Noir Snaps

Rust Red, Iron, & Thyme

Blood, crimson and fresh, marked Alice's trail.

The box cutter slipped, the retractable blade touched her palm a bare second--A three-inch long gash shined clean for a long heartbeat.  Blood flowed a moment later.  She hurried to the restroom, just two aisles away from where she stacked toys.

Alice watched her life rinse away in the pink water circling the drain.  Using paper towels, she wrapped the cut.  Palm bound tight, the woman continued off in search of a supervisor to take an accident report.

This late at night someone would be in the office so she headed for the back of the store.  Not one of the co-workers she passed even looked up, the last two hours of each night were crunch time.  Stopping outside the manager's office, Alice steeled herself for the conversation.  Three deep breaths, she echoed with knocks to the door a moment later.

"C'min." Dale, the assistant manager, called in his clipped accent.

With her good hand Alice pushed the door open.  Five minutes, and a lecture on safety later, she headed for the exit.  A doctor's visit would ruin the stores twenty-seven day streak of injury free night-shifts.  Thirty days and they got a pizza party.

The cut barely even hurt, she told him she'd just go home.  Her weekend would start a few hours early, and the crew would still get their pizza.  She could rest at home, and if the cut hurt worse go to the hospital later.  Maybe get stitches, but Alice could make do with a band-aid and some Tylenol for now.

Not a great day, but things could always get worse.

Alice bought an energy drink and a frozen pizza on her way out the door, a tiny smile lit her face.  Video games were out of the question, but a few hours bingeing TV sounded nice.  Her hand barely stung, just the odd twitch of pain as she stepped out of the stores light, and into the cold night air.

Morning, she corrected.  It was past four so technically a new day had come to the small hamlet on Oregon's coast.  The woman smiled wider, showing her teeth to the shadows.  Normally she got off work at eight, an hour at least after dawn, even on the darkest days.  She rented a loft about five blocks from the SuperStore, not even worth driving most days.  Tonight was one of the rare times she regretted leaving the car at home.

Few streetlights lit the main road, she'd forgotten the pure dark of cloudy nights in the rural town.  Shadows and fog combined in a dark cover, broken only by the few orange triangles of street lamps.  Pausing at the main road, she reconsidered just taking a cab.

Alice started on her way, pushing fear down to focus on the short walk home.  Ten minutes of the poorly lit road, then she could drive to the hospital for stitches.  She rushed along, passing the dirt lot next to her work, and crossing three side streets before she came to the worst of the walk.

An old house with a long yard covered in large plants and ancient trees.  During the day the lot stood out as well-tended and happy.  The night brought out a different side.  Normally safe bushes tingled with movement, dark spaces between branches hid stalking eyes and bladed intent.  Alice shivered at the line of shrubs, walking closer to the road.

Slight motion caught her eye and the world froze.  One of the bushes shivered back at her. A tiny flap of branches she told herself didn't happen.  Until the plant twitched again, hard enough to shake the thin green leaves.

Transferring the grocery bag to her wounded hand, she reached into the blue and red purse over her shoulder, gripping the bottle of mace kept there.