Page 50 of Evil Hearts

Tim gives a small, tired chuckle, not realizing the inner turmoil I am currently fighting. “I don’t know why you stay. I’m just waiting for my pension to kick in, but you…” He gestures toward the doors of freedom. “You could be out there, doing anything with your still young life.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. Could I do it? Leave everything behind and go out to find adventure? I know what my mom would want me to do, but how could I leave her memory behind like that? The sheer idea causes my heart to beat faster. In fear or excitement, I can’t tell.

It doesn’t matter anyway. The thought is just a fantasy. An impossible dream that has grown too distant to grasp.

“I’m fine,” I say, the words tasting like dust on my tongue. “It’s just… you know. Life.”

”Yeah. Life.” Tim nods, “But don’t forget to live that life, kiddo. You’ve got one shot at it. There are no redos. If you don’t, you might find yourself waking up and realizing the entire world has passed you by.”

My tongue is too big for my mouth, as the words die in my throat. His words echo around me as I stare at him, thinking about my mother. It’s like those words are a challenge, sparking something low in my belly. A reminder of everything I’ve lost, everything my mother would have wanted for me.

But I can’t let my mind follow that path, the truth too painful to bear. Another hour to go.

Tim smiles sadly before turning to leave, patting the counter in front of me reassuringly. I turn away from him, heart in my throat, as I clean another section of the counter I’ve alreadycleaned three times before. My mind wanders to the digital world waiting for me at home. There, I will be the hero.

But even as I go through the motions, Tim’s words have changed something within me. Maybe tomorrow I will start looking for my new adventure. Maybe tomorrow I can look for something real. Soft blue eyes stare back at me in the espresso machine’s glare. So much like my mother’s.

Tomorrow.

But for now, the clock ticks on. Another hour. Then, freedom.

Chapter Two

The storm outsidehas gotten worse as the last few minutes of my shift drag on. A relentless downpour whose only goal is to soak everything. Don’t get me wrong, the land needed the rain, or so the farmers say. But I know, as soon as I try to leave, the world will smell like wet concrete and old leaves, and the night will press down on me, sinking into my bones.

The thought of getting home, sinking into my cozy clothes, and losing myself in my game is the only thing keeping me going. A little bit of rain isn’t going to stop me.

I eagerly clock out, pulling the cotton hoodie over my head as I rush for the doors. The rain against the glass ceiling is louder now, a war drum beckoning me forward through the dimly lit mall. Everyone has long since gone home, giving me an eerie feeling as I hurry forward. I can’t help but envision eyes on me, trying my hardest not to freak out. Just a few more feet. A few more steps.

The parking lot sits empty, holding only my beat-up old car. It sits beneath the only working streetlamp, the light flickering dimly. Around me, the darkness of the storm rages on, making it difficult to see anything except my car. It’s as if it’s a beacon, leading me forward.

I jump a little bit, warming up for the mad sprint I’m going to need to run to make it to the safety of my car. Surely, the raincan’t be that bad, I gaslight myself. As mentally prepared as I’ll ever be, I step outside. My sneakers are soaked instantly, as I take off in a sprint.

My legs burn with the effort, not used to moving this quickly, but I remember reading an article about the faster you move in rain, the less wet you get, and I can’t slow down now. The rain stings against my skin, but I don’t care. Just one more stretch of concrete and I’m homeward bound.

In a last-ditch effort to not get completely soaked, though I’m already feeling it in my bones, I run as fast as I can. A slick spot on the concrete takes me by surprise and I begin to fall, cartwheeling my arms, trying and find traction, but it’s too late. The hard ground rushes up to meet me, the pavement biting into my knees as I land with a thud.

For a moment, I don’t move, my cheek pressed against the dirty ground. This is where my life ends. It’s all over. My clothes are completely soaked through, the puddle around me mixing with the blood from my knees. I groan, pushing myself up off the ground.

I’m panting as I make it the last few feet to my car, limping in pain. My heart is pounding out of my chest, but I can’t help but think it could have been worse. Someone could have seen me.

The inside of my car isn’t any warmer than the outside, but at least I’m not being rained on anymore. I fumble with my keys, dropping them onto my floorboard. My pants stick to the upholstery, but I manage to wiggle half off of my seat to grab them. My fingers are frozen as they shakily jam the key into the ignition.

I twist it…

Nothing.

”No… no… no…” I mutter, trying again and again.

The car groans and sputters to life before dying again. A wave of dread washes over me, as I bang my head against the steeringwheel. This can’t be happening. Not in the middle of the night, in the rain. My body aches and I just want to go home… I was so close.

I slam my hands against the steering wheel, over and over again as I let out a frustrated scream, the sound lost to the cacophony of the rain around me.

I let out a breath, slumping back against my seat. The cold settles over me like a blanket, chilling me to the core. I could call for help, sure, but who would even come? It’s not like I have friends to lean on. Tim? He is probably an hour into his nightly nap already. There’s no one I could trust in this desolate place.

My phone’s black screen mocks me as I try to call the city’s tow service. Dead. Of course, it is.

Through the rain, I can just make out the sound of footsteps. I twist around in my seat, squinting through the rain to find the source of the noise. Soft, deliberate, coming from behind my car.

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