All or Nothing

by Stuart Keane

  Yep, definitely the boss’s desk, Kathryn thought.

  Typical company strategy. The boss can work offsite anywhere they want to, but the minions have to come to the office every day, like drones. Kathryn knew the system well.

  She knew it well because this was her office.

  But it couldn’t be. There was no feasible way it was possible.

  But she knew it was. The feel, the layout. The familiarity.

  Her office was located miles across town from her home. The road outside this place, with the damaged theatre, and the half-naked crazed psychos, most certainly were not sights she passed on her daily commute to work. And this building, from the outside, was not the building she came into every day.

  Yet here she was now, standing in her office. From the bulky out-of-date printers to the photos on the desks, all exactly in their normal places. It was as if someone had ripped the office out of one dimension and put it here. Yet Kathryn knew she wasn’t taking part in an episode of Star Trek. This couldn’t be happening.

  Kathryn placed the shoulder bag on a desk. After getting her bearings, she took another sip of Coke and headed towards the rear of the room. The door she’d entered from allowed her to come into the room from the dead centre. The room was an L shape and the door she was currently near to was in the heart of the L shape itself. Towards the rear of the room was her desk. She had to see it for herself, only then would she know if she was mistaken. A lot had happened tonight, she could be imagining things - Kathryn tried to rationalise what was happening: there had to be a thousand offices which had this type of interior layout. She walked across the room.

  It suddenly dawned on her that the room was empty. Normally her office would be bustling with activity: people on phones chatting to their customers, managers holding meetings in corners of the room, the occasional person texting on their phone, in contravention of company rules. It was common for people to consume unhealthy amounts of various energy drinks. In other words, a typical office environment. None of these scenarios were being acted out today and, as a result, the place seemed very eerie.

  Kathryn sidled up to her desk, aware, but not altogether certain, that she was alone. When she reached it she stopped in shock.

  Her everyday workstation was here. In every lavish, personalised detail. Her wireless keyboard and mouse were there. Her photo of France was sitting at its usual angle, facing her chair, but not angled enough to allow the light from the window behind to shine on it and blind her. Her binder, complete with various video game stickers and logos, was on her chair. The chair itself was tucked under the desk. Everything was complete. Everything except one thing.

  She bent down and lay down on her back, then slid under the desk and looked underneath. One boring day, she remembered that she had used a permanent marker to graffiti on her desk. She had been under there organising her cables, and checking that her new keyboard and mouse worked. And while thus occupied, she had drawn on the underside of the desk, despite feeling it was a juvenile thing to do. She’d done it because, at the time, it had seemed a cool thing to do. She had stencilled her initials in a little cross. It was a small detail, but it was important to Kathryn.

  Such a small detail hadn’t been noticed by whoever had set up this ‘facsimile office’. It seemed this office was either someone’s attempt at a copy, or else this was a bad dream. This ‘someone’ had tried to emulate her personal life and was trying to toy with her: to prod her, as if they were poking a bear. Kathryn felt like a guinea pig in a sick experiment.

  And she didn’t like it!

  Kathryn sat on her chair and tapped her keyboard. After a few seconds her monitor lit up and the sign-in screen prompted her for a password. She started to type and hit enter. Seconds later the PC started to log her in.

  Kathryn stretched her arms on the desk. She laid her head in them and wanted to scream. This whole situation didn’t make sense. Doppelganger offices and crazy psychotic lunatics chasing her? Being locked in a cell that wasn’t even locked? It just wasn’t normal activity for anyone. If someone had created a detailed copy of her office they had gone to a lot of painstaking effort. The ambience of the place was very authentic, down to the smell of toast from the break room to the smell from people’s coats hanging on the back of their chairs.

  It was her office, but it wasn’t. She thought that maybe someone had switched the desks around. It had happened before. But then that didn’t explain the different entrance, the entire building being somewhere other than the workplace she was used to: even the reception area was different. None of this made any sense.

  What the hell was happening?

