The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(15)

Especially Orion.

He wears his heart on his sleeve more than Dalma, as if that’s some side effect from the viral cardiomyopathy. It’s so endearing. Anyone who makes blanket statements about New Yorkers and their harshness hasn’t met vulnerable Orion.

Dalma checks her phone. “Couple minutes until life changes as we know it. Let’s lift our spirits a bit. What’s something you want to do moving forward? I want to figure out my app and start mapping my designs.”

I have a long list of things I want to accomplish. Magazine covers, Met Gala appearances, walking down the runway at Fashion Week. Though that won’t be accomplished this year alone. I have to put in the time and the work to reach that status. That’s what I’ll keep doing. I’ll book more gigs and keep bulking up so more scouts take me seriously. But after everything I’ve been feeling tonight while walking through this new city, and meeting new souls, I’m inspired to say, “I want to make great memories. Something to look back on whenever existing seems hard.”

Orion grins and nods. “I like that.”

But even behind his grin, I can tell he’s masking some pain. “What about you?”

“Be fast,” Dalma says.

I really wouldn’t mind if Orion wanted to tell another story.

“I don’t want to die,” Orion spits out.

“Didn’t I say let’s be uplifting?”

“Fine, I want to keep living.”

I appreciate his spin, but he doesn’t seem as amused by himself as I am.

We all turn our attention to the mega screen. But Orion’s eyes are closed like he doesn’t want to look at the hourglass. He’s shivering even though it’s pretty warm except for the occasional breeze. No, he’s shaking. His bottom lip is trembling. I think he’s nervous about dying, as if Death-Cast is really going to call him in this next minute. I say his name, and Orion peeks, but then shuts his eye closed again. He’s fighting back more tears. There’s no need to hide a good cry, I’ve been there—multiple times today, in fact.

I lean into his ear. “You’re going to be okay.”

It’s a promise I can’t make, but I’ll hope every day that it’s true.





Orion


11:59 p.m.

I write short stories because I am one.

I wish I was a novel.

Breaths away from midnight, I know my final chapter is close.

I look up at Valentino, wondering what life could’ve offered if I had more pages in me.





PART TWO


Death-Cast


Death-Cast won’t just tell people when they’ll die. We’ll make sure their lives don’t go unlived.

—Joaquin Rosa, creator of Death-Cast





July 31, 2010





Joaquin Rosa


12:00 a.m.

Death-Cast might call Joaquin Rosa to tell him he’s going to die, but it would be a shame for the company’s creator to not live long enough to see how his creation changes life as we know it.

Truth be told, there are many people who would like Joaquin dead.

People fear change, and this is the biggest change the world has experienced since the internet. It doesn’t help that Joaquin won’t tell the public how his company can predict when someone will die. He understands the curiosity behind this life-changing service. He’s even been amused by the more outrageous theories, such as psychics with futuristic crystal balls, a league of assassins killing people to create balance in an overpopulated world, and—his personal favorite—time-travelers jumping into the future and returning with the next day’s obituaries. Nonetheless, Joaquin is remaining tight-lipped because he doesn’t believe the world is ready for the truth.

Once that door opens, there will be no closing it.

Shortly after Death-Cast’s very discreet inception years ago, Joaquin disclosed everything to Central Intelligence. And by everything, he means everything. Death-Cast has become Joaquin’s life’s work—a mission even greater than fatherhood—and that work could easily be shut down without governmental support. The process was absolutely draining, so much so that he was tempted to quit before he could begin. But the service Death-Cast will provide is far too important to every living soul who has been robbed by the grim reaper without warning. Sure, some of Joaquin’s intentions have ultimately been limited by the government, and he’s dreading the day that Death-Cast’s power is abused, but for now, he’s been cleared to start the work.

The moment is finally here.

Inside Death-Cast’s flagship headquarters in New York City, Joaquin Rosa is ready to change the world.

He’s going to make history by calling the first Decker, the official name he decided his staff would call those who are about to die. He believes every Decker must be treated as if they’re on the decks of their own ships, the captains of their journeys, with their final destinations on the horizon.

There’s a quote by the author John A. Shedd that Joaquin thinks of often: “A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.”

He likes to think he’s giving people the opportunity for one last sail.

Earlier this evening during his CNN special, Joaquin was asked if opting in to End Day notifications was doing a disservice to how life should be experienced without warning of when it’s all over.