Jadine’s hand fluttered to her chest as she stared at the strange man. The man tilted his head slightly as he stared back. She had the uncomfortable feeling he was looking right at her, calculating his next move.
“Is this some kind of joke?” She said quietly. The man’s head cocked to the side as if he’d heard her question. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“If it is, it’s gone too far to be funny,” Trevin said drily.
“Do you think he’s one of them?” Stacy was whispering again, her voice choked with fear. She pressed in close to her co-workers taking solace in their nearness. “One of those ‘killer clowns’ that have been on the news lately?”
“Are those real? I thought they were a running gag on the late show,” Trevin said, sweat beading on his brow. His brown eyes, rimmed in black liner, looked impossibly large.
“Killing people isn’t funny, Trevin,” Stacy said fiercely.
“I mean,” he explained impatiently, “I thought the ‘killer clown’ thing was a – a, you know, an urban legend or whatever.”
“I don’t think so,” Stacy said shaking her head, her ponytail brushing her shoulders, a defensive tone creeping into her words. “It was on the news and everything. It must be a real thing.”
“Well, he’s obviously a clown,” Jadine whispered, her fingers wrapped in her own ponytail, twisting the curls anxiously. “Whether he’s a killer or not has yet to be seen.” She regretted the words as soon as they’d left her mouth.
“Oh, God.” Stacy was clutching at her again.
“Calm. Down.” Jadine added emphasis to each word as she pried Stacy’s fingers loose. “He hasn’t done anything but stare at us. He’s probably just some dumb teenager trying to freak people out.” She said it, but she didn’t believe it. What kid would be out in a near blizzard, without a coat, dressed like a clown, staring at people for fun?
“Well, he’s sure as hell freaking me out!” Trevin plucked at his shirt sleeves, wishing to free his arms from their strangle hold, showing flashes of tattoos in the process.
“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do,” Jadine said, attempting to regain her authority and, by extension, her control over the situation. “We’re going to keep the phones handy, but we aren’t going to stand here and stare at him all night. If we ignore him, chances are he’ll go away. We have work to do. Speaking of which,” Jadine turned her attention to Trevin, “isn’t your shift over?”
“Damn, Boss, that’s cold.” Trevin spoke without looking away from the freak across the parking lot. “Trying to force me out the door to be killed by the clown. Even if my shift were over, which it isn’t, I’m not going out there.”
“What are you talking about?” Jadine propped her hands on her hips. “You’re shift ends at ten. It’s a quarter past.”
“Yeah, well, Stacy is my ride so I’m here until midnight.”
“Did you clear that with Nonni? You know how she feels about overtime,” Jadine pressed him. If he did overtime on her watch, she’d take the hit, too. No way was she getting a Nonni lecture on Trevin’s account.
“Of course I cleared it,” Trevin said, rolling his eyes. “My car was stuck so Nonni adjusted my shift so I could ride with Stacy. Totally cool.”
Jadine heaved a sigh. This night was turning into a real headache.
“Fine, whatever. But, we do have work to do. So, as long as you’re here,” she said, pushing as much authority into her voice as she could muster, “grab the broom.” Confrontation was not her strong suit. All she needed was for people to do what she asked them to do, when she asked them to do it. The first time. Without acting like little children trying to weasel out of their chores while still reaping their rewards. She wasn’t their mother! Silently, she steeled herself against any objections she’d need to counter.
“How can you think of work at a time like this?” Stacy demanded. “I still think – ”
“Oh, shit! He’s moving!” Trevin said loudly, pointing out the window. “Ohshitohshitohshit. Quick lock the doors!” He didn’t wait for either woman to respond. Instead, he charged toward the nearest automatic door, which threw itself open in anticipation of his arrival. Trevin let out a squeak of alarm.
“Help me close it!” He shouted, flicking the switch to turn off the sensor.
Stacy stood rooted to the spot, her eyes nearly bulging from her head in terror. Jadine, her mouth hanging open in surprise, gaped at the man now brandishing a large knife. A menacing smile stretched across his lips. Head bobbing slightly, he stepped off the sidewalk.
Then he was running. Fast. How could he move so nimbly over the snow and ice? Jadine was mesmerized. It wasn’t until he rounded the first row of gas pumps that she snapped back to herself. Pushing Stacy out of the way, she ran to Trevin’s aid. Hauling one pane of the glass door to the center while Trevin pushed on the other, they managed to meet in the middle before the clown reached them.
“We need the key!” Trevin’s voice was edging into a falsetto.
“I’ve got my key,” Jadine affirmed loudly, dragging her keyring from her front pocket. Hands shaking, the keys fell from her fingers. They caught on the retractor attached to her belt loop preventing them from hitting the ground. It swung and twisted in the air next to her leg. Fumbling with the thin cord running between the keyring and clip, Jadine struggled to lay hand on the key she needed. At last she had it in her grip. With teeth gritted in concentration, she thrust it into the lock and spun it until the bolt clicked.
Not a second too soon.