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Part 1-9: Office
I pulled the blanket tighter and stared at the screen, shivering. The others talked. The weight shifted on the couch, then Deluxe’s head swam before me. She gave me a little shake.
“Fuh?” I said.
“I said, the boys are going to bounce now. Maybe swing by the building on their way home. Figure we check it out tomorrow for clues.”
“You’re going there?” I said, looking between Dack and Fergus. They were standing now. I felt tiny and alone all by myself on the couch. It dawned on me that at some point, I’d have to lie down in my bed and turn off the lights. Willy probably wouldn’t hide in the closet or anything; he would just be there all of sudden, the moment it got quiet, the moment Deluxe drifted off to sleep.
“It’s sort of on the way,” Dack said. “We can get our cabbie to take a little detour. See if anything’s amiss.”
I was certain that we shouldn’t split up. Maybe it was some inborn instinct I’d absorbed from watching horror films, maybe it was because I was a terrible coward. All I knew was that it was powerful enough that my mouth spit out the idea before I’d really understood what was implied.
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
“Of course you are,” said Fergus, who already had his shoes on.
“I need to change. ‘Luxe?” I forced myself off the couch and went to my room. My roommate bounced after me.
“Again, off-pattern,” she said. “I’d expected we’d be spending the night glued to the couch, fending off psychological torment. Instead, into the belly of the beast!”
We reached my room. “Best first date ever, right?” I said.
“He’s a catch; he knew syncopal episodes! But for real, Miss Bisk, what is buzzing in your brain? We can investigate tomorrow.”
I rummaged around for comfier clothing, trying not to think about anything too hard. Deluxe’s questioning was not helping. “We can, but like you said, we don’t know when this could happen again. And I am not going to be sleeping at all tonight, so might as well be productive, right?”
“Stay moving, stay in control. Alright. I’ll bring some sensory equipment.”
She grabbed my door handle.
“Deluxe!”
“Hm?”
“Wait for me to change.”
She did, then we went to her room and collected some gadgets. The guys were waiting near the door for us, and waited further as Deluxe ran her Lobster check, caging or separating those who needed it. Fergus’ expression was neutral; perhaps he’d resigned to our general insanity.
Dack was chipper. “Here’s an idea,” he said. “We’ll get a cab to mine, then switch to my car. That way you don’t have to worry about a ride back in the middle of the night. Plus, I’ve got some equipment that may be of use.”
“And several beers, several beers are required,” said Fergus.
“I don’t plan on drinking,” I said.
“Oh no, they’re for me.” He actually grinned.
Soon we were in a cab, then at another condo building’s parking garage, then in Dack’s car. Deluxe rode shotgun and chatted with Dack about the best ways to burn a building down. Fergus made good on his promise and retrieved a six-pack. We sat in the backseat, me silent and him crouching low and sipping on a can.
I watched the night lights blur by, waiting for some sort of dread to settle in. Instead, I was restless. I could only find the terror if I thought about being alone, and that was hard to do in a car full of people, bright with Deluxe and Dack’s laughter. The rumble of the engine coaxed my exhaustion, inviting me to let my eyes rest. I fought it off by remembering the name of the building. Little chills wiggled up my back.
“Bannerman Drive,” said Dack.
The street was empty, save us. Cruddy buildings lined one side: old, charmless hulks whose lights glowed ocher, their march interrupted by the occasional pockmarked street or dirty convenience store. The other side opened up into an unlit park. Street lamps offered a preview of unkempt greenery before the darkness swallowed it. Seeing this, I was grateful that we’d taken Dack up on his offer of a car—being dropped off here in a cab seemed like a wonderful way to get yourself raped or killed.
Fergus cracked a can and slurped. “Great neighbourhood. Very affordable. Don’t recommend it for a new restaurant however.”
Dack pulled over in front of our destination. Deluxe popped out, holding a thick tablet. The rest of us joined her on the sidewalk, looking up at the John B. Zachary Business Center. It was an old, abandoned office building. There were some boards over the first and second storey windows. Graffiti covered it like acne.
“No read on the network. No read on anything. Boring,” reported Deluxe.
Fergus crumpled his can, tossed it into a little pile of trash at the building’s edge, and cracked another. “Well, let’s see what’s in there, why not!”
“Something sent that network signal. There must be a box,” said Deluxe.
“Let’s go around the side then,” said Dack. He popped the trunk and collected a flashlight and crowbar.
I peered at the windows, trying to convince myself that this was a bad idea. I hoped to see a face, a flash, anything. It was a bad idea to trespass, but the firefighter escort and Deluxe’s array of hardcore equipment lent me confidence. Even Fergus’ intoxicated enthusiasm was encouraging. If Willy was lurking in there, we’d be able to handle him, and I’d be able to go back to fretting about normal things like how to make a living.
I followed the little crew down a thin alleyway so Dack could pry open a side door. Nothing supernatural warned me or hinted that I should let it be. Sometimes I wish it had.
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