Days' End

by Scott L Collins

“Is there anything else you think I should know, Mr. Stevens?”

  “No, sir. Should I let him know you will be contacting him directly?”

  “No, Mr. Stevens. I don’t want you to have any further contact with him at all. I will take care of everything.” The lawyer practically jumped from his chair when Scario rose. “And please, Mr. Stevens, stop for a massage on the way out. You look tense.” Scario turned and left the room, leaving the young man to let himself out. Mr. Stevens rose slowly from his chair and shuffled slowly toward the door, but paused when he heard Scario pick up the phone in the next room and begin speaking.

  “Please have Thomas report to my quarters immediately.”

  The attorney could feel the bile rising in the back of his throat and moved swiftly to the door, closing it quietly behind him. His stomach churned as he stood in the elevator, trying to imagine the reason for Thomas’ summons.

  Unfortunately I had to terminate one of my most trusted employees today. It was either that or the two meddling idiots from California. In the end it’s easier to cover up one death than two, and I don’t care to draw any attention to myself at the moment. Without a lead from the airport—and now without Mr. Stevens to speak to—maybe they will go home, and I can conclude my business here in peace. If they don’t, I may have to terminate them as well. I would prefer not to though, as three deaths are much harder than one to carry out without the wrong people being alarmed as a result. I am now beginning to think I know who is behind the “accidents” and odd occurrences at the facility. It’s the only way to explain the lack of fingerprints and keycard entries, the freak incidents, and the medical problems among the personnel. How dare he? He has cursed me for long enough. Why oppose me when my only desire is to finally bring about an end to this Godforsaken life?

  October 19,

  Outside Castle Rock, CO

  Jacqueline was now starting to experience some of the less pleasant aspects of pregnancy. She was constantly tired, her back was killing her, and she didn’t think she would ever fit back into her normal shoe size. Although she had been advised about possible pregnancy symptoms, she really hadn’t thought it would be this bad. One thing she hadn’t been prepared for was an entire night of sleep lost due to baby hiccups. Hiccups? The baby? She’d never heard of such a thing. Nevertheless, she had tossed and turned until four o’clock in the morning waiting for the baby to stop so she could go to sleep.

  There were also days she almost couldn’t get out of bed come morning, mostly because she really didn’t want to. She wasn’t feeling well, she really didn’t have anywhere she had to go, and she was cozy under her blankets. What’s the point? she asked herself. On those days she forced herself up for the good of the baby. She didn’t want to put any undue risk on the baby simply because she felt lazy that day. So she continued to get her exercise and fresh air. Nysa helped a great deal too, stopping by her room to encourage her to go walking outside with her. It’s hard to say no to a friend that wants to take a stroll and make you laugh.

  After their walk, Jacqueline and Nysa headed upstairs to the medical floor for a baby checkup. The doctor entered the room in a wheelchair and stopped at the end of Jacqueline’s examination table to begin the appointment. The two women exchanged a quizzical look. “Uh, Doctor?” Nysa looked at him questioningly.

  “If you must know,” he began. “I was wandering the grounds the other day and stepped on some kind of animal trap. Damn thing nearly took my right foot off. I injured the other one trying to push the cursed thing open,” he added sheepishly. “Seems the soles of my shoes aren’t quite as thick as I thought they were. Anyway, we’re not here to discuss my medical condition, it’s you and the baby we’re concerned with,” he stated as he turned to face Jacqueline. Jacqueline lay back on the table as the doctor positioned himself for the exam.

  The appointment went as normal, the doctor taking Jacqueline’s weight, blood pressure, a urine sample, and checking the baby’s heartbeat. The baby was developing quite rapidly now, having crossed the foot-long mark and now weighing over two pounds. Jacqueline asked the doctor if he could remove a few of her ribs before the baby kicked and broke them, but he politely declined. After answering the few serious questions she and Nysa had, the doctor wheeled himself out of the room. Nysa followed and closed the door behind them. Jacqueline got dressed and joined Nysa for lunch in the main cafeteria.

