Contingency

By Mariah Lynde

Life may not be kind, but death…well that is going to be a bitch!!!! 
My name is Angel Warren and I’m here to welcome you to the end. Go to work, pay bills, and hide in my basement to play video games. That was what I had planned for my life. Reality had a way of making us all conform. At least, until they came. 
Fate decided to throw us all a curve ball and in the middle of the monotony, BOOM! Apocalypse. 
Nothing could have prepared us for what happened. Now, we’re several months into the rise of the undead and it’s time to start telling you my story, our story. It did not start suddenly. We were not overrun within hours. The most terrifying part is that NOTHING is the way we thought it would be.  
……………………………………………………………. 
Welcome to the Zompocalypse. Join Angel Warren and her band of gamer friends in navigating the first days of the zombie apocalypse. From frantic calls, to run-ins with the undead, watch the story unfold from the perspective of one of the people experiencing it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meztrailov Fantasy Games
• Release date: Jan 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386046455

Book preview

Dedications and Acknowledgments:

To My Family and Friends: I love you all, and thank you for supporting me in doing all of this.

To Mark Tufo: Thanks for the ideas, the inspiration and the laughs. Zombies are forever.

To Bobby: You have and always will be, My Evil Twin.

To Raz and Dark: Thank you for needling out of my comfort zone.

To My Aigie/Amanda: Thank you for the emergency save. I <3 You. Thank you for making this possible.

Finally this book is dedicated to my Aunt Trina.  While she may be gone, she is not forgotten and I truly hope wherever she is, that she knows I was thinking of her when I took this on. I love you, Aunt Trina. You will forever be, The Roller Derby Queen.

Prologue – Introduction to Downfall

It would be nice to tell you that the world is a perfect place. I would also love to tell you that for the most part, humankind is composed of generous people that put the good of the many above that of the few.

I would really like to say those things, but sadly that wouldn’t be the truth.

Sitting here, facing my own demise at the hands of the mindless throng of starving, mindless monsters wanting a human-y snack, I want to have a pretty clean slate with the man upstairs. Adding the title of self-serving liar is not exactly something that will get me through the pearly gates, especially when I have more than enough sins settled on my shoulders to account for.

Don’t get me wrong, I used to be normal. Well, semi-normal. A part of me had always been out of step with what was considered the status quo. Now, during the end of the world, I just happened to be one of the last ones standing. In recent months, I have been many things: killer, cook, survivalist, whack job, taskmaster, cruel overseer, and displaced alcoholic. Bad as all of that sounds, I’m not keen on adding liar to that list. Through every phase of my post-apocalyptic evolution I have had a penchant for being brutally honest; no reason to stop that streak now.

That said, there is one thing you need to remember now above all things: People are jackasses. This is not an assumption. It is a simple fact of life that is prevalent now more than ever. The last vestiges of ‘polite’ society are long gone. Those who had survived this long have done so because they are selfish assholes who have always looked out for numerouno. 

There is no ultimate truth to be found here. No words of encouragement or answer to your prayers. I have no explanation to you for just why all of this has happened, so I won’t offer you some half-cocked theory or panacea to ease your transition into the living hell our world has become.

Some would say that all things resolve themselves in time. Others would say, go with God. I will not do either since it won’t prepare you for what is lurking out there.

Do not be mistaken, life now comes at a cost. To survive the chaos that now rules our world, you have to put away all your preconceived notions about how things work. If that is something you cannot do then it is probably time for you to step outside of your comfort zone and take your chances surviving on the street nearby. 

Sadly, that does nothing for my situation. Sitting here, cowering in a dumpster along with the rather odious remains of some kind of garlic infused nightmare, I’m telling you my story. Much as I wish that things might be different, such is the truth of my existence right now.

If this is going to be my last hurrah, I will at least leave behind some kind of chronicle of my events to date. Well, as best as I can considering the thoughts currently running through my mind. Allow me to say, this is not the most comfortable feeling in the world. There is currently a massive glob of slime resting against my lower back to accompany the god awful stench that has my stomach churning in preparation for a retch like none other. Add to that the slow, squirming advance of small worm-like  creatures trailing  down to  creep under the waistband of my pants and seek purchase lower. Every part of me wants to stand up and scream in horror, but I can’t afford to make a sound unless I want to hurry along my demise.

