Kat
And then she was alone. Kat stood behind the counter of an empty store, staring out the window and into what felt like the depths of space. She could see the well-lit gas pumps, but beyond them, a void stretched out into eternity.
She was adrift.
Kat pulled her phone out to check the time. It was only a quarter after midnight. She’d only been alone for an hour and was already falling into existential malaise.
Laughing our how silly it all was, Kat pulled a textbook out of her bag.
She hefted her weighty criminal psychology text onto the countertop. It was crazy – the classes themselves could be done remotely, but she still needed to buy a physical textbook.
At least it was an interesting course. Barely more advanced than a 101 class, but it was popular, and she’d only just found a seat now in, what was it?
“Technically third year?” She asked out loud to no one.
Technically doesn’t count for much when you’re nearly failing. So much for condensed course loads.
Kat rubbed her eyes. It was hard enough to concentrate with her adjusted sleep schedule. She didn’t need her mother distracting her too.
Still, floating there in the void, it would have been nice to hear someone’s voice. Whether it was alone in her apartment, or alone at the crossroads, it didn’t matter. Solitude was solitude, and it left too much silence to fill.
Don’t worry, even if I was abandoned, I’ll always be here.
Hours passed and Kat couldn’t read anymore. She was already ahead of her class, and it was starting to feel like she was taking advantage of her aunt.
Sophie wouldn’t feel that way, of course. But considering mere hours ago they were getting slammed with pizza orders, Kat worried the others might.
She wondered what Tom would do to keep busy.
Could always text him. What harm would it be?
She imagined him telling her he wasn’t up to anything. That he’d be happy to keep her company. Tom would come in, smelling of aftershave and freedom, and spend the night with her —
Slut.
Kat flinched. It wasn’t even what she meant.
She sighed and put away her schoolwork.
What would Tom do to keep busy?
Sweep. She could sweep.
But then again, she and Lucy had already swept.
There was restocking… but Lucy did that, too, and all they’d sold that night was pizza and soda.
“Okay,” Kat said with a nod, “that’s a start.”
Kat walked away from the counter and over to the line of refrigerators on the back wall.
They could use a few 2-litre bottles of cola, and maybe some of the small orange juice bottles.
Kat almost skipped to the back room where she located the shelf of drinks. It was only after grabbing a couple of cola bottles she realized how awkward it would be to go back and forth. She could only carry so much at a time.
She scanned the room and located a little cart she could use. It was worn, with scuffed chrome with a cracked green plastic handle, but it would work.
She loaded it up, grabbing some extra milk too, just in case.
If it were a bigger, or newer store, she imagined the fridges would fill from the back, but that was a luxury the Crossroads couldn’t afford.
Dragging the cart back around, she began refilling the bottles, all the while trying to think of anything else she could do to kill time.
When the cart was back in place, she checked her phone again. Only 3 AM. Still hours to go.
Were the washrooms clean?
She considered the restrooms, but she had already cleaned them while Daisy was still around. However, even if they were currently overflowing, she didn’t want to go in there alone right now.
They weren’t disgusting, probably above average for a public restroom. But at this time of night, only truckers were stopping in, and she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of them walking in on her.
All alone.
She shuddered. There had to be something else to do that was less exposed, where she wouldn’t feel so trapped.
Garbage was all that was left.
Kat moved from one waste bin to another, dumping them into a larger sack she carried with her. It probably wasn’t needed, either; she wasn’t even going to fill her large garbage bag. But it was only her first shift. How would the rest fare if she couldn’t keep herself busy?
She hauled the bag to the back to leave it by the door, before her eyes fell on a key.
It hung on a small hook beside the back door, glimmering in the low light beside a faded post-it note taped to the wall.
‘Dumpster key.’
Kat sighed; she didn’t want to go outside. Sure, it was more open than the restroom, and less exposing than the phosphorescent lights she had been working under. But…it was still so dark.
Just hide in here, Kat. No one expects you to be brave.
Taunted by her own inner voice, Kat laughed at the absurdity. It was fine; she could just leave the bag here and take it out when the next person arrived. It was only another hour. The morning shift would arrive soon. She could even leave it to them.
Passing the buck. Typical. Always letting someone else bear the weight.
“Enough!”
She gave her cheeks a couple of light slaps to focus herself.
Kat nodded and pushed the door open.
The chilly night air flooded in, and what waited for her was… nothing.
Kat looked around, and all she saw was a well-lit path leading to the dark parking lot. At the end of the path was a large, dark green dumpster with unrecognizable graffiti on its cold steel panels.
What had she even been worried about?
Hefting the bag over her shoulder, Kat made her way down the gravel. It wasn’t fun, but she wasn’t scared, either.
Crunching footsteps on the gravel. It was just her, but the building and nearby treeline gave her steps a strange echo.
Maybe she wasn’t as cool as she thought.
Kat quickened her pace and closed the gap. As she reached the dumpster, she set the heavy, though only half full, bag on the ground. She pulled the little, brass key from her pants pocket and placed it in the matching lock.
Click.
The heavy brass lock opened.
She placed the lock and key safely in her pocket. Tom had told her about the time he had been reprimanded for losing the lock. He’d placed it on the loop of the dumpster lid and forgotten about it. When he flipped the lid open, the lock had been catapulted deep into the woods.
She was pretty sure Bradley wouldn’t yell at her, but she didn’t want to risk it.
She flipped open one lid and heaved the bag up, swinging it back and forth to gain some momentum. With a great effort, she spun the bag over her shoulder, and into the waiting dumpster.
It landed inside with a soft, yet weighty, plastic crinkle. A perfect sound to encapsulate a job well done.
