THE NIGHT SHIFT
Terry is happy with his new job, working the security night shift at the mall with his boss, Phil. It’s relaxed and low-stress, until Terry catches Phil messing around and stealing from stores with a transgender prostitute. His boss ends up being arrested and fired, and Terry finds himself with an unexpected promotion. Now, he’s got the night shift all to himself.
The pay is great, but it isn’t long before the boredom starts to set in. And there isn’t much to do in that large mall: there’s the video game store, the book store (though Terry isn’t much of a reader) and lots of women’s clothing stores. It isn’t long before Terry is bored with video games, and that just leaves some boring books and lots of women’s clothing.
CHAPTER I
It was Terry’s third night on the job—a job he wasn’t terribly excited about, but he couldn’t complain about the money.
It was certainly better than his last job, making sandwiches at Subway. He only lasted three months there: three months of being yelled at by angry customers, three months of cleaning the most filthy toilets you’ve ever seen in your life. But even that job was better than the one he held before it, sorting through garbage at the city’s recycling plant. His job there was to go through the mounds of garbage to find items that could be recycled: bottles, cans, and so on. Even with thick gloves and a face mask, peeling used condoms off of Coors Light cans is nauseating.
Sure, working the security night shift at the local mall had its disadvantages, missing all of the best parties was the first that came to Terry’s mind. He would often get text messages from his friends, letting him know how much fun he was missing. The only free time he got was the few hours before work, after he woke up at 4:00 PM—and none of his friends ever wanted to do anything during those awkward hours.
So he quickly became a bit of a loner, spending his short days playing videos games and his long nights at work. But the money really was good: twice as much as he was making at Subway, for much less work. All he had to do was watch a bunch of screens, and then every hour he had to go do a walk around the mall, shining a flashlight into each store. He only ever saw one other person during those nine quiet hours: his boss, Phil.
Phil was twenty years older than Terry, and he’d been working the night shift since he was Terry’s age. “I still remember my first week on the job,” he would say often, with a glimmer in his eye as if the first week was the best week—as if it was only downhill from here. Phil was Terry’s boss. For Terry’s whole first shift, Phil lingered over Terry’s shoulder, telling him all of his boring stories. Halfway through Terry’s first shift, Phil was out of stories and already starting to repeat himself. Twenty years of work and not even four hours of stories to tell—that’s how Terry knew he was in for a quiet, slow, and boring job. But at least the money was good—and it was about to get better, but Terry didn’t know that.
It was around 3:00 AM and Terry was watching the screens in the security room, trying not to nod off. Phil had told him not to bother paying too much attention to the screens, seeing as all of the doors and windows were rigged to set off alarms if touched, but Terry had nothing better to do. In his mind, he liked to play an imaginary game of Mall Heist. He was jokingly memorizing all of the spots in the mall that couldn’t be seen by those cameras. When he would go for his walks, he would carefully stick to those blind spots, as if he was on some sort of secret spy mission. He had to keep himself entertained somehow.
He was watching those screens on his third night on the job when he noticed Phil, opening up the gate to one of the mall’s many department stores. Phil slipped into the store and closed the gate behind him, and then he snuck out of the frame, sticking to the eastern wall, beneath the cameras where he was invisible. “What the hell?” Terry said.
Terry’s first instinct was that Phil was messing with him—maybe even testing him, to see if he was paying attention. Terry reached for his walkie-talkie. “Hey Phil, what are you up to down there?” He heard his own voice crackling back at him. Phil had left his walkie-talkie behind, on the counter next to the door. So Terry looked back at the screen. Now Phil was nowhere to be seen. If Terry could figure out the cameras in just a few days, surely Phil had them all figured out after working at the mall for over twenty years. Hell, he was probably the one who installed the cameras.
So Terry grabbed his flashlight and headed down to the mall.
Even after dozens of lonely mall walks, Terry was still filled with a strange sense of desolation when he stepped into the mall. For some reason, he always expected the mall to be filled with bright lights and lively people. You don’t really realize how big a mall is until you see it completely empty and dark, only lit by the moonlight coming through the overhead skylights.
The department store Phil disappeared into was on the other end of the large complex. Terry took his time getting there, shining his flashlight into each store so that he could count the long walk as part of his nightly routine. Occasionally his flashlight would land on a mannequin and he would jump—a habit Phil claimed never went away, even after twenty years. It didn’t help that Terry had always found mannequins freaky. And he was pretty sure Phil was moving them around when Terry wasn’t paying attention, as some sort of joke.
When Terry reached the department store, it took him a few minutes to find the correct key on his very large and very heavy key ring. Each store had its own key. They were all labelled, but that didn’t make locating them much easier. He finally found the key after a few frustrating minutes. He still couldn’t understand how Phil was able to locate a key in under a second. Terry wasn’t sure that was a skill he ever wanted to have, because it was a skill that probably took at least ten years to master.