So where to start? Oh, yes. The End of the World.

Some would have postulated that losing a mass number of the residents of our planet would have made for a drastic improvement. Those people were dead wrong. If anything, the world has become even more of a danger because now it’s just a few of us versus all of them. Mother Nature’s sense of humor was not lost on me. Never in my life had I considered the possibility that our destruction would come at the hands of mindless chaos and sheer luck.

What is it that could elicit such utter havoc and destruction to put mankind on the brink? God help us all, because the truth is still barely believable.

Zombies.

Despite everything, I never would have believed this would be the end of mankind. Mother Nature breaking her own laws now had our species as a whole circling the drain and fast. While the anti-social gamer nerd in me didn’t truly miss the way things were, the practical side of my persona missed the little things that came with normal life.

A sudden bang from a body slamming into the side of the dumpster made me jerk.  The feel of ooze creeping even  lower and  insinuating itself in the waistband of my underwear made me shudder even as I fought the urge to scream. I had no other choice. I lifted my hand delivering a solid slap to cover my mouth and muffle any sound that might alert the creatures outside to my presence.

The best thing I can do for myself and for you is to focus on what brought us to this point, so the best place I can think of to start is at the beginning. Here we go...

Chapter One – Real Life

If there is one thing I can say in the favor of a zombie apocalypse, it is the culling of idiots from the general population. Knowing I never have to deal with some of those sycophantic jack-asses ever again is something I’m completely okay with. However, I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Before this hell on earth began, I was your typical, everyday American drone. I woke up, I went to work, I went home. Some nights I was lucky enough to sit down and play video games to my heart’s content with my best friend chuckling in my ear, others I was just so disgusted with life that I went to bed and prayed that something would happen to interfere with work the next day.

I had a crap job. Not minimum wage, but definitely not live comfortable salary. Like most anti-social pragmatists, I worked in the IT department of a company that shoved me into the figurative bowels of their building. This is the part of the building where the floor smells like wet dog or a Louisiana swamp in the middle of July. So basically, I was already living in hell, the apocalypse just ramped it up to the next level.

The day that all of this began for me was no different than any other. My alarm clock sounded just like it did at six o’clock every morning. There was of course, my typical answer to the disruption of my precious sleep. I rolled my ass right over and slammed my hand down on the snooze button for an eight minute respite.

Those precious eight minutes of my morning were my personal nirvana. In this place between sleep and wakefulness, miracles could happen. I could imagine calling into work sick and spending the day lying on my couch and watching Star Wars like it was some cure-all for my lack of a real life. It was a beautiful thought, no lie. Looking back now, I wonder if there would have been a certain bliss in following through with that plan to have one last day of normalcy.

There would be no spreadsheets, no inter-office memos. There would be no phone calls from holier-than-thou suits upstairs with looks and no brains asking me why their screen ‘thingy’ wasn’t working.

Why can’t I do that again? Oh, right...

Rent.Car Payment.Electric.Internet.Bills, bills, and more bills.

I had a healthy amount of hate and discord in my heart for my parents. No one had prepared me for the sheer amount of suck that came from living in the real world.

No matter what I would have preferred to do with my day,  my obligation to pay my bills and keep the air conditioning running in the early spring won out. When my alarm began to peel once more, I was already rolling out of bed with a groan.

Disgruntled that my personal nirvana would have to wait another day, the sound of my hand slapping on the snooze button had my clock clattering to silence as I finally moved in order to join the world at large.

Turning my head, I peered out my window. Already the sun was out and promising to deliver another humid day to the Sandhills region. At least back home in the coastal plains, the winds coming off the Atlantic Ocean had a tendency to make things a little more bearable. Already I could feel my hair beginning to stick to the back of my neck causing me to groan. 

Just as I sat up the phone beside my bed rang. Ever since high school had ended and I moved away from home, these daily phone calls had become a cherished moment of my day. Pressing the button for speakerphone, I smiled as I nestled back into my pillow.

Hello?

Heya, sweetie!Happy Hump Day! Sure enough, the sound of my best friend’s voice filled my small bedroom and had me shaking my head in amusement. Robbie Arino, my brother from another mother, had always been and always would be my line to sanity. No matter my situation, his almost infectious happiness always seemed to bleed through and give me a buffer to the world around me.