  The Windows programme’s familiar chime signalled that her computer was starting up. She looked up and waited for her browser to open. She was used to waiting. This had been how her mornings had started every day for three years so far. She counted once, that it had taken her PC seven minutes to fully prepare for the day. Finally logged in, she opened her browser and tried to surf Google. Nothing happened. No internet connection was detected. Strike two against the ‘continuity chiefs’ here. Unable to go online, Kathryn then logged off. A noise distracted her.

  Had it come from this room?

  The window shattered behind her. A hail of glass showered her back, sending her reeling from the chair in panic. Three seconds later one of the psychos leapt through the opening. The wind blew the blinds inward violently, the slats becoming entangled. The new arrival pushed them aside and leapt at Kathryn. She backed up to another desk.

  The man paused, surveying the scene.

  Remembering her four pursuers in the jeep, she recognised him as the one with the greasy long hair and acne. His eyes were pinned on her, the man licked his lips in anticipation of what he was going to do to her. He had a baseball bat adorned with nails strapped to his side with a crudely tied black belt, which hung harmlessly behind him. He was naked apart from the belt and a pair of Nike shorts. Judging by the loose pull chord, these had once been white, but were now a hue of orange and brown. It was clear that they hadn’t been washed in some time. His body was etched with various tattoos, as if an infant had been given free rein to scribble on him with a biro. It was the same for his arms, which were skinny while the muscles were toned. The scribble of the tattoos emphasised his gaunt appearance.

  His gaze followed Kathryn. His eyes were bloodshot.

  Kathryn stared back. She was poised, ready for anything.

  He smiled, his yellow crooked teeth, many of them missing, looked like the damaged keyboard of a cheap piano. His tongue probed the toothless gaps hungrily. His face was scarred from virulent acne. Several whiteheads peppered his chin. One had burst, a stream of dark pus coursing down his chin, which had congealed in his stubble. His eyes were crazed.

  Kathryn wasn’t an expert, but she guessed that he was high on some drug, possibly heroin. He bobbed from side to side in excitement, the drug-induced high making him twitch. His hair didn’t move at all, stuck flat against his head as it was with days of grease and dirt. His left ear was missing, a depression in his skull marking where the ear had been crudely removed. Folds of skin served as a reminder of the missing body part.

  Kathryn thought she might vomit. Instead she stared him down.

  “Purt’ lady! You mighty fine! I could lick those titties all day long!” the awful creature said to her.

  Kathryn didn’t respond. She remembered seeing a documentary on psychosis once. At the time she had thought it had been a load of shit. The expert had said that engaging with someone with a psychosis was a recipe for danger. She tried to think back to the documentary she had so readily mocked. Being in this situation had changed all her perceptions, for now she had no alternative experts to tell her what to do. She continued looking at the man.

  He took a step forward. Drool now formed on his lips. “Wha’ ya say, sweet cheeks! Fancy a fuck? I bet your pussy tastes lurvlyyyy!”

  She backed up a bit more, but realised a desk blocked her way.
To advance she would need to go sideways or turn away from the beast in front of her to find her path. She didn’t want to do that. Sideways was the only option. She started edging away from the desk.

  And walked straight into the huge black guy with the bulging tiger-striped thong: one of the other three men in the jeep. She literally smashed into him, as if he was a wall, her head bouncing off his pectoral muscles. He was about a foot taller than her, just standing there looking down at her. From her low angle, his face was partially hidden by his gigantic pectoral muscles. There was a huge grin on his face. She could feel his bulging genitals poking her in the ribs. Kathryn stood, dazed and dumbfounded.

  Then he hit her. Hard. Kathryn flew across the desk with a crash. She slid along its smooth surface and fell off the end. The monitor, keyboard and cables wrapped around her arms as she fell to the floor in a heap. Stationery rained around her on the floor until everything was still. Her face was throbbing with pain.

  “Yeah! What a strike! Genghis, you are a fuckin’ monster, dude! Right on!” yelled the tattooed man.

  “Shut up, Boyd,” the black man replied.

