Twisters

ALICE WATCHES THE NUMBERS above the elevator change slowly, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Perhaps she should have opted to take the stairs after all, if only she had worn her sensible shoes instead of these ridiculous ankle breaking ten-inch heels, she might have been halfway to the train station by now, and her comforting little home.  How she longed to climb into a warm bath and soak away the disappointment of the day. She had been so sure about this job and was absolutely certain that the interview was going well, that is, until it was interrupted. There was zero chance of working here now, not with the current owner dead in any case. Right in the middle of explaining her experience with accounting software, the door had exploded furiously inwards, revealing the silhouette of a man with a gun in his hand. Before anyone could react, he had fired, her interviewer slumping in his chair, blood fanning out across his starched white shirt.  Seriously, Alice shook her head in disbelief, and wondered briefly if she would appear on the evening news. That would be something! A ding heralded the elevators arrival and Alice stepped inside, grateful to find only one other occupant. Alice pressed the button for the ground floor and leant back against the wall, studying the man opposite her. “I know you”, Alice smiled, recognition flaring in her eyes. “You’re the man from the train yesterday, and the café this morning. It seems we keep running into each other lately, perhaps it is serendipity?”.  “Perhaps it is”, the man’s lips twitched momentarily. “I’m Caleb, if I’m not mistaken you were heading to a job interview, how did that pan out?”. “Not so well actually, but I have another one tomorrow so fingers crossed”, Alice answered, her usually upbeat voice sounding flat even to her own ears. She was exhausted, and starting to feel like death warmed up, she only hoped that she wasn’t coming down with something. She had back to back interviews lined up all week, she couldn’t afford to be getting ill now.  “Do you work here?”, Alice changed the subject, gesturing to Caleb’s brown leather satchel. “You could say that”, Caleb answered cryptically. “I’m a messenger, I’m here to collect a package”. They fell silent and Alice turned her attention to the numbers above the elevator doors. Fifth floor, fourth, third, second, first, and then finally, the ground floor. Before the lift had come to a complete halt Caleb turned to Alice and smiled kindly.  “You are my package Alice, I am the messenger for death, I have come to deliver you safely home”. Alice looked slowly down at her pale blue interview outfit, a bloody stain across her heart, surprise registering across her face. “The bullet didn’t just hit the man interviewing you Alice, it passed through you first”. Caleb took her hand gently as the elevator doors opened and tugged her forwards. “Come, there are people waiting to see you”.