Ha! We should both be so lucky on the humping. Chuckling softly, I moved to lift myself out of bed to pull open the doors to my closet as I continued, Heya, doll. How’s your morning going?

If you have never had the pleasure of a true best friend, I grieve for you. Everyone needs that one person who knows all your faults and foibles, that person that, no matter how much they know, accepts you for who and what you are. After fifteen years and a shit load of mistakes on both sides, we were still thick as thieves.

Pft. It’s barely light outside and I’m already heading into work. I bet you’re just now getting up...I envy you. That said, what’s your plan for the day? I detected that peevish note in Robbie’s voice as he spoke. 

Same as usual. Go to work and come home to watch T.V. or you know, hop on the internet to play some video games with my bestie until I have to go to bed.  Pulling out my work stuff from the closet, they were thrown on the bed with unceremonious dismissal. How about you?

A soft snort on the other end of the line caught my attention. Well, if nothing else, I could still manage to amuse Robbie.

Now, darlin’, we’ve talked about this. A killing spree against those assholes is not worth the prison time. Besides, you could do that job even if you were two pickles shy of a cheeseburger. Bonus side is, it lets you work on that little pet project of yours.

"I know, I know. If I can ever get the time for it since my job is so easy. Oh, wait, it might be easy except for the overabundance of stupid calls that I get. They kind of make it hard to get time to finish the outline for writing a book. I grumbled softly as I moved back towards the bed. While I considered my next words, I was already pulling out my watch and lanyard from the bedside drawer to deposit them with my uniform. Am I at least allowed to keep hating these assholes, or will you kill that for me too?"

Hell, no! You’re damn right you get to keep hating those bastards! So fuck them. Hate away. I couldn’t have loved Robbie anymore. While he kept me in line to the best of his ability, he would always be there to take my side.

Alright then, I’m okay with that. I stood moving to grab the phone as I walked into the kitchen to start a small pot of coffee. Just as I flicked the switch to turn on said appliance, I came to a sudden realization. Hey, you never gave me an answer about tonight.

That’s because I don’t have one yet. For once, Robbie sounded discomfited. All I had to do was wait for a moment before I heard it...that nervous laugh which was a dead giveaway that something was up.

A lesser human being would have been none the wiser. Me, not a damn chance in hell I would have missed that. This was a person I had spent the last fifteen years in the trenches of humanity with.

Every alarm in my head was sounding off, as I spoke once more, You have a date! Spill!

It’s just coffee. I’m meeting someone for coffee so we can get to know one another? Robbie’s voice trailed off and I found myself arching a brow as I stared at the phone before snorting.

Someone him? Or someone her?

For a moment, I thought maybe Robbie had dropped the call on the other end of the line. There was an absolute and total silence that had me glaring at the phone. Just when I neared my limit on patience I heard a softly whispered, Both.

I couldn’t help it. Rude as it was, I snorted and laughed, pausing in mid-motion from pulling my travel mug from the cabinet. Tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling with an idiotic grin on my face, I continued, Both?

Yes, both. You know I like keeping my options open. So, I’m meeting a girl for coffee. If that goes well, I’ll ask for a date. If not, I’m meeting a guy a couple of hours later. In no way were his words a defense, just a statement of fact. Such was the way of our friendship.

Setting the mug on the counter, I frowned a little as I spied the sink. The stack of plates from my current survival on sandwiches and Hot Pockets making my lips pull down in a frown while I made a mental note to try and eat actual food tonight. Shaking my head, I moved to the fridge to grab my Chocolate Caramel creamer and set it out next to my mug before I answered.

Well then, you know what I say... I began.

Yeah, yeah. Whatever floats your boat, Robbie chimed in.

Just remember...

We finished the phrase together, You can’t cross the ocean in a dinghy.

Both of us exploded into a fit of infectious laughter. These few moments were pure, lighthearted bliss. However, that mood was soon broken as Robbie spoke again, his voice taking a serious turn, What about you, darlin’? Are there any potential candidates on clearing those cobwebs out from between your legs?

