The Park (Evenstad Media Presents Book 1)

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The Park (Evenstad Media Presents Book 1) Page 3

by Foster, Voss


  He's a little foul-mouthed, but I accept it as another part of him. You knew all of this about him when You chose to send him to me, and I do not question Your endless wisdom. Perhaps I can even fix that fault.

  I have prayed for a man to enter my life for many years, and wondered at times if my prayer was being ignored. But now I see how foolish that was. I should never doubt Your glory. This is never what I expected or even imagined, but I know You have a reason for doing things the way You have.

  So I thank You for bringing us together. Together, with Your guidance, we will be able to survive all our trials.

  Amen.

  ENTRY END

  TO: Dr. Matilda Grand

  FROM: Niels Evenstad

  SUBJECT: RE: Psychology: The Park

  SENT 11/12/2071 AT 2:23 p.m. EST

  Dr. Grand,

  I have looked over your review of the psychological impact of our social experiment, and I am very pleased with your work. It was very thorough. I will be presenting it to the rest of the board here at Evenstad Media this coming Friday, and I would be very appreciative if you would join us. It would lend a certain credence to your conclusions that I alone would not be able to bring to the table.

  If you choose to attend this meeting, please let me know as soon as possible. The company would cover your airfare, room, board, and any other expenses you may incur.

  Hoping to hear from you soon,

  Niels Evenstad

  Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media

  —

  TO: Niels Evenstad

  FROM: Dr. Matilda Grand

  SUBJECT: RE: Psychology: The Park

  SENT 11/12/2071 AT: 4:03 p.m. EST

  Mr. Evenstad,

  I would be happy to take part in such a meeting. Although I'm not certain how you intend to make these people believe that they are killing each other, the possibilities are very exciting. This is a part of human nature that psychologists rarely have a chance to delve into.

  In fact, I was hoping that I might be able to obtain your permission to release a paper on the experiment, when everything is over and done. We can talk about it in more detail when I see you tomorrow.

  Dr. Matilda Grand

  Head of Psychology, Evenstad University

  —

  TO: Dr. Matilda Grand

  FROM: Niels Evenstad

  SUBJECT: RE: Psychology: The Park

  SENT: 11/12/2071 AT 4:39 p.m. EST

  Dr. Grand,

  Your flight will leave at 10 a.m. tomorrow. I hope that's not too short of notice. I doubt I have to tell you, but business attire will be required.

  As for the paper, I can see no issue with it. It will, of course, have to pass by the rest of the board members, but approval seems likely.

  I will also warn you now that you will have to sign a non-disclosure agreement. We can't have anyone involved with the project in its inception reveal anything before the program has aired. I'm sure you understand.

  A driver will be there to pick you up tomorrow morning.

  Niels Evenstad

  Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media

  JOURNAL 05CRAIG

  ENTRY 002

  DATE: 1/9/2074

  I've been trying to get into this CESU, see what makes it tick. Hell, if I'm being honest, I'm hoping that there's a way to get out of here, if I can just find it. And my Master's in electrical engineering says that, if anyone here can, I can. Unless I'm not the only one here who's qualified. Still haven't met anyone else, yet. I guess it's possible that everyone here could be an electrical engineer. If that's the case, all the more reason to start in on it now, before someone else does the work.

  At least, that was the thought. My main hurdle is the lack of any kind of tools. Food, I have. Water, electricity, heat, shelter, light. All of that's good. But there aren't any tools anywhere in this house, or the houses around it. Without tools, I'm kind of at a stopping point. I tried tearing up the walls, hoping to get something I could use, but everything broke. Hell, I don't even know if regular tools would work on this thing. I might need pneumatics. Which I really highly doubt whoever put us here would leave lying around.

  But I really don't have anything else to do. So, I'm taking a bed sheet full of food, just in case something goes wrong, and I'm going looking, starting tomorrow. Maybe I can find something, anything.

  ENTRY END

  TO: Board Members

  FROM: Niels Evenstad

  SUBJECT: Tomorrow's Meeting

  SENT 11/12/2071 AT 5:06 p.m. EST

  This is in regards to the meeting of the board tomorrow. Dr. Matilda Grand will be in attendance. She is a psychologist, and has given a favorable enough review of The Park's psychological impact on the players that we should be able to push the program through without too much issue. However, she is under the impression that the contestant deaths will be somehow fabricated. It is important that she continue to believe this, so no slips of the tongue.

  I will see you all tomorrow,

  Niels Evenstad

  Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media

  JOURNAL 07JULIA

  ENTRY 002

  DATE: 1/11/2074

  I'm writing this down, because if I don't somehow get it on record, I don't think it's going to count. I need to make sure that I remember this and that it's going to stick.

  I'm not cut out for this. I mean, I don't know if anyone's really cut out for this. You can't live like this, always wondering when you're going to be attacked, or when some mysterious kidnapper is going to come back and throw your whole life into chaos, again.

  So I'm just going to go back to the way things were. I'm a line cook, and I haven't been to work in over a week. So this morning was sausage and some canned biscuits I found in the fridge. Just cooking like that and eating food that I actually put something of myself into, I feel better. I don't have any cleaning supplies, but there's a mop and some water. I'm going to do the best I can.

