by Jason Letts
“Randall, listen, I’ve just come under investigation by the Private Oversight Committee and a man named Shelman Toggler. They’re tearing the towers and my home apart. You need to find out who is behind this and put a stop to it. Call in a favor, make a deal, do whatever you have to do, but make this your top priority. OK?”
“Whoa, yeah, I’ll get right on that as soon as I’m back from vacation.”
“Your vacation is over!” Lowell said, raising his voice. “Get back to Toine and sort this out for me.”
To his credit, Randall didn’t argue for a second. Deep down Lowell knew his oldest son held his family first, even if he had other impulses that often hijacked his attention.
“I won’t let you down, Dad,” he said, sounding more sober about the situation.
“I hope not. Bolt & Keize are behind this, and they’re trying to shake me out of the company in order to weaken Bracken enough to take over. Whatever you can do to get them off the Resource Distribution Committee’s teat, you need to do that.”
Footsteps in the hallway alerted Lowell that Melody was hanging around, possibly eavesdropping on his call. If any of what he said was a revelation to her, she was dumber than she seemed.
But he wouldn’t need to speak a single word to light the spark that would engulf Bolt & Keize in flames. Carlisle had been right that he’d waited too long to deal with them, and even Keize was correct when he’d said that nothing was off limits. Lowell Bracken had suffered the first wound, and there was no telling how long it would bleed, but it would be nothing compared to the devastation coming to his enemies.
Preparing to send a message to Bolt, Lowell wondered how best to repay him for his confidence. No doubt whatever he wrote would end up in the hands of Toggler and the P.O.C., meaning he’d have to be even more cunning about keeping his phone in the future, so perhaps a simple summation to let Bolt know he knew exactly what was going on would be best.
Lowell jammed his fingers against the keys, hungry for revenge.
“You set me up,” he wrote. Bolt could guess what would come next.
CHAPTER 6
Jim Bolt had spent the work cycle happily playing in his office with his daughter, Toria, until a message came in from Lowell Bracken that sent him into a frenzy. He only had one hour of work left, including a scheduled appointment to see Arnold Keize about more marketing junk, until he was home free, but now it promised to be the most crucial hour of his life.
“You set me up,” the message read. Jim’s blood ran cold. For the first time since Maura died Jim actually had optimism for the future, and it was all thanks to the deal he was formulating with Lowell Bracken. It was a way out from the treachery and the mercilessness of the energy market, remaking both Bracken Energy and Bolt & Keize into forces for good in the world. That message cut at the heart of this dream.
It wasn’t hard for Jim to figure out what had happened. Keize had promised to go after Bracken right after they had met with him, and he was as good as his word. Jim had dreaded it and hoped he could make a presentable deal in time, but now they had none.
Slapping the intercom on his desk, Jim shouted at his secretary. When he yelled, he sounded disturbingly like Keize.
“Tell me what’s happened to Lowell Bracken.”
After acknowledging his demand, it took his secretary a few minutes to respond.
“He’s come under investigation from the Private Oversight Committee. Early news analysis suggests it’s because of improprieties within his company, and depending on how bad the findings are, he could be forced out.”
Jim leaned back in his chair and covered his mouth. From across the room, Toria glanced at him before returning to a set of dolls. Jim had been looking forward to Andressa coming in, but the threat to his deal made him feel like he was drowning.
Taking a deep breath, he thought about how badly he needed Lowell. He needed to fix this, maybe even come clean. Maybe they could find a way to dispel the investigation, or Jim could take a job at Bracken and defeat the monster he helped to create—Keize. But most of all, he didn’t know what to do.
“I promise I didn’t do this to you. I had nothing to do with it,” Jim replied, hating how he’d gone straight to groveling. Surprisingly, Bracken replied within a minute.
“Don’t feed me that bullshit, Bolt. These messages are all they have against me. You sold me out when I thought we had something to go on,” Bracken had written.
Jim began typing immediately, knowing he’d never be able to formulate the perfect response anyway. His way out was slipping away.
“I promise I didn’t. Look at these messages. Most of the time we’ve been talking about the weather! There’s no way they could be used against you,” he wrote, hoping that if he proved his innocence they could still make something work.
Unlike before, it took five excruciating minutes for Bracken to respond, during which Jim’s fears that he wouldn’t be believed escalated in his mind.
“Then what happened?”
Jim bit the knuckle of the finger that still had his wedding ring on it, knowing he’d come to a crossroads. Could he really tell Bracken what Keize had done, and if he did, would he still be blamed because he had known it was coming? To move forward, he had to place his trust in a man he hardly knew, one who was supposed to be his mortal enemy.
“Keize informed them that you betrayed your company’s interests by proposing we have a cease-fire without approval from your board or investors. He said it reduced your competitiveness, but I begged him not to do it. In perfect honesty, I want to make this deal happen. I don’t like where Keize is taking my company, and I think the both of us can create a successful clean energy organization without the bloodshed and mercilessness. Please tell me you feel the same way.”
The clock was ticking, and he’d have to leave for his appointment with Keize very soon. If he wasn’t able to wrap up or at least continue this conversation, the narrow path back to his dream might be closed off for good.
