The VIP Room (42 page)

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I
rested
my face in my hands atop the long and dark mahogany table, listening to the chattering of tired and frightened men, my predator’s senses flaring beneath my skin. Everything was falling apart before my eyes - ten years of hard, unending effort slowly slipping down Wall Street’s toilet. And, worst yet, it seemed that no matter how hard I tried, there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“What should we
do,
Chase?” one voice called out to me, indistinguishable from the haggard cries of others in the room.

“We’ve got to form a plan!” called another, doing his best to find hope where there simply wasn’t any.

The recession, experts said, was over, and yet Hammer Industries hadn’t even begun to recover. Something was distinctly wrong, and no matter how hard I tried, I simply could not find or provide the answers that these men so desperately sought. The company that I had built with my own blood, sweat, and tears was grinding to a halt, and if I did nothing, it would fall apart around me.

“Stop,” I said finally, immediately quieting the voices as I looked up from the table.

Five haggard faces, worn and weary from the stress of losing their livelihood, all looked at me in unison. These men were my friends, allies with whom I had built a software empire. They were innovators, brilliant, and wonderful men all, but none of them could solve the current crisis, and they knew it. That’s why I was CEO, why I had been given charge of the company’s direction, and why I was solely responsible for getting us all out of the mess we’d created. Something had to give, and I had to be the one to give it.

I stood from my chair and walked toward the window, the room still silent as I admired the darkening New York City skyline. The conference room faced the east, and I could make out Lady Liberty signaling her welcome to weary souls. The city itself was alive with activity, as it always was, and from the ninety-eighth floor, everyone below looked like mere toys in the midst of a playground for the gods.

I shook my head, doing my best to clear my thoughts, as I caught sight of my reflection in the window. My broad shoulders were held in a less-than-confident manner, slumped downward even in my tailored suit. My hair was a mess, its dark brown curls ruffled by a full day’s worth of pulling and mussing. My deep hazel eyes were haggard and empty, the cold glare of my bear little more than a glimmer. He was there, waiting and biding his time, but growing ever more impatient. The stress of Hammer Industries’ financial crisis had him boiling to an edge, and if I didn’t do something soon, I was afraid he’d run loose, uncontrollable among the stone walls of the concrete jungle.

“Chase?” a voice from behind called, piercing the silence, and I turned to face the group of assembled men.

“Right,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “What’s the latest again, Collin?”

Collin, the lead software engineer for the company, stared at me absently, his forehead wrinkled in almost agony as he began to speak, “We’re pretty much bleeding out. The costs of development are significantly higher than the profit margin should allow, and we’re a good six to eight months behind.”

I took a breath before responding, doing my best to stave off the rising fury that my internal predator threatened to exhibit. “How did this happen?” I asked as calmly as I could manage.

“Well,” Collin started, adjusting himself in his seat, and poising himself as far away from me as he could without really moving. “There were some layoffs, due to the economic pressure. That, coupled with the significant series of bugs we found during the first phase of development, and you have a recipe for, well, disaster.”

“And
how
does a multi billion dollar company not have the resources to get around this?” I asked a bit more harshly than I intended.

Collin stared at me, doing his best to avoid eye contact, and mumbled, “It’s not a lack of resources. It was poor instructions and architecture…on my part.”

Before I knew what was happening, I stormed across the room toward Collin, grabbed him out of his chair, and drove him against the wall, lifting him so that his eyes were on level with my well-above six feet of height. “You’re the
damned
lead engineer, Collin. What? Were you too busy with your whores or your blow to pay attention to what you were doing?” I dropped him on the floor and watched him spill to the floor, his face planted firmly in his hands.

The rest of the men stared at me, their eyes wide with both shock and horror, and it was all I could do to keep from tearing at them as well.

All my hard work. Years of tedious labor. A decade of gathering resources, funding, and some of the most brilliant mathematical minds in the world. And it was all crumbling because of the errors made by these men. It was all I could do to be in the same room with them without tossing them, one by one, from the ninety-eight floor.

I needed to be away from them, to be somewhere I could clear my head, and figure out how to right this rapidly sinking ship. I needed to be somewhere I could let my bear out, somewhere I could
breathe.

