A safe full of money means prosperity. An unlocked, empty safe could mean many things. It could mean potential. It could mean destitution. For Zoe, the empty safe under her bed meant she trusted the wrong person.

It meant someone had to die.

Dramatic?

Zoe wasn’t sure. She pondered her murderous intent as she drove away from her house. It all depended on Ben’s expression when she confronted him. His reaction would determine the length of his life.

Traffic has a way of slow-cooking rage.

With quiet conviction, she entered her clinic and closed the door behind her. Mid-morning LA traffic silenced, sunlight blocked, no pedestrians, no nothing as she strolled into the pastel-colored, air-conditioned waiting room. It was too early for any patients to sit in the linoleum seats.

No witnesses.

She waved at the receptionist as she walked past, but then she paused.

“Who are you?” she asked with a frown.

The young blonde woman behind the desk looked up from texting.

“Oh, good morning!” she slid her phone away. “Do you have an appointment?”

Zoe held back a sigh as the receptionist looked her up and down. She supposed she looked like a patient. Long dark hair, smooth brown skin, and features that were a genetic blessing, a surgical gift, or a combination of both.

Everyone has their secrets.

“This is my clinic,” Zoe said. “But I don’t recognize you.”

“Huh? Oh… oh! You must be Dr. Chambers,” the receptionist smiled. “I’m Heather. Dr. Andrews hired me so Mandy could take some time off.”

“Mandy’s taking time off?”

“Umm, yes? Dr. Andrews told me this was all normal.”

“I’ve been away for a few days,” Zoe forced a smile and she clenched and unclenched her fists. “Is Dr. Andrews in?”

“He should be in his office, but he told me…”

“What did he tell you?”

Heather chewed her lower lip

“To tell him if you arrived…”

“What? Well, let’s just keep it our secret. I’m going to surprise him.”

“Umm, ok…”

Zoe stalked away from the receptionist and into the hall. Dr. Andrews’ office lay at the far end. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the gilded letters spelling out the traitor’s name.

She passed posters of before and after implants. Rhinoplasties. Lifts, and tucks. She stopped at the supply closet. Should she reach inside and take a scalpel? It would feel good to storm in on the bastard with a blade in hand. So many memories told her it was better to face trouble with something sharp in her hands…

How dare he book her a three-day stay at a decrepit resort in nowhere California like he was doing her a favor? She could still see the note on her kitchen counter when she returned; Thanks for the memories.

He didn’t even thank her for the fifty thousand in cash he took from the safe under her bed. She took a scalpel from the closet and a genuine smile crept across her face for the first time that day.

The steel blade tucked into her grip. It felt right. She held it behind her back as she knocked on his door. No answer.

She barged in, already picturing the arterial spray. One slice across the throat, and then she would run. Out onto the streets, like some murderous hobo. She’d run for the hills. Out in the wild. Return to her roots. Her grin was manic as the door swung open.

But the office lay empty.

Her heart sank. She felt sick with herself. Contemplating murder over money? Sure, she was in debt. Bad debt with the wrong people, but she was better than this…

Wasn’t a savage…

She placed the scalpel on his desk and looked around. His office was neat, sterile, and utterly empty. Untouched since the last time the cleaner did a pass. The lemony scent of window spray hung in the air. She picked up the single framed photo on his desk. Her and Ben Andrews, arm in arm and laughing outside the clinic. The first day of opening. Beginning of their future together.

Three years of love, and where did it go?

She set down the photo. Her heart cooling, hardening, as she knelt and checked the safe under his desk. Door open. Empty.

With a heavy sigh, and heavier steps, she walked into her own office. Dr. Chambers printed in big bold and mocking gold across the opaque glass. She picked out these doors because Ben always said he wanted that old-school touch.

The door swung open and revealed her ransacked office. Notes and folders strewn everywhere. The back window open and fly netting pushed out. Sounds of traffic leaking in. Her safe sat empty. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars replaced with a single yellow post-it note.

Ben’s hastily scrawled handwriting: Too slow, babe.

She screamed.

###

Even though Ben was smart enough to send her away to a phoneless retreat while he enacted his plan, he wasn’t smart enough to hide his emails. It only took Zoe a few minutes to find receipts for two tickets to Australia in his name. Two tickets that took off an hour before she arrived at the clinic.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

She could guess who used the second ticket. How long had Mandy and Ben planned this behind her back?

Zoe told Heather to cancel all upcoming appointments before she hurried back to the apartment she once shared with Ben. Just a small studio while they saved up for a house. The deposit was half the money Ben stole. The other half was for paying off the people who put her through college.

One lump sum that would free her from all shackles.

She was almost thirty. Almost debt free. She worked hard to get there, and now it was all gone because she trusted the wrong person.

These thoughts circled her sanity like sharks around a leaking life raft.