“You have to make Keize stop the investigation,” Bracken responded, noticeably ignoring all of the comments about the deal that might further condemn him.
Jim set down his phone and wrung his hands. A confrontation with Keize would not be pretty, as it would certainly unleash more of that inner demon that had surfaced during their meeting with Bracken. But he refused to turn a blind eye to someone being punished for trying to make things better.
He couldn’t let his gift to the world become Keize’s tool for manipulation and torture. For once in his life, he had to be bold and force Keize to take the right path.
Right on time, a knock came at the door and Andressa entered the room. If sex were sand she was covered in it, and from her swaying hips to her strapless top, the young woman had the air of goddess.
“How’s doing, Mr. Bolt?” Andressa asked, using the expression the locals did.
The time had come for his confrontation with Keize, and he marched across the room toward the door.
“Never better,” Jim said, taking a deep breath. “I’m off to my meeting with Keize, but before I go, there’s one more thing.”
“What’s—”
Jim reached to tilt her head back and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft but forceful, and Andressa tasted like caramel without even a hint of grit. When he pulled away, he saw that she was stunned.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she said.
Too high on his own confidence, Jim couldn’t even worry that she’d found it unpleasant.
“For so long I’ve wanted to do that and so much more.”
“I didn’t think you had the guts.” A warm grin spread across her face as she seemed to see him in a new way. Gone was the lackadaisical politeness that had tormented him.
Toria clamped onto his leg, squeezing him in a hug.
“Oh, do you want a kiss, too? I love you so much,” he said, scooping her up and planting a kiss on her.
“I love you,” she said, and he held her again
st his chest.
These comforts carried him down the long hall, around the corner, and past Keize’s young but hardened assistant. The badger had been modeling these assistants and interns after his own image, leading to the chilly, scrutinizing look Jim received from the boy behind the desk.
Without hesitating or waiting for approval, Jim opened the door and entered Keize’s office. Similarly expansive but without the toys on the floor, all the room had for furniture other than the desk and chairs were stone statues on pedestals of swordsmen in dramatic poses. To his left was a long row of windows overlooking the darkening desert, where a storm had kicked up, leading to sudden twisters that rose and vanished.
Arnold Keize held pen to paper, marking some advertising designs and ignoring the substantial amount of noise Jim made as he barged in.
“I heard Lowell Bracken has come under investigation,” Jim huffed. “I suppose that’s your handiwork.”
Because Keize’s head was bent down, it was hard to tell if he was smiling or snarling, but either way he offered no verbal response.
“Look at me!” Jim shouted, tempted to pick his partner up out of his chair.
“I hear the same thing,” Keize said, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head.
“This isn’t right. You’ve got to call it off,” Jim said, excited and nervous about how Keize would respond to his demands. He felt so full of life and energy he imagined he could do anything, even wield some control over his domineering partner.
“Call what off? I don’t have anything to do with this.” He cobbled together a shrug and a mystified frown. Jim should’ve known this was what he’d do.
“That’s a complete lie. I hate it when you lie straight to my face! You told me right after we met him that you were going to call the P.O.C. Make another call and put a stop to it now.”
Keize peered at him and leaned forward, but Jim held his resolve. If he could make his partner roll over now, he’d finally be able to get his life and work back on track.
“What, you think I’d meet Lowell Bracken for the first time and then immediately run to the phone to turn him in? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Then he’d know it was me. I was going to wait until he’d forgotten the meeting before calling,” Keize explained, putting on his slick salesman demeanor.
“I don’t believe you,” Jim said. “You’re ruining a man’s life because he wanted to protect our workers.”
Keize scratched his cheek, rested his head on his hand, and glared hard at Bolt, whose heart was beating out of his chest.
“What is this about?” Keize asked, making Jim flinch. “What does it matter to you if the man is alive or dead at the bottom of those gas-spewing pits?”
“It’s about what’s right, and even if he’s our competitor there’s no way I’m going to let an innocent—”
“No, that’s not it. Tell me what this is about,” Keize ordered. Jim couldn’t back down. In his head he was already away from this horrible place, and nothing could bring him back.
“If we’re going to really make our technology work on a global scale, we need Lowell Bracken with us, not against us. And then we could revolutionize how energy is consumed on the entire planet without leaving most of Cumeria to burn gas,” he said, believing every word of it.
“So you’ve been talking to him.” Keize nodded dismissively. Jim knew he was wading into dangerous territory.
“We’ve got some ideas that could improve things for not just consumers, but the entire business community. We can put a stop to the corporate wars like the Lus stopped the wire wars,” he said.
Keize nodded slowly and rose from his desk without ever taking his eyes off of Jim.
“This is unacceptable. There’s no way I’m going to let you betray the company you helped found by teaming up with that snobby, rich gasbag.”
Jim could see the rage bubbling in Arnold beneath the surface. As his partner approached, Jim became painfully aware that he was a few inches shorter and had a much thinner frame than Keize did.
