Page 53

5:15 p.m.

Death-Cast did not call because he is not dying today, but he fears the Death Guard may soon bring that alert

into his life. Or worse, his wife’s and son’s. Well, his son has frustratingly chosen to opt out of the service, but the threat

of death lives on regardless.

Joaquin is currently speaking on the matter with the president of the United States.

“It is not that simple,” President Page says over the phone’s secure line. “Alano’s assailant was seeking revenge because

of the first End Day. There is no proof that he has any connection to Dunst.”

“Would you still need proof if someone attacked Andrew, Mr. President?” Joaquin asks, making it personal. Let President Page

imagine someone slashing and stabbing his son. “The answer is no because you are smart enough to know that there is no such

thing as a random act of violence when it comes to the president or their family, no such thing as coincidence when you have

enemies who hate what you stand for. Investigate the matter all you want, but you will not find any checks signed by Dunst

or any promises for favors apart from the world he will restore for his pro-natural zealots.”

A world where President Page is no longer in power.

A world where Death-Cast no longer exists.

A world where no one knows when they will die.

As President Page reiterates his campaign strategy—it is rude to interrupt people, but especially the president—Joaquin paces

his home office, a large but simple room in the mansion. An oak desk and leather chair sit in front of a bookcase where one

tug of volume 10 in his encyclopedia collection will open up to a decoy panic room designed to trap any intruders who get

past Shield-Cast’s defenses. A threat that feels likely more than ever, disturbingly, but that is why a formidable panic room

exists elsewhere in the mansion.

The bar cart by the window tempts Joaquin with his favorite whiskeys and tequilas, none of which have been dumped or donated,

seeing as he hasn’t been in the house since going sober on his fiftieth birthday. One shot of Clase Azul and Joaquin would

feel better, just one shot. That never made anyone black out. He grabs the bottle to pour his shot, but before that first

drop can fall, he’s drawn to Naya sunbathing by the pool per Joaquin’s request to let him stress and her relax instead of

them suffering together about Alano’s well-being. The sun may not be as delicious as tequila, but Joaquin is inspired to choose

the heat on his skin instead of the burn down his throat. Maybe he’ll even remain outside long enough to watch the sunset

with Naya, something they used to do regularly at their penthouse before life got too busy.

“Believe me when I say Death-Cast is a valuable asset to our country,” President Page says, concluding his long-winded speech where his voice spiked with that authoritative inflection, as if he were standing before a rally of voters instead of speaking with the individual who knows more than anyone Death-Cast’s value.

“I am aware,” Joaquin states.

“As you are about your company’s shortcomings too,” President Page says.

These bottles of whiskey and tequila may soon be undrinkable if Joaquin hurls them all across the room in anger. “Meaning?”

“The empire you have built is impressive, but it is not one everyone wishes to live in.”

“The same can be said for the nation you are overseeing.”

This isn’t the first heated exchange between creator and president over the years, but Joaquin recognizes it is the most personal.

“Precisely, Joaquin. World leaders cannot create a utopia, no matter how much we devote ourselves to producing one for society.

My intentions with this country are pure, just as yours are with your company. This doesn’t negate our failures in shaping

this new world. There are Americans and Deckers who are disappointed in our leadership, respectively. The difference is my

supporters are alive to tell me I failed them.”

Joaquin eyes the whiskey, desperate for a drink.

It has been impossible to live a life profiting off death without feeling haunted.

He’s written about this in his memoir, Life and Death-Cast , which publishes on August 4, four days after the company’s tenth anniversary. There’s a strict embargo because of the many secrets his publisher has been teasing to stir up more interest. Joaquin is under no illusions that the secret readers are most hoping to discover is the method in which Death-Cast can predict a Decker’s fate. The publisher begged for this book to be not only a moving celebration of End Days but the ultimate tell-all of the world’s greatest secret and the man who created it. Joaquin read between the lines: skyrocketing sales if he shared with the public this secret that he hasn’t even shared with his own son. He’d discussed the possibility with Naya, who has known the secret since she was pregnant with Alano, but she didn’t let Joaquin give in to the pressure.

“Once that door opens, it can never be closed,” Naya reminded Joaquin.

There are many doors Joaquin won’t open for his readers, but he will do so for President Page right now. “You’re wrong, Mr.

President. The dead talk to me. They have since the beginning.”

For almost ten years, has been haunted by ghosts. He’s tormented by the Deckers who were failed by Death-Cast, especially the Death’s Dozen. Doctors believe these apparitions are nothing more than psychological disturbances brought on by the pressure and trauma of Joaquin’s work, but no matter their reality, Joaquin sees these ghosts, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they were exactly that, given everything else he’s laid his eyes on that others have not. He has tried treating this disorder through therapy, psychiatry, counseling, and even an exorcism, and while those sessions helped with his depression—the exorcism gave him a nice laugh—the ghosts continue haunting Joaquin in his sleep and waking hours. Drinking was the most effective treatment. Now he’s trying his hand at journaling, finding that, much like writing his memoir, there is this release that comes with putting words down on a page, but unlike the book, he will not be publishing these particular entries for the world. In fact, he burns them at the end of every session, never to be discovered by anyone, not even Naya and especially not Alano. One man’s ghosts shouldn’t become another’s.

President Page doesn’t take Joaquin literally. “I hope your ghosts can’t vote because internal polling predicts a tight election

given the recent surge in the pro-natural movement. It’s important we don’t outright condemn Dunst for his beliefs or we risk

upsetting pro-naturalists who aren’t overly concerned with Death-Cast and are otherwise happy to vote the party line.”

A politician’s ability to avoid accountability has always impressed—and disturbed—Joaquin. That trait is not in his nature. After the first End Day, Joaquin took the time to personally meet with the loved ones affected by Death-Cast’s failure to predict a Decker’s fate so he could apologize—or he tried to, at least, his presence rejected by three out of the twelve families. As hard as those nine meetings were, Joaquin endured because it was the right thing to do; he even hoped the man in Texas who put a gun to Joaquin’s head ultimately found some healing in watching Joaquin beg for his life on a day that could’ve easily become his own unpredicted End Day like the man’s young daughter.

“Focus on converting Dunst’s supporters,” Joaquin says. “Expose him for the crook he is.”

“The unfortunate reality is that we could catch Dunst red-handed and his staunch supporters will still vote for him simply

because he is anti-Death-Cast.”

This system is broken when a man can commit a crime and still qualify for the presidency.

If Joaquin wants the world to evolve into a utopia, he may very well have to run for president himself to fix the system,

just as he rebuilt the life-and-death experience.

Joaquin is no stranger to the responsibilities, having worked closely with President Reynolds on many matters, most famously

ensuring workers in certain industries were mandated to be registered for Death-Cast for the safety of all. This ranged from

pilots to city bus drivers, police to firefighters, stuntpeople to bodyguards, and every government official. Death-Cast predicted

President Reynolds’s End Day, but what no one saw coming was his Secret Service agent assassinating him because of his resentment

for being forced to sign up for Death-Cast to make his living. This is why President Reynolds became one of Joaquin’s ghosts.

That assassination set the stage for this year’s election.

After President Reynolds was killed, his vice president was elevated to president, while the speaker of the house became the new vice president: Andy Page and Carson Dunst, respectively. Joaquin witnessed that pairing fracture firsthand as Dunst sought to undo the laws set by Reynolds. It was no surprise when Page parted ways with Dunst at the end of their term. With the help of his new running mate, Clea Paquin, Page secured his first official term as president, and together, they’re seeking reelection for his last. All President Page has to do is beat his former vice president.

If Dunst wins the election, Joaquin will run against him in four years.

There’s a knock at the door and Joaquin opens it to find Alano standing there. They have much to discuss, but he holds up

a finger to wait before closing the door in his son’s face.

“I hope I haven’t lost your confidence,” President Page says.

“You will have my vote this fall,” Joaquin says.

“Enthusiastically?”

Joaquin is quiet, long enough that he’s sure he’s making the president sweat. “No candidate is ever everything we need them

to be,” he finally says. “If I must choose between the man sending assassins after my son or the man doing very little to

stop it, then I will vote for the lesser evil, but make no mistake that any man showing lack of regard for my son’s life is

evil in my eyes.”

