She dialed the police and an operator came on almost instantly. “Yes, help, please send help” she breathed into the phone. “What? No, I was attacked by Fred.” 'Shit, what did Fred mean to an emergency operator? Get a hold of yourself!', she thought.
“Yes sir, he is still in the building. No, I am in my office with the door closed. Yes, you have it correct, the MAC building. First floor. No, I am all alone. No, all the doors to the outside are locked until seven thirty. The main entrance? You would need a key card, or someone to let you in. I don’t give a fuck I’m not leaving my office, tell them break one down. Yes, I understand but I’m telling you I’m not leaving”
Her whole body was sweating now, her heart was busy pumping blood to her vital survival organs, her head, arms and legs. With the phone still to her ear she reached across desk and snatched a Kleenex from the box.
Every muscle in her body froze. She could see Fred’s bloated pale face pressed against the pane of glass adjacent to her door. This design was standard for all MAC executives. It allowed them to have their door closed for privacy but still see into the common areas.
Fred’s eyes were completely swollen shut and yet his head still followed her every movement.
“Holy fucking shit! He is here! He is right here!” She yelled at the operator.
The door knob turned but stopped short of releasing the lock holding it. The door started to rattle in it's frame.
“Screw you, I’m not going to die talking to some asshole!” Nancy said as she slammed the phone down. The operator had all of her information and she wasn’t going to take a chance that the police would arrive in time or if they even could get into the building without someone letting them. She needed to find someone to let them in or better yet, bash the shit out of Fred.
She sat down behind her computer and brought up the company phone list while Fred continued to work at opening the door. Fuck. She never got in this early and had no idea who might be here. The phone list was alphabetical by department. Nancy skipped accounting and dialed the Budgeting departments main line. No answer. Contracts. No answer. Human Resources. No answer.
She didn’t know how long to let the phone ring before giving up. This was not working. She had to do something else. Wait. She turned from her computer and looked out the window scanning the parking lot for familiar cars. Near the front entrance she saw a black Honda Accord, it's lights flashed twice and the alarmed beeped letting the owner know that all was safe and secure. The owner then put the keys into his pocket and proceeded towards the front door.
Outside of her office one of Fred's hands twisted the doorknob enough to release the catch, the door swung open under his next flailing blow.
Nancy slammed her hands on her office window to try and get the Honda owner’s attention but he continued down the sidewalk not noticing. Quickly she released the lock on the window, it would only tilt out half way but it was enough for her to fit her head through.
“Help! You've got to help me!” She screamed out the opening.
This got Bob’s attention.
“What’s wrong? Where are you?” Bob yelled back.
“Hurry! H…”
Nancy disappeared back into the building, screaming as Fred pulled her inside.
Chapter 8
Amelia’s day had started off as any other, she headed in to the office early, to beat the seven am rush, stopping along the way to get her and Mr. Fitz Kirkpatrick, her boss, their favorite brews at a coffee shop. She was always reimbursed for the coffee and Fitz, let her charge her entire trip in to the company at thirty six cents a mile, plus the cost of the coffee to his expense account, a win-win for everyone. She liked Fitz, he knew she had gotten the job on both her ability to make order out of chaos and her trim, fit body that indicated Fitz was a player in the MAC company politics. He even took her on two company trips, she had been half expecting a pass or maybe a demand for a sexual favor, one she may or may not have declined, she was a free agent after all. Although Fitz was as old as her father, the man oozed charisma and charm. He never even made a play for her and after the first trip she decided she did indeed love him exactly how he was and their relationship grew closer in a father-daughter kind of way. He even reprimanded that guy Steve in front of everyone at the company holiday party, Amelia would never forget it, “Steve, back off, everyone is trying to have fun here.” With extra sarcasm on the ‘Everyone’, thinking of it still made Amelia smile.
The second trip with Fitz his wife had come along and she was trophy in her own right, but that is not all she was. In her Amelia discovered the woman behind the man in power, if anything she played politics more viciously than Fitz ever did and when she saw Amelia it took her about twenty seconds to decide to bring Amelia ‘into the fold’. The minor benefits soon followed and started added up, Amelia knew she was only attending college in the evenings because of Mrs. Kirkpatrick, the connections that woman had never ceased to amaze her.
Arriving at work Amelia dropped her purse into her desk drawer and headed into Fitz’s office after knocking softly once, their pre-arranged signal. She backed into his office using her behind to push the door open, as both hands were full of coffee then turned to put Fitz’s coffee on his desk, as she sat it down she froze. Kirkpatrick had blood on his arm, which was sitting on his desk at an unnatural angle. His dull eyes tracked her movement and seemed to focus on her in a strange way that made Amelia recoil in fear.
“Fitz…Fitz what happened, what is wrong. Oh my God I am calling an ambulance. Don’t die, don’t die!” Kirkpatrick slowly stood in his chair, the chair he had finally succumbed to undeath’s harsh embrace only twenty minutes before and started to climb over the desk towards Amelia, a groan escaping his throat.
Amelia back pedaled bumping into the door from his office and stammering, “Fitz…stay, st-st-stay right th-there, I ww-will call an ambulance and g-get you h-help.” Her voice shrunk to a whimper, “No Fitz, stop. Stop..”
Amelia turned and fled the office closing the door behind her. She then raced behind her desk and stood watching the door, somehow knowing Fitz would be trapped inside his office, knowing he could not open the door handle anymore, not in his condition. She squeaked out a cry worthy of a mouse when the handle slowly started to turn. Then ducked and hid under her desk, pulling her chair in as far as it would go after her. Thankfully her desk front went all the way down to the floor something she really liked as she could kick off her shoes when she was working during the day. Thinking of which brought to the fore front of her mind the fact that she was sitting uncomfortably on a spare pair under the desk, she maneuvered slightly to get them out from under her then froze when she heard the door swing open from Fitz’s office. She heard her former boss step-shuffle-step away from her, heading towards the hall and elevator and thought she was in the clear when the phone on her desk started ringing. Between rings she held her breath and listened for footsteps, they appeared to be heading back her way, mercifully the phone stopped ringing, “Praise the lord and voice mail too.” She thought hysterically to herself as she tried not to breath. The footsteps stopped a few feet from her desk. She heard the low grunts that Fitz had been making come from above her desktop, she heard the papers and ‘in’ box being shoved around and some paper and pens fell off the back of her desk, making her flinch, then the steps started to move away again. Amelia sighed quietly and relaxed, then jumped again as her hand got burned by the hot coffee cup she had somehow retained for her entire flight from Fitz’s office. Shrugging she took a sip. 'Fucking good.' She thought, 'This is the taste of life!' In that moment she felt more alive than she had in a long time.