Days' End by Scott L Collins Read Free Book Online Page B

Los Angeles. Beautiful place, really.”
    Jacqueline smirked.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again,” Nysa said as the elevator came to a stop. She turned to Jacqueline and smiled. Grabbing and shaking her hand once more, Nysa asked, “Since we live right down the hall from one another, what do you say we grab some breakfast tomorrow? Six-thirty work for you?”
    Jacqueline gave a shy smile and nodded.
    “Great,” Nysa exclaimed. “See you tomorrow morning then.” She stepped out into the banquet hall.
    Nysa did a quick scan of the room and, as expected, recognized only Dr. Leyden standing close by, leaning against the wall, avoiding the crowds. He nodded in her direction, acknowledging her, and continued brooding. Small groups had formed around the room as doctors and lab assistants who knew one another, whether personally or by reputation, met up or introduced themselves. A bar was set up across from the elevator, the dining area and lounge opening up to her left.
    Jacqueline brushed past her and headed straight to the bar. Nysa wandered through the room. Each of the places at the tables had a small card with a name. She searched the room until she found her seat. She then meandered to the bar where a small line had formed. She made small talk with a lab technician from Arizona. She finally arrived at the front of the line and politely ordered a vodka and cranberry.
    “Very good,” the bartender replied dryly, grabbing the necessary bottles.
    Nysa had the distinct impression that the bartender was having a rough evening having to deal with the enormous egos of some of the world’s best doctors. She dug into her purse and dropped a ten on the bar. Not a life-changing amount by any means, but certainly a gesture of appreciation. The bartender gave her a warm smile and thanked her.
    Mr. Stevens entered the room and proceed to a podium placed on the small stage at the back of the room. Dressed in a black, three-piece, pin-striped suit, Nysa could see the shine on his shoes from where she stood. He stood, confident and still, waiting for the conversations to die down. When the last person fell silent, Mr. Stevens began.
    “Welcome, everyone, to Mr. Scario’s private laboratories. Each of you was selected for very specific reasons—some for being a leader in your field, some to do the legwork, some for other miscellaneous tasks.” Mr. Stevens strode to the front of the stage and gazed at the audience. “You all have one thing in common: you are exemplary workers. Mr. Scario expects nothing less.” Quick glances were exchanged among those nearest him. Mr. Stevens continued. “When you retire to your rooms this evening, you will find a letter advising you of the location of your work area. Your room key will also access the appropriate floor of your laboratory. Tomorrow at 8:00 A.M. please be there for a tour of your work area and to request any additional equipment that you may need. The specifics of your task will be given to you when you arrive at your laboratory. I’m sorry I don’t have any time to answer questions this evening. I’ll be available tomorrow to answer what I can. Thank you for your time and enjoy your evening.”
    He left the stage and exited out the door through which he had entered.
    The Great Mortality continues its destruction. I have taken to plundering the homes of the dead as it’s easily done. Nobody else will go inside so I can take what I want without consequences. I fear I have become the man everyone believed me to be. Although I know my actions are wrong, I no longer care. What punishment can be worse than this curse I continue to live with? Is there no end?

January 31, 7:55 AM
     
    Nysa’s main lab was on Level B-6, Room 1. The room was enormous, but situated in such a way that minimized the amount of walking that would be necessary going back and forth between machines and desks. She didn’t expect to need any additional equipment,