  October 31, Castle Rock, CO

  Alastair had not heard from Mr. Stevens and decided to give him a call for a status update.

  “Good morning, Law Office of Gary Stevens. How may I help you?” a chipper voice answered on the other end.

  “I’m trying to get a hold of Mr. Stevens. Is he available?”

  “I’m sorry sir. According to my calendar he is back in his Los Angeles office. I believe he left this past weekend. Would you like the phone number there?”

  Alastair groaned. “No thanks, I have it.”

  “Thank you for calling. Have a nice day,” she replied cheerfully.

  Alastair hung up the phone and called the L.A. office.

  “Law Office of Gary Stevens, please hold,” came the voice on the other end. After a moment, the receptionist returned. “Thank you for holding. How may I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m trying to reach Mr. Stevens, please.”

  “I’m sorry, he’s not in the office. May I take a message?”

  “Do you know when he’ll be in?”

  “No, but I can relay a message. May I ask who’s calling?”

  “My name is Alastair Mann. He was supposed to call me with some information, but I haven’t heard from him. It’s quite urgent.”

  “Does he have your number? I can ask him to call you when I hear from him, sir.”

  “No, thanks.” Alastair sighed and hung up the phone.

  “No luck?” Carl asked.

  “No. His Castle Rock office says he went back to L.A., but he’s not there and they say they don’t know when he’ll be in. Looks like he blew us off.” Alastair sat dejectedly in the lumpy hotel chair.

  “Don’t you have his cell phone number?”

  Alastair glanced sheepishly at his father and picked up his cell phone. He dialed the number and put the phone to his ear. After a moment he set the phone back down. “Voicemail.” He leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. “I guess I’ll try him again tomorrow. Maybe he’s in a meeting with Scario.”

  “Scario,” Carl repeated, his gaze drifting out the first floor window, lost in thought. “Why does that name seem familiar?”

  “I’ve had the same feeling. I don’t know why, but it sticks in my head and I don’t like it. It seems bad, but I couldn’t tell you why. I’ve never met the man—never even spoken to him. All I can tell you is that the name Scario leaves a foul taste in my mouth.”

  “It’s him,” his father answered slowly. “It’s The Betrayer.”

  “Okay,” Alastair replied. “Please tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Scario isn’t who he pretends to be.” Carl sat down in a chair next to Alastair and filled him in on his newly developed theory.

  November 6, Castle Rock, CO

  Nearly a week had passed and Alastair still hadn’t had any luck contacting Mr. Stevens. When he called the lawyer’s cell phone he was told that the mailbox was full, and when he called the office in Castle Rock the receptionist told him that Mr. Stevens wasn’t in but that she would be happy to take a message. Alastair declined politely and fought the urge to slam the phone down. He called the Los Angeles office again.

  “Law Office of Gary Stevens, may I help you?” came the answer.

  “Mr. Stevens, please.”

  “I’m sorry, he’s not in. May I take a message?”

  “Miss, I’ve left several messages already and haven’t heard from him. It’s very urgent that I speak with him. Do you have another number for him?”

  “I don’t. I’m sorry. Is this Mr. Mann?” she asked.

  “Yes.�
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  “Sir, I’m sorry but Mr. Stevens hasn’t been in the office and he hasn’t checked in to retrieve his messages. I’ll be sure to let him know you need to speak to him as soon as I hear from him.”

  “Are you telling me you haven’t heard from or seen him in a week and a half?” Alastair stammered.

  “Um, yes sir,” she replied meekly.

  “Aren’t you worried something happened to him?”

  “A little, but he does things like this from time to time. Usually it’s about a week. I’m sure he’ll be in the office in the next day or two and I will make sure you are at the top of the list of his calls to return. Again, I’m sorry for the delay.”

