About an hour into sunbathing, I heard a weird whining sound. Frowning to myself, I looked around, trying to spot whatever was making that noise, but couldn’t see anything. I assumed it was just some weird gardening thing, like maybe nearby sprinklers, so I decided to ignore it.
But the noise got louder. I grabbed my sunglasses to protect my eyes from the sun’s glare and looked up, trying to spot what the heck was making the noise.
That was when I spotted it. Hovering maybe fifty feet above me was a drone. It was one of those models with the four helicopter rotors with the big camera on the bottom, and I could tell that the camera was directed right at me.
Chills ran down my spine. I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around myself before swiping through my phone, trying to find someone to call. At the bottom of my contacts was a listing for someone named “Security Cox.”
I called the number and a man answered on the third ring.
“Security,” he said.
“Uh, hi,” I said. “This is Emily. There’s a drone hovering above me—“
“What kind of drone?” he asked, business-like and direct.
“One of those helicopter things with the four spinners. And a camera at the bottom.”
“Quadcopter,” he said. “What color?”
“Silver. With some blue trim.”
“Not one of ours,” he grunted. “Where are you?”
“Out by the pool.”
“Be there in a second.”
He hung up the phone and I frowned, looking up at the quadcopter. It hadn’t moved, despite the fact that I noticed it and made a phone call. Clearly it had been spotted, but whoever was flying it didn’t seem to care.
A few minutes later, a large man came out of the house. He was older but in very good shape with a close cropped haircut and intense eyes. He was holding a rifle in his hands and looked up at the drone like he wanted to strangle it.
“Miss, are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “This thing just keeps hovering over me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sometimes the paparazzi get too aggressive.”
“They’re spying on me?”
“Probably. Mr. Green’s marriage is a big tabloid sensation, as they say.”
Just then, there was a noise over by the house. “Cox!”
We both looked over and saw Carter striding out toward us. He was dressed in his workout clothes again, though he wasn’t sweating and fortunately he wore a shirt this time.
“Sir,” Cox said. “You don’t need to worry yourself about this.”
“Are you sure? I was running on the roof track when I spotted this piece of shit. Why is it still here?” Carter demanded.
“I don’t know who it belongs to, sir.”
“Give me that.” Carter took the rifle from Cox and put it against his shoulder, aiming it up at the drone.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“Cover your ears,” he said to me and looked back at the drone. It suddenly began to fly away.
I covered my ears and watched Carter take aim, licking his lips. He took a deep breath then pulled the trigger.
The gun was loud as hell, even with my hands over my ears. I looked up and saw the drone dip, rise, and then plummet down to the ground.
“Good shot, sir,” Cox said.
Carter grinned at him, handing back the rifle. “Don’t worry about the legal fallout, Cox. They were trespassing anyway.”
He nodded, face impassive.
Carter looked at me. “Well. Shall we go see our kill?”
I laughed. “Sure. Lead the way.”
Carter waved to Cox who nodded and headed back toward the house. He took me by the hand and led me across the lawn toward the drone.
“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” I asked him.
“Everybody should know how to shoot a gun. Just in case.”
“I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you one day.”
“I’m afraid of them.”
He grinned at me. “They’re just machines. Nothing to be afraid of if you know what you’re doing.”
We reached the drone and he kicked it over. There was a bullet hole right through the center of it, and the rotors were still trying to gyrate.
“Piece of shit,” he said. “It’s still broadcasting.” He slammed his foot down, breaking the camera into bits.
“Who sent it?” I asked him.
“Hard to say. We get them every once in a while. Cox tries to catch them, but I prefer just shooting them down.”
“What happens when you catch them?”
“Makes it easier to sell them back. Or sometimes I’ll hijack their programming and turn it into my own little anti-drone.”