Excerpt: Genesis

Daniel yawned and buried his face deeper into his pillow to hide from the morning. There was an annoying shaft of sunlight shining right in his eyes from the window, an oversight by the architect who had apparently forgotten that the sun always rises from the East. He burrowed further into the sheets and threw an arm over his face to block the light.
Sunlight? The sun wasn’t supposed to be up before he was. One bloodshot blue eye opened and a hand groped around on the night table for his glasses. Slipping them on, he looked at the clock. 8:12am! He was going to be late for work!
Daniel tumbled out of bed in a tangle of sheets and banged his head off the corner of the nightstand.
“Christ! Ow.”
Holding his head with one hand, he fished around in a pile of laundry with the other until he pulled out a shirt. It looked clean. Somewhat. He swore under his breath, tried to smooth out the wrinkles, then gave up and fumbled with the buttons. He must have slept through his alarm again. This happened every time he had a damn nightmare. Hastily, he pulled on a pair of slacks and headed towards the bathroom.
He tripped on a pile of empty beer bottles in the doorway and nearly fell, but caught himself on the sink. Damn clumsy. Out of sync, playing at the wrong tempo. Hangovers did that. There was no time to shave, only a few spare minutes for a speedy tooth brushing and to splash his face. He grabbed an already-knotted tie that hung on the doorknob and leapt back over the beer bottles.
Goddamnit he already had a headache. How long had he stayed awake last night? It wasn’t worth dwelling, he told himself, and snatched up his briefcase and coat, couldn’t change it now. He just had to get to work on time or Ferguson would have his hide.
“Mmrrrr!”
Daniel yelped and nearly crashed through the closet door as he tripped over a furry blob. The black and white cat meowed plaintively. Daniel scowled as he yanked on the doorknob.
“I don’t have time to deal with you now, get the hell out of my apartment!” He said, herding the cat out the door with his foot. The stray skittered down the stairs and disappeared.
Lock the door, down the stairs, loop the tie over his head, out the main door, and around the corner… he looked at his watch. 8:24am. He had six minutes to make it to the train station or he was officially doomed.
He started sprinting. It was only five blocks to 149th Street, he could still make it. After about one block he reminded himself why he had never tried out for a sports team in high school and slowed down to a jog. The hangover was sounding off in his head like a Sousa march, but one glance down at his watch kept him going. A headache and a side cramp, while unpleasant, were far preferable to an angry boss.
Dashing down the subway stairs, he wedged past a crowd of businessmen and pushed by a plump lady in a fur coat.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, fluttering her fingers at the offense.
Daniel ignored her and jammed his subway pass into the turnstile.
The machine whirred and spit the pass back out. “Please swipe again at this turnstile.”
“Oh come on.” Daniel grabbed the pass and jammed it back in the machine.
The machine spit it back out. “Please swipe again at this turnstile.”
“Damn it all to Hell.” He said under his breath in frustration and jammed the card in a third time. “Come on you piece of junk, take the pass.”
This time the machine accepted the pass and spit it out on the other side and Daniel bolted through the turnstile like a racehorse out of a starting gate. The Local 6 was just pulling up to the platform so he ran down the escalator pushing people out of his way as he went.
“Sorry!” he called as he jumped down the last three steps. He winced as his ankle turned in a funny direction, but pressed onward toward the open doors of the subway car, stumbling in just as the doors snapped shut.
Leaning back against a pole he closed his eyes and sighed. Another day without breakfast or a good night’s sleep was the last thing he needed. Everything felt achy now, that he didn’t have to focus on catching a train. Tremors ran along his arms and long piano fingers as the whiskey wormed its way out of his system. Running with a hangover was never a good idea. He smoothed a few more wrinkles out of his shirt and tried to tuck it in neatly, but it still didn’t look very presentable. Fortunately, the beauty of working phones was that none of the clients would ever see him over the course of the day.
Breathe in, breathe out, calm down, Danny boy. His eyes drifted over the other people packed into the car. Most of them refused eye contact, either too interested in what they were doing or in too much of a mood to indulge him with pleasantries. A few were staring blankly out the window at the concrete walls of the subway tunnel as they flashed by. One man was hiding behind an open paper. The headline on the front read “Hotdog Vendor Arrested for Selling Human Fingers”. The caption below it read, “I swear I thought they were all beef!” Curious, Daniel adjusted his glasses and leaned in to skim the rest of the article. When the man reading it glanced up, he folded the paper and scowled.
“Get your own, buddy.” He snapped. Daniel quickly looked at his shoes.
Fifteen minutes into the ride he started to get antsy. 8:45am. It would be impossible to get to work by on time now. He could only try to make it ten minutes late and hope that his boss didn’t notice. Ok, ok, focus on something else. The train rocked rhythmically and the wheels hit the tracks like a metronome. Daniel shut his eyes and listened. It was almost like a percussion line with the little staccato notes overtop; people coughing, papers rustling, briefcases snapping shut. He was just starting to hear the song when the train slowed down and the screeching sound of metal on metal jolted him. For a moment his throat tightened. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he relaxed quickly. He was on a train going to work, everything was normal. He looked down at his watch. 9:01am.
“Grand Central Station,” the pleasant recorded voice droned over the train’s loudspeaker.
As soon as the subway doors slid open Daniel was on his feet and running to the next turnstile. Unlike the 149th Street Station, Grand Central was the size of a small town and still stuffed with people, even after 9am. He shoved through the throng, scooted through the turnstile, and rushed up the concrete steps to meet the city.
