“Shit!” Ben yelped as he fell backwards while trying to pull his sock on. He clunked his head on his bedside table and knocked the lamp over. “Ahh!” Ben had been cursing himself all morning for forgetting to iron his shirt and pants. It had been stuffed in his wardrobe on top of a cardboard box for about three years. Nothing a little spritz and a go-over with the iron couldn’t fix.
He fumbled with his tie in the bathroom mirror, his toothbrush hanging out of one side of his mouth. He found his jacket, dusted it off and tried it on. “Still fits!” An old bottle of gel helped him tame his hair to a presentable level.
He checked himself in the mirror once he’d fashioned himself, “It’ll do. Not like am applying for prime minister.”
In his flurry, Ben had readied himself with a little too much time to spare. He opted to check some resources online. “Top ten interview tips.” Ben nodded and looked through the article, “What a load of rubbish…ask them questions?” He shook his head, “waste of time,” he muttered, “Just give me the job.”
Ben sighed and rubbed his chin. “Fuck it.” He clicked on the odd link again. There were so many links to click on still. He felt apprehensive, the last video gave him the creeps and he was concerned about what he’d be subjected to, but he couldn’t stop himself.
The next link was another video, all of them had a found footage quality to them. With modern-day filters, it would be impossible to determine the voracity of the content. Nonetheless Ben found it compelling.
The video was definitely from a mobile phone and this one had more talking. It was outside and they were walking towards what looked to be the wall surrounding a Support Sector. The video never quite let Ben see past the wall which was frustrating as now he was desperate to find out what it’s like in there.
A man spoke over the top of the footage: “Here it is, folks. The new mind control centre where they condition you, don’t get captured…” He continued to walk around until a little blue cabin came into view, the same as the one he met Dave in. “This building here is where they get you, people walk in here and come out brainwashed, I think they perform some sort of operation on you or something.”
Ben shook his head. He knew this to be false, he knew what was inside these rooms. In his case, it was the best place he’d visited for a while. Dave had been a God send. Not impressed with the author's ramblings or the footage, he closed the video and moved on to the next link.
The page was just black. “Hm.” Ben clicked around randomly and managed to highlight hidden text that was the same colour as the background. “Ah..” He grabbed as much as he could. It was all in capitals, repeated with no spaces: DON’T LET THEM HELP. Ben found his nerves rattled and thought it best to close his laptop lest he shake himself silly before his big interview.
Ben checked the clock. “Time to go.” he had left himself an hour and a half to get there which was probably more than enough, but he hated finding new places. He started his car which chugged a few times before ticking over. “Thank fuck.”
His phone rang before he set off. Dave. “Morning, David” Ben said in a bright tone.
“Good morning, sir! Ready for your interview?”
“Yes, got my suit on, dressed for court.”
David reeled off a hearty chuckle. “Good to hear you’re in high spirits, Ben! Thought I’d call to give a little check-in and such.”
“Appreciate it. By the way, any movement on my lender issue?”
David paused. “Ah, your payments are due. I have promised them that you’ll be in for a new role that will satisfy the financial needs.”
“And?” Ben bit his lip.
“Well, I didn’t want to discuss this so as not to apply any extra pressure on you.”
Ben frowned, “I can handle pressure, Dave, I don’t need to have things hidden for my benefit.”
“Of course, Ben.” Dave’s bubbly voice made it impossible not to forgive him. “If you get this job, they will complete a risk assessment based on your new income and if the numbers are accurate, which they are, they’ll give you an extension and payment plan.”
“So that’ll save me?”
“Well, it will keep you in your lovely home, Benjamin!” Dave chortled.
“Fantastic! You’re a lifesaver, Dave.”
“Let me help, and you will be rewarded.” Dave’s voice warmed further.
Ben frowned, “Yeah.”
“Well, good luck with your interview, Ben.”
“Maybe you could pull some strings for me at the company? Let them know I’m good?”
Dave paused. “Now, Ben, you don’t need that, you’re good enough.”
Ben smiled. “Thanks, pal, bye.”
“Tata.”
Ben set his phone in the middle compartment and was about to drive off but saw Ste leaving his house. “Hey Ste!” he waved at him.
Ste waved back and nodded, his mouth was flat. He locked up the door and set the keys on his doorstep.
Ben watched curiously before lowering his car window. “Are you leaving today, pal?”
Ste looked at him and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Where’s all your stuff?”
“It’s getting collected later apparently, they do all the hard lifting for you.”