  Kathryn knew she was in severe danger. She stood up, kicking the cables from her legs and arms. She put her finger to her nose and realised that her face was bleeding. The man’s fist must have been the size of a frying pan. She knew she was lucky to be conscious. She didn’t want to imagine the alternative.

  Boyd was standing on her desk, looking for her - or waiting for her to emerge. Genghis hadn’t moved. He simply cracked his huge knuckles. Staying below the desk, Kathryn worked out a plan. She remembered the hammer from reception. It was in her bag behind Genghis, on the desk alongside her Coke. Somehow she needed to make it past him unscathed. Taking another hit would be suicide, but she needed her weapons.

  Kathryn slowly rose from below the desk. Boyd saw her move.

  “Hahaha, there she is…That’s what you call a bitchslap, biyaaaatch!”

  He did a small dance on her desk and kicked the monitor. It flew through the shattered window and the cable pulled out taut behind it, she heard it smash against the wall outside on its way down. She’d loved that monitor.

  Kathryn wiped the blood from her nose and edged sideways. Genghis followed her with his eyes. He still didn’t move. In the distance, Boyd still danced on her desk. Other objects flew against the walls as he kicked them in celebration. Genghis swivelled now, his whole body facing her.

  He was a huge mountain of a man, his muscles were like slabs of concrete, and the veins like cables strapped to poles. She noticed his tiger thong again. He didn’t have an erection anymore. Probably had issues with that, considering the drugs fuelling his bloodstream. His thighs were so huge that they pressed against one another. He had a bodybuilder’s physique, but she knew he hadn’t built it the hard way. She knew she could use this fact to her advantage.

  Aware that it could be a risky move, Kathryn decided that she had to somehow draw him away. But would her idea end badly?

  “Hey…hey, fuckface!” she yelled.

  Genghis stared at her.

  “Yeah you, Godzilla, what gives you the right to slap a woman? You get off on it? Make you feel like a man, does it?”

  Genghis shifted towards her. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “Yo, whore, don’t you address me like that. I’ll break you in half!”

  “Address? My God, we have a scholar in town. You’re welcome to try breaking me in half–”

  Kathryn undid the top two buttons of her shirt, revealing her ample cleavage. She could feel the man’s eyes burning into her. “You want to break me in half? I always heard that you guys have the biggest dicks. I hope I can take it.”

  Genghis strode towards her. Kathryn could tell he was aroused, his thong didn’t have much swing left in it.

  “I’m going to fuck you up, bitch, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

  Perfect.

  Until Kathryn saw Boyd flanking her to the left.

  She would have to time this perfectly.

  Genghis lunged at Kathryn. She dodged his advances. The man’s bulk and momentum made it impossible for him to change direction. He continued, crashing hard into the wall Kathryn had leant against earlier. Kathryn stepped past him and jumped across to the pink bag. She snatched it up and swung it onto her shoulder.

  Boyd was preparing to leap. He had stopped beside his friend, who was now recovering. The white man climbed up onto a desk and jumped across to the next. He was attempting to leap from desk to desk, so as to land on top of her. Kathryn saw her opportunity. She kicked the desk in front of her as hard as she could. It slid across the floor effortlessly. Caught mid-leap, Boyd’s foot stepped into nothing as the desk moved away and he came crashing down face first. His head bounced off the next desk with a snap.

  His body jack-knifed and he collapsed to the ground in a heap. Genghis was still down. Kathryn saw her chance and hoped it would work. She backed out to the stairs. The double doors had a dead bolt, meaning that when they were closed you could only open them from the side she was on. She slammed the doors and heard them lock shut. Essentially the men were trapped.

  Adios, fuckers.

  Kathryn ran up the stairs two at a time. She hoped the rest of the building was a copy of the place where she worked. It would make things a lot easier.

  ***

  Bravo, the man watching Kathryn’s exploits on his monitor, had no words. He knew the chick had balls. Bigger balls than some of the men he knew. How she had eluded both of those guys was beyond him. It had been fucking exciting TV, though. He really fancied his chances after this. With a gutsy heroine, he couldn’t lose.

