Dare to Stop Breathing

Keep it to Yourself

Of all things that this career could have been, Quinn Landon had been sure it would be at least a little exciting. Yet, the only things sitting on her desk at the moment were her very official-looking nameplate, her laptop, and a stack of paperwork that had to be a foot in height. Quinn had previously told her assistant to stop anyone from coming into the room, so she had some time to work, and possibly check her email.

Quinn slid her chair to the middle of the desk, where her laptop was sitting, closed. Although it seemed a bit much, Quinn adored the President's Seal on the back. She ran her fingers over it, then opened the laptop, revealing the screen. The wallpaper she had made yesterday was bright and bold, almost smiling up at her, saying, "You're the President, you know." Quinn processed this for the third time that day, I'm the President.

    She clicked on her inbox, bringing up a long column of emails, most of them she hadn't checked. In the search bar she typed in the name "Donn Gale". The email she had sent to him was brought up onto the display. There was no reply. Quinn wondered if he'd ever get back to her. She couldn't jump to conclusions, she hadn't a clue as to what he was up to. What did retired presidents do after their presidency was up?

    It was obvious Gale wouldn't be responding for a while, so she took the time to check some of her other emails. There were many different subjects; meetings with her secretary, the expenses of flying to New-York, "hello"s from her colleagues; the list went on forever. Although she felt guilty for not responding, she moved the greetings to the "Check Later" folder. As for the expenses, she figured that was a task for later.

    She went to close her laptop, when the screen lit up suddenly. It had been a new email from the folder titled "Check Later". She lifted the screen once again, then clicked into the section, then the new message. Quinn had been sure to only move the specific emails, although she figured she must have misplaced one. Upon opening up the incoming message, she read the information, "Donn Gale, 9:13am, location unknown". Relief swam over her. At last she would be getting some help. Carefully, she skimmed over the email: "Good morning, President Landon. I hope this will be of use to you. Good luck with your findings, and if you have any questions... feel free to keep them to yourself." Quinn pondered the last sentence. What had he meant by "keep it to yourself"? He must have meant the attached document to be private.

    Assuming the file was a list of, hopefully, tips on handling the Presidency, she clicked into it. What came up, in fact, she had not been expecting to see. It was a well put-together, 3D digital map of the world, with a couple of points in certain areas. Quinn noticed that there was one located in the Himalayan Mountains, specifically Mount Everest. The other points were scattered, and when looked at more closely, they described the best vacation spots. Gale always has been one for advice, she thought. Perhaps he was suggesting that she would need a break from time to time. However, Mount Everest didn't exactly seem like the best place to sit back and relax. Unless Quinn would be staying in one of the towns at the bottom of the mountain, she hardly thought she'd enjoy sitting in a beach chair under an umbrella, wearing four layers of clothing to fend off frostbite.

Once transferring the map from her computer to her mobile phone, Quinn stood up from her seat and walked to the large oak door guarding her office. It took a quarter of her strength to push it open, and she was slightly surprised when she found herself breathing faster. Quinn made a mental note to visit the local gym more often.

"Madam President! Good to see you. How has your work been going?" Quinn looked up to see her secretary, Charlotte.

"Oh, hi, Charlotte. Work's been fine. Any news, lately?"

Charlotte's face dropped. She seemed worried, "Well, there has been speak of an attack that is believed to happen in the near future...," she noticed Quinn's growing paranoia then added, "but it isn't supposed to occur for a few months, if my sources are correct."

Quinn Landon thought about this, "And what would those sources be?"

"Uh, some very trustworthy people on... social media," Charlotte looked slightly ashamed.

"Look, just try to find any other reports on this. Search for a date, where the attack's location will be, and who the attackers are. I have something I need to do."

Charlotte made eye contact with her, a small frown on her face, "I'm sorry, Madam, but I'm afraid I have to know what it is that you're doing. If there is going to be an attack, the staff need to be more aware of what happens here at the White House."

"I'm just going to see if Marcus is in, I need to ask him about our budget."

"Okay, that's fine. He should be in the meeting room. I'm sure he won't mind if you need to remove him from his meeting, I heard it was about taxes today," Charlotte winked, then started down the red-carpeted hallway.

Quinn spun on her heels and strode down a few halls, hoping that she remembered where the meeting room was located. She wished she had paid a little more attention at the couple of tours. But, who could blame her? Quinn was pretty sure anyone who was given a tour of the White House would be distracted, as well.

She had almost reached the end of a particularly long corridor when she noticed a faint ticking. Tick, tick, tick, tick. The sound annoyed Quinn, yet she still went to the front desk, "Hello. I would like to report a ticking noise in the north-west sector of the building. Thanks," she finished, then went to start off to find Marcus.

Suddenly, she saw a few specks of dust fall from the ceiling. Before she knew it, the entire ceiling collapsed. Quinn lunged for the desk and slid underneath it as the walls caved in, yet she noticed a searing pain in her right leg.

A pool of scarlet welled around her waist and to her left, and her vision started to tilt, as she crumpled to the floor. Quinn Landon had always been weary around the sight of blood.

To be continued...

To anyone that's reading this, hi! Thanks for reading my short story. I know that this doesn't exactly relate to the title of the book, but I've decided to cut off the story here for now. If I get enough readers, I will continue this story, possibly updating it once a week. The title doesn't come into play until later in the book, so I hope I get to continue with it! I'd also like to ask that you comment on the parts you like or think need editing, I would greatly appreciate the feedback. Once again, thanks for reading!
~Kenz