Running on Fumes Pt. 01

"Oh, Christ, their families. None of them told their families about the lay off. I don't even know if any of them told their families they were going into the city tonight. What if they hear it on the news? What's happening down stairs, anyway? Do I have to identify the bodies? I think I'm going to be sick again."

Kimmi barely made it to the unit before green bile started to come up. Simon watched helplessly as Kimmi wretched into the container. He supported her through the bile and the dry heaves. When he couldn't take any more of it he pulled her away from the container and held her in his arms. "Shhhh," he said. "You have to stop this now. There's nothing left to come up. You're just making yourself sicker."

Kimmi gagged and coughed a couple more times. Then she became still. Silent tears flowed down her cheeks but she started to feel a little better. Simon's body heat was so comforting she almost drifted off to sleep. But she knew she couldn't sleep. Not yet. She pulled herself together.

"I guess we'd better go down now. I don't know exactly what I have to do. But I'll bet the cops are going to want to talk to me. I'm one of the survivors who can help identify the victims."

"Are you sure you can do this?" Simon asked with concern in his voice.

"Yes. I have to. There's no one else."

"Okay. I'll jump down first. I'll catch you when you jump."

Kimmi and Simon were the only ones left on the dance floor. Simon vaulted over the railing and landed lithely, like a leopard.

He called up to Kimmi, Okay, just pull yourself over the edge and drop down. I'm right below you."

Kimmi followed Simon's instructions, and made a graceful leap over the railing. She landed in front of Simon's sturdy frame with her purse slung over her shoulder. She hadn't really needed his help, but was grateful for his supporting arms.

"You handle yourself well," Simon said, admiringly. Kimmi's compact body had both strength and beauty.

"Years of modern dance," Kimmi explained, "and a little Tai Chi. I try to keep my body in balance. I'd guess the same is true for you."

Kimmi and Simon stood together and began to take stock of what was happening on the ground floor. It was a nightmarish scene. Outside it was lit up like mid-day, with flashing red rescue lights and the bold, white glare of the news media's intrusion. The choppy sound of helicopters mingled with shouted orders from disaster specialists, medical personnel, and the ever present security forces from the government and the pan-globals.

Inside there was havoc. The medicals seemed to be doing alright. Bodies were being sorted out and attempts were being made to identify individuals. Christ, how many people were on the floor when it happened? I've got to get a count somehow Simon thought. The corporate security forces and the police, however, were squabbling over jurisdiction, and doing nothing to preserve the crime scene. No one seemed to know who was in charge of what. It was time he started exerting some control.

"Kimmi," Simon said with regret in his voice, "I hate to leave you here like this. But I have to get in there and make some sense of the madness. Just look at them. They're running around like chickens with their heads cut off. I have to figure out who's in command and start straightening things out.

"It's okay. I understand," Kimmi said sadly. "I'm going to pitch in and see what I can do to help the medical Techs. Maybe I can find some of my friends that way." She started to turn away.

"Wait a minute," Simon said. "Look, I really want to see you after all of this is over. How can I reach you? I don't have a pen or paper or anything."

"My phone's listed. It's Kimmi Riasco, like fiasco, but with an R. That's what my life is right now. A fiasco."

"I'm Simon Delacroix. It you need anything, anything, Kimmi, call me. I will be in touch, but it's gonna take a few days to sort things out. Then I'll call you. Okay?" For some reason he didn't want to let her go. He was afraid he'd never see her again. She looked so haunted, in her spider silk dress with her big blue eyes."

"Thank you, Simon. You've been.... tremendous. "Her eyes started to tear again. Damn it, I will not cry, not again. All he's seen of me is drunk, puking and crying. I want him to know I can stand on my own two feet. She brushed away her tears. "I'll be okay now. Go do what you have to do. She walked away from him, squaring her shoulders. She spotted an overwhelmed medical technician and got to work. She worked in a grim haze of sorrow. No one had survived the fire guns and the bombs. The floor of the club was like a scene from some grizzly movie Kimmi had watched a couple of months back, but this was real. God, the sorrow, and the smell, I don't know how much more of this I can take, she thought. It'll be worth it if I find just one live person in all the mess.

