off towards his cube. Max followed just as silently, like a shadow and soon found himself sitting next to Steve while the man called the police. Steve could not get through and kept trying to redial, never saying a word as he looked at Max. Finally with the phone pressed to one ear he said quietly, 'It was you, wasn't it? You finally flipped out.'
Shaking his head Max replied, 'Me? Me? C'mon Steve! It wasn't me! If I wanted to start a killing spree I would at least bring a gun. It was Fred, he was acting all weird, he attacked Nancy when Bob spotted him, Bob came and got me, we went to see what was going on. When we got there I tried to help Nancy, then Fred grabbed Bob and attacked him too, he would have gotten me, he almost did, but he slipped in all the blood and I kicked him in the head and got out.'
'Yeah? So if we go back to Nancy's office he should still be there unconscious? Uh, yeah, yeah I am here!' This last was into the phone, the emergency operator had finally answered, 'Send someone right away, a guy here went crazy and attacked some of my co workers, there’s blood everywhere. No, I think the guy who did it is knocked out. No, no guns, it must have been a knife there is blood everywhere. What? No I didn't see it, I got the guy who did right here, yeah he is okay, I think. You okay Max?' Max nodded yes, 'Yeah, yeah he is fine. Sure I will stay on the line with you until the police get here.'
Chapter 2
Finally able to catch his breath Max recapped his morning. It had started like any other with his quiet radio alarm going off at four twenty, he shut it off and fell back asleep almost immediately. Then he hit it again at four twenty nine, this time turning it off for good. Why did snooze buttons only add nine minutes to your sleep? Why not some normal amount of time like ten minutes or even better fifteen minutes, why nine? That seemed random to Max. He quietly left the bed so as to not wake Sarah, his wife of fourteen years.
Like a blind man he navigated his way through the darkness around the queen sized bed and out the door into the hallway towards the bathroom. He had showered, shaved, gotten dressed and was out the door by five. Max had his routine down perfectly.
As he drove his red nineteen ninety four Toyota truck to work he listened to his radio station WWEB. As usual there was a sports show on recapping yesterdays scores. Max enjoyed listening to morning dj, Blake 'the snake', he was hot headed, opinionated and usually irritated the hell out of Max. Despite this Max tuned in religiously to his show on the drive to work. Living in Colorado Max should have been a Rockies fan but Max was intently listening for the score of the Dodgers/Cubs game. He had always been a Dodgers ‘faithful’ ever since he transferred from Western State College in Colorado to the University of Southern California. A move that had cost him dearly in student loans.
'Cards five, Reds three.' the voice on the radio announced.
At this time in the morning traffic was minimal. Max drove his way through the neighborhood streets onto Wadsworth, a main street that ran north and south through the towns of Westminster, Arvada, and Wheatridge. Crap, red light. Max used the delay to adjust the knob on his radio to try and get clearer reception. Glancing up from his radio he noticed what looked to be a homeless man, a drunk homeless man from the way he was slowly staggering towards the truck. Still waiting for the green light he watched the poor soul and wondered how this man had become homeless. Had he been fired? Maybe he had mental problems that didn’t allow him to hold down a normal job?
“Ahhh hell, here he comes looking for a handout.” Max's charity ended at feeling sorry for the homeless, not giving them money. “Change, change, change” Max chanted to the red light. The homeless man slowly put one uneasy foot in front of the other and continued on his path toward Max. Green light. Max, feeling only elation, stepped on the accelerator and sped off towards the on ramp to interstate seventy.
The engine responded and the needle on his speedometer started to move from thirty five to forty. Max leaned into the curve and then straightened out the truck preparing to merge onto the highway. The speedometer now read fifty five mile per hour. Max would soon be hitting eighty as he passed the all too familiar exits, Sheridan, Federal, Pecos, and finally, what Coloradoans called, the 'Mouse Trap'. This was where the two major interstates came together in one snarling mess where a single accident could bring all traffic to a halt. From here he could see the first rays of the sun starting to make their way over the horizon. Max turned the steering wheel of his truck so that he could merge onto the other highway, interstate twenty five, and head south.
'Braves six, Mets zero.'
Max had a busy day planned, there was usually a full day of work to be done on a Friday before the long fourth of July weekend. Since Monday was a holiday he figured that most of his colleagues would be gone today extending their vacation. Less people around meant that he might actually get something accomplished.
'Astros four, D-backs one.'
Max enjoyed his early morning drive to work. Sure there were other vehicles on the road, mostly trucks. Delivery trucks, Fed EX, UPS, Hostess, guys drinking coffee from large plastic travel mugs driving F150's with their companies name stenciled on the door. Contractors, subcontractors, and consultants he speculated. Who else would be up this early in the morning? Max was none of the above. He was a computer programmer for the MAC Corporation and just liked to get an early start to his day so that he could avoid some of the ever increasing traffic.
'Pirates eleven in a shoot out over the Giants with nine.'
Max had worked for the MAC Corporation for four years now, one more year and he would be vested in his retirement plan with the company and he would also receive fifteen days of vacation a year in lieu of the usual ten that a new hire was awarded. That's why he was working today. It was only July and Max had already spent six of his vacation days. Plus his philosophy was, why take a day off when no one else was going to be around? Save it for skiing this winter was his plan.
'Jays seven, Yankees zero.'
Crap, the radio announcer had moved on to the American League, he must have missed the Dodgers score. No, Max was not your stereotypical computer programmer. He was not over weight, he showered, tried to eat healthy, and had interests in things other than Sci-Fi movies and the latest computer games. Not that such ‘stereotyped’ programmers existed anymore anyway, now being a programmer was just another way to make a living. Max's four wheel drive truck allowed him to enjoy all that the Colorado outdoors had to offer. He hiked in the summer and skied in the winter. On these trips he usually he went solo. Sarah had other interests to keep her busy, although she had camped with him from time to time. Max didn't mind going alone or with his son, it gave him time to think about life and enjoying silence was one of the reasons he went.
Glancing down at his watch, he read five thirty three. Not bad, he was about ten minutes away from the Tech Center where the MAC corporate building was located and he would only be a little late this morning.
As he returned his attention to the road ahead of him Max could see red and blue lights flashing in the early morning light. A cop. Instinctively he hit the brakes and slowed his truck down to the posted speed limit. The police officer had his cruiser parked on the shoulder of the road behind some unlucky motorist. Max couldn’t resist taking a quick glance to see what was happening.
The police car was parked behind a white four door sedan. The driver’s door was open but Max could not see the owner of the vehicle. Or the cop for that matter. Maybe they were on the other side of the car changing a tire. Or perhaps, in the dim morning light and based on the fact he was doing fifty five miles an hour he had just failed to notice them. Either way, Max was happy it was that guy, and not him, who had gotten the early morning ticket.
The last ten minutes of his drive were uneventful as he passed the usual landmarks; Mile High Stadium, the Gates Rubber factory and a few other exits before finally getting off of the freeway. A few minutes later Max had turned into his normal parking spot and killed the engine. Even though there were a hundred or so empty parking spaces Max always steered his truck to the same spot every morning, Monday through Friday. It was one of those 'creature of habit' kind of things.
As he walked towards the side employee entrance that provided the shortest distance from the parking lot to his ground floor cube Max went over his to-do list for the day. First he had to email his buddy and see if…