“It’s already too late. I’m not going to let you take my beautiful panels, sully them, and then destroy them,” he said. “I will no longer stand by and let you defile my work with your manipulative campaigns and destructive schemes.”
The adrenaline raced through his veins and he began to sweat, though he was standing still. Keize gritted his teeth, coming uncomfortably close.
“That’s perfectly fine. In truth you’ve outlasted your usefulness, and I’ve been assured there’s nothing you know that the engineers don’t know. So I think we’ve come to an agreement that we’re done here,” Keize said, and Jim felt a ripple of relief at the thought that he’d simply be able to take Toria, maybe Andressa, too, and walk away from this place forever.
“But I can’t sit idly by while you help anyone develop my technology, least of all Lowell Bracken. I won’t let that possibility exist, or else it could threaten everything I’ve been building.” Keize wheezed, growing grimmer and more menacing by the word. “You see, the future belongs to me. It’s just a matter of time until I have the power to crush governments, create invincible barriers, and at the most basic level decide who has to eat and shit in the dark for four straight cycles like people did in the Age of Fire.”
“That’s sick,” Jim scoffed, disturbed how many of his ideals about influencing the masses had been twisted in such a vindictive, tyrannical way by someone he was so close to.
“It’s inevitable,” Keize said, offering a look of pity, and Jim noticed the deep wrinkles around his forehead and cheeks.
In an instant the man leapt forward, moving faster than Jim would’ve thought possible, grabbing his shirt and dragging him to the door. Bolt barely resisted, thinking getting thrown out of the office wouldn’t be that terrible. By the time he realized Keize planned to ram him headfirst into the door, it was too late to do more than shift and slam into it with his shoulder. The door shook, and the impact against Jim’s side sent a shiver of pain shooting through him.
So this was how it was going to be.
When Keize fell on him, Jim managed to get an elbow up that struck him under the ribs, causing him to gasp. The pair rolled on the floor, trying to hold each other down and land a punch. Jim had barely hit Keize once before he felt like all the strength and adrenaline had left his thin muscles.
Keize rolled Jim against one of the pedestals and got the weight of one of the falling swordsman statues on his back for the effort. Too bad it hadn’t fallen point first. But he grabbed the bulky piece of polished stone and swung it at Jim, who caught it and tried to wrestle it away.
“I had a feeling it’d turn out like this,” Jim seethed. “You’d turn on me and find a way to make me disappear, just like Maura.”
“I was glad to be rid of the nagging bitch,” Keize growled.
A surge of anger fueled a strong push that sent Keize sprawling, but by the time he could follow it up with anything the statue came swinging back, knocking Jim in the side of the head and making sparks shoot across his field of vision.
Without hesitation, Keize drilled Jim’s chest with his knee and proceeding to grab Jim by his hair and rain punches down onto his face. The agony of teeth coming loose and blood pouring from his nose sapped any remaining strength. Keize had a look of mindless rage to him. Jim’s last-ditch effort to knock Keize off balance had no force behind it.
His eyes were on the ceiling and he was virtually immobile when the door cracked open. If only it was his darling Toria come to take him away, but instead it was the callous assistant who gawked at them.
“Well?” Keize hollered, a bloody fist cocked back near his ear.
“Should I…should I change the masthead?” the assistant asked in a quaking voice.
“No, Bolt & Keize is stronger than ever! Now get the fuck out!” he roared over the door clacking shut.
More punches came, and Jim knew the end was near. All he could think about was Maura, whom he’d soon be
joining in After, and that kiss from Andressa. It was commonly believed that in After a person lived on to face their greatest regrets. Now he’d have to spend eternity knowing he’d betrayed the love of his life for something so meaningless.
Keize shook out his hand, tired of punching, and reached for the statue a few feet away on the carpet. The man appeared unraveled but satisfied at the same time. There was no question as to how it would end. Jim coughed on a tooth in his throat.
“And Toria. Tell me you’ll take care of Toria,” he gurgled, wishing he could see her one last time. She was just down the hall in his office, without a clue that her life was irrevocably changing.
“Oh, she’ll be taken care of,” Keize huffed. Jim had no idea what that meant.
It only took the heavy swordsman statue one blow to make all of Iyne go away.
CHAPTER 7
Tris spilled out of the plane, tripped on the last step, and smacked against the ground before lurching to her feet and careening into the woods. The images of her dead, mangled liaisons were burned into her retinas. Whether her eyes were open or closed, she saw their bloody bodies and remembered how she was alone to fend for herself.
Even though she quickly departed the landing strip area of the decrepit airport on the tiny island of Pover in the Still Sea, the darkness under the think canopy provided her with little comfort. Narrow paths through the brush passed around thick tree trunks, any one of which could be concealing the killer.
She had no defenses. She could only run.
Gasping and sobbing, barely able to see where she was going, she sprinted in the direction of the voices she’d heard along the shore. It was her only option, because there didn’t seem to be much else on the island, but her waning stamina had reduced her sprint to a trot long before she got there.
She still expected she would die at any moment. After seeing those neck wounds, she became acutely aware of her own skin and constantly looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was coming to tear it open.