All The Beautiful People (A Dread Novel Book 1)

by Jonathan Yanez

  James Jones was beyond words now, gnashing his teeth. The repetitive motion of his enamel striking each other made a disturbing clicking sound. He struggled with every ounce of his strength to rise from the chair.

  “Perfect,” Wade said, motioning Taylor out of the room. “There’s a car waiting for you downstairs that will take you to the office.”

  Taylor raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to insist,” Wade said with a smile. “I’ll have someone drive your car to the medical wing. Once you’re cleared, it will be waiting for you.”

  Despite the minimal interaction with Wade Treadstone in the past, Taylor knew his type. Arguing the point would get her nowhere.

  “That’s fine,” she said without missing a beat. “I’ll just need to grab my notebook.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Lazarus Pharmaceuticals was the largest and most respected distributor of prescription medication in the world. Specializing in the newest cutting edge drugs, their main office was located in Los Angeles, California. The office was only thirty minutes from the Jones’ household. Her driver wasn’t the talkative type. That was fine with Taylor; she had enough on her mind without the empty banter most company chauffeurs insisted on.

  She sat in the cushioned black leather seat with her notebook opened on her lap. She worked best when she could write down her thoughts. Ever since she was a child, Taylor kept a pen and paper close. For the first time in a very long time, she didn’t know what to put down. Sure, there were the normal housekeeping items like time, location, names, but these facts were already written. What she needed now were words for what she’d witnessed.

  Calling James Jones crazy or drugged didn’t do the event justice. She filled the gap of time her brain needed to process the correct words by writing down and circling the drug’s title:

  Vanidrum.

  It was impossible to pen what she felt. She needed more time to process. Taylor’s hand hovered over the page for a second, then she wrote down one more word and closed her notebook:

  Darkness.

  The company’s headquarters were located on a square mile of land. Multiple gates and guard checkpoints stopped her driver as they approached the medical research wing. Each time, they were waved through with minimal delay.

  Soon the black SUV pulled to a stop at a side entrance. Taylor exited the vehicle and headed inside. As she walked to the front door, she noticed the driver didn’t pull away until he was sure she entered the building.

  “Well, hello there,” a friendly female technician in a long white lab coat said. “You must be Taylor. We were called and told to be waiting for you.”

  Taylor stifled a yawn. “Yep, that’s me.”

  “Great,” the woman said with a large smile uncommon for the late hour. “If you’d be so kind as to follow me, we’ll get you checked out as fast as we can and have you on your way.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Taylor followed her down a white-tiled hall, lit by bright florescent lights. Even at this hour the medical wing was as busy as ever. A corporation as large as Lazarus Pharmaceuticals operated around the clock.

  Soon the lab technician ushered Taylor into a large room equipped with every kind of medical device she could imagine and more she couldn’t. The scent of hydrogen peroxide was thick in the air. Taylor wrinkled her nose on instinct as the fumes caught her by surprise.

  “Oh, and I’ve been so rude. My name is Jean. Please take a seat,” the lab tech said, motioning to a large padded table covered in thin tissue paper.

  Taylor complied without hesitation. The lab tech started her examination. “This will be quick and we’ll get you on your way. Mr. Treadstone ordered a full panel as fast as possible. With the technology at our disposal, it won’t take long. If you can remove your jacket, we’ll start with a blood sample.”

  Taylor shrugged off the brown leather jacket that felt like a second skin to her and extended her right arm. Jean was efficient at her job. In a matter of minutes she had removed two vials of blood, swabbed Taylor’s mouth with a cotton tip, and called an attendant to pick up the samples.

  “Great,” Jean said with another smile. “I’ll need to take a look at your eyes, ears, and throat. Once that is done we’ll see the results of your test and you’ll be good to go. How are you feeling?”

  Taylor shrugged and stifled yet another yawn. “Besides tired I feel fine.” Given Jean’s youthfulness and cheerful disposition, Taylor decided to push the conversation toward events of that night. There was no way the young lab tech could know what happened. Still, she might be able to shed some light on the situation. “You said Mr. Treadstone ordered a full panel of tests as soon as possible?”

  “He sure did,” Jean said, peering through a silver hand tool and into Taylor’s left ear.

  “Is that normal for someone like me? I’ve never had to do this.”

  Jean jotted notes on an open folder. “What do you mean by ‘someone like you?’”

  Taylor raised her eyebrows. Apparently Jean knew less than even Taylor. Wise on Wade Treadstone’s part, not letting his right hand know what the left was doing. Taylor didn’t skip a beat.

  “I mean a normal, everyday employee like me.”

  “No, I guess not.” Jean stopped briefly to think before going back to work. Using a similar instrument she flashed a light in Taylor’s eyes and leaned in to examine her pupils.

  “What tests were ordered with my blood and saliva?”

  “Pretty much everything,” Jean responded, sticking a wooden depressor against Taylor's tongue and flashing another light down her throat. “Oh, I get it, nerves kicking in, right? Don’t worry. I’m sure you’re fine. There’s nothing to be concerned about. You’re as healthy as anyone I’ve seen. You must work out. What’s your secret? Yoga? Pilates?”

