Alano
4:14 p.m.
After working up an appetite in the laser tag arena where we battled with wands, we’re now finishing lunch at the park’s most
popular Scorpius Hawthorne–themed restaurant. The Inferno Inn is yet another incredibly immersive replica where every dining
table has cast-iron cauldrons to keep meals warm and the spicy foods range from low-heat to supernova-hot.
Rio has been talking a lot, especially to Agent Dane about investigations, and Paz has been on the quiet side.
“Are you okay?” I ask Paz.
He doesn’t look me in the eye. “Tired. I miss the End-ergy Drinks.”
Rio spins away from Agent Dane enthusiastically. “Me too!”
Early last year, End-ergy Drinks were manufactured and sold to Deckers needing more energy so they weren’t tired on their
End Days. The makers used so much caffeine to give Deckers their ten-hour rush that toxicology reports proved that’s why these
otherwise healthy individuals died of heart attacks. I kept begging Rio to stop drinking it for night school.
“For the sake of both your hearts, I’m glad the CDC shut it down,” I say.
“I ordered a case online but got scammed,” Rio tells Paz.
The Inferno Inn manager, Mr. Fabian, returns to our table, just as he has every few minutes to make sure we’re comfortable
ever since the host alerted him of my presence. “How are we doing over here?”
“Full,” I say. The mashed potatoes and spicy roasted broccoli that Paz and I enjoyed were exceptional by theme park dining
standards. Agent Dane was chugging water to keep up with his spicy wings while Rio ate two baked potatoes. “Everything was
delicious, Mr. Fabian.”
Mr. Fabian chuckles. “Ah. I hope you can find room for some spiced devil’s cake.” He adds, “Dessert is on the house, along
with your entire tab, Mr. Rosa. We’re all grateful for the great work Death-Cast has done.”
There’s an uneasiness because Mr. Fabian doesn’t know that I have deactivated Death-Cast for upsetting reasons. It goes to
show that no matter how much I distance myself from the duties of Death-Cast, I will forever be seen as the heir until I publicly
renounce the title.
Until that day comes I will play the part. “That’s very generous, but my parents will personally call me from Death-Cast’s
call center if they found out I accepted a free meal,” I say, recycling the same joke I’ve used for years, since it always
plays well with these well-meaning managers, as it does now.
“But we will take that dessert,” Rio says.
“No dairy for Paz and no spice for Rio,” I remind Mr. Fabian. “And the check, please.”
Paz closes his eyes, sinking deeper into his seat. I’ve been tracing backward to see if I’ve said anything upsetting. Even now I want to invite him to go home if he’s this tired, but I know from last night there’s a chance he might misread that gesture as my not wanting him around when it’s the opposite. I wonder if there’s something else he’s misreading.
“I spoke with Ariana this morning,” Rio says, cutting through the silence, slashing me by surprise like my assassin.
“Lucky you. She’s ignored all my calls, including this morning.”
“She’s hurt.”
“ She’s hurt?” I repeat, slightly mocking.
Ariana’s ability to be so dramatic is what makes her an incredible actress.
“I don’t mean to keep score, but our friendship has always been imbalanced. I was there for Ariana when she ghosted Halo.
I was there for Ariana when her father faked his End Day to make amends.” Those were tricky events to navigate, especially
pretending that Ariana was in the right when she persuaded her ex-girlfriend Halo to date her only to then ghost her two months
later. I’m vibrating in anger all over again about how her father cried Death-Cast to prove that she still loves him, as if
the company isn’t combating abuses like this. What isn’t tricky is how I have felt since the night of my assassination attempt.
“Do you know what hurts more than getting stabbed? Knowing my best friend doesn’t care whether I lived or died.”
Paz is shaking his head, like he’s as disgusted by Ariana’s antics as I am.
Agent Dane continues surveilling the restaurant, but I can see he’s tuned in too.
Rio seems frazzled, caught in the middle of this fight just as he was with his brothers. “Ariana cares about you, but she
never believed you were in real danger of dying.”
“Because I didn’t receive an alert? That’s pro-natural rhetoric right there.” I remember my decision to live pro-naturally
and how that sets me apart from the real danger. “That’s Death Guarder talk. Did she also say that the devil was keeping me
alive to be a soldier in an unholy war? That my soul has been poisoned by Death-Cast? Or the classic about how my family bargains
with Death himself to target our enemies?”
I’m suddenly concerned that Ariana might take this so personally that she joins the Death Guard movement.
