The chemist smiled, staring across the dark space. Concrete columns segmented the structure and he spotted where the car door slammed. She was moving slowly, adjusting her purse
She always came in late. Her boyfriend worked as a security guard at the company.
He had known this as well.
He felt a faint chill of air, and he moved slowly. He had parked behind the building, far enough away that no one had seen him; an unsupervised garage off from the main campus.
Now, he picked up his pace, moving as quietly as he could while also closing the distance.
His footsteps thumped against the floor.
He could hear her, now, murmuring to herself. "Come on, Jamie, pick up."
She shook the phone in one hand. She had such delicate hands.
Those were not the hands of a chemist. They were not the hands of someone who spent time in the lab, and yet this was the bitch who had taken his job. This was the person they had replaced him with.
He felt a flash of rage, and he couldn't help but run faster. Fifteen feet, ten, closing the distance. But his footsteps pounded against the concrete now.
She tensed, and began to turn.
She rounded on him, and it took a second as he closed the distance for her eyes to widen in horrified realization.
A scream caught on her lips, but his hand moved to stop it.
The sound was muffled, and he brought her crashing down, with him on top.
She hit the concrete with a loud thump. His arm and knee struck as well. Pain lanced up his body, but he kept his position, pinning her to the floor.
He breathed in sharp, desperate gasps for air.
She tried to shout; tried to bite his finger. He cursed, yanking his hand back. "Get off me!" she yelled. But he laughed in her face.
"No one is going to hear you scream," he whispered fiercely in her ear.
Her eyes widened in terror, and she continued to struggle.
She inhaled deeply, trying to scream once more, but again, he clapped his hand over her mouth. He didn't hold her to the floor; instead, muscles straining, breath coming in gasps, he yanked her to her feet.
She struggled, but there was nothing she could do. He reached for her purse, yanking it, and ripping the car keys from the compartment where he had watched her store them.
As she continued to fight, to shove at his hands, he yanked the key from the purse, and clicked it.
The lights to the vehicle flashed.
And then he hit her.
She was still fighting, though, refusing to give in.
He hit her again, and she stopped struggling.
Breathing heavily, he reached for the door handle, yanking the car door open. And then he shoved her into the vehicle.
This was the perfect spot for what he had planned. In a way, the only spot. The most appropriate location for his vengeance.
They had humiliated him.
It took him a few motions to heft a live body into the car. He was gasping, sweaty by the time he had deposited her limp figure, then slammed the door shut.
He let out a heavy sigh, wiping his hand across his forehead. He clicked the locks again, and this time they flashed.
He put the keys in his pocket, and began to pace hastily back towards his own vehicle. Back towards where he had kept his metal lunchbox and the precious thermos with his new project.
He was determined to see it through.
He shot a look back over his shoulder, frowning towards the vehicle.
No motion. He could just about to glimpse her head jutting over the dashboard, visible through the windshield.
An expensive car.
"Did daddy buy that for you?" he muttered beneath his breath, feeling a flash of resentment.
He reached his vehicle, flung open the door, and reached for the metal lunchbox on the ground.
He paused, inhaling slowly, forcing his nerves to calm.
If he wanted this to succeed, he couldn't rush. In fact, he was determined to savor the moment. It had taken him nearly a year to create this new concoction, but it had also taken him a year to plan all of this.
What came next was going to be the best part yet. He had promised the police two more bodies by tonight.
He chuckled slowly, and reached for the container.
He slammed the door, not bothering to be quiet about it. The only other person who usually stayed this late was her boyfriend, and he rarely stayed in the guardhouse, preferring to do rounds in the larger building.
Besides, she was early. Normally, they didn't rendezvous until eight. But it was their anniversary. And she had wanted to surprise him. That was why she had worn the red underwear. He smiled, confident he had discovered everything he needed to in order to succeed. He didn't know how the sheep made it through life bleating at the stupidest things.
By the end of the night, they would know just how foolish they'd been. He nodded to himself, feeling the faint tremor in his hand which he ignored. Fear was beneath him. Nervousness was for the weak.
He grabbed the thermos, slammed his door, clicked the locks. As he marched away, he thought how silly this last gesture had been.
He didn't need the locks. He didn't need his car. In fact, he was never going to drive again.
***
Dakota was gasping heavily now, the sweat streaming down her face. Through the top floor window, eight stories high, she stared out, and watched a cavalcade of police and emergency vehicles racing down the highway, heading in her direction.
Backup had nearly arrived.
But it was a waste. He wasn't here.
She had checked every floor. She hadn't managed to look in every single office, but now she was beginning to wonder if she ought to go back and do just this.
She took a moment to lean against the window, both arms outstretched, touching the chilled glass. She exhaled deeply.
And then she spotted a flash of light.
She frowned.
Another flash of light.
Briefly, she wondered if someone was setting off small fireworks.
But then she realized where the light was coming from.
She stared.
The parking garage she had spotted on the way in. It was set off from the main building, outside the gate.
She hadn't even considered the parking garage. In her excitement, she'd failed to pay attention to the squat structure beyond the wall.
But now, she stared towards the third level of it.
The flashing lights had been nearly unnoticeable.
And now the lights were dead.
She hesitated, inhaling shakily. Already exhausted, having sprinted upstairs, rushing down hallways, she felt a flicker of lethargy.
But with a resigned sigh, shooting one last glance towards the stream of emergency vehicles racing towards her, she broke into a sprint again, rushing back out of the office door, into the hall, and down the stairs.