Her anger simmered as she spent a hectic afternoon pawning off everything of value to buy a non-stop red-eye flight from LA to Sydney. The anger got her pulled aside by airport security. They wanted to know her plans, and it was hard to keep the truth from spilling.

But even she didn’t know what she would do to Ben once she found him.

Almost missed her flight, but they finally let her onto the plane.

She leaned against the window and watched the world shrink with rising joy. A night of flying, and then she would be in Australia. There, she would find Ben, and she would make him pay.

###

The moon glowed small but bright above the ocean.

“Do you believe in God?” said the middle-aged man in the middle seat. “Or do you think this is a Godless world?”

Zoe turned away from the window. She smiled and tried to convey with the straightness of her teeth how little she cared about his conversation.

But the man smiled back.

Once again, Zoe regretted the fact a smile meant something different amongst humans than it did with dogs.

He must be twice her age. A heavy beard and a scarecrow frame. He looked like he lived in a bunker.

“It’s a very important question,” he drawled. “I ask because if there is no God, then who makes the rules? Who is the ultimate arbitrator of the morality of any decision?”

Zoe sighed.

Just her luck to be stuck beside someone like this on a twenty-hour flight. The woman on the other side of the man smirked as she drank another vodka and coke. Heavy black headphones over her short blonde hair, though from the way she reacted to every part of the conversation, Zoe doubted anything was playing through them.

“I don’t know,” Zoe said at last. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

He turned to her. Eager. Overbearing.

“Oh, you should really think about it. Everyone should think about it and know, deep down, their answer to this question. Because if there is no God, then everything is permitted. The ultimate arbitrator is simply the strongest. Thus, it becomes our moral obligation to do whatever it is we can enforce.”

His eyes trailed down as he spoke.

Was he checking out her breasts? Was he being that blatant? Zoe frowned at the wedding ring on his finger.

Anger tightened around her stomach.

“If there was no God then murder would be fine, wouldn’t it?”

The man’s eyes widened.

“Well, I don’t know about murder… But certainly, it becomes our prerogative to ensure that we live our lives without shackles.”

Zoe smiled.

“No, you see if there was no God then I could start killing people, say with the surgical tools in my carry-on luggage, and as long as nobody stopped me I would be in the right. Right?”

His smile paled.

“Excuse me, young miss,” he stood. “I need to use the little boys’ room.”

The woman with the headphones stood to let the man out into the aisle. She grinned at Zoe as she sat back down.

“You’re a psycho,” she said with a cheerful Australian accent.

“Oh, so you were listening?”

The woman slipped her headphones around her neck. She seemed about the same age as Zoe, but the smile on her face was light and childish.

“Guilty as charged. You really brought surgical tools onto the plane?”

“No. They took them when I went through the metal detector.”

The woman laughed.

“Oh, wow, you’re not joking. Want to have a drink with me?”

Zoe massaged her forehead.

“Sure.”

The woman knocked back the rest of her drink and pressed the attendant light above her. As she reached up the sleeve of her jumper slid down exposing an incoherent spattering of tattoos.

“Only good thing about international flights is the free booze.”

“I suppose. It can’t be the company.”

The woman placed a hand upon her heart. Pirate symbols inked across her knuckles.

“Wounded,” she chuckled. “I’m Isabella. Call me Bella, you?”

“Call me Zoe.”

They shook hands in the space previously occupied by the older windbag as the flight attendant arrived.

“What’ll you have, Zoe?” Bella asked.

“What are you drinking?”

“It’s a red-eye flight, yeah? I want to order a bloody mary.”

“I’m drinking what you’re drinking.”

“Delightful,” Bella turned to the attendant. “Two of your finest bloody marys, please.”

The hostess returned with two plastic cups half full of vodka and ice and a couple bottles of tomato juice from concentrate. Bella poured out the juice with practiced hands and passed the drink over to Zoe.

“You must try one. It’s the worst bloody mary you’ll ever have. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

They drank, and Zoe grimaced.

“You know,” she said as she tried to rinse her mouth out with more of the concoction. “Today’s been the worst day of my life, but this might be the worst thing that’s happened so far.”

A male voice responded.

“I know something that might cheer you up…”

She looked up at the older man with a frown, but before she could respond she froze. Startled like an animal as an inhuman voice resounded in her head.

[Before the juice upon the tongue, the fruit must ripen. Before the flower grows flesh, the tree must sprout. Before the sapling reaches the sky, the seed must touch the earth. Welcome seeds. Welcome earth.]

Zoe looked around. Her heartbeat grew, flooding panic through her body as she tried to place the voice. She turned to the people beside her.

“Did you hear—?”

[System initializing…]

[System initialized under the authority of The Crimson Armada. Welcome to the System.]

[Do you wish to register?]

[Yes] / [No]

[You have limited time to make your choice.]

[30]

[29]

Zoe blinked. For a second she wondered if God was speaking to her, or maybe something worse…

“What the hell is happening?”

But the numbers kept on counting down.