Terry slipped into the department store. He did a full lap around the bottom floor, walking slowly, half-expecting Phil to jump out from around a corner in some attempt to frighten the newbie. Terry didn’t want to give his position away, so he kept to the shadows and stepped down softly with each step. He stopped near the back door of the store and noticed the alarm panel had been disarmed. Did Phil slip out for a secret cigarette? Terry carefully grabbed the door and tried to pull it, but it was locked. If Phil slipped out for a cigarette, why would he lock the door behind him? Terry turned the lock and then poked his head outside, but he couldn’t see Phil or anyone. Though there was a small green sedan parked not too far away: the only car in a massive parking lot.
It wasn’t Phil’s car. Terry had seen Phil’s car: an embarrassing red Fiero, with a gigantic Rush sticker on the hood. He kept it parked in the parking garage because he was always afraid that someone would try to steal it, as if it was worth stealing.
A bump caught Terry’s attention. It came from a door just a few steps away. This door led to the supply room, where the department store kept all of its overstock. Terry crept up to the door slowly. He put his ear against it and could hear what sounded like moaning. Terry covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Was Phil masturbating? Was this Phil’s secret masturbation chamber?
Terry grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly and carefully. He pushed it open and that’s when he saw his boss, bent over, with a woman standing behind him. But she was no ordinary woman. This woman was tall with broad shoulders and a long cock between her thighs. She was fucking Phil in the ass, making him moan and groan. Phil had an erection of his own, pressing up against his chubby, hairy belly. Terry stood shocked for a moment. Neither the tranny nor Phil noticed him standing there with parted lips. Terry tried to take a deep breath, but the shock was too intense.
But he didn’t want to get caught. He knew Phil would fire him immediately to save himself from the nightly embarrassment. So Terry managed to back out of the room, closing the door carefully.
He stepped aside and stared with wide eyes at a blank wall. The sight was a lot for his eighteen year old fragility to handle. He’d never seen people having sex before—never mind a built tranny fucking a full-grown man. H
e heard another noise: footsteps. They were coming towards the door.
Terry looked around and then jumped behind a rack of clothes. The door opened and the shemale stepped out. She took a deep breath. Her tits were still out: perky and firm and probably purchased with a discount. She had a bra around her stomach but she didn’t pull it back up. Instead, she pulled it off and walked over to the nearby selection of bras. She pulled a lacy red option down. “I really need a new bra,” she said before putting it on.
Phil rushed out from the supply room. “You can’t take that,” he said while pulling his pants up over his erect dick. “I’ll get in so much shit.”
“Oh, c’mon. These things are so expensive. How can a girl like me afford a hundred dollar bra? Even you aren’t paying me that much.” She put the bra on her big, fake tits (which probably didn’t need a bra), and then she meandered over to the selection of shoes. “Ooh, look at these boots. I wonder if they come in a men’s eleven.” She laughed. Her voice was far from convincing, though even with her broad shoulders, she still looked somewhat feminine.
She turned towards Terry. Terry ducked down behind the rack of clothes and held his breath. He didn’t want to be caught, even though he wasn’t the one breaking any rules.
“Go see if these come in my size, would you sweetie?” she said to Phil.
“You really can’t just take things,” Phil said. His face was dark red.
“Fine. I’ll look for myself.” She went back into the room. Phil chased behind her, and Terry used the opportunity to sneak out. He only got a few racks away when he had to hide again. The Amazonian shemale emerged with a box of brand new boots, which were probably worth five hundred bucks. “You’re my best client, you know that?” she said.
But she wasn’t done. Next, she went over to a rack of expensive purses. She grabbed one and admired it for a moment. “I have to own this. You don’t think they’ll notice, do you?”
“Seriously, Candy. I’m going to get in so much shit. You can’t just take this stuff. I can’t let you.”
She walked up to him and kissed him on the lips. “Are you going to stop me?” she asked.
His face was suddenly a shade of dark crimson. He stuttered but said nothing. So Candy (which probably wasn’t her real name) continued her shopping spree. Terry’s heart was racing. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, but Phil was right. If she left with all of that stuff, Phil would get in deep trouble. And not just Phil, but Terry too. Hell, Phil might even try to pin it on Terry to save himself the humiliation. And now, Phil was just allowing Candy to roam the expensive department store freely. She had thousands of dollars of stuff stacked up by the door. So Terry reached into his pocket and pressed his silent alarm button, which was only supposed to be used in the case of a serious emergency.
Neither Phil nor Candy had any idea that the cops were now on their way to the mall.
While Phil and following Candy around in the lingerie department, Terry managed to sneak out the back door. He tried to think of a way to bail Phil out, but Phil didn’t have his walkie-talkie. He didn’t want Phil getting implicated, so he just hoped that Phil would play along when the cops came in. He could pretend like he was in the process of detaining the shemale prostitute.
Terry saw the approaching cop cars. They had their lights flashing, but no sirens. Terry waved them over: six cars in total. The cars surrounded Terry, and a moment later a dozen cops were standing before him, waiting to hear what the emergency was. “There’s a woman—she broke in and she’s stealing thousands of dollars worth of product.”
One of the cops laughed. “Can’t handle a woman, rent-a-cop?” he said with a big snicker. But Terry didn’t care about the insult. He just wanted to keep his job. He didn’t want to go back to making sandwiches or peeling condoms off of beer bottles.
