61.
Jamie
Jamie walked along slowly, hands thrust into her pockets, the night rising around her as the summer sky started to grow dim. What time was it, anyway? She checked her phone, but it showed a network error. She unlocked it, and then tried to access the internet. Another error popped up, followed by the buzz of a text message:
“WARNING: Your account has been deactivated due to non-payment. Please contact customer service immediately by dialing *3 to resolve.”
Jamie stared at the phone’s screen. “That’s not possible,” she said, and now, more than ever before, things were starting to seem like a sick joke, like the same error had made its way into the system for all these companies. Surely this was a mistake?
Wasn’t it?
She sighed and put her phone away. She’d been walking for a while because she hadn’t wanted to change back into her Gravity Gal costume, but she hadn’t been keeping a very brisk pace. She’d lagged, feet shuffling slowly.
This was so stupid, though! Clarice was mad at her for a worthwhile reason, but … everything else was ridiculous! Except the bank canceling the loan to Barton Designs. That didn’t seem to be an error, just a terrible reversal of fortune that would leave her and every one of her people unemployed.
But the cell phone, the car … those had to be errors, didn’t they? Poorly timed, but errors nonetheless. She’d paid her bills on time, always.
Her stomach rumbled, and she realized, not for the first time, that she hadn’t really eaten at all today. Even the stale bagel with the brick of cream cheese congealed on its surface now seemed appealing. She sniffed and caught another whiff of the river and ocean water in her hair, and sighed again. It was just a bad day, that was all. Sometimes these things happened.
She saw a convenience store and gas station ahead and quickened her pace. She’d just get something to eat, and that would help. She doubted they’d have salads, but she’d even take a microwavable sandwich at this point if it meant her stomach would stop rumbling. The caffeine had worn off long ago, and the lack of sleep from last night catching up to her. Had it really been less than twenty-four hours ago that she’d spoken to Sienna Nealon in her own house?
Jamie didn’t set much store by Nealon, or at least she hadn’t. Sienna’s methods were far too brutal for her tastes, at least in most cases. But she’d fought beside her at the bank, and helped in the fire, and at the ship explosion … Jamie didn’t necessarily think she was a bad person, but she certainly did terrible things when riled. “Not my way,” Jamie murmured as she walked under the aluminum portico covering the gas pumps. But Sienna was certainly helpful and effective. And contrary to Jamie’s fears, she hadn’t killed anyone yet on this trip.
The door dinged when Jamie walked inside. The convenience store was quiet, the clerk behind the counter messing with his smart phone. Jamie made her way over to the metallic warming stations where a half-dozen paper-wrapped sandwiches sat waiting. They’d probably been here for most of the day, but she didn’t care. She scooped up an inoffensive looking ham sandwich with mozzarella, pressing it gently. It was pretty hard, the texture of the bread approaching that of Styrofoam. She ignored it and made her way to the drink case, where she pulled a bottle of cold Diet Coke, and made her way to the register, successfully avoiding the donut case.
The clerk stirred from his phone-induced lethargy and started to ring her up. Jamie fumbled, finding her credit card in her back pocket and sliding it into the reader. It honked at her, and she frowned and inserted it again. The clerk, half-asleep a moment ago, was looking on in interest now, and his computer screen dinged to get his attention.
“Huh,” he said, and reached to the reader to take her credit card. She let him, figuring he was going to re-run it since it wasn’t working for her. Instead, he took a pair of scissors and cut it in half in front of her.
“Wha—why did you do that?” she asked. That was only card she had, except for her ATM card.
The clerk shrugged, abdicating all responsibility as he pointed at the screen in front of him. “It said to.”
She barely held in, “And if it told you to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you?” But it was a struggle.
“Do you have any cash?” the clerk asked.
“Not on me,” she said, and slid out her ATM card. She looked around and saw an ATM against the front windows. “Be right back.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, and picked up his phone again, lost in the digital world once more.
Jamie hurried to the ATM, her stomach rumbling once more. She slid her card in and punched her pin before waiting as it read, “PROCESSING,” in big letters. It usually took a few minutes, but … she frowned, an uneasy feeling unrelated to her hunger rumbling through her stomach. Everything else had gone wrong today, with her credit card canceled, her phone service being cut off, and her car being repo’d. Surely she wasn’t about to—
A loud honk sounded from the ATM, and a message sprawled in big white letters across the screen: “YOUR ACCOUNT HAS BEEN LOCKED. Please contact customer service at …” Her eyes glazed over.
“Rough day, huh?” the clerk asked, smiling faintly, apparently jolted out of his e-trance by the sight of her misery. He swept the sandwich and the Diet Coke off the counter and out of sight, probably for re-stocking as soon as she was out the door. The gesture stung Jamie more than she wanted to admit.
“You have no idea,” Jamie said, feeling lightheaded. She wouldn’t beg for food, though, not from this man, not from anyone. She pushed out the door of the convenience store instead and started back toward home, her footsteps slow and shuffling, her energy and hope exhausted.