Devoured - - (list of e readers .TXT) 📗

The tie around Lance’s neck might as well have been a noose.

Yet another job interview went horribly as his career circled the drain. He looped a finger over the knot by his throat and pulled it down, letting out a long, depressed sigh. Fourteen years of hard work, certifications, and experience meant nothing anymore.

When the economy lagged like it did now, businesses couldn’t invest money in a guy like Lance. A young, dumb, recently graduated college knucklehead could do his job for a quarter of the cost. They wouldn’t know what the hell they were doing, but since when did a corporation care about quality over cost?

A decade and a half of setting up networks for government agencies and large corporate offices seemed like a waste of life now. Lance’s shoulders sagged as he meandered down the sidewalk, horrified at the idea of having to start a new career at the age of thirty-six.

Traffic honked in the street beside him, people impatient to get past the myriad of one-way streets and rusting bridges that comprised Pittsburgh.

Lance was the exact opposite—the last thing he wanted was to get home and deal with that situation. Telling his soon-to-be ex-wife that he failed to land another job was low on the totem pole of priorities. They rarely saw each other nowadays, but he knew she would be there tonight, ready to judge his latest failure.

They still lived together, unfortunately, as neither could afford to move out. It made the entire situation unbearable. The nights they spent watching television together in the living room (the only one in their apartment), uncomfortable silence hanging in the air between them, made Lance want to throw himself down the stairs. Granted, that’s how most couples’ lives were, but having the end of their marriage dangling in front of them made it that much harder to bear.

The warm, spring sun nestled in the clear sky above. Lance tilted his head back, closing his eyes, letting the soothing rays wash over his face. The smell of grilled burger he could no longer afford, wafted through the streets, making his stomach roll over. God, what he wouldn’t give to stop in a bar and blow what little cash he had left on a cheeseburger and fries.

He bumped into someone, his legs tangling with theirs as he stumbled forward. The leather portfolio Lance held in his hand fell to the sidewalk, contents spilling out.

“Watch where you’re going!”

Lance regained his balance. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

The man he ran into brushed himself off and looked up at Lance, his forehead wrinkling. “Lance? Lance York?”

“Yeah?” Lance recognized the man’s face, but he couldn’t place his name or where he knew him from.

“It’s me. Don.”

Lance stared at him.

“Don Whitehead! We worked together for SysNet way back when!”

Memories clicked into place. Lance remembered running parallel printer and USB cables alongside Don in his first job out of college. They were fresh-faced dreamers back then, talking about how far they would go and how many giant homes they would buy. The man before him only had a vague resemblance to the one Lance knew back then.

Don wore a black, custom suit that fit his body perfectly. Aviator sunglasses rested in his freshly barbered auburn hair. The slight orange twinge to his complexion hinted at a spray-on tan. He was well put together—a man who had some money to spend on his appearance. Even his posture suggested a high level of confidence.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Lance said. “Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

Don slapped him on the back. “How’s it going, buddy? You’re traipsing down the sidewalk like someone kicked your dog.”

“Just one of those days.” Lance didn’t want to stand there and talk about his shit life. “Listen, I’d love to catch up, but I have to keep going. Places to be and all that.” He didn’t have any plans for the rest of the day, other than feeling sorry for himself and sitting on the couch.

He wanted to get drunk, but couldn’t afford the booze.

“Hey, I understand. Until just recently I was a busy man myself. I’ll walk with you so we can catch up.” Don fell in beside him.

Lance fought the urge to sigh. All he wanted right then was to wallow in his misery. No one wants to run into old acquaintances when they’re down on their luck. That’s why people skip their high school reunions.

“Are you still contracting for the DoD?” Don walked with his chest out, arms relaxed at his sides.

“Nah. I’ve been bouncing around for a few years now. The market for guys like us is narrowing.”

Don bobbed his head. “I hear that. Who’s pulling your strings now?”

“No one.” Lance decided that he really didn’t give a shit whether he impressed Don or not. He just wanted to get away from him. “I just came from a job interview.”

“You don’t have a job? I thought you had places to go and all that?”

“Yeah, well—”

“I’m just fucking with you, man!”

Lance wanted to slap him. He pictured a perfect backhand landing flush. “Hilarious.”

“Believe me, I understand what it’s like to be down on your luck.”

The custom three-piece suit that Don wore said otherwise. Lance peeked at it as they walked. “That’s a nice suit you have there. Sears?”

Don laughed, long and deep. “Hugo Boss. Things have been going really well for me.”

“Oh yeah?” Lance couldn’t care less, but Don didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon.

“Yup. Sold my business last year. Put quite a bit of coin in my pocket. Now I’m living the good life.”

Lance bit back a gag. “Yet you’re still wearing a tie. I thought the point of cashing in was so you didn’t have to do that kind of shit anymore.”

“The sweeter things in life come to those who dress nice. I’m looking to invest in a new startup now so I have to look presentable.”

“Good for you.”

“But hey, listen to me bragging. What kind of job are you looking for? Maybe I know of something.”

Lance finally let the sigh out. “Anything at this point. Since the downturn, I haven’t been able to find much of anything. Everyone wants to hire college kids.”

They stopped at an intersection, mixing in with a small crowd waiting for the crossing signal to change.

“That sucks, buddy. I’ll put a word in for you if I end up throwing some cash at this startup.”

Lance peered over at his old co-worker and saw a hint of a smirk. He thought back to their relationship all of those years ago, wondering if they’d ever been as chummy as Don was acting now. Their conversation was weird and stilted, like Don was forcing something.

“Well, at this point, I’ll mop floors if I have to. The bills are stacking up.”

The light changed and people stormed across the street, heading to their jobs or lunches or loved ones. Lance followed, jealous that someone, anyone, waited for them at their destination.

His life was shit and he knew it. He put in a lot of hard work over the years, yet he couldn’t seem to catch a break no matter what he did. One plus one equals him sucking at life. Even worse, he’d been feeling sorry for himself during every waking moment.

He was caught in a never-ending cycle of self-loathing.

Don cleared his throat. “How’s Liz?”

Christ, Lance thought.

If talking about his job situation stabbed him like a knife to the gut, then discussing Liz was akin to twisting it. He was surprised that Don even remembered her name. They hadn’t spoken in more than a decade. The man must have a memory like a steel trap.

“She’s leaving me,” Lance said through gritted teeth.

“Oh man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“How could you know?”

“Still. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Lance hoped the uncomfortable silence between them would make Don get the hint and go away. It didn’t.

“Has she filed the paperwork yet?”

“What?” Lance stopped and turned to face Don, his eyes narrowing. “That’s a bit inappropriate, isn’t it? I mean—”

A woman stumbled past them, her skin ashy, spider veins running through her cheeks. Her eyes stared straight ahead, unfocused and vacant. Long blonde hair fell to her shoulders.

Lance and Don shared a confused glance.

“Ma’am?” Lance asked. “Are you OK?”

He knew how stupid the question sounded before it left his mouth, but it was all he could think to ask. This woman couldn’t be further from OK. OK punched her in the face