Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The System
Book 2 in the Virulent Trilogy
Shelbi Wescott
Copyright © 2013 Shelbi Wescott
All rights reserved.
Always for Matthew, Elliott, Ike:
Thank you for allowing me the luxury of time.
I love you.
Prologue
4 years before The Release
Scott King emerged from a taxicab on the corner of Fourth and Main, looked up at the silver building in front of him, and took a deep breath. Dressed in a brand-new suit, complete with a blue and green paisley tie handpicked by his wife Maxine, and holding an old leather briefcase, he hoped that he appeared professional and put together. He needed his outfit to scream Hireable Disease Specialist. His typical laboratory wear included twenty-year old blue jeans and an Oregon Ducks t-shirt underneath his white lab coat, so the suit was a new addition to his wardrobe. And it wasn’t an entirely welcome one—the fabric clung to his legs as he walked and the jacket felt tight against his back.
The city bustled around him, people on cell phones, horns honking, the click and thump of feet on pavement. Scott examined himself for a long moment in the front window of the building before inserting himself into the fray vying for a place in the revolving door. Then he checked in with the doorman per the instructions on the cryptic letter he received only a few short weeks before, and waited for his escort to arrive.
“Scott King?” a woman’s voice called behind him and Scott turned to her, smiled. Then, shifting the briefcase over to his left hand, he shoved out his right, and shook her hand with a firm grip, which she reciprocated. Her hand was warm and firm, and Scott resisted the urge to reach into his suit pocket and spread a thin layer of hand sanitizer over his skin.
“Yes,” he replied, his voice higher and lacking the self-assurance he had practiced. He prayed that he wouldn’t say anything embarrassing or make a joke or enter into a rambling non sequitur about air travel. The woman in front of him was younger than he had expected—early to mid-twenties, an intern maybe, but she had a confident air that belied her youth.
“I’m Blair, Huck Truman’s office assistant and,” she paused for dramatic effect, “his adoring daughter as well. I’ll be getting you prepped for your interview with him today. You look nervous, Scott. Don’t be nervous.”
He opened his mouth to respond and then clamped it shut, answering only with a tight-lipped smile.
“This is all just a preliminary interview,” Blair said and she leaned over and stuck a key into a box at the side of an elevator and the doors slid open. Scott waited for her to enter first and he couldn’t help but notice her long tan legs and the fit of her skirt as she walked in front of him. He looked to the ceiling and held his briefcase tighter. She entered a second key and then pushed a button for the top floor. The doors shut and the elevator purred as they rose.
Blair looked every bit the part of a young professional. Her hair was perfectly colored, her nails manicured in shellac; her pointy crocodile leather shoes looked more expensive than anything Scott’s wife would have purchased—including Maxine’s wedding dress. In addition to her flawlessness, Blair seemed talented at small talk; even her smile, as she encouraged Scott to share the banal details of his trip, seemed genuine.
“My father, or Mr. Truman, as I’m supposed to say, has been gushing about you, Scott. May I call you Scott?”
He said it was fine.
Blair continued, “Your résumé is impressive.”
“Thank you,” he replied and watched the numbers as they climbed higher and higher. Floor 20. Floor 21. Floor 22. A steady ascent. “Ms. Truman—”
“Blair. You can just call me Blair. Please. ”
He could hardly bring himself to say it. “If you think you wouldn’t mind…I did have some questions before my interview.”
“Of course. I’d be happy to answer any questions I can, but you should know that I really am only an administrative assistant for my father and brother.”
“Yes, I see.” Scott’s head felt heavy and he yawned a bit to pop his ears. “Usually I do a bit of research into a company before I interview, but it seems like the Elektos Corporation doesn’t exist in the digital world, which, as you can imagine, is a bit odd for a giant company in the twenty-first century. Cryptic letters asking to see me? Money to fly me out here, put me up in a five star hotel, and no one has heard of you. So, I suppose I should ask, is your dad a superhero? Am I about to meet Batman?”
Blair gave him a polite smile and blinked vapidly, but she narrowed her eyes a bit, assessing him, and didn’t answer. Scott’s hands grew sweaty and he snickered and then waved away his joke with his free hand.
“I kid, clearly. You’d be taking me underground to the bat cave. Spiderman, maybe, then, right? No. I’m sorry. It’s hard to conceptualize a company I wasn’t able to research. Research is my job. And I am interested in what this company does…I feel like I should be armed with that knowledge, at the very least.”
“Sustainable, renewable energy,” Blair answered with a perfunctory head nod.
“Oh.” Scott was confused. “That’s not really my area of expertise.”
“We’re here,” Blair said as the doors opened up to the lobby of a sterile and blindingly bright lobby. White couches had been staged in a rectangle and potted plants sprouted by their sides; a waterfall wall trickled and dripped behind a stainless steel reception desk where a thin redhead broke into a bright, rehearsed smile at their arrival. Since the building was so tall, Scott couldn’t really see the city below, only the tops of the other buildings nearby and a vast, open blue sky.