Epoch by Timothy Carter

as the screen went blank. “Thanks a lot, kid.”
    Vincent hurried on, feeling guilty. That guy got a pay cut just for talking to him? What kind of insane monsters ran this place? Oh yeah, Alphega Corp.
    He approached another cashier, determined to be faster.
    “Where is Chanteuse’s cash?” he asked a teenage girl who worked just as furiously at her till.
    “What?” the girl asked, not taking her eyes off the items in front of her.
    “Chanteuse Sloam,” Vincent said. “Where is she?”
    “Over there somewhere, I think,” the girl said hurriedly, waving with her left hand.
    “Can we get on with this, please?” the customer asked.
    “Sorry, sir,” the girl said, not fast enough.
    “Bridget Auer,” said Mr. Wilkins on the second screen, “your customer has expressed displeasure in your service. This is your third violation today. You are hereby docked a full day’s pay.”
    The girl groaned and began bagging her customer’s items. Vincent set off again, following her vague directions.
    “Um, kid,” said Nod, “I don’t suppose you could walk faster? That demon has probably recovered by now, and it’ll only take it a few seconds to reacquire my taste.”
    Vincent groaned and clutched at his chest, but did manage to walk faster. After all, there was far more at stake than just Nod’s life. The world was ending, and the pixie was his best chance to find the Portal, and safety.
    To take his mind off the approaching apocalypse, Vincent reviewed the events that had happened at Alphega Corp. and came to a conclusion.
    He was pretty sure the demon that had licked him, Rennik, wasn’t the same one that had chased Nod. That demon had come from inside the building, whereas Rennik had been in the parking lot. Nod had said the building was crawling with demons, which suggested they were there for a reason.
    Most likely, they were guards. And why would a company like Alphega have demons as guards? To keep creatures like pixies and elves far, far away.
    Before Vincent could voice that thought, he saw Chanteuse at the cash register in front of him. She was ringing in groceries as fast as the other cashiers, and Vincent had to call her name three times before she heard him and looked around.
    “Vincent, hello!” she said. “How lovely to see you. And you have a little friend.”
    “Yeah, this is Nod,” Vincent said, pointing to the pixie on his shoulder. “Nod, meet Chanteuse.”
    “A pleasure,” Nod said.
    “Chanteuse Sloam,” said Mr. Wilkins on her second screen, “you are neglecting your customer. A one-hour pay cut will be applied to your account.”
    “Sorry,” Vincent said.
    “Never mind him,” Chanteuse said. “I can tell by your aura something is wrong.”
    “We need your help,” Vincent said. “Can you get away? It’s really important.”
    “Let me finish with this customer,” Chanteuse said, “then I will take my break.”
    Chanteuse scanned the rest of the customer’s items, then put up her “cash closed” sign. This did not sit at all well with the line of customers waiting at her cash, especially not the plump woman who’d already put out most of her groceries on the conveyor belt.
    “I’m very sorry to inconvenience you,” Chanteuse said sweetly. “One of our other cashiers will be more than happy to help you.”
    “Chanteuse Sloam,” said Wilkins, “your customer has expressed displeasure in your service. This is your second violation today. A three-hour pay cut will be applied to your account.”
    “I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Vincent said.
    “If it is so important that you came here to find me,” Chanteuse replied, “then I will make the time for you.”
    Vincent momentarily forgot his chest pains when he heard that. Very few people would afford him that level of respect. Especially if they were as pretty as Chanteuse.
    “Chanteuse Sloam,” said the digitized Wilkins, “due to your continuing dereliction of your duty, your manager has been