  “I get so nervous about these things,” Taylor lied. “Thanks for the compliment. I try to get as much exercise in as I can.”

  “So far everything looks great. If you’ll wait here for a minute I’ll go check on those blood and saliva reports.”

  Taylor nodded and was soon left alone to replay the night’s events in her head. She had handled dozens of similar cases. In every instance a large corporation had something to hide, they were willing to pay people by the truckload to brush their messes under the rug. Taylor had no problem admitting to herself what she did for a living. She was paid to clean up messes prior to them making their way to the authorities or worse, the tabloids.

  She was personally responsible for keeping the pin in more than a few hand grenades that would have torn large companies to pieces. For her current employer, she handled situations ranging from overdoses to faulty medication. Taylor estimated she saved Lazarus Pharmaceuticals millions of dollars in lawsuits and recalls over the years. Not to mention keeping their spotless track record intact.

  Despite all of this, for some reason, tonight bothered her. Maybe it was the look of pure madness in James Jones’ eyes. Perhaps it was the way he wouldn’t stay down after numerous blows that would have sent men twice his size into a coma.

  “Vanidrum,” Taylor whispered out loud. Vanidrum was what he had started taking when the madness began. That was the connection. It was more than coincidence. Vanidrum was Lazarus Pharmaceuticals’ largest success in history. People were waiting in line at their doctor’s offices to be prescribed the mood-altering drug.

  Dots began to connect in Taylor’s mind. A light knocking on the door interrupted her. She looked up to see a smiling Jean holding her bloodwork. “I told you it would be fast. As promised, a clean bill of health. Mr. Treadstone said you are free to go and wanted me to remind you that a full report is due first thing in the morning.”

  CHAPTER 4

  BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

  Is that my alarm or an air raid? Taylor thought to herself. For all that is holy what I wouldn’t give for another five minutes.

  She reached out with her left arm in a blind flailing motion, swiping her arm
through the air in a wild, half-conscious attempt to stop the incessant noise. She got lucky on her third try and hit the snooze button. Her joy at the silence didn’t last long. Responsibility and the events of the previous night brought her out of bed.

  Faint memories of a nightmare encroached the edges of her consciousness. The more she tried to remember it, the further it faded into oblivion. The events from her dreams and the incident from the night most recently passed were so closely related, she was having trouble telling one from the other.

  Taylor soon disregarded her current train of thought for a shower. The shower’s steaming water did its best to fight the weariness from her bones and comfort her troubled mind. While it helped, nothing would solve the dilemma of needing more sleep or chase away the images from the previous night.

  Her choice of clothing was similar as every other day; boots, jeans, plain tee, and her brown leather jacket. Hair falling in every direction but where it should, she wandered into the kitchen for whatever she could put in her stomach in a hurry.

  Fifteen minutes and a cold Pop-Tart later, Taylor found herself pulling into Lazarus Pharmaceuticals’ main entrance. Unlike the previous night where her driver took her to the medical wing of the facility, Taylor headed for the main entrance. Parking was always a zoo and usually involved more than a few minutes maneuvering around row after row of expensive cars. Taylor’s usual plan was simple: park far and walk.

  Walking was good. It would give her time to think about what exactly she was going to put in her report. Wade Treadstone would want very specific details on what happened. What did happen?

  As Taylor traversed the pavement to the building’s large glass doors, she was no closer to getting an answer than when she started. The two things she kept going back to were the name Vanidrum and the fact that Mr. Jones wouldn’t stay down no matter how hard she hit him. The memory of his clicking teeth echoed in her mind.

  Employees in white lab coats and business suits walked to and from the doors. Taylor didn’t recognize any of them, nor did she expect to. Her job as a Cleaner meant she rarely visited the office. Her special skillset was only called on every few months. When Taylor was needed, her Operator would get in contact with her, she would resolve the issue in a discreet manner and visit the office to file a report.

  In the nearly two years she’d worked for the company, her Operator had only called on her a total of eight times. Her job was to be ready whenever they had a situation and handle it.

  Taylor’s thoughts on the looming report were soon lost as she entered the main building. An energetic young female voice welcomed her with a pre-recorded message. Any other day Taylor wouldn’t think twice about the generic commercial. The advertisement followed the events on moving slides projected on the building’s far wall. Today Taylor stopped in her tracks at the mention of the word “Vanidrum.”

  “Lazarus Pharmaceuticals has been the leading name in prescription medication for the last four decades. With our talented team of scientists and using the latest equipment technology has to offer, we continue our proud tradition of groundbreaking medication by introducing Vanidrum.”

  Taylor realized she was standing rigid in the middle of a lobby teeming with people busy to be about their way, her back stiff. She didn’t care. Security guards eyeing her, she stood anyway, refusing to miss a word. The slides continued to pass over the wall showing scenes of working lab-coated technicians, the manufacturing of hundreds of tiny red pills, and smiling men and women tossing the drug down their throats.