Hell, no. I’m staying off the market until further notice. Two sugars and a healthy dose of  creamer later, I made my way back towards the bedroom to get dressed with my coffee in hand. Considering the time, I’d have to skip my usual morning croissant since there’d be no time to stop on the way to work. While I’d prefer having the whole shebang of eggs, bacon, and toast – cooking first thing in the morning did not happen to be my happy place, especially when I already happened to be running short on time.

If anyone remotely close to me knew I had a tendency to skip breakfast, there’d be hell to pay. As it was, I knew just how worried Robbie was about my exile to this hell hole. With a majority of my free time spent holed up in my apartment and socializing via my computer only, I knew exactly what to expect when I heard him sigh on the other end of the line.

It’s been two years, Angel...

Then I suppose it will just be two more. Look, I’m not a girlie girl. I learned a long time ago, I’d never be what the world at large wants me to be, and eventually I’ll find someone that is okay with that. Right now, is just not that time. Recognizing the bite in my words, I finished softly, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to snap at you. I just don’t like this discussion.

Sweetie, you can’t keep −

I need a shower. Text me later to let me know if we’re on for tonight? Sufficiently done with the current conversation, I knew it was time to end the call. I rarely, if ever, cut off a conversation with Robbie but there were some things I just couldn’t talk about. Not right now at least.

You know I will. There was a brief pause after those words. My hand was less than an inch from cutting off the phone when Robbie spoke again. You know, one day you’ll have to talk about him and what happened between the two of you.

Yeah, but today is sure as hell not that day. Jim is in the past and that is where he needs to stay for right now.

I don’t like this, Angel. I’ll let it go...for now. Have a good day, sweetie. Loves you! That serious tone to his voice was gone, replaced by that infectious happiness and unconditional love that I needed so badly.

Loves you too, babe. Talk to you later. This time I waited until I heard the soft click on the other end of the line before I breathed a sigh of relief. I missed my best friend more than anything. Late night cooking sprees watching the food network, nights singing songs off key or watching movies... 

If anything, I just missed having somebody around to share stuff with.

One day I would be back home, but until then I had my daily phone calls as a pick me up. What more could I possibly need?

It’s not like things could get any worse than they already were.

At least that was what I thought.

Chapter Two – Mindless Monotony

The rest of my morning ritual was uneventful.  After a quick shower, I got dressed and headed to work. As was to be expected, the parking lot across from the building was already filled with expensive luxury cars and high priced convertibles, which seemed to be a staple of the airheads up on the top floors of the building. Upper management always showed up early to impress upon their cohorts and us lesser beings that they were the lords that acted as our slave drivers. One day, I’d give a damn about making it known they were in no such way my overseers and I’d  take great pleasure in parking my pollen and dust covered Ford Explorer right at the front of that stupid parking lot.

Today was not that day, so I was relegated to finding a space in the Overflow Lot about four blocks away. I could justify not being angry about this by saying I needed the exercise but in truth, it was probably just so I didn’t rage all the way into work and have a day far worse than I already expected.

Unlike most days, it seemed to be surprisingly easy to find a parking space in the Overflow Lot that day. However, it dawned on me as I walked up the sidewalk towards the McGinley building where I worked that something was strangely unsettling. I’m not talking about full-fledged creep out type weird, but more a Bill & Ted ‘strange things are afoot at the Circle K’ moment.

Normally, this particular stretch of the sidewalk would be bustling with people. Today there seemed to be no sign of anyone. For a moment, I wondered if I had wandered into some episode of the X-Files by accident.

Making my way up the sidewalk, I slowed down. Without the benefit of my normal distraction, the lack of noise and people seemed to make this particular place seem off. If anything, the world seemed isolated, devoid of anything familiar or expected, and that made my hair stand on end.

Pausing for a moment, I decided to really take notice of what seemed to be happening, or more correctly, not happening in the world around me. First thing I noticed was the lack of a certain snooty waiter (whom I had dubbed 'Pierre')bustling about the outdoor tables of the posh café to my left. As a matter of fact, the outdoor tables of said establishment remained unmanned, their chairs flipped up and resting on the tabletops while chains held them locked into place.

While I could not stand Pierre, there was an unspoken war that I thrilled in winning every day. One of those silent ‘fuck you’ wars that only some people understand; allow me to tell you, they can be a help or a hindrance.

