The job wasn't for everyone. In this day and age there was always the chance a disgruntled reader or ex-employee would have a surprise in store for the first person to open the envelope. Then there was the sheer volume of mail. Day after day and week after week the letters came from the bags of the mail carrier and were deposited into the baskets of the the department heads.
I cut open the envelopes with my fingers and browsed the contents. A letter to the editor. That was tossed into the Editorial basket at my feet. Elliott came up behind me and watched me work.
"You're going to cut yourself opening those things up by hand," he scolded me.
"I' haven't slipped in five years, I won't slip today," I replied.
Elliott half-turned and glanced at the tables. He ran a hand through his short, graying hair. "I'm getting too old for all this bullshit."
"You could always go back to a beat," I suggested.
He snorted. "I don't know which bullshit is worse. The crap we get from our customers or the crap we give to them." He looked down and tapped his foot against a box. "Better take the Editorials up. It's already full. I'll take it from here."
There were no special elevators to send directly up to each office. Every box had to be carried to their departments and dropped off at the desk of an unfortunate secretary. I hefted the box and stepped into the hall. Down the hall to my right was the general use elevator that led to the other floors. I stepped inside and was whisked to every floor that gave its sacrifice of travelers. Traveling the gamut of the floors brought with it some perks.
"Did you hear the News section was in trouble for that story they ran yesterday?" a woman whispered to her companion.
The guy shook his head. "No, which story was it?"
"The front page story, the one about the lab blast. I guess somebody mentioned the head scientist's name when the official statement came from some general office," she explained.
He shrugged. "So what's the big deal?"
"That's what News wants to know," she told him. "One of the reporters used their connections to get the scientist's name linked to the statement, and now the editor wants to know who was the source."
"Seriously? That's bullshit," the man growled.
"And I guess there's been more sightings of the shadow that was supposed to be around there, but the higher-ups won't let anyone look into it," she added. "Rumor has it even the big boy's gotten involved."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Fox?"
She nodded. "The same. I knew it was going to be a bad day when that asshole and his Indigo Industries bought the paper. No wonder this place is going down hill. We don't get the juicy stories while everyone else gets the scoops." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "But at least we don't run the tabloid shit."
"Have you looked at the Life section? They ran a piece on losing weight through breathing in more air," he retorted.
"Slow life day, I guess," she replied.
The pair got off and I went on my un-merry way to deliver the mail. The day passed and night arrived at the end of my shift. Another day of my life was gone, and the only thing I had to show for it was a sore back. I climbed back into my old car and headed home.
Crowded streets welcomed me to my block. The nearest open parking spot was a block away. I parked the car and looked out the windows. The few streetlights that worked were a dull, hideous green that barely lit their own posts. The mouths of the alleys were yawning voids of darkness that hid nightmares.
I sank back into my seat and sigh escaped my lips. My eyes fell on the glove compartment. I popped open the lid. My pistol and holster sat atop the registration and insurance papers. I never left home without them, but I did have to leave the things in the car for work.
I slipped on the holster and checked the cartridge before I tucked the pistol into its leather sheath. I stepped out and looked around. Hopefully the boys weren't expecting me to keep my promise at this hour.
I strode down the street. The chilly fall air cut through me like a knife. I grasped the collar of my coat and wrapped it closer around me. My footsteps clacked atop the lonely sidewalk. I could see the light over my stoop. Just a little further and I'd be home.
I froze. Something inside of me forced me to look to my right. I stood at the opening to an alley. My eyes couldn't penetrate the deep shadows beyond the sidewalk, but everything was still and quiet. Such serenity couldn't shake from me the feeling that something watched me.
I took a step back. A chill wind blew over me, reminding me the night was full of worse nightmares than my imagination. I hurried forward and reached the stoop without further incident. I slipped inside and walked up the stairs. The new apartment was on the fifth floor. My old apartment was on the fourth.
