CHAPTER 09 - MALLORY
I looked up from my desk after what felt like forever, but when I thumbed the screen on my phone, I found that rather than 3am, it was closer to 8:15pm. I sighed, wondering where my life had gone.
I ran my hands over the pile of folders, happy to have almost finished the cursed work. I knew that Sheila meant well, and she was by far the best boss I had ever had, but sometimes she stretched the bound of even my good graces.
I thought about texting Kelly to see if she was still out and interested in meeting up, because more than anything right now I needed a stiff drink. Well, a stiff drink and a bubble bath.
And, if things were going my way, a foot massage by a sexy man named Barr-
No, Mallory, stop. Don't do that. Not again.
Barrett had been conveniently available to waltz through my head the entire time I was working this evening, but this was the last straw. I had to stop thinking about him.
I turned over the final folder and started to read, hoping it would take me only a few minutes to get through - I could be home and relaxing on the couch in less than an hour.
Almost immediately, though, I knew I was being a little too optimistic about my timetable. As I leafed through the pages of the file, my horror grew — there was information in here that someone, someone at a much higher pay grade, needed to see immediately.
It was about...something sinister, something not really legal. There were plans and photos and notes about...hurting people. My blood ran ice cold as I read it — this was something right out of a movie, why was I reading this?!
I closed the file, gripping the folder as gingerly as I could, setting it down on my desk and pushing it as far away from me as I could.
What could I do? Someone needed to know.
I picked up my phone, checking the company directory for Sheila's number.
I dialed it and waited for ring after ring, hoping she would pick up.
Sheila didn't pick up. I left her an increasingly frantic voicemail, telling her that somehow a file had gotten into the pile that I shouldn't have seen.
I hung up the phone and looked around, still unsure what to do. I stood up, wondering if I could just deliver the files to Mr. Norman's office as planned.
Mr. Norman!
Of course!
He'd know what to do. He'd know who to call. I'd talked to him a couple times since I had started working at his father's company, and he had always struck me as a smart and level-headed man.
This was his company now, so if someone at the company was planning on doing something...illegal, Mr. Norman should be informed about it! I nervously thumbed my phone once again, hoping against hope that Sheila would call me back in the next few seconds, but no such luck.
I stood up, gathering the folders into a stack, with the almost-radioactive illegal folder on top, and gathered the rest of my stuff. I checked my desk one last time to see if I had everything I needed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move in the shadows near the elevators, but I didn't have time to pay attention to it. I walked toward the elevators and the entrance to Mr. Norman's private office, the one area on the floor that had opaque walls.
I had wondered before why Mr. Norman’s office was the only one that had walls like that, but then I figured he must have some pretty important meetings in there, and maybe his guests wouldn’t have such progressive ideas about how office floor plans should be.
Just as I walked past the elevators I saw the doors of one finish closing, and the digital readout showed one floor lower than mine. Who else could be working this late?
I hoped Mr. Norman was still in — it didn’t feel right that someone more senior than me should see this, and I didn’t want to just call the police — the Norman Corporation took steps to tell its employees that information was to stay inside the company at all costs. I glanced at my phone one last time, but Sheila still hadn’t called back, so this was my only hope.
I stopped in front of Mr. Norman’s office door and gathered myself for a moment before readying myself. Once I had, I shuffled the pile of folders back and forth before picking up a hand and knocking on the door.
After a moment, I heard a voice from the other room. “Come in!” it barked at me.
I took a deep breath and opened the door, walking into-
Something straight out of a movie.
And not in a good way.
Mr. Norman stood to the left of his big mahogany desk, looking at a man sitting in the chair before him. The man was older and even from here I could see he was sweating profusely, staring back at Mr. Norman.
So far so good.
The twist? Mr. Norman was pointing a gun at the man in the chair, and smiling gleefully.
I could feel my mouth opening to scream and the folders falling out of my hands, but no sound came out.
And then Mr. Norman fired the gun.
The man in the chair’s head snapped back, and he just…sagged into the chair.
“Welcome back. Had a change of heart, Bar-“ Mr. Norman said as he finally looked at me, then stopped dead in his tracks, the smile quickly disappearing from his face. “Who the fuck are you?” he snarled at me.
“What…what?” I babbled, not sure of what to say and unable to think in a straight line. Somewhere in the back of my head was a voice telling me I had dropped my folders, one of which I’d wanted Mr. Norman to see, but suddenly that wasn’t the most important thing in the world anymore.
I saw a shuffling off to the right of Mr. Norman’s desk; it was almost a blur, vaguely shaped like a man dressed all in black. Mr. Norman whipped his head around toward the blur, his finger pointing at me. “Get her!”
That was all I needed to hear for some kind of lizard brain buried deep in my subconscious to engage the flight side of the fight or flight response, and before I knew what was happening next I was running back through the doorway, out of Mr. Norman’s office, and toward the elevators.
I realized they would take too long, and I would be a goner for sure if I waited, so instead of pushing the down button, I immediately turned toward the door to the stairwell, ready to push through, before I caught myself.
Of course whoever that blur was, they’d see that I didn’t get to the elevator and they’d think I’d taken the stairs next. I knew I couldn’t outrun him, so I did the next best thing. I reached into my purse and pulled out the first solid thing my fingers clasped, and threw it back toward my cubicle, sailing it high over the glass barriers that divided the sections and desks.
Then I headed for the stairs, closing the door as softy behind me as I could.
I just had to believe the guy coming out of the office - HUNTING ME - would investigate the sound on the floor first, just in case I might have hidden there after realizing the elevator would take too long.
Given what I had just seen, that might be the only way I would survive long enough to get out of the building.