Without so much as a word, I stormed out of the room, my bear doing his best to climb out from under my skin as my fury built.

Reaching my own office, I immediately walked up to my desk and punched a button on the intercom, signaling for my secretary to respond.

After a moment, my secretary’s voice filled the room. “Yes, Mr. Hammer?”

“Sarah,” I said, still trying to still my breathing, “Charter a flight to Boone, North Carolina. Have the chopper ready in fifteen.”

“You’re leaving
now?”
Sarah’s voice beamed over the intercom again, this time filled with both surprise and worry. She knew just as well as anyone that the company was bleeding out, and the thought of the CEO taking an impromptu trip to Appalachia likely didn’t seem like the best possible business move at the time.

“Yes. I’m going out to my parents’ place. It’s urgent,” I told her, offering a half-truth. My parents did, at one time, own a place in Boone. But they’d passed away over a decade ago, just as I had begun laying the groundwork for my company. Since then, their cabin had sat desolate and empty amid the mountains of the Blue Ridge Parkway. I hadn’t had a chance to visit the place since their deaths, but now seemed as good a time as any to get away from the city, let my bear roam for a while, and I could take the time to pack up cabin while I was there.

Hammer Industries would have to wait. If I stayed in the city much longer, the company would have more problems on its hands than just plummeting stocks, they’d have a vicious and hungry predator roaming the halls.

“It’s done, sir.” Sarah said after a few minutes. “Safe travels.”

“Thank you, Sarah,” I replied as I gathered a few of my things and exited the office, making my way toward the roof where my helicopter awaited.

It was finally time for some peace and quiet.

M
y feet were aching
as I rounded the stream. Boots too old and too worn from countless hiking and fishing trips crushed inward against my feet, and I dropped to a seat atop a large boulder the moment I came close enough to it. The crisp mountain air of the Blue Ridge Parkway filled my nostrils as I inhaled deeply, and I watched in silence as fish and birds danced in and above the water.

I heaved my backpack off my back and sat it on the boulder beside me, retrieving my water bottle as I did. Taking a large swig of the water, I noticed, for the first time, that my brow was matted with sweat. I’d been hiking for the better part of five hours, and as best as I could tell, the nearest point of civilization was several miles away in any direction. Part of me - the part that loved urbanization and socialization - yearned to return to the small college town. The rest, however, the part that held a deep love for adventure and exploration, urged for me to keep walking. A little further into the woods, and I would be the furthest I’d ever been. A little further, and everything would be new and exciting.

I’d been born and raised in the quiet community of Boone, had grown up amid its hills and streams and splendor, and had even attended Appalachian State University in order to earn a degree in journalism, which I had immediately put to good use by taking a job at the
High Country Press
. I’d never so much as left Watauga County, and for a twenty-five year old Carolina girl with adventure at heart, that’s about as damning as it gets.

Working at a small-town paper doesn’t really afford the necessary finances to extensively travel, especially when a part-time, and often freelance, gig is all I could manage. You don’t exactly need a huge amount of staff writers for a small community like Boone. Though, the lack of a typical nine-to-five did afford me the opportunity to explore the Parkway whenever I wanted.

Replacing my bottle in the side pocket of my backpack, I heaved the bag back into its position on my back, and clambered off the boulder. Stretching my arms above my head, I took a deep breath and stared at my reflection in the water. My dark brown hair was utterly disheveled from all the hiking, even while still bound up in a pony tail. As suspected, my pink tank top was absolutely drenched with sweat, and my jean shorts were already torn from where I’d gotten caught up in a brier patch a ways back on the trail.

I shifted to the side a bit, examining my silhouette, and taking note of my curvaceous body. I’d never cut it as a stick-figure model, having more in common with Kate Upton in the curvy areas than Victoria’s Angels. Even with all of the hiking and kayaking I did, I’d never been able to burn away what other girls in my college classes had called “undesirable features”. I snorted at that, just as I had back then. I was proud of my body, and often felt sexy in my own skin. If a man couldn’t see beyond the bend of my curves, he wasn’t worth spending time with. Or, at least, that’s what my mother would have said.