Kimmi finally reached the end of her strength when she found the table where her gang had been sitting. She just had guts enough left to identify the bodies which had been moved to the side to await "processing" by the police and the city's medical examiner mobile unit. Kimmi felt sick, and more alone than she'd ever felt in her life.

She noticed that the sun was starting to lighten the phantasmagoric scene. She couldn't take any more. She walked straight out the door looking straight ahead. She couldn't look at it any more. It was almost as if she were in a trance. She found herself several minutes later sitting calmly on a bench waiting for the tube to Krowe Industries. She was smoking a cigarette. She hadn't smoked in years. The cigarette tasted incredible. She was alive! And God help me, so many are dead.

The tube swept into the station bringing with it a rush of foul air. It was still very early for commuters so the cars were mostly empty. Kimmi entered the tube and sat down on the first seat she found vacant. She was grateful that she didn't have to push and pull and shove to get a safe place to ride into Krowe's territory.

Funny, I have no desire to go home and chill out. I don't think I could bear to be alone right now. As the tube made its way under Philadelphia and its suburban chain of towns, Kimmi started to notice other people on the train staring at her. She realized what a fright she must look She was still wearing the one-use tango dress, and it was about to disintegrate on her. Oh God, just let the dress last until I get to my office. I can fix myself up there. Oh man, Oh man, what am I going to tell Windbag? . Well Sol, she thought grimly, it looks like the company won't have to worry about paying all of the accrued leave days after all. That's what I'll tell him. Yep, the company got off real cheaply this time.

The tube made its way down what used to be called "The Main Line" stations, picking up and dispelling early bird commuters who were mostly either on their way to the Krowe Complex or taking the long way around to get back into Philadelphia.

Kimmi stopped worrying about the other riders. She was miserable, she had a headache that felt like a gremlin was sitting on her eye brow hammering nails into her left temple, her dress was soaked with blood and smelled like she'd been the main course at a pig roast. Oh Christ, she thought if I don't get out of here soon I'm going to start puking again.

Thankfully the tube became an express once it left the Main Line at Paoli. It zipped down the valley towards Valley Forge and the humongous Pan-global facility that housed Krowe Industries and at least thirty other major players in the Pan-global business game.

Finally, Kimmi reached her stop and scrambled out of the car. She paused for a moment to take a long, lingering look at the corporation that had been so much a part of her life for so long. With a jolt she remembered that in two short weeks the icon she had counted on for security would turn its back to her. So long, It's been good to know you, and don't forget to leave all of your keys and security patches when you go she thought miserably.

Oh buck up Kimmi, she chided herself. You've got to get inside before anyone sees you like this. The dress was rapidly deteriorating. In another couple of minutes she might be indecently exposed. Kimmi made a dash for the elevator, caught it, and thanked God she was alone for the trip up to the third floor where she had her cubicle. She raced through the warren like office and got to her spot just as the last stitches of the dress were flaking off.

For the second time in two days Kimmi thanked her father for his foresight. He had told her a long time ago that she should always keep an emergency set of clothes in her workplace. He was adamant about it. He said, no matter where you work or how you run your business, one fine day, you will need that extra set of clothes.

She opened the hidden closet space in her cubicle. She kept a rather ordinary but flattering navy blue dress for emergencies. She even had matching stockings and shoes. Guess I'd better head to the bathroom and see what other repairs need to be made she thought as she slipped into the raw silk dress. She tossed the remnants of the tango dress into the waste unit, picked up her purse and headed for the ladies room. Sure is quite in here today. I guess it's because I'm here so early. And then it hit her. She had been listening for the sounds that the other five Human Resources personnel ordinarily made while they worked away in the rabbit warren.

Oh man, Kimmi moaned, why couldn't we just had gone for a drink down stairs? She started to cry again. Why the hell did we have to go into Philadelphia? Goddamn, this is awful. How in hell am I going to get through the next two weeks? Maybe I should just fold, and take leave. No! That would be even worse. I can't just sit around my apartment doing nothing. I could start a job search, but that better done from here than home. The equipment's better, and people are more likely to hire you if you're working, have an office number, and everything that goes with it. So I'm going to stick here like glue. Except for time off for the funerals. Oh God, how can I face all those people?

