Iris approached the passenger side of the dark sedan and opened the front door to greet the driver. He was a stone-faced man with a ridge of harsh, thick brows and sunken cheeks. If Iris had to guess, she’d say he was in his mid-fifties, judging by his salt and pepper hair that was gelled back into oblivion, which added to his already severe appearance.
“Good morning, sir. Thank you for picking me up.” Iris smiled at him, all warmth and friendliness. “May I sit here?”
The chauffeur remained silent, only nodding at Iris for her to be seated. They departed wordlessly from the parking lot, with only the sound of turn signals ticking to echo throughout the interior. After what felt like forever in awkward silence, Iris got her nerve up to try speaking with the driver again.
“My name’s Iris, what’s yours?”
“Salvatore,” the man sighed and continued driving without much more than a passing glance for Iris. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to sit in the back seat, ma’am?”
“Oh, this is perfect, thank you, sir.” Iris assured him. “I get car sick really easily, so I’m glad you’re here and taking such good care of me. Thank you.”
He could tell she was anxious, so Mr. Salvatore allowed Iris to ramble on as he listened silently through the morning traffic. Iris would ask him questions and try to engage with him, which admittedly helped the time pass quicker. She managed to learn that he was formerly the driver for the Cavendish family, but now worked exclusively for Alden Cavendish, the eldest son.
Salvatore had spent the better part of twenty three years with the singularly difficult Barbara Cavendish, and was unaccustomed to sharing the front seat with anyone remotely friendly. He did have a certain fondness for Alden and his little brother, who used to call him “Uncle Sal” when they were children.
“Really? Mr. Cavendish called you that?” Iris smiled brightly at him. “I can only imagine him turning up with scraped knees and a handful of toys, calling out for you. Was that how it was?”
He warmed up significantly as the commute progressed, sharing stories of when the boys were little, and how they liked to cause all kinds of mischief at the house. By the end of their drive, he found himself looking forward to picking her up for the return journey. They appeared in front of the GC&S building, just as a gaggle of her coworkers arrived to use the western entrance.
“Thanks again for the ride, Mr. Salvatore!” Iris called back to him after exiting the luxury sedan. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
Iris glanced around for any signs of the stranger who had attacked Khazmine last night, but she only saw a number of the Tech Center specialists and a few of the ladies she used to work on the weekend phones with. Among them was Claire Donovan, bragging about her latest gossip and standard, empty-headed nonsense. Iris tried to ignore it on the way to the elevator, but found herself eavesdropping when a familiar name came up.
“…Exactly. It’s been so dull around here without Mr. Dämmerung to pay us a visit. I heard he’s due to come back on Saturday.” Claire’s shrill voice filled the cramped elevator and grated against Iris’s nerves. “I hope he drops by a little early…”
Iris shuddered at the thought of Ryan Dämmerung returning to GC&S, and of what terrors he would rain down on her for getting him in trouble nearly two weeks ago. With any luck, Mr. Maker would keep her so occupied that she wouldn’t have time to cross paths with him, but it still left a foul taste in her mouth, just thinking about it.
It was a brutally busy day at GC&S, with Iris frantically struggling with staying on top of the influx of projects and paperwork heaps from every direction. The interns rallied around her solitary workstation to help with invoices and delivery tickets, but it was still an uphill battle. It wasn’t until late afternoon that Iris discovered that Mr. Cavendish had taken the day off to recover at home, which explained the increased frenzy around the office. In her brief, idle moments, Iris couldn’t help but miss seeing his face around the C-suite, before she hurried from one task to another.
In Mr. Cavendish’s absence, the Finance and Production departments ran amok with errors, roadblocks, and miscommunications. Without the office manager to keep everything running smoothly, Iris found herself swamped with extra tasks, rework, and angry phone calls. She wished Mr. Cavendish a speedy recovery, not only for his own sake, but for everyone in the office as well.
Khazmine slowly opened her weary eyes on a humid, sticky afternoon with a blast of sunlight through the living room blinds. She was still perched on the wooden stool next to the baseboard wall socket, with her long tendril snugly fitted into the power terminals. Several warning messages flashed in front of her eyes, indicating which systems were in most need of repairs. In the time it took to reorient herself to wakefulness, Zayzann approached in all his feathered vibrancy to close the blinds for her.
“Sorry about that, Khaz.” Zayzann reached over her to shut the blinds with his long, outstretched arms. “I didn’t realize it’d wake you. How are you feeling?”
“I hurt with aches you’ve never dreamed of.” Khazmine commented through gritted teeth and squinting eyes. “But I am otherwise in decent spirits. Yourself?”
