“...a stealthily approaching menace; not death, but some nameless, unheard-of thing inexpressibly more ghastly and abhorrent.”
- H. P Lovecraft
Zorie
He, Mister Black, was right. I shouldn’t go home. After three days, four? Was it that long? Reuben might be...I sighed out a hard breath, thinking. Okay, he would be waiting for me. Dying in public could be mucked up and bodies not found for ages, but more likely he’d realize I’d not done it at all. I had the dress, shoes, and underwear I had on and my car, a pistol, and four hundred and seventy-five dollars. The train to Perth alone was going to cost me a stack of that. I needed more.
At the university I could get more cash. The small kayaking club I was co-president of during term, we had a kitty that was kept in the staff safe. Cash that was used for small things. Another three or four hundred would be in there, and it would make a difference. Plus I had spare clothes.
It was worth it. I’d leave a note that I’d reimburse them, which I would do, but from Perth. I was going to disappoint some people taking that money. Might even make them want me charged with stealing. I was going to lose my job anyway, and make it hard to get work for a long, long time. That all made me sad.
I toyed with the car keys where they hung from the ignition.
Sad wasn’t terrifying, it was just a hollow feeling inside my gut that would eventually fade. It wasn’t a devastating, mind-numbing fear and, besides, I had no choice.
My sister Amelia would be puzzled, but she’d help me.
“That’s it then.” I drove out of the underground car park to find Mister B had paid for the park for several days and I spun the wheel, drove into the sunlight, and headed for the uni.
If I’d owned a pet, it would’ve been not just dead but mummified by now. Mister B, damn him, had an Irish Wolfhound called Pelagia or something. Lucky bastard. I’d bet he had a groundskeeper or someone looking after her. I’d bet a million dollars he never boarded the dog.
The man had lent me so much money. Was it because I was a potential weapon, or was there more to it? I didn’t know and didn’t care to find out. I was so over being controlled. Why he couldn’t be his own weapon? I had no real understanding of his reasons.
The university hallways were as crowded as a restaurant with zombie on the menu. Morbid jokes R us. My clothes in the locker were just a spare pair of jeans and two T-shirts. One lab experiment where a decapitated rat had squirted blood across my lab coat and down my collar had taught me that I needed extra clothes kept here.
The money in the kitty was only three fifty but it’d do. I closed the safe, then went and sat awhile in my office. Everything I regarded as my real life was going away. With all this, I was abandoning myself. Self-preservation, but it was so difficult. I wrapped my hands over my head, staring at my framed degree, at the photos of kids from my lectures. Sports days, kayaking with friends, stuff that was the concrete foundations of my soul. Gone.
I was strong enough to get by this. I would.
As I passed the one, complacent, security guard, I waved. I’d explained my errand. He was doing his rounds and possibly the only guard in the whole building.
The ballet flats made soft scuffing noises on the floor. The fluorescent lights seemed dimmer than normal. The doors seemed to stick. The bloody place echoed without people.
No matter where I went or what I did, I felt that creepy horror movie tingle. Just around the corner might be him, or this one, or that one. I made it down all the fucking uncrowded hallways and into the elevator and stood there tapping my keycard in my hand, as if having it ready was a six gun I could use on any intruder in the car park. If I screamed loudly would the guard hear me?
Hell no. The place was stories high and there might be a horde of serial killer clowns down there, and the only witness would be the cameras. Cue the evil violin music.
Making jokes to myself wasn’t helping.
To my relief, there was no one in the car park – just six or so cars and mine was close to the elevator. Heart slowing, I set out to traverse the five yards. Sprinting would be silly, despite how nervous I was.
Fuck Reuben. I’d thought Mister Black had cured me of fear but no, he’d only made me happier temporarily. I flicked the car opener and the Mazda blinked and bleeped at me.
Reuben deserved to die but Mister Black was going to have find another tool to execute him.
I double checked the vicinity before moving.
The metal of the door was still warm from the sun. And it didn’t open. Some days, my car was a little premature in relocking itself. I fumbled, turning the electronic car key to the button side.
Booking a train ticket on the internet was out, but I prayed I could get one at the station that’d at least get me miles out of Sydney. The car bleeped and blinked again and the door opened when I pulled. I tossed in my bag. I could get to Perth in –
I couldn’t move.
Except to blink. Tears leaked from my eyes as footsteps drew closer. The footsteps of more than one person.
I could see the steering wheel, feel the keys in my hand but I couldn’t turn to see...
I knew who was behind me.