  “Okay...thanks. Sorry to be so short with you, I just really need to talk to him. Have a good rest of your day.” Alastair hung up the phone. He turned to Carl. “No dice. Apparently he disappears for a week or so every now and then. She said she’d put my name at the top of the list of phone calls to return. Must be nice to be able to not show up or call in for work and not get canned. Speaking of which, I need to check in with my boss.”

  Alastair called in to work while his father sat down on the end of one of the beds and turned on the television.

  “This is Suzy. May I help you?”

  “Hey, it’s Alastair. How’s everything going there?”

  “Hey Alastair. I’m glad you called, I need you back. Are you about done?”

  “Not yet, Suzy. I’m sorry, can I get more time?”

  “I can give you another week,” she replied, “but then I’ll need to replace you. I’m sorry Alastair. I’m swamped and I need a body in here. I’d like it to be yours, but I’ll take what I can get at the moment.”

  “Thank you Suzy, for everything, and God bless.” Alastair closed his eyes and put his head down in his hands. “It’s time to get started on the less-than-pleasant approach,” he mumbled.

  “I’m sorry?” Carl grabbed the remote and turned down the volume on the television as he turned to face Alastair.

  “I have to get started trying to find her on my own. I can’t wait any longer for Mr. Stevens to call. If I don’t start now, I don’t think I’ll have enough time to hack into the system and try to find a way in to the facility.”

  “Where are you going to start?” his dad asked, getting up and crossing the room to where Alastair was sitting.

  “I have to find out who we sold the program to. If I can find that, I might be able to move forward. There’s really no other option I can think of.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Carl asked.

  “Unfortunately not,” Alastair replied, looking up from his hands. “I think I’m going to have to do this on my own, or with help from someone who can at least program the clock on their VCR.”

  “My expertise lies in other areas.” Carl replied, not taking the bait. “Let me know when you get hungry, I am capable of going for food.” Carl gave his son a pat on the shoulder and returned to his seat.

  November 8, Castle Rock, CO

  Carl picked up the morning paper and headed back to the hotel with the coffees and bagels he’d also purchased while out on his morning walk. He and Alastair had visited the airport a few more times over the last week or so, but with no more luck than they’d had previously. When he got back to the hotel, Alastair was in the shower.

  He set Alastair’s coffee and the bagels on the table and sat down to read the paper. He froze at the sight of the first headline. “Local attorney found dead on Pikes Peak.” According to the article a human body had been found a short way off of Barr Trail. There had been no identification on the body and investigators suspected that whoever dumped the body had hoped that the next snowfall would conceal the body until the following spring. By then identification of the body would have been exceedingly more difficult, if not impossible, especially if the body was discovered by a wild animal or two.

  Two unlucky hikers had found the body after leaving the trail to urinate. The autopsy declared a broken neck to be the cause of death. It also determined that the broken neck was not the result of a fall, which would be the obvious assumption. A hiker out on the mountain missteps and takes a tumble down over the side of the trail. Open and shut case. The Medical Examiner had had a feeling that something wasn’t quite as it appeared, and the tests revealed injuries inconsistent with a fall. The case was being treated as a homicide.

  Although badly mutilated from blunt force trauma, and further damaged from tumbling down a rocky incline and exposure to the elements for nearly a month, the medical examiner later identified the body as one Mr. Gary Stevens of Castle Rock, CO. The police department set up a tip line for anyone who might have information that would be helpful to the investigators. As of yet, there were no suspects in the case. Clues and details were sketchy and incomplete. The detectives acknowledged they would need some assistance to bring the killer to justice. Carl set the paper down and turned on the television while waiting for Alastair to finish in the bathroom.

  “Bad news, bud,” Carl said to Alastair and handed him his coffee.

  “What now?” asked Alastair while glancing at the television. “The end of Days of Our Lives? It’s not that bad.”

  “Not the television, the newspaper.”

  Alastair picked up the paper and read the headline. Carl watched as Alastair’s face went sheet-white. “What happened?” he asked, dropping the paper back on the table and falling into a nearby chair.

