Position 69

Chapter 1 Vic Braunson was in a foul mood. It wasn’t any one thing in particular that had him pissed off. Nothing he could look back on as the day progressed and point to as the reason he was so damn mad. But he’d woken up late, hadn’t had time for breakfast, hell, hadn’t had time to shower before he had to get dressed and rush out the door. Then traffic snarled up, so he jumped off the interstate and had to deal with inner city snafus and badly timed red lights and the damn city buses driven by a bunch of idiots. Yeah, idiots. His coworkers, the lot of them. Some days Vic thought he might be the only bus driver in the whole city of Richmond who actually knew how to drive. Luckily he wasn’t too late getting in, but before he could snag his keys and get back on the road, his boss tagged him in the locker room, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder while Vic was at his locker. “Come see me when you’re done, Braunson.” It wasn’t a request. The cloud hanging over him darkened. He tried not to slam his locker and failed miserably. Vic glanced around, sure someone had heard, but Mr. Morrison had already disappeared into his office and the locker room was empty. Still, he was careful not to stomp towards the open office door. Outside the doorway he took a deep breath, wishing he could go home and crawl back into bed, start all over again. Was that asking too much? Or, better yet, just fast forward eight hours to quitting time, when his lover Matty would be home, too, waiting for him. Vic knew for sure his spirits would improve then. Everything about his man cheered him up. But first he had to get through the day. Bracing himself, he stepped into his boss’s office. What the hell was this all about anyway? “You want to see me?” he asked, his gruff voice gruffer than usual. Morrison sat behind his desk, a pile of timecards in front of him as he toyed with his cellphone. From his regular typing pattern, Vic suspected he was playing a game, Candy Crush maybe. The thought was almost humorous enough to make Vic smile. Instead, he pressed his lips together, refusing to lighten up. Without looking at Vic, Morrison nodded. “You missed the meeting this morning.” The meeting. As if a five minute pep talk before the first shift rolled out constituted a meeting. “I’m second shift,” Vic reminded his boss. “Come in at twelve.” Morrison smirked. “Well, yeah.” Vic’s brows scrunched together as he frowned. So am I supposed to show up at a meeting held six hours before I have to be at work? To him, the answer seemed obvious. No. But he bit back the question. “What’d I miss?” Now Morrison did glance up at Vic. “Pulse training tomorrow, remember?” Pulse… Then Vic remembered. The city was going to install a fast transit system running from the heart of downtown to the shops and businesses at the Willow Lawn shopping center. It’d been in the works for years, and to be honest, Vic was a little surprised to hear it would finally be moving forward. There would be two buses running straight down Broad Street, with dedicated lanes to keep them out of the flow of traffic and improve their speed. But existing bus routes were going to be changed to accommodate the Pulse. Routes would be consolidated or rerouted, some removed altogether. It promised to be a lot of headache, if Vic were being honest. He wasn’t looking forward to the changes. “Training?” Vic echoed. As far as he knew, the Pulse was still on the drawing board. Why train on something that wasn’t even up and running yet? Morrison explained, “It’s the regular quarterly safety meeting, but it’s going to include information on the upcoming changes we’ll have to make as soon as the Pulse comes on line. It’ll be stretched out over three days—” Vic groaned. Now he really did wish he were back in bed. A three-day training on s**t he probably already knew? “Don’t worry,” Morrison assured him. “You won’t have to do all three days. We just have to spread it out so we can keep the buses running and make sure everyone attends. You’re down for tomorrow. Be here at six.” “In the morning?” Vic asked. Setting his phone aside, Morrison said, “Yeah. Six to two, first shift. Someone else will take your route for the day.” Great. Vic wanted to point out that he usually worked until eight in the evening, which meant he needed time once he got home to eat dinner and unwind. Most nights he didn’t get to bed before midnight. And tomorrow he’d have to drag his ass out of bed at the crack of dawn with only a few hours of sleep under his belt. His bad mood darkened. With a noncommittal grunt, he turned away. This time he didn’t care about stomping out.