Stasis (Part 2): Iterate by E.W. Osborne

Author:E.W. Osborne [Osborne, E.W.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2017-04-09T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

San Francisco, CA

June 25th

PENELOPE TYPED out a quick message to Joey.

I’m running a little late, sorry!

A moment later his reply dinged back.

Don’t worry about it! We’ll be here waiting for you. Love you!

She kicked her feet up on the desk and leaned back in the squeaky chair. She closed her eyes and dreamed of a life where she wasn’t constantly dancing around half-truths. Life had painted her into a corner and she was simply doing the best she could with the situation.

With a long sigh, she sat up and unfolded the piece of paper she’d kept concealed in her pocket for days. She’d managed to get smuggle the majority of things on Wesley’s list into her office. Bits here and there, stolen at odd hours of the day when no one was looking.

The hospital was quiet. After a full month of almost crippling patient numbers, fatigue had set in. But as things got back to normal, staff started to slack off here and there, not being as attentive as maybe they should’ve been. Luckily for Penelope, she could take advantage of the rest.

This night, like many others, she was avoiding going home. The trip to Tahoe had taken a lot of pressure off their relationship and the distance from work had apparently taken the target off her back. At least, she felt like no one was watching her too closely now that she was back to her normal workload. She still wandered the halls, but more times than not found herself walking down those corridors where they’d housed the catatonic. Those rooms had been refitted back to house a normal capacity.

As the clocked ticked close to midnight, she finally gave in and packed up, ready to head home. She took one final look at the list and stuffed it back into her pocket. If I can’t get these last things, I’ll just order them online. It’s nothing special, she thought.

Even the lot was quiet. Rather than call her car over, she enjoyed the walk to the end of the lot. The damp fog had come in thick from the bay, casting the world in an eerily soft light. She stumbled into the car and collapsed in a tired heap.

“Home,” she commanded, with her eyes shut.

It was the subtle, subconscious awareness that first tipped her off that something was wrong. The turns were wrong. The speeds were wrong. After a few minutes, her eyes fluttered open to see she was being whisked toward the Bay Bridge, the exact opposite direction of their house.

Penelope sat up straight and delivered her navigation to the car, thinking that maybe in her tired state she’d said something different. There was no familiar beep of acknowledgment.

“Go home. Go to 22nd and Clifftop.”

But nothing happened.

A coppery taste filled her mouth as she looked out the window. The car accelerated as it crossed the bridge, cruising along in relatively open lanes, unobstructed by other commuters. She moved to call Joey but stopped, not wanting to worry him just yet.

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