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Authors: Michelle Mix

The Long Way To Reno

BOOK: The Long Way To Reno
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Chapter One

 

I took a seasonal
job at an online retailer fulfillment warehouse during its peak season. My
parents, whose home was my home after a failed stint at University of Nevada,
Reno, had grown tired of me and my material addictions and wanted me to take
over on adult responsibilities.

I only did it
because dad threatened to cut off my Xbox Live account. After a few weeks, I started
getting confidence in the independence I’d gained working here. There was
something about earning my own paycheck that motivated me – plus, dad stopped
nagging and even chipped in for a new manicure every week while I helped them pay
some of my bills.

With the New Year
approaching, I had plans for a relatively predictable future. I wanted to find
a new boyfriend to replace the one that had decided I didn't measure up to his
other girlfriends – I was going to find one that treated me like a Queen,
and who would shower me with endearments and attention because my looks and
value demanded it. I wanted
a manly man with muscle, attitude and money,
someone to take care of me through life
.

           I
needed a man to assure me of my worth, because men were easy – life was too
judgmental to beautiful girls. Also, at my age, I wasn't getting any younger,
or…perkier. So I needed to kick my plans into gear and find me a man.

I was on the third
level of the Gold labeled mezzanine on the second side of the warehouse when
the fire alarm went off. I stopped my frustrating attempt to scan a poorly
concealed vibrator and looked up at the flashing white lights, cringing at the
sirens that followed. With a pained sigh, I tossed the dildo into my nearly
filled tote and joined a couple of other workers that were on that level to the
stairway.

The warehouse,
miles in length and width, was comprised of concrete floors, and, depending on
the side, multi-level mezzanines. The second side had the most of these –
the first half was comprised of these five story high compartments that were
filled mainly with heavy pallets of tightly stacked items that were negotiated
to the floors by forklifts. Here and there were dedicated sections for
shipping, the docks, and another upper-level dedicated completely to packing
items for the keyboard happy customer. This was a big warehouse, with miles to
cover in ten minutes or less. So even exiting it due to a fire drill wasn’t an
easy task.

"Didn't we
have a fire drill last week?" this chick asked as she tossed her scanner
back towards the direction of her cart. It bounced from the tote to the floor,
to which she cringed as she made her way down the metal staircase. We could see
other workers abandoning their previous tasks to make their way to nearest
exits. The conveyer belts had stopped, so the blue and orange totes sitting
atop of them looked weirdly impatient.

"I VTO'd back
then, I don't know," I said, remembering how irritated dad was when I
showed up back in Reno, relieved for the time off.

'You must hate
money,' he'd said accusingly.

'No way, man!
M-A-C's got a new Johnny Weir collection out, I need the dough for some new
gloss!' I'd replied haughtily, but I was being serious. M-A-C's expensive.

"It's going
to be so cold," she continued, and I halted in mid-step, looking down at
my man-sized Halo tee that hung on me like a short dress, held in place by my
safety vest. It was often high temps in the warehouse, so I lacked a sweater or
jacket that would be extremely helpful in this sort of event. I cursed aloud to
myself as I remembered that Northern Nevada had been trapped in some sort of 5
degree overnight weather. I continued on with my shoulders drooping, falling in
line with the others that were making their way toward the exits.

Then I lifted my
head with some hope – I'd spied a couple of guys that were worthy of my
attention, and maybe this was the chance I needed to get close to them. Maybe
share some warmth with their manly bodies. I began to look forward to going out
into the cold, but then I registered the blockage in front of the door.

A security guard
wearing a flashy neon green jacket was shaking her head at a couple of the
older warehouse workers and explaining something in a mystified tone –
her handheld was going crazy with noise, but with the fire alarm going off, I
couldn't hear what was being said. I looked at everyone around me –
people wearing pajama bottoms and tees, shorts and sports logo shirts. Women
with their hair pinned back tightly, guys that smelled of B.O. and cologne. All
of them were looked annoyed and curious at the same time.

I was slightly
disappointed that my group lacked the guys I'd been eying, and busied myself
with wiping the area below my eyes, hopefully smearing away any fallen mascara
and liner. It was so difficult keeping my makeup in place with all this dirt
and grime going on here in the warehouse.  Sweat made it worse.

"I don't know
why the doors are still locked, but we're to stay
inside
!" the
security guard exclaimed, starting to sound impatient with the repeated
questions directed at her.

I wondered why she
gave such an answer when we were losing our jobs just standing there. It seemed
like she was making a big deal out of a stupid drill, so I didn’t understand
why the tone.

"So why the
fire alarm?" another guy asked, heavily irritated as he set his hands on
skinny hips and looked pissed. "Did someone pull it, or what?"

"They want us
to stay inside – something's going on out there in the parking lot, so
we're to stay put. Once they give me the go-ahead, I'll let you guys go,"
she said, but it was obvious to me she didn't even know why we were where we
were. I fiddled with the edge of my shirt, looking for a cute guy to pass the
time with.

"Did they
start laying people off?" I then asked a guy next to me.

"Probably.
Some guy going psycho in the parking lot," he contributed, slightly
humored by the prospect. Others, hearing our convo, relaxed. "If that's
all it is, we should, like, go back to work. He can't get in."

"Who can't
get in?" an older woman asked, overhearing and lurching over to hear more.
I winced at the smoke-smell of her, pulling away to give myself room. The
handheld crackled, and the security guard spoke in panic once more, but because
of this other lady, I didn't hear what she'd said.

"Oh, I was
just, like, joking. Y'know, layoffs?"

"They're
laying people off? I thought they laid off two shifts last week."

