Page 2 of Marked By the Broken Orc
I need to know more about who beat me out for this job. This isn’t over.
I settle onto my couch with my laptop, searching for information about the new hire. Who did they choose instead of me? It doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for. “Dammit,” I exclaim. They’ve hired someone named Kavin Irontree, age twenty-nine, as the first orc firefighter in our town’s history.
An orc? Who is this guy?
I stare at the screen, reading the brief article about his hiring. No photograph, no mention of his qualifications, his experience, nothing that would explain why he deserved the position over me. Just that he’s “integrating orc expertise into emergency services.”
I close the laptop and stare off into the middle distance. Did I just lose my job to some entirely unqualified, mediocre guy? No effing way. A growl rumbles in my throat.
I need backup. I need my people.
First, I call my sister, Corinne, to see if she can come over and commiserate with me, but it goes straight to voicemail. Right, she left today, gone for the next few weeks, working in Seattle on some project for her employer.
Plan B.
I scroll through my contacts and start making calls. Jessica first, my fellow EMT who understands the pressure of this job. Then Carmen from the gym, who’s seen me fight and knows what I’m capable of. Finally, Riley, my National Guard sister who’s had my back through two deployments.
We’ve all hung out together before, through good times and bad. “Emergency friend gathering,” I tell each of them. “Bring alcohol. I’ll explain more when you get here.”
I don’t usually have drinking parties at my home, and I don’t get drunk and complain about my problems. I like to handle things on my own, always have. But this feels like a crisis requiring reinforcements.
In my cabinets I find one unopened bottle of red wine from last New Year’s that I never opened. Not enough for a proper pity party so I order more through a delivery app.
They’re all set to arrive in a few hours, after they get off work. This gives me enough time to finish my face mask and do an emotional rewatch of my favorite movie of all time,Pride and Prejudice.
Four hours later,my doorbell rings. I’m still in the same loungewear but now my skin looks terrific, my hair is long and loose and I’m even sporting a bit of makeup. “Thank god they’re here,” I mutter, checking the peephole before opening the door.
Jessica stands on my doorstep with Carmen and Riley behind her, all three carrying bags that definitely contain alcohol and food.
“This really sucks,” my friend offers the moment I let her. “How could you not have been hired? You were perfect for that job.”
“Jess told us what happened, and she’s right, it sucks ass,” Carmen comments.
“Who do I need to beat up for you?” Riley questions.
I laugh as I close the door behind them, feeling better already.
My friends settle onto my couch and chairs while I provide details about the job rejection and the orc with zero qualifications that was hired instead of me. Their reactions are everything I hoped for—outrage, disbelief, and immediate declarations that the whole system is rigged.
“You’re the most qualified person in this entire town,” Carmen says, opening a bottle of white wine. “This is complete bullshit.”
“What do you know about this Kavin guy?” Riley asks, ever the strategist.
“Nothing. That’s the problem.”
“Then we need to find out all we can about him,” Jessica says, pouring wine into the mismatched glasses I’ve provided. “But first, we drink.”
I’m not much of a drinker normally but tonight calls for exceptions. The wine goes down easier than expected, and before long we’ve moved on to shots of tequila. My apartment, usually pristine and quiet, fills with laughter and increasingly loud conversation.
“You should march into that station tomorrow and demand answers,” Carmen declares, her voice getting louder as the alcohol takes effect.
“Maybe I just need to move to a bigger city where there’s more open positions,”
I mutter. “I don’t need to work here. I could move to Seattle or Portland to find the job I want instead.”
“No,” they wail. “You need to stay with us here, in Spokane.”
“You were born and raised here,” Carmen points out. “Your sister lives here.”
