by RWK Clark
Permanent
Ink
Deadwalkers
by
R.W.K. Clark
Copyright © 2015, 2016 R.W.K. Clark
All rights reserved, www.rwkc.us
This is work of fiction, all names, characters, locales, and incidents are product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual people places or events is coincidental or fictionalized.
Published in the United States by Clarkinc.
Printed and distributed by
Amazon Digital Services LLC
Edition 1 Last Updated 1-12-2017
United States Copyright Office
#1-4293108252
International Standard Book Numbers
ISBN-10: 0997876735
ISBN-13: 9780997876734
ASIN:
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I dedicate this novel to my wonderful readers and for all the amazing people I’ve met and those I haven’t. To my family and loved ones, all your support will not be forgotten.
Thank you
Prologue
Randy Carstens sat quietly in his office at Aspen Stationers’ Supply Company. He was the only person remaining in the laboratory area, for all the other employees, except for some of the bigwigs upstairs, had gone home to their families and hot meals. Heck, Randy was practically a slave among the Aspen ranks, and it seemed the only hot meal he had enjoyed in months had the word ‘Banquet’ emblazoned on the front of the rectangular box.
His office was dark, except for the circle of light from his desk lamp, which illuminated the blotter and the scattering of paperwork which covered it. His forefingers were steepled under his chin, supporting a face which bore a very solemn expression indeed. His brown, rheumy eyes stared at one solitary sheet of paper on his desk, but only for moments at a time. Randy would periodically close his lids, and a tear or two would ooze out from under them, battle his mediocre lashes, and trickle down his damp cheeks.
He opened his eyes yet again, this time even swiping briefly at his cheek before returning his hand and fingers to their original position beneath his chin. His eyes shifted to a framed photo on his desk next to his telephone; his wife and two young sons. A slight smile flickered at the corners of his mouth, then faded rapidly, only to be replaced with a grimace of pain. He clamped his eyes shut once again.
His mind shot to the memory of the meeting earlier that day. He had tried to reason and talk sense to the board members. He had even practically thrown his argument to the mercy of the two men he knew the most, Roger McGinley, the CEO, and Thaddeus Greer, the chief financial officer. Greer was actually siding with him, that release of the new product needed to be postponed so more in-depth testing could be done. The man had buckled in the meeting though, and ultimately ended up a slave to the political machine; Thaddeus Greer voted for timely release just like all the rest of them.
Randy allowed his eyelids to flicker open yet another time, and this time they settled back on the sheet of paper on his desk, the one on the top of the pile. The light from the lamp glistened off a bold scribble of senseless ink on the sheet, causing rainbow-like reflections of color to seemingly bounce around within its own bounds. The holographic effect of the ink was beautiful, almost hypnotizing. It was like no other ink the company made before.
Randy sat forward and took hold of the sheet, then sat back once again. He held the sheet before his face, blocking and shading the lamplight. The bold scribble and all of its three-dimensional hues continued their crazy dance on the white surface, even in the shadows. They seemed to be even more pronounced in the darkness, if that were at all possible. Randy shook his head in disgust and tossed the sheet back onto the desk.
He leaned forward once again and took hold of a pen with a hot pink plastic casing. The words ‘Aspen Lumiosa’ were scrawled on the grip in black cursive; it was followed by smaller words in simple Roman lettering: ‘Wide Point’. Randy held it by the end in the light, between his forefinger and thumb and rolled the tubular casing back and forth. Another tear pooled in his left eye and rolled down his cheek.
Without force or anger he tossed the pen across the room. It hit the wall next to the office door and dropped to the tile floor with a light clatter. Randy sat back again and let his mind wander back to the meeting. He hadn’t tried hard enough, he hadn’t been nearly as forceful with his argument as he should have, but then again, he had never done anything with force or passion in his life, now, had he?
∞
“We are on the verge of bankruptcy, and the Lumiosa series is going to pull us out.” Roger McGinley spoke with a toothy, flashing grin, turning on the charm for the rest of the board to see. “It really is very simple: we release the Lumiosa, right now, on the dawn of a new school year, and I can tell you that this particular item will save us from a sealed fate, people.”
Randy had spoken up once again at that point. He had already presented the problems they were encountering with the Lumiosa in testing, but McGinley had continued to shift the focus to Aspen’s doomed bottom line, and it seemed that no one cared about the truth. He felt powerless and frustrated.
“Mr. McGinley,” he said, then he paused and coughed nervously into his fist, his eyes shifting around the table, glancing quickly at each and every one of the board members. “You realize that, while beautiful and definitely attractive to consumers, some of the testing results are quite… disturbing. We need to do a bit of tweaking, or there is no telling what the consequences will be.”
Greer spoke up. “You know, Randy, I am in agreement with your apprehensions.” The man took a deep breath. “But you yourself have admitted that once the ink dries any potential danger is immediately obliterated, and you also admit that it will be fine if the wet ink doesn’t come into direct contact with broken skin. You and your boys pretty much soaked the lab subjects in Lumiosa, am I correct?”