  “Seems someone broke Mr. Stevens’ neck and dumped his body up in the mountains. The article said he’s been dead around three weeks. Guess that explains why he didn’t call you back.”

  Alastair got up and began pacing around the room. He kept glancing at the television which was now broadcasting the latest CDC update. It seemed that although the symptoms from the mystery virus had begun to taper off, there was a severe recurrence now involving painful sores. While this wasn’t occurring in every case, it was widespread enough to cause concern. Alastair turned off the television and walked back to where his father sat watching him. He set his coffee on the table and leaned against the back of one of the chairs.

  “Any ideas, Dad?”

  “Other than following up with the architect? No. I was hoping you might have something else. Doesn’t seem to be much I can do in your current line of investigation, at least not using your methods. With Stevens being a dead end, no pun intended, it looks like I’m left going back to the airport. I was hoping you would have a better idea. I’d really prefer to not go back there.”

  “I feel your pain,” Alastair replied. “I guess you can go to his office and see if they’ll give you any information on Scario. They might have an address or at least a phone number for him. Maybe you can track him down, and if you find him, you’ll probably find Nysa. I’m going to get back on the computer and see if I can find anything helpful.”

  “Anything but the airport. I’ll get going.” Carl got up from the small table and grabbed the keys to the rental car. “Need me to pick up anything while I’m out?” he asked Alastair as he made his way to the door.

  “Just some snacks if you get a chance. I polished off the last of the stale pretzels last night. Grab a few bags of chips and some soda on the way home.” Carl was about to close the door when Alastair called him back in. “How about you grab a pizza on the way home, too? I like tacos as much as the next guy, but we’ve had them every night for the past four nights. I need something else.”

  “Will do,” his dad promised and gently closed the door behind him.

  It turned out that Mr. Stevens’ office had a sign on the door stating they would be closed for the remainder of the week but would reopen Monday morning. Having not seen offices for any other attorneys when they’d been inside, Carl wasn’t quite sure what they’d be doing on Monday, but figured it wasn’t his concern.

  He left the law office and headed back toward the small hotel. He stopped off for breakfast at the B&B Cafe on the way, mostly to kill some time, bu
t it didn’t hurt that they also had a Big Breakfast that both Carl and Alastair were growing rather fond of. He ate in silence at the counter and headed back to the hotel.

  Carl spent the rest of the day vegetating in front of the small television, ordering in lunch, and wasting away the hours. He’d get back to the search first thing Monday morning.

  Alastair sat at his laptop and tried hacking his way into the files of the architect who’d purchased the security system Unique. It actually didn’t take him nearly as long as he’d expected it to. Apparently the architect, Mr. Harris, wasn’t particularly concerned with the security of his files. After a few hours of searching, Alastair found the blueprints of the building that utilized his program. The only problem was that he couldn’t find an actual address for the building. Throughout the files the only address he could find was that of Mr. Stevens’ law office. It seemed that the location of the facility was being kept a secret even from the man who had designed it.

  Alastair finally gave up on his quest to find out where the building was located and began examining the blueprints. If he had to break in at some point in order to find Nysa, it would be helpful if he had a rough idea of where to look.

  The plans were enormous. From the elevation drawings of the building it was relatively boring, but the further he dug into the drawings the more he realized the building was more vast than it appeared. From the vaults in the lower levels to the housing facilities and labs in the middle floors and all the way up to the floors housing the spa and restaurants, Scario had spared no expense. Knowing how the security system would work in theory, Alastair became very concerned about whether or not he’d be able to get in. When he finally got to the as-built drawings, his jaw just about hit the floor.

  “Oh shit!” Alastair muttered under his breath.

  “What?” his father asked, sitting up from his prone position on one of the beds.

  “This place is a freakin’ fortress. I’m going to be in real trouble if I have to try and break in. Looking at these blueprints of the building, Mr. Scario seems very intent on keeping out any unauthorized people. I’ll know more if I can hack into the security system itself and poke around a bit, but so far it doesn’t look good.”