The Mall (Evenstad Media Presents Book 2)

by Foster, Voss

  Evenstad Media Presents

  THE MALL

  VOSS FOSTER

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is entirely coincidental or beyond the intent of the author.

  The Mall © Voss Foster 2015

  Cover art © Dar Albert 2015

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

  Requests to use the material will be considered and may be directed to:

  Voss Foster at: vossfoster@gmail.com

  For Lani, who saw the author in me before I ever did.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  12

  11

  10

  09

  08

  07

  06

  05

  04

  03

  02

  01

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  12

  TO: Eddie

  FROM: Laurie

  SUBJECT: New Position

  SENT: 12/29/2074 AT 7:19 a.m. EST

  I heard you got the job with Evenstad. I’m glad to hear it. Although I shouldn’t be surprised. We made you out to be some damned super-genius, and you came very highly recommended to his desk.

  This is the beginning for us. The world will have to start listening at this point.

  I’m sorry that you were the one who had to do this. I know the idea didn’t thrill you, but you’re the only person I know with the technical know-how to do what needs doing. We’ll just agree I owe you one.

  I’m not going to repeat anything I’ve told you here, just in case things go too far wrong. We can’t have any big correspondences between us through these addresses, only files and information. If either of us gets word that somebody might start looking into these messages, send word to the other and deactivate the account.

  I don’t expect a whole lot from this, but I’m willing to hope. For the sake of everyone out there who’s suffering, I want you to keep up that hope, too.

  Don’t reply to this.

  Evenstad Media's Controversial Reality Show Returns for Second Season

  10/28/2074

  In the beginning of the year, we saw the launch of a daring new reality show from Evenstad Media. Twelve contestants brought together from all walks of life to compete for twenty million dollars. Locked up in a trailer park, they only have two choices: kill, or die. Only one could leave, and we saw an unlikely victor in Rita Needles, a bartender from Portland, Oregon. That was The Park, the television sensation that held the world rapt the whole first half of the year.

  Now, Evenstad Media has announced the show's return to the airwaves in January of 2075. According to a spokesperson from the production company, "The new season will bring in many exciting changes, not the least of which is a new venue."

  While no other information has been revealed of yet, there has been much speculation as to what these changes might entail. Yet while the fans of the show are caught up wondering, there is still a very vocal group of detractors who refuse to support the program. While all contracts were examined after the run of the first season, and proved to be legally binding, many are unsure of the morality of murder, no matter the legalities involved.

  Will Evenstad Media's opponents gain enough traction to impact the launch of their second season, or will the show continue to stand strong in the face of controversy? Only time will tell.

  Sir or Madam,

  You are receiving this letter because you have been selected by Evenstad Media to fill one of twelve exclusive roles in The Mall, the sequel to last year's highly successful program, The Park. You have already been collected, your information processed, and delivered to the set. Please do not attempt to leave the arena without explicit permission.

  Your goal during your engagement at The Mall is simple: survive. There is no time limit. A minimal food supply has been provided, and will not be replenished. Use it wisely.

  Unlike last season, we will not be arming you for the task at hand. You will be required to make use of the items available to you in order to defend yourself. There will also be players there not eligible to win the competition. They operate under a very specific set of rules different from your own. They have been included to further challenge you during your stay, and will not hesitate to use lethal force.

  The arena will be monitored fully at all times in order to capture the true essence of gameplay for the viewers. Further details of recording and broadcast were explained in your release clauses.

  No criminal charges shall be filed against any action(s) performed during the duration of your participation in The Mall. All city, county, state, federal, and/or international laws are to be considered suspended during your time here.

  The arena will remain closed until only a single player remains alive. The winner will receive twenty million (20,000,000) dollars (USD). The families of the losers will be provided for.

  In your pocket, you will find a tablet and detachable keyboard for you to keep a journal. While this is not required by the rules of The Mall, it is recommended. Extended periods of time spent in the arena may cause psychological trauma. Our experts believe that writing a journal may help to keep the mind sharp and stave off the possible ill effects of your stay.

  No other information will be provided, so as to protect the integrity of gameplay.

  We wish you the best of luck,

  Evenstad Media

  JOURNAL 08QUINN

  ENTRY 001

  DATE: 1/1/2075

  Well shit. You get off on leave for a couple days to see your husband and wake up in some hellhole. I guess if I can believe this letter I had stuck to my chest, I'm on some reality show. I heard about the first one, but I was a little too busy to watch it. You know, off in Egypt, trying to stop some stupid terrorists. Doing my duty for God and country. Nothing too important, right? Not that I would have watched it anyway. There's enough people getting killed in the world. I see it day in and day out as it is. I don't need it on my TV screen, too.