“Ariana only said you must know when you’re going to die,” Rio says.
That is so unbelievably frustrating, especially since I’ve trusted Ariana with a secret I haven’t even told Rio. “I don’t
know when I’m going to die, and I’ve never known when I’m going to die, and that’s truer than ever now that I’ve deactivated
Death-Cast,” I say in a rage, keeping my voice low so no one overhears.
Rio stares. “You did what?”
In the heat of the moment, I forgot I was keeping this secret from Rio too.
“This isn’t to be repeated,” Agent Dane says, like he would make Rio disappear right now.
Rio ignores Agent Dane. “Are you serious? When did you deactivate?”
“Keep your voice low,” Agent Dane says.
I answer the question. “The night after the assassination attempt.”
“The night you both met,” Rio says, turning to Paz. “Are you pro-natural too?”
“Nope,” Paz says.
I maintain it’s not a good idea for Paz to opt out of Death-Cast’s services right now, but maybe one day.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say. There are some secrets I must keep, but I hoped to be able to let Rio in on this once
he stopped viewing Paz as a threat.
Rio leans forward, hands pressed together. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I deactivated Death-Cast too.”
It’s as if he’s shoved me over. I’m sure I heard this right because Paz’s and Agent Dane’s eyes have widened too. “You deactivated
Death-Cast? When?”
“June nineteenth,” Rio says. The fourth anniversary of his brother’s death. Over a month he’s kept this a secret. “Ever since
Lucio’s murder I’ve been wrapping my head around the good and the bad about Death-Cast. On the one hand, Death-Cast allowed
me to say goodbye to my brother. On the other, Death-Cast killed my brother.”
“H. H. Bankson killed your brother,” I say.
“Lucio only signed up for a Last Friend because Death-Cast told him he was dying.”
This is the great paradox of Death-Cast. There would be no Last Friend serial killer if there was no Last Friend app, and
there would be no Last Friend app if society wasn’t expanding cultures around people who are dying and we wouldn’t definitively
know people are dying without Death-Cast. Who’s to say that H. H. Bankson wouldn’t have still been a serial killer known for
something else, still claiming the same set of victims, including Lucio Morales? But who’s to say that all his victims wouldn’t
be alive and well?
If Death-Cast didn’t exist, then Rio could still have his brother.
If Death-Cast didn’t exist, then Ariana’s mother couldn’t have been fired.
If Death-Cast didn’t exist, then my life could’ve been innocent.
Fortunately or unfortunately, no matter your view, Death-Cast does exist. This is something I’ve wrestled with too for more
than half my life. I’ve seen firsthand the good that Death-Cast has done as well as the bad, but to pin every death on the
company would be like blaming the Wright brothers for every plane crash. I know better than to challenge Rio on his choice
knowing it was born out of grief.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“I didn’t want to defend my decision against the company you’re set to inherit. I figured you were never allowed to have another life as the heir, but look at you,” Rio says proudly. There’s almost a sparkle in his dark brown eyes. His enthusiasm reminds me of Harry Hope receiving his Death-Cast alert. They’re both free from the life they were living. “Welcome back to pro-naturalism.”
My life has always been divided in two halves, Before Death-Cast and After Death-Cast, but both pieces are fusing into something
new, where my death is a mystery once again even though it doesn’t have to be. “Does living pro-naturally feel like the right
choice?”
“I’m finally shedding anger I’ve been carrying for years. This path feels right and freeing.”
“What about Antonio? Should something happen to you, don’t you want him to know?”
“Knowing I’m going to die won’t keep me alive,” Rio says.
“It will help prepare him, as Death-Cast prepared you both for Lucio’s death.”
“It was too late for Antonio and Lucio to get close, but we’re spending more time together now that my fate is up in the air.
We’re stronger brothers today than we could ever become on an End Day.”
There’s no arguing with those results. There have been studies that show people will wait until the last minute before they
act on their personal relationships, believing they have all the time in the world until they discover they don’t. Rio is
actually living as we all should.
“I’m happy for you,” I say.
“Thanks. What about you, what made—”
“Wait,” Agent Dane says.
Mr. Fabian personally delivers spiced devil’s cakes for us and raspberry sorbets for Paz and Rio. “Are you sure we can’t comp
your bill?”
“I am, but thank you so much for the offer.” I pay with my Amex Centurion card and leave a generous tip.
“Good eye,” Rio tells Agent Dane as Mr. Fabian walks away.
“You have to learn how to watch without your eyes,” Agent Dane says. “It could keep you alive.”
