Omega(2)
“Ah, you should watch,” the older man said, and turned back to the front of the elevator. “Great stuff.”
“It’s not for me. Too violent.” He smiled politely and watched the dial slowly move until the elevator dinged and he sighed in not—too obvious relief. “Well,” he said with a nod to the older man, “this is me.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” the older man said, and squeezed his large frame to the side of the elevator. “Have a good one, okay?”
“You, too.” It even sounded sincere.
The elevator opened to a long hallway, and at the end was a window, autumn sun shining through it onto the red carpeting. The walls were done in crimson and beige tones, warm and inviting. He walked, trudging almost, enjoying the heat that came from the radiators on the walls around him after the chill of the street. Winter is going to be terrible, he thought. If I’m even around for it. Misery settled on him like the chill weather, and he shuddered.
A woman emerged from the doorway across from his, only a few feet ahead of him. Her hair was long and blond, and she was striking, willowy, athletic—and surprisingly busty, he wasn’t too distracted to notice. His smile was easy, it didn’t just pop up like some cheesy car salesman—it started slow, and spread across his entire face, a warming effect that he’d practiced long and hard to achieve. He didn’t feel much use for it right now, but for her... “Hello,” he said.
She returned the smile. She was stunning, her hair falling to her shoulders, the green in her eyes giving her a warmth that he couldn’t recall seeing in any of the women he’d dated recently. “Hello,” she said.
“Wow, hey,” he said, as she walked on, turning slightly to watch him as he continued to speak, “looks like we’re neighbors.” He almost slapped himself in the forehead for the sheer ridiculousness of that statement. He held the smile on his face in spite of it, and saw the return from her.
“Well, I guess I’ll...” He watched her receding back as he admired everything about the shapeliness of it, “...see you around.” Still got it, at least. His smile turned genuine again, but she did not turn to respond, and arrived at the elevator as it opened again, revealing the big man who’d ridden up with him.
His smile vanished and he pivoted abruptly to walk back toward his door, as though a simple change of direction could make the big man disappear. He cast a look back and the two of them were standing there, at the elevator, waiting, watching him. He felt a pang of uneasiness and looked in the other direction, toward the end of the hallway where the stairs were. There, waiting, was the blond man from the street, staring down the hallway. With him was a shorter, muscular man with a blunter face and blond hair a shade sandier than his companion.
He drew a sharp breath and felt a tremor of recognition, seeing all four of them now. They’re here. Blocking the stairs and the elevator. No retreat. He hesitated only a moment as he fingered his keys in his pocket and felt for the right one, knowing that movement would seal his fate, would spring them in motion against him.
He felt the key, the grooves, how it differed from the plastic top of his car key, how much larger in size it was from the key to his padlocked storage unit in the basement or the one that unlocked the safety deposit box at his bank. He looked again, and they had all begun the walk toward him, all four of them—Katrina Forrest, he thought, looking at the blond whose eye he had been trying to catch only a moment before. Kurt Hannegan, the big man, Scott Byerly, the blunt—faced man near the stairs. And Zack Davis. Of course he looked familiar. He’s her boyfriend...
He brought up the key and lunged the last few feet to his door, fumbling, sliding it down the side of the lock, as he missed on his first attempt. He looked again, and Byerly was coming at him now, leading Davis, with Forrest coming fast from his left, walking, but faster than any human had any business doing. He felt the panic rising now, as the key plunged into the lock and he turned it as he worked the handle.