Kimmi took a good long look at herself in the mirror in the ladies lounge. I look like hell. she thought. So she emptied her bag and brought out the heavy artillery. At least that's how she's always thought about makeup. She rarely used cosmetics. She had great skin which was just slightly dark enough to make one think she'd been sun bathing. Her eyes were accentuated by thick, dark brows and lush black eyelashes. But today she looked pale. Almost green from the stress, so she lathered on the makeup her sister insisted she carry with her at all times -- well not exactly insisted.

Victoria had a way of getting people to do things. An arch look, with a short statement of approval or disapproval was all it took. Like the make up. The last time she'd spent time with Victoria, Victoria had upended Kimmi's purse and looked at her with shocked pity. "These are the things you carry around with you all day?" she'd asked. Kimmi had wilted. Afterwards she was surprised at her reaction. Who the Hell needs approval to put things in their purse? At the time, however, Victoria had gone into gales of giggles and said that the two of them just had to go shopping to outfit Kimmi's purse like it was a life or death kind of thing.

So off they had gone to the upper echelon department store, and Victoria had taken Kimmi's purse in hand and filled it with "what every civilized woman needs to carry in a purse."

Most of it was make up. Most of it was very expensive. Kimmi didn't have the will to say no. She just went along for the ride, oohing and ahhing over every little item that was bought.

On the way back to the house Victoria had hugged Kimmi warmly and said "isn't it great what sisters can do for each other?" Well, it was a nice gesture, Kimmi acknowledged. And she made a brave try at fixing her face so she didn't look quite so ravaged by the events of last evening. She looked okay by the time she exited the ladies room.

Kimmi's telephone was chirping when she got back to her cubicle. She looked it as if it were a poisonous snake, but decided to pick up the call. She knew she'd have to face what was coming. She just didn't know which person would get to hear her story first.

She picked up the receiver on the third chirp. "Kimmi Riasco," she said in a falsely bright voice.

"Kimmi." It was Alex. "Where on earth have you been? I've been trying to find you all night."

"Oh, hi Alex. Why? Why have you been trying to find me?"

"I heard after lunch about the lay off. When I learned you were out of the job I wanted to talk to you. Give you some support, help you sort things out. I thought you'd go home after getting the news. I called you five times last night. You didn't pick up the phone. Where were you, I was worried.

Kimmi laughed, but it came out as a sob. "Where are you, Alex? We need to talk. A lot of stuff happened last night. I can't talk about it over the phone. Can you come to my office? I really need to talk to someone about last night."

"What happened last night Kimmi?" Alex asked with tension in his voice. "Did you go out with someone else? Why didn't you call me when you found out about your job?" He didn't like the idea of another man comforting Kimmi. Alex had been floored by the news of the lay off yesterday afternoon, but he hadn't been free to call Kimmi until he got home from work. He had expected to find Kimmi on the other end of the phone, devastated, in tears, and needing comfort. Instead he got her answering machine time after time. Later, Glory Krowe had called offering Alex an evening of sexual pleasure. He called Kimmi on the security phone for an hour before giving up and heading over to Glory's condominium.

"Things happened so fast, I didn't have a chance to call you." Kimmi suddenly realized that for the first time in years, she hadn't turned to Alex at the first sign of trouble. "I can't talk about it on the phone," Kimmi started to cry again. "Please come. I need you."

"Damn it Kimmi, don't cry. I'll be right over. Whatever's happened we can fix. Okay? I'll be there in an hour."

"Okay. Thanks Alex." Kimmi put the receiver back into its cradle and sat down on her desk chair. She felt empty, like a vessel which had sprung a leak and been drained dry. She put her head down on her desk and fell asleep.

It was ten O'clock when Alex walked into Kimmi's cubicle. Kimmi was snoring lightly with her head resting on her arms next to her computer's key board. A puddle of drool had collected under her cheek. Her hair caught some light as he peered into the work area and it looked like she had a halo around her head for a second. Alex cleared his throat.

Kimmi slumbered on.

Alex watched her sleep for a couple of minutes. She stirred and he felt a pang of longing for her. Funny, she looks ridiculous and is still so desirable, Alex thought possessively. Maybe I ought to marry her.

