Down the Brink

by Lisa von Biela

  “Okay. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  Aggie got out, filled the tank, and made a quick trip to the restroom. By the time she got back, Gil was asleep, his head slumped to one side. She studied his face for a moment before starting the car. He had changed. She could see it, even as he slept. Like a layer of his soul had been peeled away, leaving someone both more vulnerable—and more hardened.

  Gil put down his fork and savored the last bite of his steak. Felt like years, not months, since he’d last eaten anything that didn’t taste like warmed-up cardboard. Or since he’d last given a shit what he ate.

  Aggie watched him from behind her wine glass. “Are you still hungry? Do you want another potato?”

  “Nah, thanks, I’m good.”

  He took a sip of beer, another pleasure he’d missed. Aggie’d stocked the fridge with his favorite microbrew. She’d made his favorite dinner: blood-rare ribeye and a real baked potato with all the trimmings, not some pathetic microwaved lump of starch. But was she really happy to have him back, or was she trying to make up for something she’d done?

  Every single day since that visit when he spotted the mark on Aggie’s neck, he battled the suspicion that she’d been seeing someone while he was locked up. Some days he felt certain he was right; other days he almost convinced himself he was wrong. Either way, something didn’t feel quite right. An awkwardness, a distance between them that had never been there before. Like they didn’t know how to be with each other anymore. Maybe he should quit dwelling on it and try to enjoy being home again. Probably just a natural result of being separated for so long. After all, he’d only been home a few hours.

  Aggie poured herself another glass of wine and peered at him, her eyes wide. “Are you okay? You look a little tired.”

  “I’m all right. It’s good to be home. Strange, but good.”

  “It must have been horrible for you in there.”

  “I’d rather not talk about it. Not yet, anyway.” He sipped more beer and leaned forward. “So, what’d I miss while I was gone?”

  Aggie flinched at the question. Not a good sign. He only meant to start a conversation, but it looked more like he drew blood.

  She stared down into her wine as if she were struggling to choose the right words. “Oh, mostly just keeping with some sort of daily routine, as normal as possible. Go to work, come home, housework. Working on the yard. That sort of thing.” Her brows furrowed and she cleared her throat. “A few weeks ago, something happened, though.”

  “What?”

  She downed the rest of her wine, poured herself another glass, and took a deep breath as she stared into her lap. Once she got started, the words came out in a rush.

  “There was this guy at work. Lennie. He mostly kept to himself. No one knew him really well. Anyway, he apparently developed some kind of crush on me. When he realized nothing was going to come of it, he showed up one night, acting crazy. He was outside the front door, trying to get in. I called the cops. When they showed up, he pulled a gun and shot himself.” She waved a hand toward the front door. “Right out there.”

  “Dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my God. That must have been horrible.”

  “It was. I saw it all through the window. Then I passed out. Next thing I remember is some EMT in here, checking me out. I spent the rest of the night at the police station, answering questions over and over. They figured he had some undiagnosed mental issue and closed the file.”

  Gil went to her, took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

  It never would have happened if he’d been around. Yet another of the countless ways his arrest had ripped their lives apart. But her story did sound a little rehearsed. Was there more to it? Had Aggie returned the guy’s attentions for a while, then cut it off—or had it truly all been in his head? Whichever it was, he was gone, and whatever did or did not happen was over. No point in letting it destroy their marriage now.

  He gently lifted her chin and kissed her. It felt strange and clumsy at first, like a first-date kiss. But only for a moment. “I missed you so much,” he murmured into her ear as they stumbled into the bedroom, clinging to each other.

  Gil let himself be consumed by every sound, every sensation. It was like they were trying to make up for six months of separation in a single night. Nothing else mattered but the here and now. No room for painful thoughts; no room for traumatic memories. At least not while they were completely immersed in each other.

  Deep in the night, Gil rolled over and awoke from a confusing, fragmented dream. At first, he didn’t grasp that he was home, not in his cell. Then he heard Aggie crying softly beside him. He squeezed his eyes tight shut, clenched his jaw, and fought back his own tears.

  It was all over now. Safe at last. What happened to him with brutal, degrading regularity in the last few weeks could never happen to him again. He no longer had to fear the night.

  CHAPTER 38

  First Tuesday in November, 2021

  Los Lobos, California

  “Hey. Time for happy hour. You ’bout ready to head out?” Sammy slipped on a short, black leather jacket and rearranged her blue pony tail as she stood in the doorway to Zach’s office.

  “Um, no. Sorry, can’t make it tonight.” Zach tried to think up some excuse, but came up empty. He hoped Sammy would just drop it and go this time.

  She looked concerned. “Is something the matter?”

  “No, no. I just can’t make it tonight.”

  “You sure? Boss is buying. He wants to get everyone up for the next release. Big redesign, I hear. Lot more intense than usual.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, in that case, I’ll meet you there in a little while. I have to run an errand first.”

  Sammy inclined her head and smiled. “That’s better. See ya there.” She zipped her jacket and left.

  Zach hesitated, torn. The meeting to go over all the changes planned for the new release wasn’t until Friday. Maybe he should stick around until he found out just what those changes were. What if any of them affected what he’d done to the Payoff module?

