The Mall (Evenstad Media Presents Book 2) Page 6
I'm psyching myself out about this, and I know that. But I also know that what I'm saying makes a lot of sense. And it's probably the way things are going to be, too. It's already kind of happening. The first death happened in a little over a week, then less than a week. It's a small pickup, but it's a pickup. Eventually, all the people who don't want anything to do with killing will be dead themselves, me included. And that's when it's really going to get bad, I guarantee it. I guarantee it to anyone who happens to read this journal, if anyone. And I guarantee it to myself.
This is the calm part.
ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad
FROM: Edward Andel
SUBJECT: Possible Ratings Increase: The Mall
SENT: 1/15/2075 AT 1:28 p.m. EST
Mr. Evenstad.
I've caught wind of some viewers who are less than pleased with the way the show is going this time around. They say it’s slow, compared to last season. On paper, of course, that doesn't really make sense. The second season is currently projected to finish in about three months, which is half the time that the first season was on air. Not that I need to tell you the numbers, of course. I just wanted to preface what I have to say with that.
I think it would be worthwhile, in order to keep the viewers happy, to consider raising the stakes of the competition. It would be relatively simple to do without disturbing gameplay. Turning off the power to the arena comes immediately to mind, as does turning off the water. Or both in conjunction, if necessary.
I realize that wasn't in the original plan for this season, but it seems to me that, if we have the power to provide a better experience for the viewers, we should think about using that power, at the very least.
I shouldn’t say we. I have no say, but I think you should consider it. The final decision would rest with you and the other board members. I just thought I would propose the idea, if nothing else.
—
TO: Edward Andel
FROM: Niels Evenstad
SUBJECT: Possible Ratings Increase: The Mall
SENT 1/17/2075 AT 3:14 p.m. EST
Edward,
I apologize for my tardiness in replying to this email. I've been very busy of late and only just found time to check my email.
Everyone is aware of the views you've expressed concern over. However, the viewership of this show is half again as large as the first season. We may lose some people who think the show is moving too slowly this time around, but obviously not enough to damage the numbers we're seeing from it. I wish we could keep every viewer satisfied, but that's unfortunately impossible. That being said, your idea to deny the players power and/or water is something we've considered. If it came down to it, we've already decided it would be an option. But I like that you thought of it. However, I'd prefer if you gave your full focus to the Live and Breathe update for the time being. I hear it's coming along nicely, so it's in need of a leader now more than ever before.
As usual, my intent is not to shoot you down, but we have quite a bit to do in a very short amount of time. I’m sure you understand.
Niels Evenstad,
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
TO: Niels Evenstad
FROM: Frederick Evenstad
SUBJECT: Concerned
SENT 1/17/2075 AT 10: 13 a.m. EST
Brother, I'm worried about you. You've been unreachable for the past two days, nearly three days. I did my best to convince myself that it was nothing, and that you needed your privacy or needed some space to relax. If that's all it is, then I'm sorry. But in as long as we've been brothers, I've never had this much difficulty touching base with you, and it's very disconcerting to me. I feel like there's something going on that you don't feel like you can tell me, or anyone else. But I promise you, you can tell me anything you need to, no matter what it is.
I hope you are well, Brother.
Frederick Evenstad
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Technologies
—
TO: Frederick Evenstad
FROM: Niels Evenstad
SUBJECT: Concerned
SENT 1/17/2075 AT 4:02 p.m. EST
I'm sorry for any worry I may have caused you, Brother. I was forcing myself to take some time away from the desk. I should have been more responsive, but I wanted a few days to just decompress. Really, I'm fine. I do appreciate your concern. It means a lot to me that you care enough to worry. Not everyone in this world is lucky enough to have someone like that in their lives. But your concerns are unfounded, I'm happy to say. I'm not keeping anything from you. I wouldn't do that, especially with you being so insistent on knowing. I'll be back to my normal self once this season is over, I assure you. It's just proving to be much more work than the first one.
I am well, Brother.
Niels Evenstad,
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 01MARCUS
ENTRY 004
DATE: 1/18/2075
It's been fairly quiet lately, but things are finally starting to pick up, at least a little bit. It’s unfortunate, because I don't want any more blood spilled. However, I think I'll finally have my distraction. At least enough of one to go take care of that poor man’s body. The old lady down at the end is a lot more active, keeps stepping out, throwing things around. Farther each time. The guys with the guns keep turning their attention over to her, but she doesn't stop. Every now and then, they actually shoot something she throws out, which is insane in its own right.
The only thing I can figure is that she's testing her boundaries. Although I suppose she could just be completely losing her mind in here. But both of those are likely to lead to her leaving the safety of her clothing shop. And as soon as she does that, I'm out and running to get that man put away.
