Page 12 of Kaine

Chapter Six

HIM

I am wrong. Extremefatigue does NOT bring on sleep. It just makes you bone tired and cranky. I climb out of bed for thesixth morning in a row, awake before the alarm, more tired than the day before. This hasn’t happened for a while, but it’s not entirely new. Sleep is the first of my essentials to go out the window when my mind is preoccupied by something I can’t solve. And this week, I have any number of problems for my mind to take its pick from to obsess over.

The head of departments’ meeting turned up a complete bust. No one has any concrete clue who ‘J’ is, what he wants (other than the obvious, to ruin our company/money), and why he has started this vendetta. And that’s what it is. This isn’t a cold, calculated business strategy. He wants this to hurt me personally.

Contemplating the day ahead, I decide it won’t hurt to start early. It’s 5:32 a.m. to be precise, my clock tells me. Even I’m not heartless enough to wake Henry, my driver, this early. Turning on the light as I enter my dressing room, I pull the switch to rotate my wardrobe to my track pants and sweaters. I quickly dress in a matching charcoal grey pants and hoodie set, tie the laces of my new shoes, and leave the apartment.

Nodding to the doorman on my way out, I realize that it’s still dark out, the city is waking, yawning and stretching into the new day, the sidewalks still carryings the dirty evidence of last night’s charades, and the streets are scattered with the wandering homeless and those hiding from their homes. I start my jog at a brisk pace, my warm breath already exhaling little white clouds of steam against the dark sky. It shouldn’t take more than about 20 minutes to get to the office, I calculate, just enough time for me to organize my thoughts for the day.

I glance at my Rolex as I turn the corner the block before my building. 6:00 a.m. on the dot, just as I’d predicted. The time flew by as I focused on work, hardly noticing my body dripping with sweat, my lungs begging for air. Despite the fatigue, old and new, I can’t help but smile when I see my building. It may be the home of my business, but it has been built from the very first brick up, by my blood, sweat, and yes, even though I hate to admit it, tears. And there are times I’ve spent more time here than my actual home.

Now into its fourth year as a part of the Manhattan skyline, I can’t imagine this magnificent city being without it. Sleek and modern, it juts up into the sky like an almost invisible glass portal into another world, mirrored glass from top to bottom, reflecting the sky and city back on itself, a perfect, seamless melting into its surroundings. The three letters ASH stand one story tall on the 50th floor in an understated muted grey.

I paid a premium for the most technologically advanced materials and design for my building. Completely energy self-sufficient, with solar cells built into every available surface and structure of the outer windows and walls, and the glass insulated against the elements, creating a harmonious temperature, requiring only the most minimal of air-conditioning for comfort. The rooftop is home to the company helipad, a garden for employees’ lunch and a 1000 square foot community garden for the nearby schools and youth centres.

The building is everything I want Ash industries to exude; modesty, strength, integrity, and a constructive contribution to society.

She is my pride and joy.

I pull my hoodie tight over my head, adjusting it, as I usually do to cover my face as I approach the building.

“Mr. Ashley, what are you doing here so early?” the security guard asks from the other side of the door as I slide my card through the slot and press my finger against the pad.

“Good morning, Carlos. If only I knew.” I throw up my hands as he chuckles before giving me a small finger salute and returning back to his station.

I walk to my personal elevator and turn the key, waiting for the doors to open. It might be early, but it’s actually my favorite time to arrive. It’s almost completely empty except for the skeleton security and cleaning staff. I can make my way to my company’s floors and offices without too much scrutiny. The elevator door opens and I step in, taking this opportunity to glance over the floors and offices through the glass as I ascend to the gym floor.

The gym is empty when I arrive, but I know that soon it will be teeming with Ash Industries employees getting in a workout before the start of their day. Every one of Ash Industries’ employees has full access to the gym and I encourage them to use it. It’s fully equipped with all the best equipment, sauna and steam rooms, and each employee is allotted a monthly allowance of 60 minutes with the house masseuses.

I’d decided during my run to take advantage of the empty gym to use one of the weight machines. I find the remote at the trainer’s station and turn on the TV system. The 16 screens mounted around the gym come to life and I select the saved setting for a different channel for each one.

Taking a swig from my water bottle, I settle next to the bench press and start my reps, zoning out the chatter as white noise.

“One, two, three...” I count as I exhale with deliberation, focusing on my breath and bicep muscle fibres firing to lift the heavier-than-normal weights. The last few days I’ve had to work harder than usual to focus. All my thoughts keep turning to her.

I haven’t heard anything about her since running into Ruby at the hospital two days ago. Xavier reported that he had taken care of her hospital bill, and there’s really no reason to think about or care about her any more. But I do. It isn’t a specific thought, but there she is all the time. Replaying the sound of her scream when I ran across her and her attackers. Wondering what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there. No use dwelling on it, I remind myself and concentrate on my exercises again. “...9, 10.” I let go of the bar gently, setting the weights down without too much noise. Wiping my face with my towel, my body suddenly freezes, a split second even before I realize it has.

“...and thankfully, I’m fine now. But the real lesson here, I think, is that everyone should always be as alert as possible, and travel together at night if you can.”

That voice.

No, it can’t be.

I know that voice.

It’s haunted me for the last week.

I pull the towel from my face and let my hoodie fall away.

It is her. On TV.

Looking as fucking beautiful as I remember her.

What is she doing on the Channel 7 morning show?

“Well, that’s about all we have time for, but is there one last message you’d like to say to our viewers, about your attack? Or some word of advice?” the host asks her.