Before Kat had time to move, another sound carried through the still air. She told herself it was just the garbage settling. It had a similar crinkling and shifting. But she knew better; it was lasting too long.
The crinkling turned to shifting as Kat took a step back.
She knew there were raccoons; she’d just startled one. Right?
The shifting intensified, and then there was a loud metallic bang as something inside the dumpster slammed into its side.
“Oh, fuck this,” Kat said, spinning on her heels and running back to the door.
Her feet crunched on the gravel as she heard another bang.
No time to turn back and look.
Sweat dripping down her back, she made it to the door.
She pushed.
It wouldn’t open!
Frantically, she pushed and pulled again and again, and nothing happened.
She must have locked herself out.
The gravel crunched behind her.
Kat ran. She didn’t look back; she just ran in the opposite direction.
At the corner of the store, she found herself mired in shrubs and long grass. Clearly, this route hadn’t been well-travelled. Branches cutting at her limbs and face, she raced around the corner and then, seeing no one in front of the store, she bolted for the door.
Fifty yards felt like a thousand. When she reached the doors, she ran into the store, skidding around the counter into the office, locking the door behind her.
Kat panted there in the dark for a few moments. Eventually, she composed herself, turning on the lights and remembering the security cameras.
She opened up the security system to find out what had been following her.
Nothing.
There was nothing in the back, nothing in the front.
She crept back to the office door and peeked through the smallest crack she could manage.
The store was empty.
Kat sighed. Her pulse was returning to normal, and the adrenaline fog was fading. If there was something in the dumpster, it was gone by now.
If there were something?
No, surely there was something. But maybe she’d overreacted; maybe it was just a raccoon or even a few rats.
The door jingled.
Kat slammed the office door shut and pressed her back against it, pulse now once again pounding, her heart all the way up her throat and her anxiety spiked to the point of—
“Hello, is anyone in here?”
Kat frowned. It was the gentle voice of a man. Once again, she had overreacted.
She peeked through the door again and saw a short, middle-aged man standing on the entrance mat.
She hung her head low, exasperated with herself more than anything, and opened the office door.
“Sorry, sir,” she said, giving him a polite wave, “I was just in the office.”
“Oh yes, I see that,” he said, nodding.
The man turned away and walked over to the snack foods.
This small social reprieve gave Kat an opportunity to compose herself. She straightened out her polo and, to her dismay, saw dirt and scratches all over her arms and legs. The brush on the side of the building had left a mark.
She did her best to clean up before the man came to the counter.
“It’s really too bad you guys don’t keep any pizza in the cooler. I’d rather get a slice of that than some chips.”
He set a family-size bag of BBQ chips on the counter.
“Oh, sorry about that,” Kat said, scanning the chips. “We do have hotdogs though.”
The man clicked his tongue and looked up at the ceiling.
“Right, totally forgot about that.”
He took the chips off the counter and walked away.
Kat, still holding the scanner in her hand, pressed cancel on the register.
“I should have remembered, but it’s not like I can smell them,” he said, giving his red nose a flick. “Anosmic. Can’t smell a damn thing, anymore.”
He got a hot dog and slapped it into one of the available, slightly stale buns. As he set about adding ketchup and mustard, he turned back to Kat.
“The other senses really picked up the slack, though. My hearing is extraordinary. Really lets me appreciate my music better.”
“Oh, do you play?”
The man raised an eyebrow.
“No, why would you think that?” he asked sternly, as if catching her in a scheme.
Kat knew she just had to let it go so the conversation could move on.
“No reason,” she said, quickly. “What kind of music do you listen to?”
His face relaxed and became pleasant again.
“Country, mainly, though I like the local boys more than the top charts and whatnot. You ever hear the Seadogs play?” he asked, walking back up to the counter.
“No, can’t say I have,” Kat said as she began ringing up the hot dog. “Do you need a drink with that?”
The man closed his eyes and nodded.
“You know, the issue with my hearing is that so much of the radio just ends up sounding the same,” he continued, turning towards the wall of fridges. “Kind of like seeing through the Matrix.”
He grabbed a grape soda and sauntered back over.
“Do you ever hear that? The similarities?”
Kat wasn’t really a music person, but she’d heard enough complaining about pop music to know what he meant.
“Yeah, like reusing chords, right?”
He nodded as he set the soda down on the counter.
“Meanwhile, there are infinite combinations of sounds,” Kat added, scanning his drink.
“Except there isn’t. Not really,” he said, locking eyes with her. “First, there is only a range of sounds that even sound right as music; second, the number of unique notes, combinations of words, even tones is finite. Yeah, it would take you far longer than any human has to live, but with an eternity…you could literally hear it all.”
Kat could feel herself sweating again.
Why? Because someone is making eye contact with you?
It was more intense than she wanted, but she didn’t want to start an argument. Just wanted him to smile and then go away.
“Yeah,” she said, quietly, “I guess you’re right.”
His eyes looked almost grey in that artificial light.
“How does that make you feel?”
Kat considered it, trying to figure out what he wanted her to say. But she was tired, so she was honest instead.
“That I’m happy I won’t live forever.”
A long moment of silence stretched between them. Suddenly, the strange man smiled.
“Good answer.”
He turned and walked to the door.
“Have a good night, miss,” he said, exiting before Kat had a chance to reciprocate.
She stood there at the counter and considered how she’d reacted to everything that night. Plenty of weird stuff had happened, but nothing bad. The people she worked with seemed nice, the strange noises were probably animals, and the customers… well. For creatures of the night, the few she’d spoken to were pleasant.
Maybe she just had to keep an open mind. Maybe strange wasn’t bad.
Or maybe you’re the strange one.
She held her arm. The new wound still stung.
Yeah, maybe she was.
Jacob Marsh 