Then hangs up on the president of the United States.

Later, Joaquin will seek guidance from Naya on how best to navigate his frustrations and disappointment, knowing he cannot retract his support for President Page without tipping the edge in Dunst’s favor, but for now, he takes a deep breath and calls Alano into his office.

“How was your unexpected reunion?” Joaquin asks.

“Really good,” Alano says, taking a seat.

“Did you tell Rio about your secret?”

“No.”

That’s a relief.

“How’d the call go?” Alano asks.

“Fine.” Joaquin doesn’t want his son knowing that he isn’t important to the president. “Private matters about the company.”

“Is this your way of telling me I’m fired?”

“Are you even fireable? I was under the impression that your life outside of Death-Cast meant more than opting out of the

service.”

“I haven’t officially decided, but feel free to add me to your list of terminations.”

Joaquin hates how Alano speaks of him as if he is the grim reaper who delights in claiming the lives of every soul on his

scroll. “None of this brings me any joy.”

“How fast you are to fire people this week says otherwise.”

“I fire them because I am furious!” Joaquin barks.

He hates yelling at Alano. He hates how his anger got the best of him at the end of lunch when he slammed his fist on the

table. He hates everyone who has or could have a role in endangering his son.

“If I could fire Death for coming to claim you one day, I would put him out of business and watch the universe implode.”

“Even you’re not that powerful,” Alano says.

“Even I am not,” Joaquin reinforces, hating the truth of it. “All that said, Dane’s termination is for your benefit.”

“You’re not giving him credit for the times he has protected me.”

“Maybe if you had not rebelled against your common senses then he would have been positioned to prove his worth when it mattered

most.”

Alano sighs. “I agree. That was my fault. He shouldn’t be punished. I’d like for Dane to be reinstated as my bodyguard.”

Joaquin rocks back in his leather chair. “Why would I agree to that?”

“You’re right that I can’t roam around without protection. I’ll die before I can find the life I want. The only way I’ll accept

security detail is if it’s Dane. I can either keep you and Shield-Cast in the loop, or I can pay his salary out of my pocket

and you won’t know when I’m coming and going or who is part of my life.”

This negotiation is another moment of pride, Joaquin must admit. It shows that Alano does have some sense left in him. “I

will consider this proposition,” he says, wanting to be clear on the terms first, the top one being that should Agent Madden

fail to protect Alano again that he will not be given any more chances. But Agent Madden’s detail will never be the ultimate

assurance. “Will you consider opting back into Death-Cast?”

“No,” Alano says.

“No?”

“Not right now, at least. If I’m truly going to experience what my life looks like outside of Death-Cast, that means not living

under its peace of mind. I meant what I said before, though. I’m never going public with this information, but I reserve the

right to tell the people closest to me.”

“The more you speak of this, the higher the risk that this news will spread to the media and the Death Guard, wait and see.”

“My friends don’t want me dead,” Alano snaps. “They’re not going to say anything.”

Joaquin’s trust issues run deep, the cause of much reflection on whether he is overly cautious or severely paranoid, but regardless,

both paths lead to the same core thought: never fully trust anyone except his wife and son. The caution—or paranoia—has only

grown stronger as of late, even bleeding into whether Naya and Alano are to be fully trusted, but especially Alano.

How is Joaquin to share the extraordinary and life-changing secret behind Death-Cast’s power with Alano when they are at odds

over things so ordinary and life-threatening?

Perhaps he may never need to.

“Tell me something, mi hijo. Do you still foresee yourself inheriting Death-Cast?”

Alano sits with this long enough that his tone changes, going from snapping and defensive to soft and thoughtful. “I honestly don’t know, Pa. I have other desires, but I question if anything I do will ever be more important than what Death-Cast does for the world. Almost as if I should sacrifice all my needs. Professional, personal, even romantic.”

Joaquin wishes he could relax too as his son’s rising flames are fanning out, but this talk of romance only ignites bigger

concerns. Earlier, Naya spoke with Joaquin about how Alano’s mystery boy was none other than Paz Dario. With that came the

warning to not express the very concerns burning through him now about how his son’s life may be threatened by this boy whose

impulses have led to death before and may lead to death again. Joaquin has already ordered Shield-Cast to perform a background

check, but the biggest red flag they have returned with so far has been Paz Dario’s patricide of that horrible domestic abuser

and murderer, which anyone with Google or a Piction+ subscription can find out.

