Prospero's Half-Life Read Free

rumbled amiably, “why not? Give me the longest
service contracts you’ve got on the laptop and whatever you
normally recommend for the hard drives”.
    Richard nodded
to Samantha, who keyed the additions into her register. This took a
moment, as the antiquated system demanded that she input each
warranty separately for each hard drive. When she was done, she
pressed the total button and issued an involuntary “oh my god”.
    “ What’s the damage?” the stranger asked, grinning
widely.
    “ Nine thousand, three hundred and sixty-seven dollars and
forty-five cents” she replied incredulously. Richard coughed
politely. The man gestured impatiently for Samantha to count out
the money. She did so, with professional speed, and soon had it
divided into two very uneven piles.
    “ This one’s yours” she remarked, pushing the smaller pile
towards the stranger. He picked it up and pocketed it without so
much as a second glance.
    “ Can I help you with anything else?” Richard asked, adding a
hoped-for note of finality to his voice.
    “ Bill”, the man grunted. Richard stuck out his hand.
    “ Richard Adams” he replied. The man laughed uproariously and
Richard reddened.
    “ No, the receipt”, he said, pointing to Samantha, who was
handing it over at that moment. Richard ground his
teeth.
    Richard
escorted the man out, just as if her were the last customer before
closing time on any normal night.
    “ Troy Larkson, by the way”, the man said, hoisting the knapsack
onto his shoulders.
    “ Nice to meet you”, Richard replied, a trifle sullenly.
“Pleasure doing business”.
    “ Likewise”, Troy Larkson said, giving a loose little salute
with his right hand.
     
    Richard did
not watch Troy Larkson leave. He instead began very rapidly the
process of closing up.
    “ What were we thinking?” he chastised to himself as he pulled
the heavy steel gates across the front display windows. “Any random
person could have walked through those doors. We’re asking to be
murdered”.
    Samantha did
not reply. She was morosely re-counting Troy Larkson’s payment and
marking the figures down on a reconciliation form. Richard had
insisted on it, for completion’s sake.
    “ I should have just closed up and moved on once I arrived. I
especially had no right to endanger you like that”.
    Samantha
shrugged. “My boyfriend didn’t come home four nights ago. My
parents and my brother are dead. My only friends are the people who
work here, and they’re pretty much all dead too. I’ve had to hide
in the corner of my bedroom furthest from the window with the
lights off for the past week because I can hear crazy people in the
streets all night. This seemed a lot safer than that”.
    Richard
blinked. It was such a matter-of-fact tone that she used, as if it
were a dry recitation of some mundane technical information.
    “ I hate listening to the sick people”, she continued, motoring
along in that same too-level voice. “I hate that I have to listen
to some of them die outside my window. I hate listening to them
vomit, and groan, and I hate listening to the gunshots”.
    “ Where do you live?” Richard asked.
    “ Across from the hospital. There’s a bunch of people barricaded
inside and they’ve been shooting any sick person who gets too
close”.
    Richard said
nothing. He wasn’t sure if there was anything to be said.
    “ You can come see it if you want”, she offered. “If you don’t
have anywhere else to be, I mean. It’s safe enough in the day, the
sick people don’t like the light and the crazy people don’t seem to
come out much in the day either. The people in the hospital will
only shoot you if you’re on their side of the street”.
    Richard didn’t
actually have anywhere else to go, and said as much.
    “ My neighbours are all dead, and my family lives pretty far
away”. He paused for a moment. “I wasn’t entirely sure what I was
going to do after this” he said, as if realizing this fact for