Short story project: Unidentified Flying Object, Part 10

I didn’t return to my apartment until early the next morning. Once the sunset I spent my entire evening sitting on top of the Sears tower, the supposed location of Homian Power Research. What did they want with me? Agatha Morland? Or others who had special powers? I stayed on the rooftop until my teeth chattered and my fingers and toes had gone numb. When I arrived home I could barely manipulate my keys and fit it into the lock on my door. I went straight to my bedroom, peeled of my chilled clothing and replaced them with a thick terrycloth robe then crawled into bed.

Friday morning I made my coffee at home and as I approached the library I kept my eyes peeled for any signs of Jason. He had proven himself persistent thus far, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find him waiting for me now. I found no hint of him. Not his expensive jacket, nor his fine leather shoes. A small part of me was actually disappointed not to find him. How could I be disappointed? He way annoying, and he was going to wind up getting me into trouble. I dashed up the stars and crossed the lobby toward the elevators.

I’d only had enough time to take off my jacket and hang it off the back of my chair when my phone rang. I stared at the object sitting on my desk. No one called me. If anyone wanted to talk to me, they either walked over to my desk or e-mailed me.

“Good morning, Claire Lamont speaking.” I held my breath as I waited for the reply.

“Hi Claire.” It was Jason.

I sighed as I dropped to my seat, swivelling the chair toward the window and away from my coworkers. “How did you get this number?”

“It was easier than you might think.”

“Hm.” I said. The library website provided a great deal of information if you knew where to look for it.

“Have you thought about our talk last night?”

“Yes.” I had had plenty of time to think about it, although I hadn’t devoted much time to answering the question, since I knew what I’d do almost immediately after taking off last night.

“And?”

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening, not that my coworkers would have understood much from my end of the conversation. “I’ll need further instructions.”

“I knew you’d help.” Jason’s voice rang with triumph.

“I’m done at 5:30.” I kept my voice flat.

“Can we meet sooner?”

“No. And don’t call this number again.” I swung around in my seat to face the rest of the office and hung up. Closing my eyes, I leaned my elbows on my desk and rested my forehead in my hands. I stayed this way from a few seconds as a wave of nausea passed over me.

To be continued...look for more of the story on Tuesday, April 22nd, 2014.