“Yes, but…”
Greer crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his chair. “I would guess, and it would only be a guess, that the chances of some type of similar adverse reaction in a human would be very slim.” He went into brief thought, clicked his tongue, and continued. “I mean, even if the Lumiosa product were to come into contact, hypothetically speaking, with say, an open wound, the consumer would be getting a minute fraction, in the millionths, of what the subjects were exposed to. And it takes only what, twenty, thirty seconds to dry, maximum?”
“Yes, but…”
“Well, I think it’s obvious that moving on with release is the only way to go,” McGinley interrupted. “If we don’t, we will have to wrap up Aspen altogether, folks, and that is the hard cold truth.” His eyes were steely and cold, not matching the broad smile on his face. They focused forcefully on Randy, making him feel shifty and jittery. “If the real numbers show it is going to be safe, well, that is what we are going to go by, Dr. Carstens.”
Randy couldn’t simply allow the meeting to wrap up and for the truth to be blown over so easily. “Mr. McGinley,” he blurted with a wee bit of assertiveness to his tone, “I don’t know how small of a dose will affect anyone; we haven’t had time to minimize exposure to find the proper range! I tell you, no, I implore you.” he looked around the table, actually making eye contact with each and every person there, “Do not release the Lumiosa! Now, I know that I can concentrate the studies, get them done on a smaller, faster scale. And I will even promise to have any needed changes complete in say, five, six months.”
“Five or six months!” The smile disappeared from McGinley’s face as he tossed a small stack of presentation paperwork down the length of the boardroom table. The sheets flew here and there, some of
them coming close to another board member at the far end, Jill Schmidt. She flinched and jerked away from them, as if afraid of whatever was written on them. “That simply is not acceptable, people! We have thirty days from today, and the doors will be shut!” He stood and paced back and forth behind his chair at the head of the table. Finally, he stopped and put both fists down on the table top and leaned forward, his face flushed and sweating. “It’s as simple as this, folks. Dr. Carstens and his crew have been in contact with Lumiosa all day, every day, for eight months. He is fine; each and every one of his team is fine. We are going to proceed with a vote…”
∞
Just remembering the meeting, the tension at the table, the vote, and the subsequent victory for McGinley regarding the release of the Lumiosa pen series made Randy Carstens want to throw up. He didn’t care what kind of verbal square dance McGinley had done, the fact remained that Randy firmly believed… no, not believed… knew, that this was going to turn out badly. Very badly, indeed.
He rapidly shook his head back and forth as if trying to clear it, then he plucked a tissue from the box on his desk and blew his nose hard. Randy then took a deep breath and stood up. He crossed the room and plucked his suit coat off a wooden coat tree by the door, put it on, and left the office, locking it firmly behind him.
He was in no position to quit; it was more essential now than ever that he press on in testing and make any alterations to the Lumiosa formula that were necessary. He would buck up, brush it off, and put his nose to the grindstone. Tonight, though, he would go home to his family and get a little rest.
He walked down the hallway, his shoes clicking on the hard floor of the corridor. The next door to the left read, ‘Laboratory’. A long window followed that; it was covered on the inside by blinds, which were closed, but at certain points he could see the dim lighting from inside the lab trying to escape through tiny holes.
Randy inserted his key and opened the door. With a flick of the light switch the lab became like day, and he could hear squealing and scurrying immediately. Time to do one final check on the subjects before he left. They had been exposed to a much smaller amount of Lumiosa in the far cage, and they were new rats. Any negative effects would show already if the ink stayed true to form, and Randy suspected that it would.
A loud, squeaky scream suddenly came from the far cages, making Randy nearly jump out of his skin. He pulled himself together in only seconds and made a dash for the area. He was about seven feet from the cage when he was stopped dead in his tracks by what he saw.
Randy continued to step forward, trembling, his lip shaking, and his eyes wide with fear. The sight was horrid, and it was just as bad as it had been for all the others. The smaller exposure hadn’t mattered at all. He simply stood finally, frozen in his place, horrified.
“Oh, my gosh…”
Chapter 1
“I can get whatever supplies I want because I’m in middle school,” Megan told her younger sister Melanie with mock contempt. “You’re only in baby school.”
Melanie bristled and slammed her spoon down on the surface of the kitchen table, causing her bowl of Cocoa Cosmos to bounce slightly. “I’m not a baby, and I’m not in baby school. You’re a brat and that’s all! Mom!!”
Michelle Casperson turned around abruptly from putting cereal boxes into the cupboard. “Alright, alright! That’s enough. Now, I want you both to finish your breakfast, without talking! If you want to go shopping for supplies today rather than this weekend, you are going to want to do as I say, girls. I won’t hesitate to postpone our little trip; school doesn’t start until Monday.”
Both girls fell into immediate silence and began spooning cereal into their mouths. Michelle smiled at the fact that her bluffing worked. Today was actually the only day she had to take them for new school clothing and supplies; she would be busy volunteering for the church garage sale all weekend.
She stood and reveled in the silence and began flipping through a flier from Marceau’s, a clothing store for kids. She had a stack of similar fliers beneath that one; two for shoes another for actual supplies. She had their shopping day planned to a tee, for it was one of the girls’ favorite days of the year.
