CHAPTER 7: LET GO

LET GO



Ryan Douglas sat at his terminal, reading job requests for the day. He went through the list picking the older requests first. He picked one, mirror hard drive room 312 Ext. 3620, Mr. Adamson. He gingerly moved around his desk holding onto his side. Good, the bandage held, “That was close last night; I almost got turned into a kibble and bit, note to self no hand to hand with more than one werewolf.”

Ryan reached down and very carefully picked up his tool bag and headed for the door. As he reached for the door handle the phone in his office rang.

“Hello, IT, Ryan here.”

“Hello, Mr. Douglas, this is Mrs. Kaufman. Could you come by my office?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m on my way.”

Ryan hung up the phone, shrugged his shoulders and headed to his boss’s office. He approached a separate office, and knocked.

“Come In,” a female voice from within said.

Ryan walked in and she motioned him to a chair. Mrs. Kaufman had a single file on her desk, his.

“Ryan, how are you today, I wanted to take the time to see how you have been doing.”

“I guess I’m doing fine, Mrs. Kaufman.”

“Are you really? I’ve noticed a slight downside to your performance, and some of the people you work with tell me that you have come in with injuries on more than one occasion.” Mrs. Kaufman looked at him closely, “What exactly have you been doing at night?”

“Mrs. Kaufman, with all due respect, what I do on my free time is my own business.”

“Ryan, we all care about you, and just for the record, your safety, performance, and the safety of the other personal within this office is my business. Are you in some kind of fight club or something?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“Mainly, Ryan, the fact that you’re bleeding all over my office. Do you want me to call you an ambulance?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll take care of it?”

“Ryan, I am going to be straight with you, we all sympathize with you, for the loss of your wife and child, their death was tragic.”

“Mrs. Kaufman, my wife and fifteen year old daughter were murdered, ripped apart less then a year ago.”

“I’m sorry, but if you can’t give me even the smallest explanation, I’m going to have to let you go.”

“I got cut,” Ryan responded.

“That’s not nearly good enough and you know it.”

“Mrs. Kaufman, short of trying to hand you a number of lies, I just can’t say.”

“Ryan, you leave me with little choice. I have prepared you a separate severance package, it’s very generous, even though you have only worked here for two years, since you retired from the military. I do suggest keeping your medical benefits under cobra, you need some help.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kaufman for all of your concern, but I don’t think that will be necessary.

“Ryan, I am truly sorry!”

“I know, Mrs. Kaufman. You are a good Boss, but my private life is my own, it just has to be that way.”

Ryan left the office, dropped by shipping, and picked up a box to take his personal items home. He said nothing to his fellow employees, ignoring the stares.


He made his way to the parking garage to his forest green 1998 Dodge Dakota. After the death of his family, ripped apart by werewolves, Ryan had sold his house and Dodge Ram to acquire money for his private war against the city’s werewolf and vampire population.

He pulled out of the parking garage, slipped in a cassette tape, Queensryche’s greatest hits. He drove through the city, heading west on Detroit Ave. picking up west Sixty-sixth Street; then he took left on I-90 and continued west-leaving Cleveland, until tonight.

Ryan pulled into his apartment complex just outside of the city, he wasn’t worried; between the life insurance and retiring with twenty three years in the U.S. Army, his monthly checks were more then enough to get by; plus, it left him more time to train.