  But I guess now I'm a part of this whole thing, whether I wanted to be or not. I'm in a mall, but it looks like it's seen better days. There are a few of us here that I've seen so far. Old black lady with a perm who reminds me of my grandma, big, gruff-looking white guy, a femmy Asian dude. And a bunch of others. Not twelve, but it's totally possible that I wasn't the first one to wake up.

  There was sort of a silent agreement between everyone that we wouldn't just start killing each other. I wouldn't have felt right about it. Not to say I wouldn't have defended myself, but I wouldn’t have been the one to start shit. So we all broke apart, went off into the stores. I debated that, myself. It seemed like a great idea on the surface, trying to find some cover. It also means you're trapped as soon as you go in. In the end, I went for it. Hit the stairs to get to the high ground and found a big outdoor goods store. Knives and fishing hooks and lots of things like that. Plus dehydrated hunting food. Not good, but no worse than an MRE.

  At this point, it's just a matter of waiting. I figure keeping the stupid journal will make the time go faster until shit really starts to happen. It's not like there's anything else to do, anyway. Not until the fighting starts. I'm hoping I'll have an advantage, when it comes to that part. Not about to go bragging, but I am a soldier, so I
know a thing or two about combat. I just have to hope it's the right thing or two.

  ENTRY END

  JOURNAL 06TESS

  ENTRY 001

  DATE: 1/1/2075

  My God. What is this? I mean, why me? This is just so wrong. So disgusting. I didn't do anything to deserve this. I don't think I did, anyway. Maybe I've sinned somewhere along the way, but I've been wracking my brain, trying to figure out where and how and see if there's any way I could try to fix it and I can’t come up with a damn thing. My fate can't be this cruel. I know it ain't any kind of a dream, which is the worst of it all. I can't even lie to myself about that part. It's definitely real. I'm definitely in a dirty old mall with a bunch of strangers and I’m scared to death.

  I headed for the closest store I could find. Clothes. Little summery things, frilly dresses. The kind of stuff for teenage girls. None of it's going to do me much good, but… I don’t know what else I can do. Since the very first second I woke up, all I've wanted to do is cry. See, I heard about this show, even saw a few episodes of it once in a while. I wasn't a fan, but a lot of times I’d fall asleep on the couch and wake up to see it on, or one of my girlfriends would insist on watching it. So I know what this is about, and the letter I got just confirmed it. They didn't have to come out and say it word for word. I’m not dumb. This is about killing. Only one of us is going to survive, in the end, and they get twenty million dollars.

  All I want to do is live. I don't need the money. I've got money enough as it is. I just don't want to die in here, alone and God only knows where. I mean, if I die here, where am I going to get buried? I belong in the family mausoleum, back in Savannah, not in the rubble of some crappy mall, decomposing with strangers.

  Which means I just have to live, I guess. If nothing else, I need to get out, so I can be with Momma and Daddy, God rest their souls. I’m just not quite sure how I’m going to manage that.

  ENTRY END

  TO: Niels Evenstad

  FROM: Marta Evenstad

  SUBJECT: Farming Numbers

  SENT 11/5/2074 AT 3:08 p.m. EST

  Brother,

  The profits from the farming initiative are proving to be far higher than anticipated. I've sent the exact numbers to your accounting department for review, as you requested, but things are looking very promising, if the short few months we've had can be used as any sort of indication. We've already found new land to plant in India, which is projected to have an even higher profit margin than the farmland in Egypt. In short, it's a success. You put things into motion that stand to double Evenstad Enterprises' profits over the next five years.

  I hope this pleases you, Brother. I realize it's not my place to interfere with your personal life, and the company email is certainly not the right place to do this. I wouldn't think of it, but you've been impossible to contact lately, and there's something I need to say to you, whether you want to hear it or not.

  I think it would be a wise decision for you to cut back on your workload. The new show should be at a point where it's mostly autonomous. Frederick knows almost as much as you do about it. Between him and your secretary, they could finish putting the show together if you wanted to take a short vacation. Or even a long vacation. Whatever it takes to help you relax. You've been under so much stress lately, it just can't be good for you. You're going to kill yourself, at this rate.

  I hope you'll at least consider what I've said. If not for your own health, then for the sake of your family, and all the other people who care about you. Even Uncle Magnus is getting worried.

  Marta Evenstad,

  Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Farms

  —

  TO: Marta Evenstad

  FROM: Niels Evenstad

  SUBJECT: Farming Numbers

  SENT: 11/5/2074 AT 8:16 p.m. EST

  Marta,

  I'm thrilled to hear about the numbers you've managed to get from the farms. I think it could really be the start of a new chapter for our family, and for our business. If you need any help running things, you know I'll offer anything I can. I realize you weren't as well prepared as you may have liked to be when we asked you to take control of that branch.