Michelle got to the flier for the supplies. The front page had smiling kids with backpacks on; the backpack prices were listed for two popular brands, and that was all. She turned to the first page, and the first thing she saw was exactly what she had been looking for: the pens. The Aspen Lumiosa series which Megan had been so excited about.
The pens were five dollars apiece. Michelle raised her eyebrows in surprise. Well, Megan will be getting only one of these today, she thought. She was sure Melanie would want one as well, even though she wasn’t allowed pens in grade school, but Michelle could understand. She had seen a commercial for the pen, and she had to admit, she was tempted to pick one up for herself to play with.
According to the commercial, the new pens, by Aspen, had this crazy ink which was highly colorful, almost holographic in appearance. On the television ad it was actually very beautiful. Michelle had to admit that she didn’t see a scholastic purpose of any kind for the pen, except for maybe artwork, but Aspen had brilliantly begun marketing for the product just a month ago, right before school was set to open, and the pens were going on sale today. Yes, they were smart and sneaky indeed.
Suddenly, the two girls were behind her, plopping their bowls, spoons, and glasses hurriedly into the sink. Michelle jumped, startled, and turned to them. “Nope! Rinse and load, little ladies. Rinse and load.”
Her daughters groaned but proceeded to do as they were told. Michelle snatched up the fliers and grabbed her purse from the kitchen table and put it over her shoulder. “I’m going to start the van. I’ll see you out there in a bit. Megan, make sure to lock the garage door behind you; the rest of the house is already locked up.”
Michelle went into the garage and started the van, then backed out and down the driveway, where she put it into park and leaned out to check the mailbox. After that she looked back into the garage, at the door to the house. In only seconds her daughters emerged, and Melanie came running full-speed for the van while Megan locked the door and closed it.
Suddenly Melanie tripped, her toe catching on an uneven spot in the paved driveway. She fell forward hard, landing with an audible ‘oooff!’ facedown. Immediately the nine-year-old girl began to wail, and Michelle jumped from the van while Megan darted for her little sister, who continued crying loudly from her position on the ground.
They reached her at the same time, and Megan began to help her up. “I’m always tellin’ ya to slow down, Mel! Why do you gotta run all the time?”
Michelle knelt before her youngest as she shot a glare at the elder. “Are you okay? Are you hurt, Melly?”
Melanie’s wailing subsided, and she began to sniffle as she bent her arm at the elbow to show them the back of her forearm. The flesh there was scraped and torn, but it was only skin. The side of her hand, however, was torn a bit more, and it was bleeding, but only slightly.
“Oh, honey,” Michelle soothed. “Let’s go in and put some peroxide on it before we go.”
“No!” Melanie quickly got to her feet and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m fine, Mommy! It stings, but it will go away fast. Let’s go shopping.”
Michelle slowly stood and looked her daughter up and down; the girl was already on her way to the running van at the end of the drive. The woman glanced at Megan, who shrugged, rolled her eyes, and joined her sister. “Ugh! These kids are going to be the death of me,” she said under her breath, then she also made her way back to the van.
All of the stores she had chosen for shopping were close to their suburban home in Thornton, Colorado. Michelle hated not only the Denver freeway traffic, she hated the extensiveness of using it; it could take an hour just to get across town, and she simply didn’t have the patience. She determined years ago that any shopping ever would be done close to home, short of a special nee
d. So, the trio set out for the short drive to Marceau’s; they would get clothes first.
Michelle put the radio on a pop station and all three of them sang along to the latest hit by some bubble-gum blonde whose name seemed to evade her for the time being. She glanced into her review mirror and watched her daughters bopping and singing with all their might. The scraped arm was forgotten, and Michelle gave a sigh of relief through her smile.
Soon she pulled the van into the lot at the Mountain View Mall and glanced at the clock on her dash: nine-thirteen. Cars were already parked, but the place wasn’t too packed, which was exactly what Michelle had been hoping for. She glanced around as she drove around the massive building, still humming to the radio and a song by a boy group she recognized as being called the Three Lads. As she neared Marceau’s she took note that there were many more cars there than she had anticipated, and she wound up taking a parking spot about ten slots from the entrance to the store.
“Alrighty, girlies, let’s hit it!” She put the van in park and turned off the ignition. She quickly turned to the two girls in the backseat, who were removing their seatbelts with trembling excitement. “Ground rules: four regular outfits apiece plus two sets of gym clothes. That’s all you get in here, bottom line. Don’t even try begging for more, or we will leave pronto, got it?”
“Got it,” they both replied in unison.
In minutes they were in Marceau’s. The place had about three small families besides the Caspersons, so Michelle was extremely relieved that they had gotten such an early start. It would make the day go smoothly, and it would make the task fun.
It took them nearly an hour-and-a-half to get the sets of clothes she had budgeted for, and it turned out to be a blast. The experience was filled with laughter, teasing, and much catwalk posing accompanied by dramatic gestures and expressions. Michelle made sure to get plenty of photos on her cell, and wound up posting some to her favorite social media account. The girls were beautiful, and they both glowed with their excitement.