  “Vanidrum is one-of-a-kind. Scientists at Lazarus Pharmaceuticals are now able to provide the assistance our customers deserve. Each and every one of you are perfect inside and out. Why not feel that way? Everyone should be entitled to be perceived as they desire. Whether it’s the external or the internal, complexion or anxiety, Vanidrum can help. Vanidrum targets the part of your brain that deals with inner happiness. Within a few weeks, realize pure joy. Ask your doctor today if Vanidrum is right for you.”

  The woman’s voice stopped talking and one last slide hovered over the wall. It was a picture of an average looking woman with a huge smile plastered on her face. In her right hand she held a mirror. The reflection that stared back at her was clearly someone else. The woman in the reflection had undergone hours of makeup work and had obviously been touched up by Photoshop. The likeness looked like a movie star ready to walk the red carpet.

  Taylor raised an eyebrow. There were a multitude of possibilities of what could have gone wrong with Mr. Jones. However, if Taylor followed her gut instinct, she would put her money on Vanidrum. The exact details evaded her but it wasn’t her job to theorize.

  It’s not your job to play Sherlock Holmes, Taylor reminded herself as she started moving toward the lobby’s main desk. You handle the mess when it comes, that’s it.

  Taylor stopped at a large semi-circular steel reception booth where two attendants smiled with perfect white teeth.

  “May I help you?” one of them asked.

  “Yes.” Taylor reached into her pocket and handed a Lazarus Pharmaceuticals ID card to the woman. “I’m a field tech, here to make a report.”

  The woman nodded as she entered Taylor’s ID card information into the computer. “Here you are, Mrs. Hart.”

  “It’s Miss.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said Mrs. I’m not married so it’s just Miss.”

  The attendant blushed. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  Taylor shrugged as she accepted her card over the counter. “That’s okay. I’m not.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Taylor made her way through the maze of stainless steel elevators and bare white walls. Her destination was a group of large offices equipped with desks and computers on the twelfth floor. These offices were kept apart from the rest and designated specifically for Cleaner use. Taylor wasn’t sure how many people with her job description Lazarus Pharmaceuticals employed, although for a company with as much to lose as they had, she guessed they would have multiple agents all over the world.

  The office she was instructed to use displayed a large number “7” painted on the door in bold black strokes. Taylor’s imagination painted two zero’s in front of the number seven in honor of her favorite hero. As soon as the image of James Bond came to mind she shook her thoughts free of such notions. She had a job to do.

  Her ID badge acted like a keycard and gave her access to the room with a loud beep that echoed down the deserted halls. Although hardly used, the office itself was spacious, indicating the financial power of the company. A window overlooking the property, an enormous metal desk, flat screen computer, and chairs rounded out the room’s furniture.

  Taylor flipped the lights and closed the door behind her. The smell of newly cleaned carpet made her wonder how often the room was used. Her mind was running blank as to what to include in her report. Even as she crossed the room she wasn’t sure how to start.

  She paused to look out the huge window. The report wouldn’t be easy but she would stick to the facts. She heard voices and tensed, her hands balling into fists. Then the door opened.

  Wade Treadstone poked his head into the room and smiled as he rapped on the door. “I hope I’m not interrupting you, Taylor.”

  Someone stood behind him, though it was impossible for Taylor to see him clearly from her vantage point. “No, not at all. I haven’t even started.”

  “Good, may we come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Wade entered the room, followed by a younger man with broad shoulders and thick, black-framed glasses. “Taylor,” Wade said, “you two have never met but you’ve spoken a few times over the years. I’d like you to meet Jason Waters. He’s your Operator.”

  Warning signs flashed through Taylor’s mind as she extended a hand. Why are we meeting now? Two years and he’s only been a voice. They’ve kept us separate this long for a reason. Now they’re allowing us to meet for…what?

  Jason’s handshake was firm wit
hout crushing. He didn’t attempt a smile or pleasantries. On instinct Taylor knew they were both thinking the same thing.

  “Please sit,” Wade motioned.

  Taylor took her seat on the opposite side of the desk as Wade and Jason. The high-backed cushioned seat designed to offer comfort gave her anything but. The anticipation for an explanation brought goosebumps to Taylor’s arms despite her jacket. Years of training brought her feet to rest directly under her body, ready to spring into action if the situation required.

  While Taylor didn’t think her employer would silence her after an event like last night, she needed to be ready for the possibility. It crossed her mind in the past that if a situation was dire enough, the company would allow no loose ends. With billions of dollars on the line, Taylor was under no false pretenses as to how much her own life would be worth. She was a cog in the machine, a piece which could be replaced if the need ever arose.

  Wade cleared his throat and began. “I understand it’s not protocol for an Operator to meet his or her Cleaner; yet after the events that occurred last night, the Board deemed it appropriate. I’ll start by relieving the tension and letting both of you know no one here is in any kind of trouble. You each handled the situation as well or better than anyone could have. You followed procedure to the letter.”

  The muscles in Taylor’s body relax the slightest bit. Jason’s shoulders also seemed to drop as he took in a deep breath.

  Wade reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a voice recorder he then placed on the edge of the desk. “We’ll start with you, Mr. Waters. If you would state your full name and title, and tell us exactly what happened last night.”