Midtown Manhattan was waiting for him at the corner of Lexington Avenue and 42nd Street. The familiar scent of hotdogs and soft pretzels wafted over the crowd as Daniel turned out of the stairwell and started down Lexington. Darting like a minnow through the sea of people, he cut across the sidewalk towards the corner. When the ‘don’t walk’ light started flashing, he made a break for the crosswalk. He was stopped two feet short when he ran face first into a very well dressed man in a business suit.
It was cold. Not just cold like the February wind whipping through the city cold, the kind of cold that ripped by and froze the marrow in his bones. It washed over him and then seeped away. Daniel shivered.
“Watch it,” the man growled. Something about him was wrong. Maybe his eyes were a little too big, or his nose a little off center, but no, it wasn’t that. It was something else… something just… wrong.
Daniel adjusted his glasses and collected himself. “S-sorry.” He mumbled as he picked up his briefcase and quickly looked away.
The man in the business suit glared. Daniel shrunk back and slunk around him, continuing down the street. Something tugged at the back of his mind, something about the cold or the look on the man’s face. He looked down at his watch. 9:04am. Suddenly he lost interest and broke into a run.
He could see his building looming just across the four-lane road at the corner of 40th Street, and came to a screeching halt at the busy intersection. He waited at the light, fidgeting. “Come on, come on. Change already.” He muttered, eyes fixed on the glowing orange ‘do not cross’ icon. After what seemed like an eternity, it finally changed to a white walking person and the mob of people waiting on the corner flooded the crosswalk. Daniel hurried across the street and made a beeline for his building.
“Repent!”
Daniel jumped back and dropped his briefcase as a gaunt man with wild dreadlocked hair grabbed him by the shoulders. Daniel blinked and stared into the man’s dilated eyes.
“Repent, sinner! Repent for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!” He shook Daniel by the shoulders. Daniel’s glasses rattled down the bridge of his nose.
“Lay off me pal…” he snapped.
“The End of Days is near and the trumpets are sounding!”
Daniel put his hands on the man’s chest and tried to push him back. “Let go!”
“Repent,” the man’s voice became a mere whisper, “You have been weighed in the balance and found wanting. Something from the frozen depths of the Abyss is coming, and it’s coming for you.”
Daniel’s mouth hung open in shock. The man stared back with a lucid gaze. He twitched suddenly and cocked his head up to stare at the sun.
“Cast out your demons! They walk among us! And we revel in the sin they provide! Mene Mene Tekel Uparsin!” the dreadlocked man cried.
Daniel jerked back and pushed the stranger off him. “Jesus Christ what is your problem?” He picked up his briefcase quickly and started towards his office building.
The old man watched him go with blank eyes. “Repent,” he whispered. “Before it’s too late.”
Daniel hurried to the elevator and lodged himself in with the seven other people who all looked put off at the discomfort it caused them. He stood silently staring at the lit numbers as the elevator ascended. When it finally reached the eighth floor, he excused his way out and tucked his chin. If he was lucky, his boss wouldn’t even notice he was late. He glanced at the wall clock. 9:14am.
“Cross!”
Daniel stopped and winced. He was mere feet from the cubical. So close. He turned around to see his boss coming up the aisle with a stack of papers. “I need you to get these cases done and over with today. They’re all Harlem Hospital and they’re about four months overdue.”
Daniel nodded and carefully took the stack of cases from his boss’ arms. “Yes, Mr. Ferguson.”
Ferguson eyed him. “And make sure you get payment this time. I don’t want any more complaints out of Harlem about these people.”
Daniel nodded.
“Oh, and Cross, you better be in that cube working until 5:14 tonight. I’m not paying you for fourteen minutes of lollygagging.”
Daniel held in the wince this time. “Yes, Mr. Ferguson.”
“And you better not come in late again.”
“Yes, Mr. Ferguson.”
Ferguson tapped his temple next to his eye. “I’ll be watching you.”
Daniel turned to his cubical with an armload of casework and rolled his eyes. He sank into his rolling chair and stared at the dark computer monitor. “I’ll be watching you,” he mimicked his boss and slouched down in the chair. “Who says that?” He put on his headset and punched the ‘on’ button on the computer tower.
He started to page through the first case. It was a seven year old boy that broke his leg falling off a swing set. From the looks of the income and the paltry coverage, the kid was lucky to have even gotten anything out of the insurance comapny. His eyes scanned the form and looked for the balance at the bottom. Something told him that there was no way this family could pay for the eight hundred dollar ambulance ride. He sighed. He would have to call and tell some mother with a seven year old in a cast they were going to revoke her insurance or take her to court if she didn’t get them a check in two weeks. How does someone come up with eight hundred dollars in two weeks? Someone who has a seven year old with a broken leg at home that they have to take care of?
“Not my problem.” Daniel said aloud. It was something he tried to tell himself every time he had to make a call. He punched the button to turn on the headset and started dialing. It rang three times and then a woman picked up the phone.
“Hello Ms. Davis, this is Daniel Cross calling on behalf of Lexington Medical Insurance. I’m calling about the late payment on a hospital care bill from the twenty fourth of September…”
He didn’t even have to listen into the phone to know what she was saying. The cases were always the same and the excuses were identical. Making ends meet, so and so’s been out of a job, can’t go to work because they have to stay home and take care of the injured party. The clock on the computer screen said 9:33am. Daniel just put his head in his hands and stared down at the floor. It was going to be a very long day.