Part 3

                                    

                                          
When Dennis woke up in the morning, feeling like he hadn’t slept at all, there was no evidence of lye or dirt on his old clothes. In fact, there was no evidence of what he had worn last night. There were no tools, no chemical smell, and no sign even of the clean-up.
He dressed and ate his breakfast feeling exhausted in body and mind. He picked up his book bag and walked out the door, taking care to lock it behind him.
On the bus, his blank expression concealed a buzzing hive of recollection, double- and triple-checking the events from the night prior.
Someone’s headphones were leaking, and the beat of some song or other was the only thing to penetrate his swirling mind.
On his walk from the bus stop to the gate guard, he scanned the ground for anything out of place. He noted skid marks on the asphalt, but was unable to determine their origin.
He showed his pass to the guard. As usual, the two exchanged no words, but he allowed Dennis through before returning to his paperwork.
Several steps past the gate, he was halted by someone shouting, “Hey! Wait!”
The guard was jogging towards Dennis.
He contemplated running, but couldn’t decide before the guard was on him.
“I need to see your badge again,” the guard said. He was trying to conceal the fact that he was out of breath.
“My badge?” Dennis asked dumbly, while holding it up on its lanyard again.
The guard looked between it and Dennis.
 He put on a knowing look and Dennis’ blood ran cold.
“I thought I recognized you,” he said slowly.
“Yeah?” was all Dennis could manage.
“Yeah, your badge needs to be updated. You've got the old version. It got outmoded two months ago. I’d been meaning to tell you for a while, but I always think about it too late.” He chuckled.
It was all Dennis could do to keep from letting out a sigh.
Instead, he said, “I'll be sure to do that.”
The two stood there in silence for a few moments, Dennis thinking that any second the guard would turn back to the guard house.
“You’re the guy always coming in on foot,” the guard said matter-of-factly.
Dennis let it hang in the air, as it obviously wasn't a question.
The guard still didn't turn back.
“Don't you have a car?” the guard asked finally.
“No, I don’t,” Dennis said. “I was diagnosed with, among other things, chronic anxiety. A car is too much personal responsibility.”
The guard nodded knowingly, as people uninformed of Dennis’ condition typically do.
Dennis checked his watch.
It told him he was off-schedule.
If he was off-schedule, people could get suspicious, and he cursed this guard for holding him up after all his careful work.
“Thank you, have a good day,” he said hastily and turned to go into the ApoTech building.
“Get that badge changed, ok?” he heard the guard call after him.
Dennis climbed the stairs as he usually did, and paced down the short hallway to his cubicle.
He had only moments to get his laptop hooked up by his usual time.