grissom, Grissom Montag, security adviser for MBL Consulting and head of Sandcrawler Security. And you might be...?"
"Were you not in the room when Piper introduced me to the rest of the team?" Priest asked emotionlessly, never breaking his attention.
"No..." Griss said, scratching the scruff of his neck. "I was... uh... I was kinda... taking a lady friend home after... we... uh..."
"I understand," the man said, finally turning his bulky body toward Grissom and extending his large hand to the noticably slighter man. "I'm Priest," he said, gripping Griss' hand firmly. "Now, if we're through with the pleasantries..."
Upon saying this, he turned back to the generator as it hummed and whirred with power. Puzzled, Grissom turned back to the bald man and cleared his throat again. "Uh... Excuse me for asking, uh, Priest, but I was wondering what your fascination might be with that generator, there."
Priest turned, slightly annoyed by Griss' line of questioning, and faced the Englishman. "If you must know, I'm attempting to store some of its energy within me, so that when it fails, I will be able to power it myself."
"'Store'?" Grissom asked, cocking his head to the side.
"It's my gift," Priest said stoically. "My curse. I can absorb energy through my skin and redirect it through other outlets."
"Fascinating," Grissom said, scratching his five o'clock shadow. "Wait... you said when the generator fails. What do you know that I don't?"
"Gauging the amount of energy this machine is putting out, it will not be much longer until the whole thing just shuts down," Priest said. "After that, I should be able to give you an extra half an hour of sporadic power, at best. I've only been siphoning off energy from this thing for the last three hours, after all."
"Bollocks," Montag muttered. "I'm gonna have to come up with some modifications."
"I've already thought of some," Priest said, pulling a small piece of folded paper from his pocket and handing it to Grissom. As the Brit unfolded the paper, his eyes widened as he saw the complex, detailed sketches. Why, this was amazing! Not even Grissom had ever seen designs like this before.
"Priest... this... this is unbelievable!" Grissom said, trying to come up with the right words. "I've never seen anything like this before! How did you do this?"
"All it takes is an ingenuitive mind," Priest said. "Unfortunately, I lack any sort of tools and certain essential materials to make necessary modifications."
"I've got the better part of my workbench stacked over by my weather equipment," Grissom offered. "Anything you don't have, I'm sure we could construct some sort of substitute for."
Priest eyed Montag carefully, considering his offer. After about fifteen seconds of deliberation, the man spoke. "What'd you say your name was again?"
"Grissom Montag," came a Cockneyed accent in response, "but my friends call me Griss."
"Well, Griss, I suggest we get started," Priest said, smirking in the way only one who rarely smiles can.
"Y'know, Priest," Grissom said before making his way over to his workbench, "I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship."