The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(22)

And now, Joaquin is seeing his employees in action, moving around the call center like a teacher in their classroom while the students take an exam. How the heralds do tonight will determine their future in this company.

The stakes are too high to be bad at this job.

His star herald is undoubtedly Roah Wetherholt, who switched from suicide-prevention hotlines to calling people to tell them they’re going to die with the same care they previously used to save lives. It seemed as if their crisis counseling was weighing too much on their heart, not always knowing if the person went on to live. At least at Death-Cast, Roah knows the fate on the other end of the call. If Roah keeps up the good work, Joaquin anticipates he’ll be promoting them to travel the country as the company expands to train future heralds. His most surprising hire was Andrea Donahue whose rather extended résumé was a slight cause for concern, but her fierce love for her daughter really struck a chord with Naya, and the way Andrea handled her calls with tact impressed Joaquin; she’s blowing through her calls tonight with great efficiency. The same can’t be said for Rolando Rubio, a former elementary school guidance counselor who showed remarkable empathy during the test sessions, especially during the simulation where he had to speak with a parent about their dying child, but he’s moving too slowly tonight, stuck on his very first call as if it’s his job to help the Decker map out every hour of their End Day. Perhaps he’s better off working as a funeral director, where his sympathies will be better appreciated, and most important, where time isn’t of the essence.

Joaquin hovers around Rolando, tapping his watch, urging him to finish this call.

“I can’t,” Rolando mouths with teary eyes, continuing on with the Decker.

Joaquin admires Rolando’s devotion. Every Decker is a human being, and all human beings deserve respect. Too many people over the course of time have not been shown dignity while on their deathbeds. But what Joaquin ultimately needs to get across to his employees is that they must find the middle ground.

Minutes later, when Rolando finally delivers the signature parting message, he scrolls through his computer for the next Decker’s information, as if Joaquin isn’t shadowing him.

“One moment,” Joaquin says.

Rolando looks up at his boss. “Is this because I’m not going fast enough?”

“I want you to know that I appreciate all your work tonight,” Joaquin says, hoping to cool down Rolando, who’s clearly upset. “The care you’re showing will be meaningful to all Deckers and stay with them during their final hours, I’m sure of it. I simply need you to guide more Deckers before night’s end.”

“It’s a lot harder than it looks,” Rolando says.

Was Rolando not paying attention when Joaquin made tonight’s first call? Is he not aware that Joaquin is Death-Cast’s creator and may know a thing or two about the hardships of these jobs? Does he not suspect that although tonight is the official launch of the program that Joaquin is no stranger to telling people they’re going to die? Because he isn’t.

This may be a first for the country, but it’s not a first for Joaquin.

“I understand these conversations are difficult, even impossible,” Joaquin says. “But we have a responsibility to everyone who is paying for our crucial services.”

“It’s not like this old man was asking why his cable box wasn’t working. He had no one in his life. I couldn’t just hang up.”

Joaquin toyed around with the idea of setting automatic timers to the calls, cutting off the line after five minutes so the heralds wouldn’t be put in this position. Perhaps it’s something to revisit at the end of the first month, using the average time spent on calls to determine that magic number of minutes.

“While you’re taking time as you walk one Decker through their End Day, think of those who are dying without ever knowing their time was up,” Joaquin reminds him, knowing he has said this over and over during the training sessions leading up to tonight. But now that the heralds are connecting with real people who are really dying, the urgency behind this statement must carry more weight than ever before.

Rolando seems broken down, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

“Don’t worry about your best tonight,” Joaquin gently says. “That will come with more experience. Just see if you can improve your efforts so you can reach more people in need of your care.”

Joaquin allows Rolando to return to work, hoping he’ll make up for lost time.

If not, maybe working in a funeral home isn’t a bad idea.

Those who can’t be trusted to call people before they die are better off dealing with them when they’re dead.





Rolando Rubio


1:04 a.m.

Death-Cast did not call Rolando Rubio because he isn’t dying today, though according to his boss, it seems as if anyone who dies without knowing it’s their End Day will be Rolando’s fault. All because he spent too much time on the phone with one Decker. Pardon him for caring and for grieving a stranger.

It’s becoming clearer and clearer that Rolando isn’t cut out for this job as a Death-Cast herald. He’ll see how he feels by the end of the night, but if this doesn’t work out, he expects he’ll return to guidance counseling in public schools to help identify any child’s issue that’s resulting in their grades dropping or acting out in the classroom. Sometimes it was grief, and Rolando was always confused why a parent would neglect to inform him or the child’s teachers so they could all be mindful of any behavioral shifts. Rolando excelled at being there for the students. He created spaces for them to cry. He supervised them in the gym so they could blow off some steam. He gave them time to process their loss. That last one is not a luxury afforded to Deckers. They must simply process their own impending deaths in a single moment so the heralds can keep it moving.