These kinds of wars are based on people’s perception. In this case, Pierre the Snooty had a problem with me. Every morning I would walk by and he would look on me with something akin to disgust. I would meet his gaze, smile happily and keep moving towards work as if what he thought didn’t concern me. A ‘fuck you’ war is truly that simple and yet complex. The beauty of these little campaigns is you never speak a word. If you do, the spell is broken and there is a likelihood that cops will get involved, so you keep the silent war raging and whoever can hold out the longest wins.

Make no mistake − this conflict was not based on some simple slur or insult. After all, there will always be one person you don’t like and who despises you. My little war with Pierre was far more than that.  For months, he had looked down his nose at me as a paying customer, but it had been seeing how he acted with other people that solidified his place in my mind. No matter who he interacted with, he always seemed set on making people feel shamed for being less that what was expected. I’d seen him yell at small children, insult  expectant mothers, pick on the unfortunate, or just flat out  be dismissive of other people in such a manner that it caused them to  slouch and slink off. Thus, making him my nemesis in the fuck you war had been my own little brand of vigilante justice.

Brushing past the café, I moved further up the sidewalk only to have another disheartening experience. I’ve already admitted I’m not great at the social stuff, but there are a few people I had grown fond of in my time here. One of which happened to be a New York transplant named Justin that worked the small deli cart that could normally be found outside the McGinley Building. It seemed that this morning, he too was conspicuously absent. While normally I would have brushed such a thing off, coupled with the lack of people around I can admit to a healthy amount of mounting worry.

Whether it turned out to be a godsend or just bad luck, before I could delve further into the rabbit hole my phone began to peel out the strains of ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls’ to remind me about my obligation to the GNP. (That’s Gross National Product for those of you who might not know.)Duty called, so I set aside my thoughts and marched onward.

Silencing my phone as I walked, my rush to make it to work blinded me to the rest of the world. I did not see the absence of cars driving down the street or hear the sound of sirens off in the distance. I was wholly focused on making my way into work to get this day over with.

The McGinley building was a fortress for the rich. One of the newer buildings in the Charlotte area; it stretched high up into the skyline as a monstrosity of glass and metal. Let’s be honest, anyone who makes a building this tall and gaudy had to be compensating for something.

Be that as it may, I was a lemming. A mere worker bee heading into the hive ruled by royals who made the big money deals while their soldiers in middle management cracked the whip over the rest of us.

Funny thing though, worker bee or not, there is always that one defective model. Occasionally you had one of the others in a different caste break the mold, but those situations normally ended badly. Even in human society, conformity is what paid off. Me? I’ve always been a non-conformist. Truth be told, I would have happily walked in daily with both arms up and handing out one fingered salutes to every one of these assholes if I thought I could get away with it.

Instead, I kept my head down and my mouth shut as I shuffled across the courtyard leading towards the lobby of the building. Today would be no different than any other, so I began to gird my loins against the onslaught of stupid I would encounter.

I lifted one arm, pushing at the rotating glass that served as a door before stepping into the spacious lobby. A few other worker drones milled about the open area like free-roaming cattle, each of them dressed in the appropriate attire for their work day: Red polo shirts for the IT department, Yellow shirts for shipping and mail – whoever had come up with the idea of color coordinating the departments in the company deserved to be shot. I couldn’t help but think that one of the managers from upstairs would look down on all these worker bees scrambling and think, Ha ha, which red shirt shall we send to their death today, Captain?

Against the background of pristine white marble and cold shining metal, the splashes of color in awkward patterns was nauseating to say the least. As disturbing as it could be, the worst part was that after a while it became...normal.

Across the lobby, the security desk stood like a black altar meant for sacrifice among the ivory backdrop. Two security officers in their powder blue shirts stood nearby, scanning people in one by one while the line of workers formed in front of them. While I did not envy them the problem cases and grind of paperwork, I did envy their freedom to move about during the day.

A sharp whistle somewhere off to my right caught my attention. That ear-splitting, high pitched sound had me stumbling slightly as I tried to ascertain the reason for such a sound. Had the hounds finally been let loose on the masses? Was some crazy bird caught inside the lobby? Turning on my heel to try and trace the source of the sound, I ran straight into the wall that was Isaac Palmer.