"It's about
time," someone else said, and I moved away, closer to the security guard
because everyone was distracted by the event of layoffs. Yeah, the temporary
season was over, but times were tough – a lot of these people were hoping
to be hired on permanently. I knew dad would take care of me if this happened
to me, so I wasn’t worried. I tried to sympathize with the people that looked
bothered, but it was hard to do so when I didn’t care about them. So I just
fiddled with my hair and wondered where all the cute boys were, scoping the
area hopefully for late-comers.

"I can't let
you go just yet," the security guard – Kara, I saw on her name badge
– said again, looking irritated at the same guy she'd been talking with
earlier. "They haven't cleared us. Once the manager gives the word, ya'll
have to stay here."

"Is there a
fire or something?" someone called out from the back of the group, and I
counted about thirty-some people gathered before this exit door. Temporary
workers, permanent workers – all of them with frustrated expressions. I
looked back at the warehouse – at the two sets of mezzanines with
multitudes of books and various items waiting to be picked. Machinery churned,
the fire alarm continued to screech. I winced at the blast of heat as I
maneuvered away from the group that continued to grow. I wanted to hear more of
what was happening, but the combined smells of people-funk were growing more
prominent. I lifted an arm and sniffed myself to make sure my Secret was still
working, and was satisfied.

"Something
going on outside?" another guy asked me. I didn't catch his name. It was
hard to hold onto names when people came and went so quickly at this warehouse.

"Yeah. I
dunno what," I replied, reaching up to unclip my hair. It was long and
gross - I hadn't washed it since my shift started two days ago. The warehouse
was so dirty, and there was no point in cleaning it if it was just going to get
filthy again. I hoped my eye makeup wasn't smeared, and pulled out my plastic
baggy – which was required to get through the security checkpoints
– and rummaged for my chapstick.

"So this
isn't a drill? What the hell, man?" he called out, venturing forward.

I watched people
argue with Kara, who was growing flustered. Smearing on my chapstick, I
wondered where the other guards were to dispel this rising mutiny. I thought I
heard a faint scream from somewhere in the warehouse. But I didn't pay too much
attention to it. People hollered all the time to be heard over the machinery. I
shoved my baggie into my back pocket, where it bulged uncomfortably.

Someone started to
cough, hacking up copious amounts of gross phlegm, and I gave a disgusted look
in that direction. A younger chick was excusing herself once she realized the
dirty looks being given to her, as people moved away to avoid her onslaught of
germs. Someone else started coughing, too, and I figured it was the amount of
dust that coated this warehouse – being in the desert with soft sand,
with machinery working all the time, the air did feel dirty and thick.

My throat did feel
a little sore, but I cleared it and felt fine. I spied the nearby water
station, and ventured towards it.

"You feel
that?" I heard someone ask as I retrieved a paper cup and filled it with
what I suspected was cooled tap water.

"What?"

"I swear to
God the floor was shaking."

"Like an
earthquake?"

How anybody could
feel anything in this concrete and steel jungle was something beyond my
attention. I savored my water while people started to blame the security guard
for pulling them away from their job. The fire alarm continued to scream, the
lights flashing, and I wondered how to maximize my newly acquired gear on my
male Spartan. Being female in the gaming world earned you really annoying 'Get
Back In The Kitchen' comments, and defending myself only took away from my
game. Playing as a male was so much easier.

Kara shushed
people and held her handheld up, so I stopped my noisy slurping of water to
hear the night manager screaming for people to run. At the panicked, girlish
shriek coming from a man that's six foot four and claimed to have been some
football star from some sort of big-name college, everyone just froze. Except
for the people that continued to cough and hack and stumble into other people.
I felt my eyes widen and my heart to do this weird stop thingy, wondering if
I'd heard right – there was another scream, and then more panic came from
the radio that caused much discomfort.

Whoa
, I thought, finishing off my water and looking at the
others. This must be a joke of some kind.

But everyone was
looking at each other with nervous and bewildered expressions, and the voices
in the radio flitted in and out; some with commands, some with unintelligible
jibber jabber. Kara looked absolutely clueless as she stared at her radio. I
really wasn't sure what to think – wasn't even sure what to do or say as
I dropped my paper cup into the trashcan.

One of the older
guys plowed past the security guard and shoved the door open – the blast
of cold air that swept inside was chilling. I definitely didn't want to be out there.
Bright flashes of light told me that the fire alarm was going on out there as
well, flashing over the full parking lot with sporadic energy. Well, I think
they were the fire alarm lights. Kinda weird how they stopped flashing and
settled instantly on the guy. He stopped short and looked up – his face
looked stunned as he continued to look up, like he was viewing the night sky.

Why would he do
that?

Before I could
continue that thought, a scream next to me jerked my attention from the chaos
at the door, and I realized I was watching the first coughing woman
biting
into another woman. I stared, not comprehending, even as liquid warmth sprayed
over the both of them and they tumbled to the floor. People stared, then looked
startled, and I was torn from looking at what was happening to the people that
were then trying to shut the door against the man that was screaming to be let
in.

I stepped back,
bumping against the water station, and realized that the chick fight happening
before me wasn't a fight at all – that first chick was literally snarling
and tearing into the second woman with hands and teeth. When she looked up as a
guy stepped towards her, her face was demented – covered in blood –
oh
God
it stunk – and her eyes had taken on this reddish black quality
that reminded me of Darth Maul. She growled –
growled
! –
like an animal warning away something trying to take its food. Her face
twitched and the man stepped back with a seriously confused stare.

More shouts told
me that the other hacker was lunging and clinging onto a taller older man, and
this caught the attention of the biter in front of me. She immediately lunged
forward and attacked the man from behind, and that's when people stepped in to
stop this madness, so it gave me time look over at the door. Kara was
screaming, four guys and a girl holding tightly onto a door that didn't want to
close.

BOOK: The Long Way To Reno
11.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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