  But what if any of them caused someone to notice that the Payoff module had been altered?

  Suddenly chilled, Zach rubbed his arms. Friday was too long to wait. He had to make a move now. Things had gotten too weird over the last month. At first, he thought he was being paranoid, but not anymore. If he had to bet, he’d bet they already knew what he’d done, or had a really strong suspicion. Either way, he couldn’t risk sticking around.

  He tried to chalk it up to an overactive imagination that time he found things moved around in his apartment. Such small details, so subtle. Maybe he’d drawn the blind and forgotten he did it. Maybe the landlord had been in there and forgotten to give him notice. He’d been nervous, stressed about what he’d done. Could explain that incident. If that incident had been a one-off.

  But since then, he’d had a creepy feeling, like he was being followed. And the feeling kept getting worse. More than once, he’d arrived home and noticed a man sitting alone in a car in the parking lot. He could just make out a silhouette in the car’s dark interior. Enough to think it was the same guy, but not enough where he’d recognize him in the light of day. Same car each time, one he didn’t remember seeing before. Maybe it was someone who’d recently moved in, but why sit out in the car like that?

  And then there was that time he went for a run. He felt like someone was watching him then, too, though he saw no one else out on the trail. Just as he turned to head back to his apartment, he could swear something moved in the bushes right by him. Might have been an animal but it sure as hell wasn’t the wind. Spooky enough to put a quick end to going out on that trail alone.

  And all those things started happening after that weird meeting with Benetti. Couldn’t be a coincidence. And if they figured out what he did, it would get him fired—at best. After all, he did deliberately try to short-circuit their lucrative secret business arrangement. They might sue him, or even try
to get him thrown in jail.

  He’d replayed that meeting in his mind more times than he could count, analyzing it from every angle. They were at least tracking his comings and goings at the office. That much was clear from Benetti’s remarks. Why wouldn’t they track him outside of work, too? They surely had the technology—and the motivation.

  Zach shook his head. He’d been so careful to cover up what he’d done, only to blow it by skipping the wrong happy hour. A stupid, simple thing. He’d have gotten away with it except for that. Too late to think about that now. He was out of his league. Way out.

  He glanced around his office once more, then patted his pants pocket to make sure he had his thumb drive. Better hang onto that. Might need it as a bargaining chip someday, so he could prove what the original Payoff_External was designed to do.

  Zach deadbolted his apartment door and sprinted to his bedroom. He yanked an old gym bag out from the back of the closet and tossed it onto the bed. He rooted through his dresser drawers, flinging socks and underwear into the bag, plus some spare change and cash he had stashed. Then he tugged open another drawer, grabbed some T-shirts and a few pair of jeans, and stuffed them into the bag. That, and the shoes and jacket he had on, should do for clothes.

  He hurried to the kitchen for a plastic grocery bag, then went into the bathroom and dumped all his toiletries into it. He tied the handles together and shoved it into his bag with everything else. Then he went back out into the main room and jammed his laptop and its accessories into his computer bag.

  Zach stood in the bedroom, hands on his hips and slightly breathless, staring down at everything he’d packed. Was there anything else he absolutely couldn’t live without—or didn’t dare leave behind? He shrugged, snatched up his bags and headed out into the main room for one last look.

  His standalone MoonPop game lay on the coffee table. He gazed at it for a moment, shook his head, and made for his car.

  Zach took the main highway out of town, driving through the twilight as fast as he dared. The last thing he needed was the Highway Patrol flagging him down for some damned thing. A couple of hours later, it looked like another world outside his windshield. Gone was the no-space-left-undeveloped landscape of Los Lobos. Out here, each little town was a discrete entity, separated from its neighbor by several miles of nothing but sage and low scrub. He glanced in the rearview again. Still nothing. So far, it seemed he’d slipped out of town undetected. A good start, anyway.

  His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. He glanced at the dash clock. Nearly nine. Good time to stop for the night and rest up so he could think straight in the morning. He gazed out at the road. The next town’s lights flickered in the distance. Looked to be only a few miles away.

  Just at the edge of town, a red neon arrow flashed at the side of the road, beckoning him to pull into the Stop-Inn. He parked right in front of the office. The place looked old, but not too dumpy. There were a dozen rooms and only a couple of cars. Fine with him.

  He stepped inside, and a fat, squat little pug came huffing out from behind the front desk. It evaluated him with bulging, bloodshot eyes, let off a grumble of a bark, and retreated behind the desk. The owner came out, wiping her hands on a dishrag. The resemblance was incredible.

  “Help you?”

  “Yeah, need a room.”

  “Just you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Fifty. Cash.”

  “Sure.” Zach fished for his wallet and slapped the money down on the counter.

  “Room Eight.” She slid a key toward him. “Anything else?”

  “Is there somewhere to eat near here?”

  She waved her arm in the general direction of the town. “Couple restaurants on the main drag. Probably closed by now, though. There’s a vending machine in the laundry room at the end of the building. Otherwise, you might still be able to get something at the C-store in town.”

  “Thanks.”

