Suburban Vampire Ragnarok

Chapter 6

Scott walked into the IT building, through the red metal door, just as he had for the last several years, then headed to the IT help desk to cover the swing shift. Robin Thorsen was seated at the desk, in a heated conversation with someone who obviously had less patience than he had brains. She concluded the conversation, and hung up the phone.

"Asshole," she cursed under her breath as Scott came around the corner.

"Not me, I hope," Scott said.

"No! No, that was the parent of some student, asking why we were charging his son for a service call. Well, when little Billy destroys his computer in a drunken rage, and he calls us, we have to bill someone for it. I mean, come on!"

"It's gonna be one of those weeks, ain't it?" Scott asked, his mood only creeping further downward.

"Most likely. So, how was your weekend?"

Good, until I killed that one guy. Of course, he wasn't going to tell her that. "Fine. Yours?"

"Lame. And now we're back at work. Yay."

As Robin and Scott were conversing, Zed Mitsubishi, the IT service tech, walked onto the scene, without any of his usual pep or vigor, his face pale and downcast.

"And Zed here either had a really good weekend, or a really bad one," Robin observed.

"Hey, guys," Zed greeted.

"Zed?" Scott asked, "You doing okay?"

"Oh, me? Yeah, fine; just didn't get much sleep over the weekend."

"Like I said, either really good or really bad," Robin repeated.

Zed folded his arms on the IT desk and rested his head on them. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Dang," Scott said, "What a change. I mean, last week, you were really hyper. I mean, you were more annoying than usual."

"Not funny," Zed droned. "Is it Friday yet?"

"We wish," Robin replied.

"Campbell!" boomed the voice of the IT supervisor, Al Kohler, from the open door of his office. "My office, please!"

"Oww," Zed complained. "My head hurts enough as it is without him screaming like that."

"Uh-oh, I don't think that's good, Scott," Robin said.

"Yeah, it probably isn't," Scott responded. "Al and I haven't exactly been seeing eye to eye in... ever. Well, into the breach I go!"

"Yeah, don't die again!" Zed wailed.

*

"Please close the door, Scott. We need to talk."

We need to talk. That phrase, in Scott's experience, is never followed by good news, only bad. Laura used that phrase frequently during their last couple years of marriage. The doctors used that phrase when talking to Scott about his father's failing health and eventual death. We need to talk. I hate that phrase.

Al sat behind his desk as Scott pulled up a metal-framed chair that most likely came from an Ikea catalog. "Okay, what about?"

"About several things, really. I'll start with your frequent absences."