I reached the fourth floor hallway and a stooped figure rushed around the corner. We collided. I grabbed the railing and steadied myself before I tumbled down the stairs. My opponent stumbled back. It was a man of twenty-five. His short brown hair was slicked back in a way that aged him another ten years. He wore black pants and a blood-red overcoat that was buttoned so it hid his shirt. His tall collar gave the false impression that his head sunk into his coat. The man's pale skin and hunched stance reminded me of tormented zoo animals.
He raised his head, but his eyes hardly left the floor. His voice was soft and hesitant. "I-I'm sorry. Are you all right? Did you need help?" He reached out for me.
I slapped his hands away. "I'm fine."
He cringed and hung his head. "I'm sorry."
He hurried past me and down the stairs. I took a step forward, but paused. I leaned over the railing and looked down the rectangular gap that was created by the turns of the stairs. The man's slick head circled the gap until he emerged at the lobby. He disappeared in the direction of the front door, and in a moment I heard the entrance open and shut.
I shook myself and stepped away from the railing. He was an unfamiliar face among the occupants of the fourth floor. That must've been what caught my attention.
I proceeded down the hall and stood before my apartment door. My hand reached into my purse a moment before my eyes fell on the number on the door. This was my old apartment. I swore under my breath. Habit and the run-in with the stranger had forced me to take this familiar route.
I returned to the stairs. The last flight of steps awaited me, but I paused. I placed my hands on the railing and leaned over. The stairs and lobby below were empty. There wasn't a sound.
I shook my head. "Probably some guy visiting his girlfriend. . ."
I hurried up the stairs away from the old memories and to the new ones I would make at the fifth floor apartment.
CHAPTER 4
I reached the correct door and stepped inside. The apartment was blanketed in shadow, but I noticed a candelabra with three candles sat on the dining table to my left. The slab of wood was covered with a clean white tablecloth and the chairs were shined spotless. Two places were set at either end, and a delicious roast chicken lay on a plate between them. Red stood beside the table with a wide smile on his face. He stepped away from the table and gestured with both hands at the setup.
"Surprise!" he called out.
I shed my coat and raised an eyebrow. "You have a date tonight?" I asked him.
He chuckled. "Yep. I thought my new roommate might want her first dinner in our apartment to be memorable, so I fixed up something special."
I tossed my coat over my old chair and strode over to the table. The scent of the cooked bird sank into my nostrils.
"It looks nice," I complimented him.
He scooted around me and pulled out the chair closest to the door. "If you would, mademoiselle."
I took a seat. He flitted around me and dragged the plate of chicken close to me. A large carving knife and two-pronged fork lay beside the fowl. He picked them up and used the knife to point at the parts of the bird.
"Dark or light meat?" he asked me.
"Dark," blurted out of my mouth.
He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were a lighter kind of gal, but your wish is my command."
He stabbed the thick thigh and carved into the meat. Dark-red blood poured from the thin wound. The life essence spilled onto the plate and puddled at the bottom. I leaned forward. My reflection in red stared back at me.
"Damn it!" Red cursed under his breath. He turned to me and gave me a goofy grin. "Looks like it still needs a little more time in the oven, but while we're waiting we can-"
"I'm going to go for a walk." I scooted my chair out and stood.
Red's face fell. "But-"
"I'll be back in fifteen minutes. It should be done by then," I promised him as I strode over and snatched my coat. "You can call me if it's done sooner."
Red stretched out his hand towards me. "Come on, Leila. I thought maybe we could enjoy each other's-um, company the whole night," he persisted.
I opened the front door and paused to look over my shoulder at him. "I just need some fresh air, that's all. I'll be back."
I stepped into the hall and shut the door behind me. The hallway and stairs were eerily quiet as I made my way outside. The street was deserted. A few streetlights flickered in greeting to me.
I felt the weight of my gun on the back of my hip as I walked down the concrete steps of the stoop. Going for a walk at this hour wasn't my brightest idea, but I needed air. That stuffy apartment suffocated me. The cool, smoggy air of the city offered more release.