“Where is she?” asked another cop.
“Just in there,” Terry said, pointing at the back door.
The cops went straight through the door before Terry could say another word. Terry backed away from the door and the cops. His heart was pounding. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen to him or to Phil. And he certainly wasn’t expecting to see Phil being dragged out in handcuffs before Candy.
Phil looked at Terry with narrowed eyes. “You little shit! I knew I should never have hired you! I’m going to get you for this, you stupid little bastard!”
Five minutes later, the cops were gone and Terry was alone at the mall, unsure of what he was supposed to do next.
CHAPTER II
Phil was fired before the end of Terry’s night shift, as soon as the mall manager learned about the incident. “You did a good thing,” the manager said to Terry. “We need more guys like you on staff.” He shook Terry’s hand and then he started towards his upstairs office.
“Wait,” Terry said.
The manager stopped and looked at Terry. “What is it?” he asked.
“Now what?” Terry said.
The manager looked at his watch and then back at Terry. “Now your shift is over. You can go home.”
“Do I come back tonight?”
The manager laughed as if the question was absurd. “Yes, of course you do.” So Terry grabbed his coat from the security room and then he went home. His heart was still pounding from all the action.
He managed to get a little bit of sleep before his next shift. He still wasn’t sure what to expect when he showed up for work. He was still a trainee—at least he thought he was a trainee. Would he have a new supervisor? Would one of the daytime guys be moved to the night shift?
He showed up at 8:30 PM, his usual start time. He walked into the security room and saw a guy he didn’t recognize. “Are you my new supervisor?” he asked.
The man gave Terry a funny look and then said, “You the night shift guy?”
“That’s me,” said Terry.
“Is it already 8:30?”
“It is,” Terry said. And then he watched as the man stood up, grabbed his coat, and then left, leaving Terry alone in that little room with the many monitors. He expected someone else to walk through that door. He sat there waiting until 9:30 PM rolled around and it became clear that Terry was on his own. He was the new head of the night shift, at least until someone new was hired.
And it was time to do his hourly walk. He grabbed his flashlight and started going from store to store. The mall felt even more desolate with Phil gone. Now, every time he saw a mannequin that seemed slightly out of place, his heart leapt in his chest. Whenever he heard a little rustle or a distant thump, a cold sweat would form on the back of his neck. There was no one pranking him now, unless the mall manager decided to leave his comfy bed for the sake of a joke.
And now, Terry found himself investigating every little thud and creek in the big, lonely mall. He knew that every little noise was probably just a mouse, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He was just starting to like his new job and he didn’t want to lose it for any reason.
That first night alone was long and exhausting. He wasn’t doing anything particularly wearing, but he was constantly on high alert, which was draining in itself.
He almost had a heart attack at 6:30 AM when the security room door opened and the morning guy walked in to start his shift. “Jesus Christ!” Terry yelped as he leapt from his chair.
“You okay?” asked the morning guard.
“I’m fine. You good to take over?” Terry asked.
The morning guard nodded his head cautiously. Terry grabbed his coat and took off. His first solo night shift was over. Though now he wasn’t so sure he wanted the job anymore. Alone, it was suddenly more stressful. There was so much pressure to keep the mall safe, but there were so many doors and windows into that mall—how could he watch them all by himself?
It was after his second exhausting shift that he decided the job maybe wasn’t for him. He couldn’t handle all of the spooks and scares. The pressure was too much for his youthful sensibilities, so he called up the mall manag
er to let him know he was quitting. But before he could quit, the manager said, “Hey Terry, I was just about to call you.”
“Really?” Terry asked.
“Yeah. I wanted to let you know that I finished the paperwork for your promotion. You’re officially a security supervisor. I want you to know that we still really appreciate what you did the other night.”
“You’re promoting me?” Terry asked. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Yeah. Now you’ll make twenty-six dollars an hour, and we’ll get the paperwork started so you can get in on our benefits. We do full health and dental. We can even hook you up with one of our company cars if you need one. Just let us know. Anyway—you’re probably just about to go to sleep, so I’ll leave you to it. Have a good one, Terry.”
Terry was even too shocked to say goodbye. He put down his phone and saw big numbers running through his mind. Twenty-six dollars per hour was a lot of money. It was more than his own father made. It was three times as much as he was making at his last job. He couldn’t possibly quit now. None of his friends were making that kind of money: over fifty thousand dollars a year, at just eighteen years old, with no bills to speak of.
He started thinking of all the things he could buy: video games, televisions, his own car, and so on. He even started thinking about buying a house. If he could save half of each paycheque, he would have enough for a down payment on something nice in just a couple of years. He could buy all new clothes and he could afford to take girls out on fancy dates. So what if there was a bit of pressure while he worked the night shift by himself? A little bit of pressure was well worth the small fortune he was about to be making.
So the next night, he showed up for work with a smile on his face. He took a seat in that creaky chair in front of those monitors and he leaned back. He looked over at the clock and watched it tick. He was making about a dollar every two minutes—almost a penny for every tick. It was fun watching those pennies tick into his bank account.
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