As The World Caves In [Five]

One

how long do you think you'd survive in a zombie apocalypse?

November 22, 1963

Emery Lamont was in trouble. Well, 'trouble' wasn't necessarily the right word. It was more like a small mishap in the plan in which he had fumbled over a small rock and landed it in the bottom of the ocean. Only he was the rock and the ocean was the Handlers office.

Said woman tented the tips of her fingers together and gave a mighty sigh. They had been at this for twenty minutes already and had gotten nowhere. Emery didn't even know the woman; hadn't even known she existed up until this afternoon but already he wanted never to see her again.

"Emery," She began. "You cannot be messing with the space-time continuum. But if you keep doing so," She brought her hands down and delicately folded them on her lap out of sight. "-i'd have no choice but to... eliminate you." She shrugged as if his death would evoke sorrow and smile.

Emery smiled right back though it was created from nothing but loathing distaste. "I'm sure." He said sarcastically. "And because I know just how much you would love to do so, I have places to be." He stood, pushing the chair away. "This was a lovely meeting, Ma'am, thank you so very much for taking precious time out of your day to talk to me about my civic responsibilities and the obligations I have to this cherished world." His smile dropped and the humor seeped out of his words in an instant. "I'll see myself out now."

"Emery, Emery, Emery." The Handler tsked as Emery tried the doorhandle, rattling the thing when it only budged a hair's breadth. Locked. "We can't just let you leave after you disrupted the timeline." The woman said, coming up behind him. Emergy did not turn around. "No, what you have done has to be fixed for the sake of the better world. And in order to do that, your death must take place so everything can go back to normal. You are an anamoly, Emery. I hope you can understand-" The Handler placed a bony cold hand on his shoulder. "-it's nothing personal." She breathed.

"Oh, it's personal." Emery muttered under his breath as he twisted around and ducked under the womans arm, jumping over the ladies desk when she tried lunging after him. Papers flew from beneath him as he kicked off the desk and flew to the other side of the room, using the walls as leverage as he nearly collided with them, using them to push off again and avoid the Handlers advances.

"Emery." The Handler said though it lacked the severiarity of poisonous kindness when she had spoken his name all those other times. "It's useless." She jutted her head and spread her arms wide. "Give up. Trust me, you'll be in better hands if you go willingly. If not, I'll have no choice but to bring in backup."

"What?" Emery panted as he took the moment to survey the room. "Too scared to come after me yourself? Or was that the best you got? Come on, don't say you're holding out on me." He said, jumping on the balls of his feet as his mind went into overdrive. Truth be told, he didn't know the full extent of what the Handler was capable of but that didn't mean he wanted to find out.

He jumped into action then, dancing around the Handler and hiking his foot up on the desk as he pushed himself up towards the ceiling. Here, he managed to get the edges of the vent covering under his finger. One screw fell loose immediately and Emery grunted as his weight shifted. His fingertips strained and he grit his teeth as he fought to keep a hold.

"Come on down, Emery." The Handler said in a bored tone. One look down and Emery could see the woman had given up playing games and was now reaching into her coat. Drawing out a Colt pistol and levelling it at his head. A shot rang out and Emery almost lot his gripping as he struggled to hold on and wedge the rest of the corners from their screws. "That was a warning. Next time, I won't be so reasonable." He heard the Handler say.