If she didn’t hurry, she was going to be late. Kassandra looked down at her watch and read the time- 7:40pm. She had just under half an hour. Hurriedly ushering in some of her bodyguards through the back entrance to her liquor store, she pointed at where she wanted the crates they were hauling to be placed. Out in the alleyway, she heard the booze truck amble away, the Salvation Army logo painted on the side so worn away it was barely legible anymore.

“Liquor goes there.. no, Cal, the wine goes with the wine, over there,” she said. She wondered about these men sometimes. Dumb as a box of rocks, some of them. Could they even read? She had her doubts as another man whose name she couldn’t recall placed a beer keg in the wine section. Before Kass could ask him what his college major was in, another fellow saved him by shaking his head and pointing towards the beer section. The two lifted the keg and moved it to the right spot.

“Okay, I’ll unpack all of this tomorrow, let’s head out,” she said, ushering them all right back out again. She locked the rear door, and then they all piled into her car. It was a tight fit, but they managed. 

“Would it be better to have more of you? More of you could fit in here if you were smaller.” 

They all looked at her, then at each other. Was she going to fire them, or starve them out? Kass laughed at the looks on their faces and returned her attention to the street ahead of her.

PING!

Kass looked to her left, and sure enough, a smoking bullet slug was lodged in her door frame. She frowned at it, then laughed. Slowing down, she leaned out of the open window.

“You missed! YOU SUCK!” She called out, then was dragged abruptly back into the car by Cal, the one who’d been riding shotgun. She was still laughing as she accelerated away. 

“Do you have a death wish, Ma’am?” Cal asked tentatively. She looked at him then, the merriment evident in her eyes.

“I do not, Cal. ‘Cuz if something happens to me, guess what. Someone looking an awful lot like me will take my place. And another one, after her. It goes on and on like this for as long as I want it to. That’s the beauty of it. No one ever really dies. They go on little vacations to the old country every now and again, the smart ones do, anyway. But they’ll be back. They always come back, grinding and spending and faking their own deaths, addicted to the day to day of it because they have, or know, nothing else,” she said, turning the corner and merging onto Main. 

She could see the others now. Some were on foot, some were in vehicles. Singles, and in small groups. Each were locked and loaded, pens in hand and papers fluttering in the breeze. Her friends. 

Kassandra couldn’t help but smile.