The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(18)

All these thoughts are too surreal.

I came to New York City to change my life, and instead I’m going to die here.

I refocus on the call, ready to move on. “Unless you have something more concrete to share, I guess this is it.”

“Before you go, Valentino, I’d like you to know that on death-cast.com there are various resources on how to talk about your End Day with loved ones, written by some top-tier grief counselors. There will also be different activities updated throughout the day that may be worth participating in,” Joaquin says.

Does Death-Cast really think Deckers are going to sit around doing nothing?

I already have plans today. I’m going to sleep in my new apartment before my photo shoot in the morning. Then Scarlett and I are going to explore the city and set up our home and probably celebrate everything by eating dinner on our hardwood floor and using our boxes as tables. And sometime after, or many hours before, I’m apparently going to die.

“I have plans” is all I say.

“Very well. I’ll leave you to it,” Joaquin says. “On behalf of Death-Cast, we are sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest.”

No one is going to lose me. I’m not going to be lost.

I’m going to live.

Right as I’m about to hang up the phone, a gunshot echoes across Times Square.





Orion


12:06 a.m.

Just when I thought the Death-Cast ringtone was the scariest thing I’d hear tonight, there’s a gunshot.

Gunshots.

Everyone who’s been surrounding Valentino starts fleeing in different directions, like roaches when the lights come on. Then a white man with a skull mask appears out of nowhere, firing his gun. Dalma tugs at my wrist so we can get the hell out of here, but I brake when I see Valentino standing still like one of those living statue performers. I wonder if Valentino is shocked at the skull-masked man aiming his gun at him or if he’s simply accepted his fate.

But I haven’t.

I run at Valentino, knocking him down onto the concrete, right as the gun has been fired. Another gunshot goes off, this time from the police officers as they chase down the skull-masked man who’s running away, past Dalma, who’s hiding behind an overflowing trash can. She’s terrified, I got to get her out of here too, we all got to bounce.

But I can’t move.

I feel like high-pressure air is inflating my chest, threatening to explode so fiercely it’ll pulverize my bones. There’s a burning pain between my shoulder blades, and I don’t know if a bullet hit me or not. Maybe I haven’t noticed because of adrenaline, or how fast life has been changing and ending since midnight. I want to pat myself down to see if a bullet caught me, but sharp pains are running up my arms, it’s like someone is dragging knives along them—up and down, up and down, up and down. I’m going into cardiac arrest, this is the kind of heart attack that I’ve always thought of as seismic. I try massaging my chest and sitting up to dull the pain, but it’s too miserable, and I fall on my back, my face next to shell-shocked Valentino’s.

Did I just save him?

If so, by changing his fate, did I change mine too?

Am I going to die instead of him?

Or will we both die by the end of this day?





Joaquin Rosa


12:07 a.m.

“This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper.”

That iconic quote by the poet T. S. Eliot is the first thing Joaquin Rosa thinks about after hanging up with Valentino Prince. He already knows how he’ll tweak it for his memoir:

This is the way the first Death-Cast call ends, not with a whimper but a bang.

Joaquin fully expected some whimpering after telling the first Decker he would die today, but instead there was a bang—a gunshot. Many gunshots, to be precise, each one making him want to jump in his seat as if he were being hit by all the bullets. He’s safe, mercifully, but he can’t say the same for today’s remaining Deckers who may be victims of this attack.

Is Valentino Prince a victim, or is he the attacker?

Solving that mystery isn’t Joaquin’s job.

Removing mystery from the equation of death is.

Joaquin jumps out of his seat, turning to the heralds who have been waiting in the wings for his command. “Begin the End Day calls,” he says, doing his best to keep his composure. The call was private, so no one else heard the gunshots, but it won’t be long before it’s pieced together that an act of violence occurred moments after speaking with the first Decker. He knows that Death-Cast will be blamed for this, scaring off the investors he needs to go global with the program.

The heralds look like ghosts as they float across the room in their white button-down shirts and light gray slacks and ties. Joaquin prepped them to look cool, calm, and collected, the very image the world needs to see to understand the strength and professionalism of the people on the other side of these phones and computers. He releases a deep sigh as the heralds take their seats, switch on their monitors, and get to work.

One look at Naya and Joaquin knows his wife senses a disturbance. He’ll clue her in after the media has been dismissed, but he’ll have to be fast because once all those reporters and photographers have their phones returned to them, they’ll discover the attack and everyone will blame Death-Cast.