  The high from his E was kicking in. Anytime now he would be euphoric. He couldn’t wait. ‘The Game’ gave him goosebumps, but doing it high on E? That was for true men. He did a little dance right there on the floor.

  Crashing against the desk, Bravo knocked his drink over. The amber liquid spilled into his keyboard. The ice hit some of the keys, its weight pressing them down. Nothing happened for a second. Then he saw icons popping up all over his screen. He tried to read them, but they were appearing too fast. He was able to read the last one, though.

  Shit!

  Fuck!

  Nooooo!

  He pulled the Blackberry from his pocket and dialled a number. Within seconds he had an answer.

  “Yeah, we have a problem…No, my system malfunctioned. I didn’t order any of those…What? You can’t undo them? How can you not have that ability? Fucking undo them! What? Okay…So how much is that going to cost? You’re fucking kidding me? Yeah, thanks for nothing.”

  Bravo hung up.

  His plan had been well formulated. Originally he had wanted Phase One, then Two, then a pause, Phase Three, Phase Four and then Five. He had currently been on Phase Two: Seek and Destroy. That plan was no longer relevant. His whole plan had been fucked up.

  “You fucking moron!” he said to himself.

  No one could survive a phase alone. The chick had done it so far, but she had scraped by. Two phases down. The easier two. There was no way she could survive Phase Three. Let alone Phases Three and Four combined.

  His gutsy heroine would be dead in a matter of hours.

  He had lost.

  He necked some bourbon from the bottle and threw it against the wall.

  Game over!

  TWENTY-ONE

  His lips caressed hers, soft, gentle, eager. She kissed back and bit his bottom lip playfully. Then their kiss was more urgent. He ran his hands through her hair and pulled her against his body. She felt his muscles firm against her chest. His body warmth drove her crazy.

  She wanted him.

  He wanted her.

  Kieran laid Heather down on the ground, removing her jumper, and started to kiss her stomach. He loosened her trousers and lowered them, exposing her smooth, perfect thighs. He ran his fingers along her inner thighs, stroking the soft skin and stopped before moving back down her leg. Heather m
oaned, aching for more. She lifted his top and ran her fingers along his pectorals and abs. His body was perfect, granite. She grabbed him and pulled him close, digging her hands into his back.

  The young man caressed her breasts and kissed her on the lips. She couldn’t take any more foreplay, and hurriedly pushed his trousers down, their skin touched, jolting them in unison. It was electric. She knew he was inches from her. He was throbbing between her fingers. She looked him in the eyes and breathed hard. She guided him inside her using her fingers. They kissed as he thrust, deep and easy. There was no resistance. Heather gasped and screamed. Deep inside her, she clenched her pelvic muscles, hoping to feel every inch of him. She moaned louder now, close to orgasm. Kieran moaned in her ear as he thrust hard and they both climaxed simultaneously. She moaned loudly and they collapsed in a sweaty heap.

  Minutes later Heather rolled over. She laid on Kieran’s chest. She fondled his chest hair. The moment was perfect. She closed her eyes, hoping it would last.

  “Heather…Heather?”

  Heather opened her tired eyes. Kieran was standing in front of her, shaking her shoulder.

  “You awake?”

  Heather sat up. Her blanket still covered her. She took a second to recollect and blushed furiously. The whole thing had been a dream. A vivid, realistic, erotic dream. She patted her chest, her thighs, feeling their warmth and slickness.

  “You okay? I’m making some breakfast, just wondered if you fancied some?”

  Heather looked at Kieran. Those eyes nearly melted her. For the first time, she realised she was attracted to him. She knew she couldn’t give way to such feelings. It wasn’t something she could accept because she needed to remain focused.

  “Erm, yeah, some bacon and eggs please…I need a few minutes, okay?”

  “Sure, take all the time you need. Remember we leave soon though, so we need to pack up.”