“Hungry.” Zayzann admitted while looking through a slit in the blinds. “We were supposed to go grocery shopping yesterday, but that didn’t happen, what with the—”
“Acknowledged.” Khazmine propped herself up, noticed the still massive damage to her midsection, and slumped back into the wall. “Alas, I am too weak to hunt and gather for you, little bird. It appears today is the day you forage for yourself.”
“What? What do you—”
“You are a hunter, yes?” Khazmine winced. The sheer effort of staying awake was proving too taxing for the Augment, and she struggled mightily to reply. “And there is a river on the outskirts of town, north, northwest of here.”
Khazmine strained to maneuver her arm to recover a thin plastic card that was tucked into her pants pocket. She held it tenuously between two trembling fingers and extended her hand out to him. The card was a hideous fusion of pink, orange, and brown patterns, with the words “Central Bus Pass” embossed on one side. Zayzann tugged to get the card out of Khazmine’s unresponsive hand.
“What’s this for?” Zayzann examined the card as Khazmine tried once more to shift positions, without success. “Khaz?”
She explained how to use public transit, and that the bus could bring him close enough to reach the river to hunt and fish. It hadn’t occurred to Zayzann that this was even a possibility. He leaned in to absorb every detail of Khazmine’s plan, as Byxx joined them from the hallway. He ruffled the last of the moisture from his wavy blonde locks, smelling like fresh shower and masculine body wash.
“Ah, good. She lives.” Byxx joked as he plopped onto the couch near Khazmine’s stool. “What are you two up to in here?”
“Recovery, mostly.” Khazmine clenched her jaw and closed her eyes tightly between brief responses. “And making plans.”
“I am to venture outside today.” Zayzann raised his chin and forced his eyes to meet Byxx’s. “We are in need of food, and Khazmine cannot get it for us.”
“I can’t say that I agree with this plan.” Byxx raised a brow at Zayzann, then directed his glare at Khazmine. “But you think it's a good idea?”
“We have little choice.” Khazmine began slowly tilting to one side, threatening to topple off of the stool. “I need… to rest.”
“Hey now! Khaz!” Byxx lunged forth to catch her as she slid downward. She was unbelievably heavy, and Byxx strained to prevent her from hitting the floor. The Augment remained motionless in his arms and he could hear the familiar noises of her charging. “Blast, she’s out cold again.”
“Can you stay with her while I am away?” Zayzann helped schlep Khazmine onto the couch without tugging her cable out of the wall. “I’ll scout out the area and return before Iris gets home, if you could keep an eye on Khazmine...”
“You think you can hold a human form for that long?” Byxx remarked as Zayzann gathered a change of clothes and some supplies for his journey. “What’s your plan if you lose control?”
“I can hold it.” Zayzann tugged a fresh shirt over his feathery torso and tucked it into his cargo pants. “It’s been getting easier to shift lately. I should be fine.”
“Should.” Byxx emphasized.
“Look, I don’t know how long you can last without a decent meal, but I’m willing to chance it.” Zayzann huffed as he dug through the small closet for a few essentials. “Besides, you keep telling me to have faith in things, but you don’t want to put any faith in me at all.”
“I didn’t say th—”
“You don’t have to.” Zayzann snapped. “It’s obvious in practically everything you say to me.”
A statically charged hush descended on the living room at Zayzann’s latest comment. His crest was drawn up by the tensed muscles in his nose and forehead, and his down puffed out in all directions. Byxx recognized the familiar emotions and tried softening his approach.
“You’re mistaken.” Byxx corrected as he stood up from his place at the end of the couch. “I’ve just seen more of Earth than you have, and I know a fair bit more than you about living here.”
An uncomfortable, nauseating feeling roiled within Zayzann, causing his split ears to draw back. He remembered the windy, dust-blown morning of his first flight back on Zhalterra, and all of the fear and doubt that came with it. Zayzann had been smaller and weaker than the other members of his clutch, and there were no guarantees that he would be able to soar as well as they had. A bitter taste flooded his mouth as he choked back from hissing at Byxx.
“Just because you’re older and wiser or whatever, doesn’t mean you can just walk all over me.” Zayzann protested as he shuffled more articles to prepare for his journey. “I’m not the day-old fledgling you seem to think I am, so lay off, Byxx.”
“I’m only trying to help.” Byxx ran his tongue over one of his canine teeth. “I just wanted to—”
“Enough, okay?” Zayzann spit back at him through an animal-like screech. “Please, let it be.”
Zayzann cinched the belt on his cargo pants and rummaged through his pockets to remove unnecessary items. His hand grazed the USB drive that he’d found in the bedroom. Zayzann fished the black thumb drive from his pocket and laid it gently on top of Iris’s laptop as he finished getting ready to leave. He collected a bath towel, the cellphone, and a few extra supplies into one of Iris’s disused messenger bags and strode out into the world, leaving Byxx alone with his thoughts in the sweltering heat.
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