  Zach grabbed the key, parked his car in front of the room, and hauled his bags inside. One tired-looking bed, a card table, an old wooden chair with a patched leg, and a bathroom with a fiberglass shower stall. Old and rickety, but clean. It would do.

  He went to the laundry room and checked out the vending machine. Not much to choose from. He shoved some coins in, got a can of Coke and a dinky bag of potato chips, took them to his room, and locked himself in for the night.

  Zach set up his laptop on the table and connected to the Wi-Fi. Sluggish. Probably lucky to have a connection at all out here. He checked his email and surfed for news. Nothing of particular interest. He didn’t expect anything yet. Sammy would just assume he blew off the happy hour after all. No one would think anything was amiss until the workday began tomorrow without him there.

  He leaned back in his chair and sighed. Sammy. Losing her was the worst thing about all of this. He hated having to leave her behind without any warning or explanation, but sometimes that was the only way to protect someone you love. It had taken him years, but eventually he’d come to realize that by leaving him, his mother gave him a far better life than she herself could have. Sammy would never know why he left, but she’d be better off. Safer.

  Still, it hurt. For the first time, he’d found someone he could relate to on every level, only to have to let her go. They’d grown so close so fast, it was like they were always meant to be together. She’d already suggested moving in with him. He told her his place was too small for two people, besides, that would be a big step to take so quickly. Blah, blah, blah. Excuses, all of it. Really, he was scared. He didn’t feel secure in his own apartment anymore, and he didn’t want to have to worry about her being there, too.

  He didn’t like keeping things from her or making up bullshit excuses, but it was for her own good. He couldn’t let her—or anyone—in on what he’d done. Wouldn’t be fair. He stared at his email. If only he could at least tell her he was okay, that she shouldn’t worry. But he didn’t dare do even that much. She’d ask questions she shouldn’t know the answer to.

  This was all his own damned fault. He should have just called the goddamned Payoff module in his code like Russ told him to do. End of story. But no, he had to get curious, go digging around. If he’d just done what he was told to do, he never would have uncovered what he did, never would have been tempted to do what he did.

  And he’d be back in Los Lobos with Sammy right now. Happy, the happiest he’d ever been with anyone. Instead of cowering in some fleabag motel, missing her already and knowing how much she’d hurt when she discovered he was gone. What a horrible, stupid mess he’d made.

  Stomach growling, he devoured the stale chips in no time flat and guzzled his Coke. He chucked the trash into the plastic bin next to the bed, then got up and peered out a gap in the ratty curtains. No action at the motel. A lonely car buzzed on down the highway, chasing the glow of its own headlights. Zach made sure the door was locked, then turned and leaned his back against it.

  So this was what it was like to be on the run.

  CHAPTER 39

  First Wednesday in November, 2021

  Los Lobos, California

  Roy Benetti set aside the report he was reading and slapped his cell to his ear. “Yeah, Jess. What’s up?”

  “He’s gone.”

  “Where?”

  “Tracker shows him a hundred or so miles east of town.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Last night. Early evening. Security records show he left the office about the normal time, then the tracker shows movement beginning a couple of hours after that.”

  “Where were you?”

  Jess stammered, “Well, I waited in the parking lot like I usually do, but after a while I figured he was in for the night. Besides, what would you’ve wanted me to do if I’d been there—grab him? He could have just been going out to get some food.”

  Roy rubbed the throbbing spot between his eyes. Just what he needed to start his day. “You’re right. Sorry.�
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  He clicked the icon on his PC and pulled up Winters’ calendar. It showed a couple of developer meetings, some work time blocked out. A typical day for someone in his unit.

  “How far can he be tracked?”

  “It’s satellite-based, no range limit.”

  “Good. Keep me posted. And get out to his apartment right away. Maybe something there’ll tell us what he’s up to.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Roy tossed his cell onto his desk and ran a hand through his hair. That kid’s up to something. But what? Had he figured out MoonPop’s relationship to GSI? Had he gone nosing around the Payoff module? How much did he know and why did he leave town like that?

  Trembling, he launched the release management system, then clicked on the file properties for Payoff_External. The Last Modified metadata looked as it should. The module was untouched, but that didn’t mean Winters hadn’t somehow managed to view its contents and figure out what it really did.

  Roy clicked another icon, entered his remote logon credentials, and accessed GSI’s network. He clicked the tab for personnel files and searched for Zach Winters. Because of the nature of its business, GSI scrutinized its employees to a much greater extent than MoonPop could ever get away with. Security and all that. They ran IQ tests, personality profiles, and extensive background checks on each applicant before making a hiring decision.

  He scrolled through Winters’s file. Squeaky clean background. Genius-level IQ. His personality profile showed he tended to be idealistic. Yet he took the GSI job. Could he have had an ulterior motive?

  Roy clenched his jaw. Stupid not to check out Winters’s GSI records before they decided to hire him. Could have been a red flag in there they should have paid attention to. But it seemed like nothing more than a coincidence at the time. GSI’s loss, MoonPop’s gain. No big deal. Did Winters know all along or did something prompt him to make the connection between GSI and MoonPop?

  An hour or so later, his cell rang. Jess again. “Yeah, what’d you find?”