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  Hard Choice

  Torn Apart Series

  Short Story

  C. A. Hoaks

  Copyright @ 2015 By Charlotte A. Hoaks

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to people or places, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgement -

  Without struggle we fail to notice when we have found true happiness.

  To my family, all my love.

  Hard Choice

  Mayhem reigned on the streets of San Antonio. It was no different on the thoroughfare in front of the small business center. Far from the Riverwalk and the tourist attractions of the city, vehicles blocked the building access and sidewalks in front of the office building. Cars, pickups and even a city bus had been abandoned amid the chaos of multiple crashes. The result was half a dozen roadblocks. Some accidents had only been fender benders while others left bodies barely clinging to life in the wreckage. That is until the undead found them.

  A woman in the fourth-floor office watched as the frightened people tried to escape the terror of the bloodied monsters chasing them. One by one the few remaining survivors fell prey to the dead. Their screams of pain penetrated the thin glass of the building’s windows loud and clear.

  “Oh, my God!” The dark-haired woman standing at the window gasped. Her face mirrored the horror of what she witnessed. She turned to a bleached blonde sitting at a desk across the aisle from the window.

  “That man has half his face gone, and his intestines are hanging around his knees. It’s like the Internet said, they have to be dead. Norma, we should have left with the others?”

  “We have that conference call with corporate in thirty minutes. We’re going to stay right here and take that call. The military can clean up this mess, Lynette?” Norma wiped at her smudged eye makeup. “They caused it and they have to fix it.”

  “It wasn’t the military. It was a terrorist attack on the base.”

  “Do you believe everything you read on the Internet?” She turned back to her computer and began pecking at the keys with her long acrylic nails. “You’ll need to adjust everyone’s timesheet in your group, and get it done before you leave for the day.”

  “We can’t stay,” Lynette argued. “Look what’s going on!”

  “If you leave, I’ll dock your timesheet.”

  “Well, I’m not staying. You can sit here adjusting timesheets or cowering in the closet, I don’t give a damn!”

  “I’ll fire you!” Norma threatened.

  Lynette forced a humorless chortle. “Fire me? Really?”

  Norma stood up and walked to the window and glanced down at the street. She tapped an acrylic nail on the glass. “Look at those crazy people attacking each other. You can’t leave any more than I can. Besides, I’m your boss and you can’t leave until I say you can leave.”

  “My boss?” Lynette shrugged. “That doesn’t mean squat now. I’m leaving.”

  She sat down at her desk and slipped her feet out of her heels. Pulling a canvas bag from under her desk, she retrieved a pair of jogging shoes. She placed the well-worn Niki’s on the floor and reached inside again for a pair of socks. She slipped on the socks and then stepped into the running shoes. She pulled the laces tight, tied the strings, and made a final knot with the loops.

  “I won’t let you leave me alone.” Norma declared.

  Lynette emptied the canvas bag of magazines, hairspray, curling iron and other grooming essentials. She dumped her handbag on the floor and sorted through the contents. She picked up her car keys, her wallet, half dozen wet wipes, a bottle of hand sanitizer, a knife with four-inch-fold-out blade, a handful of tissues, a sewing kit and a small bottle of Tylenol. She ran her hand through the pile of clutter one last time and picked up two safety pins and added them to the bag.

  When she was satisfied she had found everything of value, she stood up and glanced over her desk into the cube across the aisle. She spotted what she was hoping to find. A cane with a metal handle the fellow cube dweller had been given for his birthday the previous week. She wondered about the owner since he hadn’t made it into work that morning, but shrugged away thoughts of him and glanced around his office for anything else she could use.

  “You can’t take that. It belongs to Carl.” Norma protested.

  “Do you see Carl here?” Lynette asked. “He’s not here and won’t be coming back anytime soon, so I’m taking it.”

  Lynette walked past Norma and hurried toward the break room. She could hear the heavy set, bottle-blonde woman close on her heels.

