Page 2 of Death, Interrupted

I clutched my chest like she’d stabbed me, and audibly gasped. “Ma’am, that was uncalled for.”

“Young people think they can do anything,” she said, stepping into the elevator as it arrived. “But the world isn’t yours. Respect the people around you.”

The doors began to close, and instead of inviting me in like some decent human being, she pointed a wrinkled finger in my direction. “Take the stairs.”

She left me in the lobby with my jaw dangling behind my visor.

“Wow,” I muttered. “Ruthless.”

So up the stairs I went. First flight, second flight, no problem. I’m young. I can climb stairs for days. On the third, guess who I saw again? Mrs. Elevator Banisher, fumbling with her keys at her door. When she dropped them, she looked back at me with pleading eyes and waited.

And sure, I could have helped. Could’ve taken off my helmet, redeemed myself, and shown her a little respect. Could’ve proved her wrong that not all young people were rude to the elderly folk.

But no. Karma’s a bitch, and so am I.

Suck it, granny.

I shrugged and kept going, her muttered curses following me up to the fifth floor, where I finally stopped in front of Garrett’s door. His name was right there on the plate, plain as day, and I didn’t bother with knocking. Why wait? Why pretend? I pulled my knife into my left hand and curled my fingers around the handle.

Accidents, after all, don’t make themselves.

“Please be open,” I muttered, pressing my gloved hand down on the door handle, half expecting resistance and half already preparing myself to kick it in.

It opened easily, the latch giving way without eventhe courtesy of a squeak, and I exhaled, shaking my head. Of course, it was open. Idiot. They were all idiots. Just like the other four before him, Garrett apparently never thought to lock his front door. I don’t know if it’s arrogance, laziness, or just pure dumb luck, but I swear it’s like these guys want to die. And sure, technically speaking, that’s the point. Though if anyone asks me, it’s not my fault. I wasn’t there, officer. I had nothing to do with it. They tragically managed to off themselves. A string of tragic accidents. Case closed.

Actually, what deaths are we even speaking of?

Never heard of any freak accidents.

See what I’m doing here?

Yeah, I’m too smart for this business.

I eased the door open and peeked inside, scanning for signs of life. Was he even home? The lights were on, but dimmed down to a warm glow, like he’d been setting a mood.

Gee, Garrett, that’s oddly sweet of you. And just slightly hot.

And the smell…oh God, the smell. It hit me like a freight train. Curry. Indian food. Rich spices curling through the air, seeping into my helmet and my brain until my stomach actually growled loud enough to embarrass me.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself. “My favorite.”

It was like the bastard knew I was coming and decided to make me dinner first. A little last meal situation, except the wrong person was about to die. Thoughtful, though. Points for effort.

I stepped in, keeping my knife ready but my footsteps light, shutting the door behind me so quietly I congratulated myself, and then I froze at the sound of a voice.

“Get the fuck out!”

My blood jolted, and I stopped breathing. Shit. Where the hell is he?

“You fucking weirdo, get out!”

I pressed back against the wall, raised my visor by an inch to get a clearer look at the apartment, scanning the shadows and the faint red glow at the end of the hall. But there was no figure, no footsteps, nothing except that red light pulsing.

And then he shouted again, his voice so loud it made the hair on the back of my neck rise. “No, you’re walking a thin fucking line, you asshole! Nobody’s dumb enough not to check that door! Get out before they shoot you!”

I blinked, then finally exhaled when I realized what was going on. He was playing a fucking video game.

Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by amusement as I realized the guy was yelling atpixels on a screen with the kind of rage people normally reserve for war crimes. He had to have headphones on because otherwise, what sort of lunatic screams into the void like that with no shame and no concern for the neighbors?