Read Online Severance Package by Duane Swierczynski - Free Book Online Page A

McCoy said. “David Murphy would do some subtle mind-ops stuff during employee evaluations—that’s what he used to do, psyops—and work it into his evaluation. Girlfriend here picked up on that. She’s showing off.”
    Keene sipped tea, then said: “Some people will do anything for a job.”
    Amy was frozen; it was all too much to comprehend. The pane, gone. The pane of glass that shielded her not only from the temperamental seasons of Philadelphia—with its snow and humidity and rain and gusts—but also from her darkest impulses.
    Amy had explained it to David years ago when he’d asked her what she feared the most. She’d answered honestly: losing her mind for three seconds.
    David had tented his fingers, raised his eyebrows. “Care to explain that one?”
    Specifically, Amy had said, “I’m afraid of losing my mind for three seconds near an open window. Because part of me might decide it’s a good idea to jump out the window, just to see what would happen.” If that did happen, Amy knew that she would recover her sanity almost instantly. Not in enough time to prevent her from jumping out the window, but plenty of time to realize her mistake as she plummeted at 9.8 meters per second—plenty of time to scream in horror before pounding into the concrete below.
    “Interesting,” David had said.
    And now she was looking at it. An open window, thirty-six stories above the ground.
    Would Amy lose her mind?
    And would it be for three seconds, or longer?
    Then, at the moment of truth, the moment she thought she may actually do it …
    Fingers.
    Gripping the back of her shirt, pulling Amy away from the window. Thank God. A hand, reached into the waistband of her pants, holding tight, and guiding her backwards. Deeper into the safety of her office. Away from the window.
    “Oh God,” she whispered, even though her voice was barely a murmur, and her savior was the same person who’d been brutally assaulting her just a few seconds ago.
Thank you.
    “You’re welcome,” Molly said.
    Amy felt something tug at her waist. Her leather belt.
    Slipping out of her pant loops.
    Then she felt something wrap around her ankle.
    Molly eased Amy back until her grip was secure, and she had enough room. Then it was time.
    She looked up in the corner of Amy’s office, where the camera was tucked away.
    Winked.
    And then she launched Amy out the open window. Thirty-six floors above the pavement.
    At the last second—and oh, how she hoped the fiber-optic camera in this office could capture this, her impeccable timing, reflexes, and strength …
    At the last possible second she snatched the end of the leather belt. Grasped it tight, then collapsed down into a ball, wedging herself against the metal radiator that ran along thelower office wall. All would be lost if Amy’s weight were to pull Molly right out the window.
    But it didn’t. Molly held the leather firm.
    McCoy, eyes affixed to the laptop screen, said, “Wow.”
    In that moment, Amy knew she had lost her mind, lost it to the point of imagining that someone would actually throw her out an open window, thirty-six stories up. Because who would do that? Clearly, she had lost her mind. Not to be recovered.
    And it was nothing like she had imagined.
    In all her dreams, a fall from a great height like this one was a nightmare, but one of only a few seconds. The crushing air, the blur of motion …it was all horrible beyond words. But it was finite. When she smashed into the ground, she would jolt awake.
    Not this time. In real life, falling to your death felt like forever.
    She felt like she would
    be
    falling
    forever.
    Molly didn’t look, even though she wanted to. She used the scissors to secure the leather belt to the metal grille of the radiator; as long as Amy didn’t jolt around, it should hold for a short while.
    Taking a peek over the edge of the open window would be unprofessional. Better to seem aloof, as in:
I don’t need to watch.
The moment Amy Felton cleared