This is a stupid obsession. I know that. But I can't get over it. I'm probably losing it as much as anyone else, deciding to go out and pull that corpse out of sight, risking my life for some dead stranger. But I'm already committed, and I haven't managed to talk myself out of it, yet.
And I've tried.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06TESS
ENTRY 004
DATE: 1/18/2075
I feel like I’m in a warzone. I’ve never been in one, but I imagine it has to sound something an awful lot like this. Guns going off and people yelling and things breaking. I’m trying to just cover my head and get through it all without looking, but I don’t know. Sometimes I think what I‘m imagining is probably worse than what’s actually happening. I’m too scared to find out though. Instead, I’ve got some dresses and such wadded up to try to block out some of the noise. If I press it all hard enough against my ears it almost works, but not quite.
But you know, worse than the loud sounds and the guns and anything else I’m hearing, it’s when things are just dead quiet. I can only think so much when I hear screaming and all that, but when I don’t hear anything I can come up with much worse. Terrible things I didn’t know I was capable of until I came in here.
That’s why I decided to write. The gunfire just died off, and that’s when it’s the worst of all, because you know for sure something happened. It’s just a question of what.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 04DANA
ENTRY 004
DATE: 1/18/2075
I made it. I made it across, and these are my last words. I thought I had things figured out. The guards only shoot things in certain areas, and I thought I’d gotten them mapped out pretty well. I don’t know if I got them wrong or if I just misstepped, but when I ran, they hit me. And every time they hit me, I slowed down more, got farther off my path, and they got more bullets. But damn it, I made it across. Everyone thinks I'm too old, and I'm too weak. Too weak, I can give them. That’s why I ran in the first plac
e. I was too weak to carry on by myself. But not too old. In the end, it wasn't my age that got me. I died in a hail of gunfire.
I'm glad it wasn’t a quick death. I'm glad I'm getting some time to record my final thoughts, even if they'll never be read by anyone. I'm not glad for the pain, but I'm glad for everything else. If they'd shot me straight dead, I'd never have done what I set out to do. It wasn't a big goal, but it was my last one. I made it. I wanted to make it alive, stay with this nice man until the end came. So I guess, in a way, I got that, even though it was far too short. He took me into his shop. He tried to stop the bleeding, but it's not doing anything at all, so far as I can tell.
I'm determined to take this gracefully. Otherwise I'd be crying, and I wouldn't be able to write this if I was crying. Although I can barely see to type as it is. So I guess it's not much longer for me. But the world will know that I died with my own self intact. And that's impor
This is not the woman who started this journal. Not Dana, as the tablet says her name is. I tried to save her, but she was too badly injured, and I was not prepared to tend to her. She couldn't finish her journal, and I only write this here to let anyone who may, one day, stumble across this, know that she died. She was strong. She must have been to make it this far and still insist on leaving her final words. Her death is a tragedy for humanity.
ENTRY END
09
JOURNAL 01MARCUS
ENTRY 005
DATE: 1/18/2075
I made it, but I still ended up shot. The old lady got away faster than I figured, which gave the guards time to turn around and hit me in the leg. In the harsh reality of it, though, I won’t complain much. It could have been a lot worse, and I'm well aware of that. And I picked a good place to escape into, if I was going to get hurt. The pet shop had a few bottles of antibacterial kind of stuff. I don't know for sure that I'm supposed to use it, since it's meant for dogs, but it seemed like risking it was better than gangrene.
The guy's body was pretty stiff and heavy, but I managed to get it into one of the empty pens they have in here and covered him up with wood chips and sawdust. It's the closest thing to a proper burial I could provide for him. That and a makeshift prayer, although I knew no Bible verses to recite, or if he was even Christian. I hope it was enough.
I need to give my leg time to heal up a bit before I go back out and try for that poor woman. Limping like I am, I'll get shot at for sure. And I don't think it’ll just be my leg, again.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 12IMRAN
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/18/2075
Life is short as it is, and this place shortens it that much more. Dana was an old woman, yes, but she would very possibly have had several more years in front of her if she hadn't been gunned down in this mall. It puts things into perspective for me. There are so many important things in life, more important than anything. Family comes to mind. My son… things seem so different to me, now that I face my own imminent death. But I fear that it is too late to do much of anything in regards to Kadar or our relationship. If by some miracle I make it out of here as the last survivor, I suppose these revelations will prove useful. But I don't see that as a likely outcome.
I've done what I could to give Dana some respect. It's not much, but I closed her eyes, and I draped her over with the kites from the toy store, and I surrounded her with fake flowers. Gaudy, for a death shroud, but I try not to see it that way. I try to see it as bright and happy, to see it as a hope that whatever of her may remain is jubilant, somewhere. In the end, if there’s something that remains of my own being, I hope for that same sort of joy.
ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad
FROM: Frederick Evenstad
SUBJECT: The Mall Security
SENT 1/19/2075 AT 1:06 p.m. EST
Brother,
You won't have to worry about me pestering you for the truth about what's happening, anymore. You don't want to share it and that's your decision, as much as I don't agree with it. As much as you claim to be about the family, yet stand there and hide your secrets. That's fine. I'm dropping it, because I can't expend the energy anymore.
The guards could be used more efficiently than they are at current. Having those units on the roof are stretching the numbers very thin. We don't need nearly as many as are currently up there. The door to the roof was welded shut. A few units on the edges, in case of a breakout, yes, but the center of the roof doesn't need to be guarded. They would be much better used in the back room, I think. It’s unlikely, but a contestant could still get there, and that would be far more power than any one of them should have.
I hope you'll at least consider what I've said. If this carries on long enough, someone will figure out how to fight against the guards, and we run the risk of running short when they do. Then someone is bound to breach security. If they escape, this endeavor would be entirely fruitless.
Frederick Evenstad,
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Technologies
—
TO: Frederick Evenstad
FROM: Niels Evenstad
SUBJECT: The Mall Security
SENT: 1/19/2075 AT 1:08 p.m. EST
I very specifically wanted to leave the back open for infiltration. If a contestant is skilled and brave, why should I not reward them? In the future, don’t question my intelligence in such a manner.
Niels Evenstad,
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 08QUINN
ENTRY 005
DATE: 1/20/2075
For the time being, I've decided to stay here in the shop. At least until shit cools down, or until an opportunity presents itself that I can't pass up. There's way too much activity right now. People running around, gunfire everywhere. I don't know if they're stupid or just desperate. They both lead to the same results.
The only time I ever leave is after the lights go off. If I keep to the spots I know are safe, I don’t get shot at. Simple as that. Probably some part of the game. It would be pretty uninteresting if we all got killed for trying to move and actually play. And then the ratings would most likely drop way too low. I'm not complaining. I have things I need to do. And things I want to do.
I have to leave tonight. I want to leave another care package by the clothes shop downstairs. I don't know who they are, but they obviously don't want anything to do with this crap. Not that I do, but I know I can handle it, since I have to. I don't want anyone else to suffer unnecessarily. Not anymore than we already have to, being locked up in this place. Plus helping out like that makes me feel a little better. I know I have to do some bad things in here, and probably some worse things I haven't even thought of yet. Helping out like this… it doesn't counteract the bad things, really. But it certainly makes me feel like I'm not completely heartless. It keeps me in mind of my basic humanity. Which is good, since I don't want to lose that just to survive. But it also makes it harder and harder to do the things I really need to do, too. Killing people isn't something good people do. It's kind of a fact we all accept. It's part of why I haven't attacked the guards by that one door, yet.
That and I keep waiting for them to change out. I'm sure there's a shift change of some kind, somewhere along the way. That would be the time to try for it. But I've watched at all hours and I haven’t seen a thing. It's not possible at all, but it seems like the same guards are there no matter what. It's insane, because people need sleep. I don’t know. Maybe I somehow keep missing it. But… there's something very strange, there. I just can't put my finger on it, yet.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 09YESENIA
ENTRY 004
DATE: 1/21/2075
I'm here. It's empty, which means it's safe. The guys that come in here looking for people aren't looking very hard. They don't even peek behind the counter. Otherwise, I'd have been shot by now, I would assume. They
probably don't get paid enough to do their jobs properly. Or maybe they'd just rather not kill. I'd like to believe that, that they don't want any part of this but a paycheck to feed themselves and their families. But if that was really true, they wouldn't have taken this job in the first place, in my opinion. They could have cashiered or flipped burgers and gotten a paycheck, too.
It doesn't matter. For now, I'm safe. I don't have much in the way of food. Everything in this place is high sodium, high fat, and high sugar. It'll keep me going, but I'll start feeling the sluggishness and dehydration pretty soon. I’m surprised I’ve kept it off this long, to be honest. The stuff at the food court probably isn't much healthier, but really anything’s better than living on candy bars and beef jerky from the impulse buys.
Not that I regret leaving the housewares shop. There wasn't any food there, so I was forced to go into the food court a couple times to resupply. Too close to getting killed for my tastes and that hall is so cramped. Everyone can very clearly see you moving. Mitchell's is open, at least. This is a good place to be, a good place to wait out the rest of this game, if necessary. And if, for whatever reason, the guys with the guns start working harder and trying to weed people out, I know how to kill someone. I have no desire to do it, but it’s part of the bargain when you learn about nursing. You can save people, but the same knowledge is just a twist away from lessons on how to murder. I'm thinking I might have to make that twist. And soon.