Apocalypse Rising (Book Four)

Partners in Crime

"Caly Saxon, Health and Safety," she said. "Don't mind me."

***

"The box comes with twenty one days worth of pills, a full information pack, and our special free gift, an Adipose Industries pendant," the man, Craig, was saying as Donna examined the gold pendant.

***

The Apocalypse did the same, admiring the gold pill as the woman, Clare, continued. "It's made of eighteen karat gold, and it's yours for free. No, we don't give away pens, no. No, I can't make an exception, no."

***

"I'll just need to keep this for testing," Donna said. "And I just need a list of your customers. Could you print it off?"

"I suppose so," Craig shrugged.

"Where's the printer?"

"Just over there, by the plant."

Donna looked over the cubicle wall. "Which plant, that plant?"

Craig checked where she was looking. "Yeah, that's the one."

"Lovely," Donna smiled, and they sat down.

***

Just seconds later, the Apocalypse stood up. "That's the printer there?" she asked, pointing.

"By the plant, yeah," Clare nodded.

"Brilliant," the Apocalypse beamed, sitting down.

***

And up popped Donna. "Does it need a code? Last place I worked, the printer needed a code."

"No, I can do it from here," Craig shook his head.

Donna sat down . . .

***

 . . . and up went the Apocalypse. "Has it got paper?" she wondered.

"Yeah, Jimbo keeps it stocked," Clare confirmed.

The Apocalypse blinked, then ducked down when Miss Foster marched in, followed by two guards. "Excuse me, everyone? If I could have your attention," she said, and the workers all stood. "On average, you're each selling forty Adipose packs per day. It's not enough. I want one hundred sales per person per day. And if not, you'll be replaced. Because if anyone's good in trimming the fat, it's me. Now, back to it!"

The Apocalypse sighed as she left. "Anyway, if you could print that off? Thanks."

***

Donna looked at Craig as Miss Foster left. "So if you could just print off that list, I'll get out of your way." Craig nodded and hit the button. "Lovely. Thanks, then. See you!"

***

"Thanks, then," the Apocalypse said, standing, but paused when Clare gave her a piece of paper. "What's that?"

"My brother's telephone number," she answered.

"What for?"

"He needs a girlfriend," she smiled. "You're health, yeah? He can be safety."

The Apocalypse narrowed her eyes. "Married," she ground out, crumbling the piece of paper up and marching off.

She found the printer, but paused when she didn't see any copies. She grumbled under her breath and went back to Clare and looked over the edge of the wall, giving a sickly sweet smile. "Me again."

***

Donna tilted her head as later that night, her first customer opened the door. "Stacy Campbell?" she asked.