  “What are you doing now?” Norma demanded.

  “Whatever I have to do to get out of this mess.”

  Lynette walked past the vending machines to the supply closet, raised the cane and slammed the heavy metal end down on the cheap door knob. The metal knob shattered and fell to the floor in a clatter of pieces. She stepped inside the small supply closet and emptied a box of power bars into the canvas bag hanging across her body. She threw in packages of nuts, and all the dried fruit mix from another box. She added three bottles of water, tested the weight and grabbed another. With the last one settled in the bag, she tore open a power bar and ate it in two bites.

  “That’s stealing!” Norma protested. “You have to pay for that. It comes out of petty cash, and I have to balance at the end of the month.”

  Lynette settled in a chair at the table and opened a bottle of water. When the bottle was half empty, she set it on the table. “I know you’re having a problem with accepting this situation, but I’m not sitting here and waiting for help that won’t ever come. The infected will either get in or we’ll run out of food. You can come with me or stay, up to you.” She got to her feet. “If you want to leave, be ready when I come out of the bathroom.”

  Finishing the remaining water, she tossed the bottle in the recycle bin. She turned and left the break room heading for the bathroom. After using the toilet, she stood at the sink and looked into the mirror. Can I leave Norma? The woman was a miserable person most of the time, but could she leave her alone if she refused to come? She’d have no choice, right?

  After splashing water on her face, Lynette wiped the droplets away with a handful of rough paper towels. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder, picked up the cane, and pushed the door open.

  Norma stood in front of the opening. “You can’t leave me.”

  Lynette stepped around her and answered. “I’m not staying.”

  “Then you have to take me with you. I rode the bus.”

  Lynette looked at Norma’s feet crammed into spike heels with pointed toes. “You won’t make it twenty feet with those shoes.”

  Norma sniffled. “I don’t have any other shoes.”

  Lynette sighed. “Then find some. Check every cube.”

  While Norma went from cube to cube looking for shoes, Lynette walked up to Norma’s desk and grabbed the huge bag she used for a purse. She turned it upside down.

  The contents spilled out on the floor in a messy pile and a weighty thud. Lynette brushed away a pile of tissues and saw a handgun. She picked up the .38, checked the load then dropped it into her own bag. After sorting through the rest of the clutter she found a small box of ammunition and dropped it in her bag as well.

  By the time Norma reappeared, Lynette had added supplies to the big purse similar to her own in addition to a knife from the break room. It was a large cheap blade that had been left behind after a celebration or office gathering a few months ago.
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  “What are you doing with a gun, Norma?” Lynette pulled the .38 from her bag.

  “Oh, was that in there? Before my husband died, he bought it for me when I started working late.” She shrugged. “I forgot about it. I’ve only fired it twice.”

  “Then I’m keeping it,” Lynette announced and looked at a ragged pair of jogging shoes in her hand. “Get the shoes on then we’re leaving. You can carry this knife.” She slammed the stuffed bag into Norma’s chest.

  Norma slumped on a chair, kicked off her heels and stepped into the shoes. “I’ll probably get athlete’s foot. These belong to the new kid with red hair. He’s always covered in scabs or something.”

  “That was psoriasis. Now shut up and get the shoes on or I’ll leave you.”

  “You can’t, I’m your manager.” Norma snorted.

  Lynette stopped and turned to face Norma. “There’s no more piss-ant company. You’re nothing to me and if you threaten me again, I’ll leave you here and not look back. Am I making myself clear?” Norma whimpered, but Lynette continued. “And pop off those ridiculous nails before we get outside so you can use that knife to protect yourself.”

  Lynette turned away and headed for the office door. Behind her, she could hear the first acrylic nail snap from Norma’s finger. She sniffed and gasped at the pain of removing each of the remaining unnatural claws.

  “You don’t have to be so mean.” Norma whimpered.

  “Remember the way you treated people around here