  Dinner's already in the oven. There were some chicken breasts and canned potatoes, so I'm letting them roast.

  This place is weird. It's like they just pulled all the people out of a trailer park, then stuck us in and closed it off. Everything's still here. But I know that's not true. All the bags and boxes and everything are full and unopened. But these Evenstad people went to a lot of trouble to make it feel like the real thing.

  Enough of that. I'm not staying on track already. Cooking, cleaning, sleeping. Those are three things I know I can do.

  As a final reminder to myself, in case I need it, the medallion is in the drawer in the nightstand. I'm not going to keep wearing it. It'll just remind me that I'm not actually at home even more.

  ENTRY END

  MINUTES: EVENSTAD MEDIA BOARD OF DIRECTORS MEETING

  11/13/2071

  PAGE 6

  N. EVENSTAD (cont.): moneymaking machine.

  S. CALDER: And the worst public image we'll have ever had.

  N. EVENSTAD: Not if we play it right, Sarah. You know it's all in the marketing.

  S. CALDER: And I know that marketing can only do so much. You're talking about a game where even the winner comes out in need of therapy. How do you think the public is going to react to that?

  N. EVENSTAD: The same way they react to a car crash. They'll watch it, and then they'll keep watching as long as possible. Which is once a week. And the winner will be compensated a small fortune for their participation.

  M. GRAND: I don't think the psychological trauma will be all that intense. That was one of Mr. Evenstad's key concerns when he presented the premise of the experiment to me. I won't say that the winner, or anyone, will come out of it in perfect mental health, but I hardly think anyone can expect that with an experiment of this nature.

  N. EVENSTAD: You see. As I've told y
ou all several times, I've been through the psychological ramifications of the experience in depth. In your folders, you'll find a complete copy of Dr. Grand's thoughts on the matter.

  S. CALDER: I still don't agree with this, Niels.

  N. EVENSTAD: You don't have to agree with it, Sarah. We've taken a vote. The show will go into production. And I am personally done humoring further discussion of this matter. There are more pressing things to go over.

  D. YOSTER: I agree. My people have gone through the current proposal for this show and, according to the numbers that you have given as an estimate, there's hardly any profit in this for us.

  N. EVENSTAD: I had your department run the numbers as well. And I agreed with you. Which is why I am making an addition to the initial proposal. Online content. Special, extended footage. Obviously, we'll have hundreds of hours of footage that we can't put into the weekly shows. But, for a small fee, any fan can have access to any of the footage our cameras record. I had your department run the numbers with that included, and the profits are considerably prettier to look at, even if only ten percent of our expected viewership subscribes to the program.

  D. YOSTER: How much prettier?

  N. EVENSTAD: An increase in profits of about seventy-five percent. Possibly more, depending on our final decisions on the matter.

  D. YOSTER: That is impressive, Niels. But there are much more efficient ways of making more money on this program. I mean, the current proposal involves acquiring a truly massive amount of empty land, one-hundred mobile homes, and more than a years' supply of food for these twelve mystery contestants, plus electricity and water and construction costs. And these energy storage units. That's a six-figure cost alone.

  N. EVENSTAD: I'm currently in negotiations with my brother Frederick. When this show airs, it will be an excellent chance for Evenstad Technologies to debut their technology. And there's no better stage than national primetime. I believe we can use that to get a greatly reduced price on the CESUs.

  D. YOSTER: And the land? Leave alone the fact that we have to find empty land not owned by the government, the average cost of an acre is over ten-thousand, right now. Something has to be sacrificed, if this is to be a true moneymaking machine, as you claim.

  N. EVENSTAD: I'm sure we can find a compromise.

  JOURNAL 09TINA

  ENTRY 003

  DATE: 1/11/2074

  I can't take this crap anymore. I'm starting to see things, cooped up like this. I don't care if it's safe, according to logic. Logic obviously isn't working anymore. No matter what I tell myself, no matter what I actually know to be true, there's this big, heavy ball of fear and worry and angst and shit that just sits there in my stomach and grows and throbs.

  I don't think there's any way out, either. I think this is my life, until I die. I tried to break out, but I wasn't willing to go out close to the edge and draw attention to myself. The medallion made a loud noise, but I had to try. I couldn't see, but I don't think I got anywhere close to the ceiling. I can't even see the ceiling. Probably too high up, anyway.

  But I'm still stuck here, just waiting for something terrible to happen. I'm forcing myself to eat, right now, because I know that I need to keep putting fuel into my body. But I'm barely even tasting it, anymore. It's like I can feel myself fraying. Right now, it's small things, tears at the edges of my senses. But it's only going to work deeper and deeper. Something has got to change. Otherwise I'm not going to make it out of this hellhole intact. Of course, I still might not make it out intact, even if I can pull myself together. Not if only one of us can survive.

  ENTRY END.

  JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

  ENTRY 002

  DATE: 1/11/2074

  In the end, it was the food that got me where I am. I could smell it on the air. I never learned to cook. I guess it got sacrificed for my career. Not that big of a deal, really. Except that I've spent nearly two weeks subsisting on tap water and canned vegetables. So, I admit it, I was weak. I smelled real, cooked food and I went for it. I was fully ready to attack whoever it was that had it, too. Luckily for both of us, it didn't come down to it. This Julia lady, she was willing to share her dinner with me. I'd actually say she was happy to share, which I don't get. Unless she wanted me to eat it. Flashing on the witch in the gingerbread cottage. Come eat my food so I can shove you in the oven.

  That's why I ate in the living room, not with her in the dining room. She wasn't about to get anything over on me, if that was her intention. Really good chicken, though. I'm all around impressed with this lady. She's managing to keep her cool a hell of a lot better than I am. Which is pretty damn scary. She's carrying on life like nothing's going on. Which means she's got a reason to be confident. Or she's some kind of sociopath. Either way, not things I want in an opponent.

  But, so far, she hasn't tried to kill me. After I finish up, I'm going to head to a new trailer so she can't find me. But she's already invited me back for breakfast. I'll probably come. If it's anywhere near as good as this dinner, I'll be more than satisfied. But I'll be keeping a good watch on her, too.

  ENTRY END

  JOURNAL 11SUSAN

  ENTRY 002

  DATE: 1/12/2074

  I've set up defenses around the trailer. It's taken some time, but it's important. I have no tools, but I've torn apart pieces of the house to do what I could. I dug holes, made some makeshift nets from sheets, put some things around the door. I had to go to a few other trailers, get hinges, tear open mattresses for springs. Nothing is strong, but it will suffice. Good enough for me to get at them with the medallion.

  I want that money. Twenty million dollars. I can hole up here and be just fine, too. No need to run about looking for people. Eventually, they'll find me. Will replan if I run out of food before then. Already gathered provisions from surrounding trailers. Should be able to stay here a while. Will improve traps and alarms tomorrow. Sleeping now.

  ENTRY END

  JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

  ENTRY 003

  DATE: 1/12/2074

  I'm a fucking idiot. I'm letting everything get twisted around in my head. This Desiree, I think I like her too much. Not, like, loving kind of way or anything, but definitely something. She's hard not to like. She's kind and kind of broken, and I can't resist someone broken. I see so many broken people driving cab. So many people in general, but the broken ones stand out to me. Always have, and it's been known to get me in a lot of fucking trouble. When you get involved with broken people, things don't necessarily turn out for the best. Not in my experience.

  And that's why I'm a fucking idiot. She's so broken, she believes in God. Honestly, how the hell can she believe in some benevolent, all-loving sky daddy when we've all been chucked in this fucking nightmare? I don't get it, and I just worry that she's not strong enough. And if I'm attached to her, however I'm getting attached to her, that's a weakness to me, too.

  I'm doing my best not to let her get too close, or let me get too close. I don't think I can afford that. But I also don't think it's working. I keep finding myself wanting to spend time with her. I even thought about what would happen if someone attacked her. Trying to work it out so I could have some kind of rough escape from the whole thing, if escape was an option. But I kept on feeling this little tug in my guts. I want to fucking protect her. Just like I do with every other broken person I find. I try to protect them, and that's what gets me in trouble.

  You'd think I'd learn my God damn lesson.

  ENTRY END

  JOURNAL 05CRAIG

  ENTRY 003

  DATE: 1/12/2074

  I just about died. I'm good. I think I'm good. But I can't really say anything for sure. I'm currently with the lady who wanted to kill me. I think I have her trust, but it's not really an auspicious way to start off a relationship.

  I was still looking for tools, and hers was the next trailer in line. The lights were off, so I couldn't see a damn thing. That's where the problems started. She set up traps. Primitive traps, but pretty
good, considering that she didn't have tools. Or she claimed she didn't have tools. I probably believe that claim, though. Haven't seen so much as a screwdriver in the whole time I've been out looking.

  So I fell in a hole. And the lights came on. I saw a figure and I did the only thing I could think of. Closed my eyes and pressed the button on the medallion. I could see the brightness of it through my eyelids.

  The hole was shallow enough that I managed to get out, but I didn't get away. Either she wasn't looking at the flash when it went off or she grabbed after the sounds I was making, or she just got really, really lucky, I don't know for sure. But she got hold of me. Threatened to burn straight through my head. Crazy jabber or justified threat, I wasn't going to take the risk. So I started talking. The only thing that came out of my mouth was shit about engineering. With the lights on in the trailer, I could see some of the traps and shit she'd put together. I started telling her how she could fix them. I don't know. I wasn't exactly in full control of myself.

  Apparently, she liked what she heard. A little. Not enough to put the medallion down, but enough to let me go. She kept asking all these questions about the traps. I figured it was either come up with some possible fixes for her setup or find out what that medallion could actually do, so I talked. It was probably an hour. She didn't say much. Very concise. But I must have pleased her. She offered not to kill me if I could help her out. I wasn't entirely sure that I could. I mean, no tools, if I was to believe her. But I went for it.

 

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