Lonny's hand was on his stomach as he pushed the glass door open to the employee exit. He was leaving work early, a thing he never did. But this...
He doubled over in pain as another stomach cramp hit him, grimaced, panted a few times to get through the stabbing pains, finally lifting himself up to try to cross over to the parking garage. The security guard sitting behind her check-in counter had raised her head out of her magazine when he doubled over, and now asked, "You alright there? Need me to call anyone?"
Lonny raised a hand to wave off any help, and shook his head briefly. He didn't want to risk opening his mouth to speak in case the pain could be heard in his voice. It must be food poisoning. He was halfway across to the parking garage when a dark movement in the corner of his eye made him turn.
A slender woman in a dark suit strode toward the guard, her heels clip-clopping on the pavement. She saw neither person, eyes fixed on the door, not even slowing as she flashed an ID badge at the guard. The determined face and determined pace, along with the professional suit, told Lonny she was corporate and something was going down. He watched her pass, half-hoping she'd match that furious determination with enough power to wrench the industrial glass door off its hinges.
He was disappointed in that hope. Her pace never faltered as she reached out a hand and smacked the button for disabled accessibility a few feet before the doors, which opened just in time for her to continue through this back entrance to the lobby.
After such a fierce entrance, however, the woman stopped, turned left and right, then opened a panel on the huge pillar to her left, keying into whatever was in the box. bolts dropped through the doors, top and bottom. It was a lockdown.
Lonny looked at the guard, who was still watching the woman with a corporate ID through the back of the lobby. He was torn between wanting to ask her what was going on, and not wanting to draw attention to himself. If it was a lockdown, calling attention to himself might mean going back inside, and he needed to see a doctor.
In the elevator to his parking level, he wondered if it was about the joke someone posted on Twitter the night before. It made the CEO a laughingstock, and Lonny thought he might have just enough temper to miss the joke and lockdown the building until the tweeter was found. Someone could get fired today, but it wouldn't be Lonny.
It's FICTION FRIDAY!
Every Friday I write a new flash fiction piece. If you have a writing prompt you'd like to see turned into a story, just leave it in a comment.