One of the security guards that worked the day shift, Isaac happened to be another one of those few people that made my day a bit more bearable. Standing at close to six foot five, he had a hulking frame of massive muscle, sinew, and flesh. A former football player for the Panthers’ second string, he remained an intimidating sight to behold. Isaac was the kind of guy that you couldn’t help but think of a freight train with the way he moved about.

The man had once been a power house on the field. Lauded as one of the best lineman that had ever graced the turf; it had been a knee injury that had ended his career and brought him back to everyday life. Now, instead of facing off with powerhouse teams and ogling cheerleaders, he was here living the life of a security guard.

Speaking of, at this very moment said hulking mass of human bulldozer was grinning down at me like I had done something cute, like twirl in a tutu before pirouettingmy ass back to the entrance. Dark brown eyes twinkled down towards me as large hands gripped my upper arms to steady me before he chuckled.

Sorry, didn’t think you’d turn around so quick. One large hand lifted to rub his bald head ruefully.

Few people realized that Isaac Palmer was nothing more than a giant teddy bear. For all his fierce appearance, he always seemed as gentle as a newborn lamb. 

It’s fine, Isaac. I wasn’t paying attention. One hand lifted to pat the man on the arm as I continued, No harm, no foul.

So, what are you up to this morning that you’re runnin’ so late, sexy momma?

Now, Isaac, if you keep saying things like that I might just think you mean it. Pulling my hand back from his arm and moving it behind me to pull the ID card out of my back pocket to hand over to him.

What if I do mean it? You’ve never really asked. His hand enveloped mine, those long fingers easily covering my  own  for a second too long  as he pulled the card from my suddenly tingling digits. Unable to look away as he scanned my card, my tongue darted out to lick my suddenly dry lips while I waited.

Now, I’m not gonna lie. Isaac is a fine looking man. From those broad shoulders and the barrel chest tapering down to a slim waist, one couldn’t help but admire the near Herculean build. High cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose gave his face a sharp definition that sent a small little thrill racing through me every time I found myself watching him. That said, I just couldn’t see him being serious in the things he said to me.

Aw, Isaac. You’re sweet, but I bet you say that to all the ladies. Heat flooded my cheeks as I looked away trying to play off my embarrassment. When my card was handed back to me, I noticed him staring down at me with a look on his face I couldn’t quite place.

Pft. You know better. Besides, I don’t like them stick ladies upstairs. For all their fancy talk and clothes, they couldn’t handle none of this. I like me a real woman. Ya know, a woman with curves and a brain. Sad as it is to admit this, his words were the closest thing I’d had to a compliment in years. Well, from anyone outside of family. I couldn’t help but blush a little as I twisted slightly to deliver a friendly hip bump to the man in question.

Unfortunately, that did nothing to alleviate the awkward tension that suddenly seemed to electrify the air between us. Hoping to tip the scales back into the realm of reality, I tilted my head back to look up at Isaac and smile.

I wouldn’t let those ladies hear you saying that. They think they run the world up there in that ivory tower. Moving to pin my ID card to the lower portion on my shirt, I tore my gaze away from his. God knew, I had no intention of fastening my badge to the collar of my polo shirt. The last thing I wanted was some greasy office manager staring at my boobs just to read my name, let alone drawing Isaac’s attention there.

However, Isaac’s next question threw me for a loop.

Why aren’t you one of them? I mean... Shock had frozen me in place as he uttered the very question so few people dared to ask. Unable to grasp the fact that this was in fact happening, my eyes slowly shifted to observe him as he continued, ...You’re one of the smartest ladies I’ve ever met. Pretty, too. So why aren’t you up in that ivory tower, so a man like me can come save you? You should be up there makin’ the big bucks, unlike most of them. For the second time that day, I almost felt the need to tear up. Still, it took me a moment to collect my thoughts in order to answer him. For most of that time, I stared at him blankly. In the end, it only seemed right to give him some random, nonchalant answer like I gave most outsiders.

If I went and did that, Isaac, you’d never see me in the mornings. Slowly,  I  moved to step back, trying to give a small shrug as if I had not a care in the world. There was a darkening of his eyes as something flashed across his face, before a low rumbling growl of a laugh sounded on the air.