  And you shouldn't worry yourself about me. I'm used to working hard, and I wouldn't dream of stopping. Especially not this close to the end. But if you're worried about my health, I promise you I'll go in to get looked at. I just can't afford a vacation, right now. Not until this show is done. If the second season is a success, we could continue to make money from this for years. This is the kind of phenomenon that people wait lifetimes for, Marta, and it’s in my hands. But I promise I'll relax once this is over with. I'm sure you understand.

  Niels Evenstad,

  Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media

  JOURNAL 10ALEXA

  ENTRY 001

  DATE: 1/2/2075

  I can plainly say this is the worst thing that's ever happened to me. And I imagine everyone else in my position could say the same thing. I've been kidnapped and stowed away in a dirty-ass mall. I've already seen a bunch of people around here, but they seem to either not know I'm here or be totally ignoring me. Either way, I'm not about to complain. This stupid mall is so small, I sure as hell won't be able to sneak around or anything, so the longer I stay lucky and stay hidden, the better off I'm going to be.

  I've holed myself up in a big bookstore on the second floor. It makes me feel a little bit better. Better on the surface, at least. Books are comforting. Not to mention that it gives me a lot of places to try and hide, if it comes down to it. I don't know. It's a big lie I'm telling to myself, I guess. Really, books aren't going to do me any good, if someone wants to come kill me.

  The fact that someone might want to come kill me is surreal. Really surreal. And I'm a magician. I know about surreal. I do surreal for a living. I can barely even wrap my head around it. I mean, I guess they may not want to kill me, exactly. But whether they want to or they have to, it gets the same results. Someone after me. Somebody who needs me dead.

  ENTRY END

  JOURNAL 09YESENIA

  ENTRY 001

  DATE: 1/2/2075

  It's the first day I've managed to do anything other than sit here. But just barely. I don't understand any of this. I was heading home from work, and I was ready to see my baby girl. And then… that's it. I don't have any other memories besides waking up in this stupid mall. I crawled over to a kitchen store and hid out there. I kept looking at the knives, thinking I needed one. The letter I had talked about lethal force. But I wasn't going to be able to do that. I couldn't do that. I'm a nurse. I protect people, keep them from dying.

  So I sat, and I thought. The tablet I'm supposed to use for this journal shows the date. January second. Which makes it that much worse. I was heading home from work on December twenty-eighth. Which means somewhere, I lost three days. Three days of absolutely nothing. I don't know what that means. I don't get what any of this means. It's some kind of disgusting joke, putting me in here. But it's not funny. They forced me to leave my baby girl. She's not even a year. What's going to happen to her, with all this? But the people who did this don't care. They obviously don't put any value in human life. And if this show was on last year, doing the same thing to innocent people… just one more reason I'm glad we don't have TV at home.

  Plus it means Rosa won't have to watch her mommy die.

  ENTRY END

  JOURNAL 01MARCUS

  ENTRY 001

  DATE: 1/3/2075

  Horrid. I did my best to escape this ridiculous program last year, which was no easy task. Everyone online, everyone on the news, everyone in the magazines. All of them talked about it, as though they didn't realize what was happening. Perhaps they didn't. Perhaps they chose to believe that it couldn't possibly be real, that humanity couldn't sink to such a level that we would display senseless murder and greed for the world to see, pass
it off as entertainment. I, too, wondered, at least a bit. But the fact that we didn't know for sure, and yet we, as a species, still watched. That was enough to keep me from participating.

  Now I know it's real. I woke up here and read that ridiculous letter. It barely told me anything. I certainly don't remember receiving any kind of release papers, or any other paperwork, for that matter. Forgery seems likely, because I certainly wouldn't sign up to put my life on the line. Not for a mere chance at twenty-million dollars. Not for any money. Money does me no good when I’m dead.

  I've gone into an electronics store on the first floor. There's no cover here and, when I checked to see if I could pull down the security gate, I found it had been removed, or perhaps never installed. Either way, there was nothing there I could use as protection. But I was hoping that I’d be able to hook up something between the video cameras and TVs in here. If I could have found a way to monitor my surroundings without exposing myself, it would certainly have been useful. How useful, I can’t say for certain. Choosing this store left me unarmed. At most, I would have been able to watch and wait for my own death to come. I’d rather have it that way than have it be a surprise, I think. Not that any of it matters. None of the cameras had batteries in them. Seems like a stupid thing to take away, really.

  In the end, it will come down to who is most willing to kill for the sake of their own life. I'd like to think I would never do such a thing, but I can't be sure. And given the circumstances, I don't know that I would want to be sure. I do know that I don't want to think about it. Not until I have to. Unfortunately, I'll have to think about it sooner than I want to.