“Are these romantic feelings about the Dario boy?” Joaquin asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Naya said you intend to see him tonight, but I do not believe this is wise,” he says, hoping his son will see reason.

Of course Alano does not. “Your whole business is built on carpe diem, memento mori, all of that, but I guess that’s only

for people buying into your services.”

“You have never paid a cent toward Death-Cast,” Joaquin reminds because Alano has a lifetime membership— had .

“I’m not talking about money. I mean belief.”

Failure to make his own son believe in the mission sits heavy in Joaquin’s throat and he wishes to wash it down with some whiskey. “It is a tragedy that you do not believe in Death-Cast, but nearly three billion people welcome our reminders to live before they die. However, my job as your father is to keep you alive for as long as possible.”

“How about happy, Pa? Is that part of your job as my father?”

“Of course it is,” Joaquin says earnestly. “But I would rather you be alive and angry at me than happy and dead.”

Joaquin has long considered the risks of overparenting, especially when observing how much Alano already gravitates toward

Naya for personal conversations—such as his coming out, which Joaquin welcomed fully when told, and now this matter of Paz

Dario—but all Joaquin can think about is how much darker this dark world will be if his son is dead. If one day Alano were

to stop speaking with Joaquin and carved out a life where he was happy with his partner and children, then Joaquin will have

done his job right. A job Alano will then intimately understand himself and perhaps let Joaquin back into his life.

Alano looks as if he might cry, something that has always broken Joaquin’s heart, but also enlightened him on how much Alano

feels, going so far as to teach him that crying could be perceived as a weakness that is weaponized against him. “Why are

you keeping me away from someone who needs a friend?” he asks.

A thought—a fear—strikes Joaquin over why Alano is so connected to this stranger. “Do you have a death wish?” Joaquin watches his son closely, knowing Alano’s tell for when he lies. It hasn’t changed since he was a child lying about childish things, such as Bucky eating all the snickerdoodle cookies, or blaming the expensive vase he broke on the maid. He is fixed on Alano, who remains still as he stares back at Joaquin.

“I don’t have a death wish,” Alano answers honestly. “Why?”

“Then why are you insisting on putting yourself in danger? Why are you not living for your preservation as I am?”

“I don’t find my life valuable and worth protecting. If today was my End Day, I would die unfulfilled—and it would be your

fault.”

There’s one impulse to fight back, another to down a bottle of whiskey, but he absorbs the weight of what his son has said:

if he died today, he would not die happy. Joaquin will have failed as a father.

Everyone wants something to live for, there is not a soul that does not; even those who wish to kill themselves would stay

alive for the right reasons.

Joaquin must know what will get Alano’s heart pumping.

“Tell me, mi hijo. What does your dream End Day look like?”

It’s been a while since Joaquin has asked Alano this question, the last time during his seventeenth or eighteenth birthday,

if memory serves him right, and while Joaquin’s own vision of his dream End Day has not changed since Death-Cast began, that

does not mean his son wouldn’t grow up to want more.

“I want a life worth remembering.” Alano’s eyes light up like he’s picturing his End Day now. “I don’t want my highlights to be all the cool things I did. I would trade skydiving anywhere in the world in a heartbeat for a walk in the park with my soulmate. I want to grow up and grow old with someone who will hold my hand as I die on my End Day.”

Like father, like son.

Joaquin’s dream End Day is simple, where everything has already been said and everything has already been lived. There is

no need for the World Travel Arena or Make-A-Moment or Present-Time. No need for the Last Friend app because Joaquin will

be on his deathbed, holding the hands of the two people he loves more than life itself.

Alano wants a love like that too. A love that no business can sell.

Joaquin senses he should hug his son, but he is unsure that Alano would be willing to embrace him. But they can continue speaking.

“Let’s discuss how best we can keep you alive so you can have a life worth remembering.”

will do anything to ensure his son does not become a ghost who haunts him.