Out of Reach Read Online Free PDF Page A

work.”
    “And if you’re not there she’ll, what,
commit suicide?”
    Unperturbed I stare at Zafir. “No, of course
not, but everyone believes I’ve been at work. It’s expected that
I’ll be there.”
    Tightening my grip on the steering wheel in
frustration, I hope the dueling semis ahead of us will end their
stalemate quickly.
    “I hate it when they try to pass one
another. They’re going the exact same speed.” Smacking a palm
against the steering column, I switch lanes swiftly, guessing the
semi in the right lane will be the victorious turtle. Over a
thousand years of intuition proves true and the white semi ahead of
us slowly outdistances his orange opponent. As soon as a car’s
length of room develops between the two vehicles, I slip though the
gap and we continue the journey home at breakneck speed.
    Pulling to the curb in front of a
nondescript apartment building about an hour later, I put the
vehicle into park and leave the engine idling. Z and I step out of
the SUV. I open the trunk and remove his duffel bag while he
retrieves his t-shirt from the backseat. He leaves me literally
holding the bag while he shrugs into the now dry shirt, pulling it
into place over his massive shoulders.
    “Thanks,” he says, taking the thing from my
hand.
    “Think you can bring the bike by work later
and take the Yukon off my hands?” I ask him.
    “Sure.”
    “Thanks, Z,” I tell him
before jumping back into the cab. I watch through the passenger’s
window as he ambles into the building heading for his penthouse
apartment. He looks tired, I think to myself as I pull away from
the curb and head for Preston-Ward. We’re
all tired . I rub a hand over my face.
Unfortunately the mounting fatigue cannot be swiped away as easily
as sweat.
    Everything will turn around
by next year, it has to , I tell myself
optimistically.
     
    Thanks to speeding, it’s only 4:30p.m. when
I arrive at work. Smoothly I slide the Yukon into an open parking
space, take a deep breath, and disengage my seatbelt. Hurrying into
the building I grab a white lab coat off the hook in my office and
stow my duffle bag before rushing over to Lab 2A.
    I slip the coat over my street clothes,
enter the lab, and pause on the landing. My co-workers are cleaning
up for the day and already some of them are headed my direction,
attempting to cut out a few minutes early. Quickly I implant a
false memory into the background of their minds that I have been
here at work all last week.
    You might think pretending I’d been gone on
vacation would be easier but those stories require multiple lies
that I have to keep track of and affect a much larger population of
people. This lie only affects the few I work with and, even if they
can’t recall exactly what I did all week, they’d swear under oath I
was here. Since normally I’m a superb employee, past precedence
will lead my co-workers to assume whatever I did was of significant
importance to the current project.
    First rule of thought manipulation: The
simplest change that affects the smallest number of individuals as
possible is the easiest for the human mind to accept and results in
the fewest complications.
    Ducking out of the lab I return to my
office, hang my lab coat behind the door, and grab the toiletries
bag out of the duffel I took to Phoenix. Next I head across the
hallway and into the men’s room to freshen up. Unbuttoning my shirt
with haste I slide the garment from my broad shoulders and lay it
on the counter next to the washbasin. I run some water over my
face, finger comb my hair, and do a quick shave. When I’m finished
I dart across the empty hallway, lock the door to my office, and
don a clean shirt from my bag. Glancing at the clock on the wall I
see it’s 4:55p.m.—almost out of time. I repack my things and store
the duffle neatly underneath my desk where it won’t be noticed.
Stuffing wallet and keys into my jean’s pocket, I head down the
hallway to collect the girls and escort them