Free The Girl Who Tweeted Wolf by Nick Bryan

just pay them off.”
    “But Lyne’s evil,” she said, as if he’d missed the winning argument.
    “Real people aren’t evil , Choi.” Although, he must admit, Edward Lyne often seemed despicable. “So you’ve gone off Matt as a suspect?”
    “Maybe he’s just creepy.”
    “Maybe,” he said, happier with that sentiment.
    The dark settled, the commuters were drifting out onto the pavement around them. Most were on their way to the area’s many bars and shops, ready for action after escaping the office. Their ties were steadily loosening. Hobson kept his pushed up tight. “When did Matt’s stupid note say we should meet him?” he said, foot twitching.
    “Seven.”
    Hobson looked at his watch. “Half an hour’s time. Let’s get this over with.”
    They got up, threw their rubbish away and joined the surge of people down the road, watching for the shadow of the IGS in the left darkness. The building’s decor was less infuriating when he couldn’t see it.
    *****
    When Angelina first visited the Inspiration Gestation Station, it felt like a friendly, welcoming place. She enjoyed the chatty receptionist and bright colours. Social Awesome’s business environment seemed way better than her own, at first anyway.
    That hadn’t lasted long. Not only were Social Awesome not all they seemed, but returning to the IGS late at night, the sunlight dissolved away, it didn’t seem as wonderful. The sharp angles loomed above her like a haunted rock. All the lights were out, except Social Awesome’s. Even the reception area was in darkness. She jumped out of her skin as a car started nearby, Hobson glared at her.
    An intercom sat on the wall next to the glass card-locked front door, and she pointed at it, nervous. “Um, Matt’s note said to buzz him and he’d come let us in.”
    “This really is stupid,” Hobson said.
    “He’s a nervous guy, maybe he feels safe behind a locked door.”
    Hobson tutted, then took a closer look at the front door of the IGS — it was ajar. His body tensed up, fists flexing, and Angelina shrank even more.
    He stretched out a foot and kicked the door. Giving no resistance, it drifted inwards. “Doesn’t seem like we need the buzzer.”
    “Yeah,” Angelina said, adding for the sake of it: “Guess he left it open for us.”
    “Yeah.”
    Angelina broke eye contact with Hobson. She mounted the small step from the pavement, ready to march inside.
    Before a single cell of her body crossed the threshold, Hobson grabbed her by the shoulder and tugged her backwards. She gasped, so unprepared that her feet almost left the floor.
    “Choi,” he growled, “just in case it wasn’t fucking clear, I will be first into the darkened building, okay?”
    “Yeah, sure, no worries.” His grip pinched into her and she tried to recoil. With so little flab on her shoulder, Hobson was squeezing the bone. Still, he waited a few moments, as if making sure she’d heard her own words, before letting go and dropping the weight back onto her feet.
    “You don’t need to pull me around,” Angelina grumbled, “I’m not a little girl.”
    “Yes, you are.”
    “Why’d you let me come at all, then?”
    Hobson looked up at the black windows, streetlight reflections floating in them like grim stars. “Right now, Choi, I’m not sure. But you’re already here, and I’m not leaving you out on the street either.”
    Exchanging one last look, they tugged the door open and stepped into the glowing reception area. Nothing happened, no alarm went off. A few moments after they entered, a weak strip light shuddered into life on some kind of automatic sensor. Angelina breathed a sigh of relief, looking around and taking comfort in the silly pasture designs on the walls. The desk was tidy, door to the stairs closed and dark. No-one was there, nothing was wrong.
    “Lift’s dead,” Hobson muttered.
    “What?”
    “The lift, they’ve turned it off. Reception closes at six according to the sign, guess Jacq shuts