Ben’s brow raised, “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” He stuck his hand out towards Ste.
Ste accepted the offer and shook his hand. “See you around, Ben.”
Ben noticed that he looked off like he was about to cry. “Well, good luck!” He put himself in gear and drove out onto the main road. He felt a little guilty for just zipping off, but the situation was stumbling into the awkward zone, a place he didn’t need to be before the biggest interview of his life.
Dave’s approach may have been the better choice. Now that he was aware of the stakes, everything got a little more frosty. His vision cleared up and he could hear his heartbeat. The droning of the radio just irritated him. Signs flashed by him, he read them but didn’t process what they said, or maybe he processed them without reading, whatever the case he was going the right way, like a second nature had kicked in. Instinct guided him and by the thralls of the land it’d lead him to folly or success.
The drive was clear. Like always. Only a few cars on the road and the odd person wandering about. The motorway entrance was closed, but it wasn’t much different on the back roads. He’d be there in good time. He calmed his nerves a little through deep breaths and light humming. Ben wished he had spent longer checking out interview tips rather than scrolling through that stupid website. Conspiracy crap could be addictive, especially when some of it rang true.
Ben huffed, “What now? More fuckin’ road works?” Ahead was a blockade with a few officers standing around. Cars had backed up, but they were going through. “Looks like a police check.” He stopped behind the last car and checked his mirrors to re-adjust his tie.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Setting off early had proved beneficial and the queue of cars wasn’t exactly flying through the barrier. Sometimes everyone had to back up a little to let out a car that wasn’t permitted. This had Ben a little worried.
The officer waved Ben towards him and he gently pulled his car between the two make-shift booths. “Morning officers, something happening?”
The officer bent over and looked into Ben’s car, “License.”
Ben lifted his bum off the seat to fish out his wallet from his back pocket. “Second.” He opened up the leather pouch and slid the card free, offering it to the hooked-nosed man.
“Moment, sir.”
“Cheers.”
Ben watched the officer duck into the little booth. He could see through the window that he was checking his laptop for something. In a couple of minutes, the officer rose and headed out towards him again.
“You got your movement zone extension?”
Ben frowned, “My what?”
“Movement zone extension. Your license isn’t updated with anything, but if you got the receipt I can check it.”
“I don’t even know what that is, look, I just want to go about half an hour down the road, I’m going to Fairview Business Park.”
“You can’t drive out of your movement zone if you haven’t got the extension.”
“I don’t know what that is! I have a driving license, I can drive where I please. This is my car and I pay my bloody road tax.”
“Sorry, sir, can’t let you through.”
“Well am going through, you can ticket me.”
“You’ll be arrested, I wouldn’t bother.”
Ben clenched his steering wheel and twisted his palms around it until he could feel his skin burning. “Just need to get to an interview, it’s literally down the road, do me a favour.”
“No, sir.”
“Ok, where do I get this movement thing from?”
“Website, government one, or you can apply by mail.”
“How much? I’ll buy one now.”
“For this gate, it’s £50 for five days.”
“That’s extortionate! Ten quid a day to drive through here? When was this set up?”
“Last year, sir.”
Ben hadn’t been this far out in some time. “So you’re just highway robbery men.”
BEEP. The car behind Ben honked. Another officer moved around to speak to the impatient driver.
“Sir, you’re holding everyone up. Move out of the line.”
“I want to go through.”
“Not happening, reverse out, go back. You can buy one online.”
“How long does it take?”
“A day.”
“My interview is in forty minutes!”
“Well, sir, you should have prepared shouldn’t you?”
“Look if I don’t get to this inter–”
“Sir, get out of the way, or I’ll drag you out of the car myself, no extension, no pass, do you understand?”
The car behind honked again.
Ben leaned out of his window and looked behind, “Fuck off!”
“Last warning, sir.”
Ben punched his steering wheel before submitting to instruction and reversing out. He turned the car around and pulled up on the side of the road. “Fucking twats!”
He fumbled for his phone and with shaky hands called Dave’s number.
“SS9, how can I help?”
“I need to speak to Dave Blakely, please.”
“I’m sorry, Dave isn’t available right now, can I leave a message?”
“It’s an emergency, please.”
“If it’s an emergency then we advise calling the police.”
“Not that kind of emergency, look I really need to speak to him, please.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“It’s going to cost me my house, I’m dying here, I need help.”
“I understand.”
“You understand?”
“Yes, sir. But he’s not available.”
“Look–”
“Thank you for calling SS9, bye now.”
