Chapter 1

From a distance, the middle-aged man didn’t look like anyone special. Most people would consider his appearance to be average. He was of average height and average weight with short cropped dull brown hair and a tendency to have a five o’clock shadow by late afternoon. It wasn’t until one got closer to him that his more distinctive features were noticeable. His loose baggy clothes hid muscles created by hours of hard exercise performed daily. A small scar on his left cheek, made more obvious by his tan, gave him a dangerous appearance. He looked like someone who had seen violence in his life.

He lived an isolated quiet life in a small efficiency apartment. He greeted no one and ignored all attempts at conversation. None of his neighbors would have even known his name except for the fact that ‘Samuel Reynolds’ was printed in large block letters on his mailbox. None of his neighbors even bothered to learn that much about him.

Samuel worked for an insurance company with the impressive title of Grounds Maintenance Engineer which was a politically correct way of saying that he was a gardener. It was a structured job in which the work performed followed the seasons. In the summer, he mowed the lawn, trimmed the hedges, and edged the walkways. In the fall, he raked leaves and prepared the flowerbeds for winter. In the winter, he plowed the snow from the parking lot, cleared the walkways, and maintained the equipment for the coming year. In the spring, he planted flowers. In short, it was a job that didn’t require him to interact with people.

Every Monday morning, his boss, John Delgado, called him into the office for the purpose of laying out the work for the rest of the week. The meeting this particular Monday morning was going to deviate a little from normal. Without saying a word, Samuel took his normal seat to get his marching orders for the day. He stared down at the floor while listening, giving an occasional nod of his head to indicate that he understood what he was being asked to do.

Although used to that kind of behavior from Samuel, John didn’t like it. These Monday morning briefings with the man felt a lot like talking to a wall. However, John preferred it to those few occasions when Samuel looked him in the eye. Bringing up the last bit of business for the morning, John said, “I got an e-mail from personnel. They said you haven’t identified a beneficiary for your insurance.”

Acknowledging that he was fully aware that he didn’t have a beneficiary, Samuel nodded his head and waited to be dismissed. Not trusting the curt nod of the head, John said, “You need to take care of that.”

Lifting his head and swiveling it to face John, Samuel looked the other man in the eye. John hated the flat blank look that seemed to last forever. The absence of any sign of life within the man’s eyes sent chills down John’s spine. Looking away, John said, “I’m serious. You need to go to personnel and take care of it.”

The middle aged man rose from the chair assuming that the discussion was closed and left the office to start mowing the lawn. Calling out to Samuel’s retreating back, John shouted, “Do it before you mow the lawn.”

John settled in his chair listening to the rattle created by the maintenance bay door opening. A few seconds later, it was followed by the sound of the mower starting. Fully aware that he had been blown off, he swore, “Two can play that game.”

After making a telephone call, John went over to a bay door and watched Samuel drive away. Behind him, he could hear two of the other men who worked for him talking about the sports events of the weekend. They should have already left the maintenance area to take care of the first item on their work list. As a boss he knew that he should interrupt the conversation and send them out to work, but after dealing with Samuel he appreciated the sounds of people being people too much to break it up.

For ten minutes he watched Samuel drive the mower across the large front lawn of the insurance company property. It would take the entire day to mow the lawn. The property was thirty acres and the front lawn was fifteen acres of well cared for grass. A small hill with the name of the insurance company in stone faced the main road that passed by the facility. A two lane drive cut through the property branching to large employee parking lots on the sides of the building and to a smaller visitor’s lot at the front door.

Normally a property of that size would have two or more gardeners, but Samuel managed to take care of it alone. The man worked at a steady pace throughout the day. He took the mandated breaks, but never paused from his work otherwise. He even took sips from the ever present water bottle while riding the mower. John might not have liked Samuel, but he had to admit the man was a good worker.

During the lunch break, John carried his lunch tray to a table next to one of the windows that looked out over the outdoor picnic area in back of the office building. He watched Samuel take his normal seat at an isolated picnic table. The other tables were occupied by smokers and others wanting a little sun during their lunch time. Most tables were filled with folks engaged in typical lunchtime conversations while eating their lunches.

Samuel sat where he could observe others without having to directly face them. No one even glanced in his direction. It was as if a wall existed between him and everyone else. He reached into his brown paper bag and removed a sandwich, small bag of chips, a piece of fruit, and a small bottle of soda. He ate the contents mechanically without demonstrating even the barest pleasure from taking his meal.

A light gray tabby cat that had incorporated the picnic area into its territory appeared from the edge of the hedges that lined the side of the building. It slowly padded its way over to the picnic area; pausing occasionally to check for any potential threats. The cat changed course to arrive beside Samuel. It sat six paces from Samuel’s table at an angle to the middle aged man without once looking at the man.

Samuel never glanced in the direction of the stray cat. Despite the man’s apparent disinterest in the feline, John watched him pull some of the lunch meat out of his sandwich and toss it to the ground in front of the cat. The cat, without looking in Samuel’s direction, grabbed the meat and retreated to an isolated area.