Alex touched Kimmi gently on the shoulder. She woke up with a start. She opened her eyes and wiped her mouth. She looked completely disoriented for a moment.

"Oh, hi Alex," Kimmi said, giving him a wan smile.

"I'm so glad to see you. God what a nightmare I've been in since I left you yesterday. You won't believe what happened."

"What did happen, Kimmi? I tried to find you after I heard the news, but you were gone. I've been worried."

"I'm sorry, Alex, I should have called. But everything happened so fast after you left yesterday I didn't even think about calling you. First Windbag gave me the news about the jobs. It wasn't just me, Alex, it was the whole crew. I got a headache and Windy gave me a pain killer. The next thing I knew I was out like a light in the women's bathroom. Angie found me in the bathroom after Windbag gave the gang the news. I thought I was okay.

Everyone was in a funk and then someone decided we should go into Philly to celebrate the lay off. So we all piled into the tube and ended up in a night club, drinking and dancing. I was so stoned, Alex. Mixing the pain killer with alcohol sent me to the moon. The next thing I knew I was dancing on this revolving dance floor with a stranger. Then all hell broke loose downstairs where the crew was sitting. I didn't know what was happening. This stranger pushed me to the floor, set a table over me for cover and disappeared. I didn't see what happened. But I heard it. Oh Christ! It was so awful. I was curled up into a ball and people on the dance floor were yelling and pushing. I just lay there, while downstairs fire guns and stuff were turned on the crowd. Everyone on the first floor of the club was killed. Everyone I worked with was down there. I just lay on the dance floor while they died, Alex." Kimmi was sobbing again by the time she finished her tale.

"Oh my God, Kimmi, you were there? At that club? I heard about it on the news this morning. Good God, I never thought you... Jesus. You could have been killed."

"I should have been killed," Kimmi said, still crying. "I should have been sitting at the table with everyone else, not up on the dance floor. All five of them, dead. It's just too much."

Alex felt a cold chill as he listened to Kimmi's description of the night's events. I could have lost her last night, he thought. Completely unsettled, Alex walked over to Kimmi's chair. He sank down on his knees and pulled her into his arms. He cradled her there while she struggled to get her tears under control.

"Oh Christ, Kimmi. Thank God it wasn't you. I wouldn't know what to do if I lost you."

They hung on to each other. Alex rocked Kimmi as her sobs quieted. Kimmi felt a connection that had been missing in their relationship for a while.

"So who was this stranger you were dancing with," Alex asked curiously.

"Simon Delacroix. Turns out he owns the club."

"And you were dancing with him when the shit hit the fan? Jesus, Kimmi, they were probably trying to take him out. You're luck you're not charcoal."

"I don't think they were out for him personally. It was too random. Man, he responded though! Incredible reflexes." Kimmi said.

"I guess that's not all you noticed about him, was it?" Alex said with some heat.

"Get real, Alex. I barely spent five minutes with the man. He protected me as best he could and then jumped down into the fray on the ground floor. He could have been killed."

"But he checked on you later. How much time did you spend with him then?" Alex was feeling green pangs of jealousy, but he wasn't sure why.

"Oh, just long enough for us to have hot, dirty sex on the dance floor while hundreds watched," Kimmi retorted, irritated by Alex's insinuation. "You know, Alex, this day started out pretty crappy, and it just keeps getting worse. Last night was pretty fucking traumatic. I wasn't exactly looking to start a new relationship after the firebombing. I had other things on my mind. Like finding and identifying my gang which had been turned into crispy critters."

Alex's cell phone interrupted Kimmi's tirade. It was Glory. Krowe. "Yeah," he said defensively into the receiver. "I have a few things to take care of over here on the east corridor. I'll be there as soon as possible. Alright, I said I'd be there didn't I?" Alex said in an irritated tone into the telephone.

Kimmi continued when Alex put his phone away. "Delacroix was kind to me but he had things on his mind. Like the fact that at least fifty people died right before his eyes in his club. He was more interested in aiding the investigation than getting into my panties. Does that satisfy your twisted machismo instinct?"