It’s one thing to know the tells of my friends—Ariana’s lip biting when lying, Rio’s leaning forward when sharing unfiltered
truths, Paz’s avoidance and disassociating when hiding his feelings—but another to identify a stranger’s. Especially one who
might be a threat. How do I know if someone is sweating profusely because their body runs hot or because they’re working up
the nerve to hurt me? How am I supposed to detect deviations in someone’s speech when I’ve only just met them? I don’t know,
but I plan on ordering the appropriate literature about body language for research and having deeper conversations with Agent
Dane on this fascinating subject. Especially now that I know I don’t even have the read on my best friends like I thought
I did.
“I have to alert Shield-Cast about this development,” Agent Dane says.
“Hold on. That’s Rio’s personal business,” I say.
“Your safety is my actual business. I would have coordinated backup had I known we were spending the day with an unregistered civilian, increasing our chances to attract unpredictable danger. The force has to be alerted,” Agent Dane says. He steps away from the table while watching the patrons as if someone might run up on us with dining knives. It’s not an impossibility if we’re actually a magnet for danger.
“I don’t care who he tells,” Rio says.
I do. My father is going to be pissed. He might have friends and associates who are pro-natural, but I’m sure those relationships
are under scrutiny after my attack.
“Why did you deactivate?” Rio asks.
I don’t feel comfortable saying anything more than I’ve already said in a public space like this. Our table could be bugged.
Eavesdroppers and lip readers might be paying attention. “I needed a change,” I say.
Rio scoffs. “You have a tell for when you’re lying.”
I tense up. “What’s that?”
“You lie, and I can just tell. See? I also have a magical spy eye.”
It’s good that Rio doesn’t actually know my tell. “I’m not lying. I did need a change after the attack. I just don’t want
to talk about it out in the open.”
Rio nods, understanding. “Life shouldn’t be lived like this, . I’ve been digging deep and uncovering a lot of information to help reacclimate to the old ways and seeing what trajectory we’re on if things don’t change soon. There’s real potential for an apocalyptic threat. If one local serial killer could exploit Death-Cast, what’s going to happen when the military abuses that power? There’s going to be a world war. Does Death-Cast have enough heralds on staff for the ultimate End Day?”
This information Rio claims to have uncovered isn’t hard to find. All anyone has to do is turn on the news and watch Carson
Dunst share these same conspiracies at his rallies.
“Are you voting for Dunst?” I ask.
“I’m undecided,” Rio says.
Paz rolls his eyes. “No, you’ve definitely decided.”
“There’s a lot of time between now and November.”
“But if you had to vote today, you would vote for...”
Rio pauses and admits, “Dunst. He’s the candidate who will break the mandates on professions like law enforcement that require
employees to be registered for Death-Cast.”
“This is why you returned to night school,” I realize. “You believe Dunst will win.”
“I believe he should. Why should my dream to be a detective so I can solve crimes and make the streets safer in honor of my
brother be restricted by the company responsible for his death?” He then turns to Paz. “Hasn’t Death-Cast ruined your dreams
too?”
Paz’s leg begins bouncing under the table, and he digs his nails into his palm. I don’t know if this is self-harm, but I slip
my hand into his, stopping him from hurting himself.
“I got this,” I say.
“I want to hear what he has to say,” Rio says.
“You’re going to listen to me first. It’s one thing to deactivate Death-Cast and another to vote against it when you know it’s done wonders for millions of people.”
“It has cost lives too. How many more people have to die before we recognize that Death-Cast is a failed experiment? If we
don’t go back to the old ways we might evolve too far to ever recover.”
I’ve grown up asking my parents why people hated and feared Death-Cast so much.
“No one wants change when they like their lives as is,” my father had said.
“And those hurt by the changes wish to return to a simpler time,” my mother had said.
“A time that is forever lost,” my father said.
There is no telling someone that the death of a loved one isn’t enough of a reason to undo the world, but my heart is breaking
that Rio has fallen into these conspiracy holes. I want to reach in and pull him out. To save him.
“Can you confidently say you no longer fear death?” I ask.
“Once I’m dead, I’m dead. Nothing I can do about that, but I’m scared about losing another brother.” Rio tears up and looks
at my bandaged arm and takes my hand, locking my fingers in his. “I’m scared of losing you, .”
All at once, I’m filled with gratitude for the friends who care so deeply about my life, including both boys holding my hands,
and I’m also dreading the bomb that’s been detonated the moment Paz saw Rio touch me.