John had seen the man feed the cat in the past. He didn’t know what to make of Samuel’s actions. Shaking his head, John turned to his tray and started to eat. Jeff Conklin sat down at the table across from him. Jeff said, “I’ve assigned Julia Powers to meet with Samuel.”

“Lucky her,” John said with a snort.

“She’s fairly attractive in a non-threatening way. Maybe she’ll get through to him,” Jeff said after looking around to make sure that he wasn’t overheard.

John said, “I doubt it.”

“Is he still one of the walking dead?” Jeff asked.

“The man is a zombie,” John answered.

Jeff said, “That’s not our problem to solve.”

“I know. You just don’t have to deal with him every day,” John said. He looked out the window and watched Samuel eat his sandwich in a mechanical fashion.

“Is he a problem?” Jeff asked.

“He doesn’t do anything wrong. He’s just creepy,” John answered.

“Creepy in what way?”

“I just keep waiting for the day when he comes in with a gun and kills everyone,” John answered.

This had not been one of his concerns when he had been promoted to his supervisory position. He had looked forward to the increase in pay without giving thought to the problems of dealing with people.

Concerned, Jeff asked, “Has he given any signs that he is thinking about doing that?”

“Not really. I just keep thinking that it is the quiet ones who perform the most violent actions,” John answered. It was a common theme in news reports of violence.

John worked through the afternoon overseeing the work done by the men who worked for him. It was nearly quitting time when there was a knock on the door frame of his office. The knock was accompanied by, “I’m Julia Powers from personnel. I’m here about Samuel Reynolds.”

“Thanks for coming, Ms. Powers,” John Delgado said while rising from his chair.

He prided himself on being a gentleman despite his blue collar background although there were times when he thought that it was because of his blue collar background that he was a gentleman. He took a moment to examine the young woman. She was in her late twenties and, despite being a tad overweight, was an attractive woman. She was dressed in a conservative brown suit; the skirt falling to just below her knees and the jacket covering a simple white shirt.

“Just call me Julia,” she replied thinking it would let him know that she was not one to look down on men who worked with their hands for a living. Most of the people she dealt with in her job were secretaries and salaried people with college educations, but she came from a blue collar background.

“I know this is a Mohammed and the mountain kind of thing, but Samuel wasn’t ever going to go to your office,” John said apologetically.

“I went through his file,” Julia said.

Her friendly face took on a dark hue while recalling the details about Samuel’s life. She hadn’t liked what she had read within his file. She had been particularly disgusted by what she had read after searching the internet using his name as the query.

“I may not like him, but he’s a good employee,” John said knowing what had caused the change in her appearance. “He’s never late to work and he does his job. He’s never taken a sick day.”

“Yeah, but...”

“You and I might not like what he did, but he served his time,” John said waving a hand to cut her off.

“I know,” Julia said.

She wasn’t going to make a big deal out of Samuel’s past, but knowing what he had done made it difficult for her to face the man.

Stepping out from behind his desk, John said, “Use my desk.”

“Thank you,” Julia said dropping her stack of papers on the desk.

She had Samuel’s personnel folder and a stack of benefits forms to fill out. In reviewing his file she had realized that there were several problems with his paperwork.

“I’ll wait outside in the hallway while you’re in here with him. If you need anything, just give me a call,” John said. He recognized that the young woman was well out of her comfort zone at the prospect of dealing with Samuel.

Appreciating that John would remain nearby, Julia said, “That will make me feel much better about this.”

“Let me warn you; don’t look him in the eyes,” John said.

Wondering if a direct look would be interpreted as a threat by the man, Julia asked, “Does it make him go postal?”

“No. You just won’t like what you see,” John said cryptically.

He couldn’t contain the shiver that went through his body just thinking about it.

Near the end of the work day, Samuel returned the mower to the maintenance bay. He had just finished washing it and was getting ready to clock out. John stepped into the work area and said, “Julia Powers from Personnel is waiting for you in my office. You need to talk to her before you leave.”

Looking over at the door of John’s office, Samuel shrugged his shoulders.

Pointing towards the office door, John said, “Now.”

The middle-aged man went into the office and sat down without greeting the woman seated at the desk. She looked up at him to find that he was staring at the floor without looking at her. Nervous, she asked, “Are you Samuel Reynolds?”

She glanced up from the papers spread out in front of her in time to see that Samuel nodded his head in response to her question. She had expected to see prison tattoos on his arms, but his arms were bare. The scar on his face and the obvious muscles of his arms did give him a dangerous look that increased the fear she felt.

Accepting his non-verbal response as an affirmation of his identity, she said, “I need the name of a beneficiary for your life insurance policy.”

Samuel shifted his gaze from the floor to her. Without saying a word, he stared at her for a full minute. It wasn’t a challenging or belligerent expression on his face. In fact, there was absolutely no emotion in his face. After the first few seconds, Julia was extremely uncomfortable. By the end of the minute, she was ready to run out of the room. Trying to invoke some kind of verbal response, she said, “I just need the name of a family member.”