I would find a way to see you. That is one thing I can promise. Isaac leaned down then putting his face only a couple of inches away from my own. I knew that unless I wanted to make a scene, the best thing I could do was remain stock still. Chocolate brown eyes peered into my own with a small spark of warmth before he smiled. See you at lunchtime?

You know it. Those words left me in a small rush of air that made it sound like I was whispering the secrets of the universe to some hallowed entity.

What is wrong with me? All of the sudden I sound like some breathy, romantic female lead in a cheesy movie, and I could have kicked myself for it. Ugh, he had just been playing around. Maybe Robbie had been right and I needed to get laid so I could stop acting like some love sick puppy whenever someone gave me a compliment.

Needing an escape, I moved as quickly as I could to walk past the metal detector and straight to the elevator bay. Ducking my head,  I shuffled into the small car like a sardine into a can and I could swear I felt Isaac’s gaze on me the whole time.  I refused to lift my head, but I was pretty sure that if I had looked in the reflective metal surface of the interior I’d have seen my cheeks flushed a bright red like someone had turned on a space heater in front of my face.

I’d known Isaac for three of the five years I had been working here, but this had been the first time I blushed when we ran through our morning banter. Something was different and it set me back a little. Damn Robbie for putting that idea in my head this morning.  While I am sure there could have been worse things, at the moment I couldn’t think of one of them. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you if I was afraid he would be watching me or not. Now, I guess I’ll never know.

Chapter Three – Welcome to Hell...

The ride up to the twentieth floor in the elevator was just as you would have expected it to be. Dull. Not, ho-hum dull, but the instrumental version of Justin Bieber’s ‘Baby’ on constant repeat dull. Two minutes in and I found myself ready to claw my own eyes and shove pencils in my ears to bust my eardrums.

For a brief moment, I entertained the thought of getting out on the next floor and ascending the rest of the way via the stairs. While it could be argued that would be more agreeable, at the moment I didn’t feel overly motivated to do such. My mind currently occupied by my conversation with Isaac downstairs, it occurred to me that today had me questioning many things that I normally wouldn’t. Such a distraction was far better than meeting my untimely end to teeny bopper pop music with an extra side of suck.

Still, the idea of telling Isaac the truth as to why I had been relegated to the IT department was weighing heavily on me. To do that, I’d have to explain to him just why I even had a job here in the first place. It’s not like it had really been my choice. If it had been up to me, I would already be back home where things made sense.

To tune out the drone of that horrid music, my mind wandered to the last few years. A lot of people couldn’t understand why I would stay here in this area if I was still so miserable. After all, three hours was not that much of a drive. Hell, I could probably get a plane ticket and just fly back for a small amount of money. Sadly, that just wasn’t how reality worked.

Telling Isaac the whole story would require rehashing things that had happened with Jim. Much like this morning on my call with Robbie, the idea of venturing into that subject made my stomach turn. Past relationships were always an ugly discussion, but in this case, I could make a case for the person in question ruining my life in more ways than one. Jim just so happened to be a hot button for me, no matter how calm I tried to be. Whenever I thought on him I had a tendency to rage, more over my own stupidity in the situation than anything else.

Isaac seemed to be a nice guy − I mean, I did talk to him about daily. Yes, there was flirting, but a part of me just couldn’t believe it was real. Soon, I’d leave this city, forget this job and go back to the place where I felt content. A place I never would have left if I’d been smart enough to see the truth about Jim.

It had been fairly easy to buy in to the fairy tale he spun for me. Leaving town to go to an area with better paying jobs. He had convinced me that if we both worked, in a couple of years we could walk down the aisle and start our happily ever after.

To anyone only a couple of months out of college and looking to start their life, that plan seemed foolproof. For me, who fancied myself in love with Jim, it screamed perfection. So, with no reservations I’d agreed to move three hours away to be near one of the busiest cities in the state.

In the beginning, things had seemed as if all was going to plan.Jim had found a job and I put off my plans to become the next Anne Rice to find some kind of employment to help afford the apartment that we’d found. The cost of living had been higher here, so I’d been happy enough at the time to take any job I could find - thus, my employment at the McGinley Corporation. It hadn’t seemed like such a burden at the time because I was young, in love, happy. We were starting our life together..