The line went dead. “Fuck!” Ben launched his phone into the back seat of his car. “Alright Ben, time to take responsibility.” He took a few breaths, gathered his phone, and wallet then exited his car. “Right, let’s get runnin’”
Ben slammed his door shut and started running. He ran as fast as he could for the first couple of minutes but soon got tired and slowed to a jog and then to a fast walk. His feet ached and his chest burned. He sucked in the air and would try to speed up every few seconds. He checked the time on his phone. He hadn’t a chance of getting there early.
While pushing himself down the road he called the company he was due to have an interview with.
“Good morning EnderZel.”
“Good,” Ben gasped for air, “Sorry, good morning, I’m Ben Yeoman, am due for an interview this morning.”
“Ah lovely.”
“I got pulled up at the movement zone thing, I have to run here, I might be a bit later, can I get my interview moved back?”
“Sorry, sir, we have them all day, you need to get here at the allotted time.”
“No chance I could swap? It’d really help me out.”
“I understand, but no, sorry.”
Ben squeezed his eyes shut and contained a whimper. “I was sent from SS9, by Dave Blakely, he recommends me highly.”
“Ok, sir.”
Ben waited in anticipation.
“Hope to see you there.”
Ben frowned as the line went dead. “Bitch.” He stuffed his phone into his pocket and started a weak run towards the business park. It was tough running in a suit and he’d soon be drenched in sweat. Looking like a total mess.
He rounded the corner into the business park. His cheap slip-on shoes were scuffed to all hell and his hair had broken free of its gelatinous hold thanks to all the sweat.
Hobbling now, Ben made it through the big glass double doors into a comfortable reception area. The long leather couches beckoned but he was too full of adrenalin to sit down. He walked right up to the counter and pushed the bell.
A secretary arrived. She was short, pretty and well-dressed. Her blond hair was put up into a tight bun. Her green eyes flashed a moment when she caught sight of Ben’s raggedy condition. “Ah, hello?”
“Hi, I’m Ben Yeoman, I think we spoke on the phone.”
She pushed out her lower lip and shook her head. “Are you here for a meeting?”
“Yeah, a job interview.”
“One moment. What did you say your name was?”
“Ben Yeoman.”
“A moment please.”
Ben watched the cute lady wander off to the back of the reception area, she picked up a phone and began talking. He couldn’t resist the allure of the couch and so went to sit down. His feet immediately stopped aching and he breathed out slowly.
The receptionist glanced over at him. He smiled back. She made an unsettling face in return.
Ben raised his chin when the receptionist had placed the receiver down tentatively. He stood and headed to the desk.
“Mr Yeoman, I’m afraid you’re too late for your interview and they’ve decided to not go ahead with the application. I am so very sorry.”
“What? Look at me. I had to run here because I had some car issues, I honestly busted myself for this, there is no one more driven than me. Please, please have a chat with them, let them know.”
“I understand.” She nodded. “But they were very adamant that they can’t continue with the application.”
Ben backed up slowly and sat on the couch. He began to sob into his hands.
“Mr Yeoman.”
He ignored the receptionist as he gave in to the flooding emotions.
“Mr Yeoman.”
“Yes?” He wiped his eyes.
“We’d prefer it if you left now.”
“Can I not just have two minutes? I ran here to find out I’m losing my house.”
The receptionist's face twisted. “Sorry?”
Before Ben could elaborate, two large security guards impeded his view of the desk. “Time to go.” said one of the men.
Ben stood up and sniffed. “Right.” he hobbled out of the office slowly.
He began the slow walk back to his car. Afternoon rolled over and the wind grew a sharp chill that cut through the fine linen of his shirt.
His phone rang. Dave.
“Hi.”
“Ben, how did it go?”
“You’d know if you were there to answer my call.”
“Oh? I did get a message you called. What happened?”
“The pigs, they said I couldn’t drive past a movement zone.”
“Right, you did set up your movement pass right?”
“No. I didn’t know.”
“I told you yesterday, in the email I sent.”
Ben frowned. Suddenly it became his fault again. “I didn’t read that. I swear I read it three times to get the company details.”
“It’s right there, Ben. In plain English.”
“Well it’s all done, those shitheads wouldn’t interview me.”
“Ben, this is the second time I have been let down by you. First your arrest, now your interview.” Dave’s voice had taken that off-tone again, like a disappointed father.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, I ran–”
“You sound like a child, Benjamin.”
“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Dave?”
Dave hung up.