Within a few months, reality set in. For all his bluster and blow, I worked more hours than Jim. His excuse was work being seasonal, but I suppose even I knew that his excuse was a cop out. I explained it away though, even going so far as to convince myself that I was just being paranoid. Then came the time when he made any excuse under the sun to stop from going out in public with me. Or the sly insinuation about my gaining weight, or being lazy when I would come home and fall into bed after a ten hour shift.

My need to believe that things were bearable left me open to so much hurt. While I continued to work long hours and extra shifts, Jim spent more time at home. The amount of times we went out together grew fewer, while his journeys out to the store or the bar became more frequent. Still, I made excuses. Our work schedules were just out of sync, I was tired from overwork, he had errands that had to be handled. For a long time, my need to believe that everything happening had a purpose kept me blind to the truth.

Up until the day I came home to find Jim in bed with a woman who I had thought was our friend. My perfect world had shattered and in short order I found myself alone in a half empty apartment and with a stack of bills all in my name to be taken care of.

For the first few months, I’d been in a daze. Each day bringing a new realization or problem. Between nursing my own wounded pride at being played and sinking in the quicksand that was responsibility, I quickly began to flounder. Once that had passed, I took the time to formulate a plan that would ensure an easy transition to get back home. In a perfect world, I’d get home and find a job that suited my needs, but on the off chance that didn’t happen, I wanted to be prepared. So, I made a list of all the things that I needed to have in order before I could leave.

First thing was handling all the bills that I’d been saddled with in Jim’s absence. While he may not have put in as much money as I had to affording our life, some was better than none at all. Now, having to handle all those responsibilities on my own, I was barely making it paycheck to paycheck. I had enough foresight to plan ahead. When I got bonuses, a little of that money was spent to acquire bulk items to cut down on cost, and maybe give me a small jumping point for my own apartment back home.

So began the process of saving money. I’d pay off the bills in short order and pack away what I could in my savings until the time came for the big move. If my numbers were right, I needed about eight thousand dollars to move back home. Enough to cover first and last month’s rent, plus give me a cushion for utility deposits and about enough money to cover that first couple of months in case there was a delay in pay.

Yet, knowing something and accomplishing it were two different things. Life was life, and just like any other time, there are always pitfalls. It seemed every time I had a little money stashed away, some unexpected expense came along. This last time, I’d been gob smacked with a two thousand dollar engine rebuild on the Explorer. It had not exactly been a welcome interruption, and had set my plan back another six months at least.

Realizing I was stuck in the situation I was in, I had also found a certain kind of catharsis in picking back up my writing. The goal had been to work some normal, everyday job and write on the side. I had gotten it in my head to be the next great female author, but I’d put aside any of my writing or ideas in favor of trying to make a life with Jim work. With him gone, I’d started to compile my lists and outlines once again, working in time to write whenever I could manage. Even at work. It also helped to keep my mind off the complete shit show my relationship with Jim had been.

A part of me was glad it had happened. Not to put too fine a point on it, but being disillusioned about the happily ever after was a blessing. In one relationship, I’d learned about lying, cheating, disrespecting, growing apart, and heartbreak. All of which were things I did not want to encounter again anytime soon. Jim had taught me that people would always try to change you into something you weren’t. Honest to god, I didn’t want to deal with that.

While I could have been blunt about my thoughts on the matter with Isaac, I didn’t see a point. Those particular thoughts about why I was in the IT department and what had gotten me here came with a heaping pile of bitterness and resentment. The look on his face just before I’d sprinted away towards the safety of the elevator had spoken volumes. He wanted to understand and perhaps was genuinely interested in what I had to say, but I planned to go home. I couldn’t invest my time into something that was fake or would be dismissed when I picked up to move on my merry way.

The soft ding of the bell as the elevator car stopped broke the thread of my maudlin thoughts. Sighing a little, I found myself more than grateful for the interruption of my personal brooding.

Finally, twentieth floor.

Pushing my way through the mass of warm bodies crowded at the front of the car, I moved as if my life depended on it. At that moment I would do anything to escape the promise of more teeny-bopper-music-turned elevator sensation, as well as the uncomfortable musings of my own mind.

Stepping out into the small hallway, I could already hear the blaring ring of phones from just around the corner. For a moment, I debated turning around and getting right back on that elevator to ride it downstairs and head home. A thought that was immediately cut off as the chime