I shook my head, dismissing the memories of snarky college girls, and turned away from the water. I was determined to keep moving forward and into the unknown. For all I knew, I was the first person in ages - maybe ever! - to tread along this part of the mountains, and that was an opportunity that I couldn’t pass up.

The sun was had reached its peak in the sky - I had set out early this morning, just after sunrise - when I happened upon an outcropping of boulders and stones along the mountainside. At first, I thought it little more than a wall of stone built into the mountain. Upon further examination, though, I quickly noted that not only was it not just a wall, it was a full blown cave, deep and dark as far as I could see.

My sense of adventure immediately perked up, and I found myself reaching back into my backpack in search of my flashlight. I found the light, a small, hand-sized, but military-grade light, and powered it on. The shadows immediately burst into light, and I stared as deeply as I could from the mouth of the cave.

As best as I could tell, the cave was completely barren, likely untouched for years or maybe decades. Glancing about and behind me for a second, I decided to venture into the cave. Once my curiosity got the best of me, I was hopeless.

I worked my way into the cave slowly, careful of snakes or other critters that might have found residence in the dank and musty darkness inside the mountain. My instincts were flaring up, begging me not to proceed any further, but I dismissed it as a fear of the unknown. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to find the end of the cave, to explore its depths to the fullest, and to claim some small victory of exploration for myself.

That’s when I heard the huffing and low growl that, as a product of the mountains, I was so familiar with. A glint of light in my peripheral caught my eye, and I turned to face it, jerking the flashlight out in front of me as I did. There, in the depths of the cave, not more than a hundred feet from me, stood a massive black bear.

“Shitfuck
,” I hissed as the hair on my neck stood on end. I stared, helplessly, at the bear for a long moment, its eyes locked on mine for what felt like an eternity. Gathering my senses, I started to back slowly away from the bear, doing my best to create distance before turning tail and running for my life. Before I could back up more than a few yards, though, the bear took a step forward, stood to its full height, and let out a long and ferocious roar.

I didn’t need any more encouragement than that, immediately turning and darting toward the mouth of the cave as quickly as I could. My bag, heavy with all of my hiking supplies, bounced cumbersomely on my back. I didn’t dare to look back, but I could hear the bear giving chase as I sped out of the cave and into the daylight. The bear’s low growl and huffing kept time with my own haggard breathing, and I knew that it was gaining on me. I remembered reading something once that said black bears could reach land speeds of up to thirty-five miles per hour. That was a good thirty miles per hour faster than I could manage, and it wouldn’t be long before the predator caught up to me. I had to do something.

I darted as for the stream, zigging and zagging through the woods as I did, almost stumbling on more than one occasion as I worked down the steep incline. The bear was nearly tearing at my heels, and I could almost feel it as it beat down upon the dirt behind me. Panic began to set in and the adrenaline that had propelled me from the cave to here was beginning to die out. If something didn’t happen, I’d be dead in minutes.

Without thinking, I slipped my backpack out from over my shoulders and tossed it over my head back toward the bear. With any luck, it would go after the bag. At the very least, I’d be significantly less encumbered, which should make fleeing somewhat less difficult. For a moment, it seemed like that had done the trick. The sounds of the bear chasing after me fleeted for a second as the predator attacked and destroyed my bag, emptying its contents almost instantly. Once the bear was satisfied that nothing of quality was in the bag, however, it resumed its pursuit.

When I heard the bear clambering after me again, I felt the first real pang of hopelessness claw its way into my mind. I’d encountered bears before - basically everyone in town had - but I’d never been pursued as heartedly by one before. Never had I felt in any
real
danger. I must have done something to seriously piss this bear off, then, because it was dead set on dragging me across the rocks.

Just then, I heard another sound approaching from behind me, off in the opposite direction of the bear. It sounded similar, in fact, to the bear pursuing me, but somehow larger and more ferocious. Without thinking, I turned my head toward the sound, just in time to see another, even larger black bear speeding across the mountainside toward me. Cursing my luck, I doubled down on my speed and sprinted down the mountain as quickly as I could, my breath all but lost in the activity.

My foot suddenly hit something hard and my body jerked forward and toward the ground. Almost by reflex, I curled up into a ball and rolled forward, head over heel, as I crashed down the mountainside. My body bounced and collided with dirt and stone as I continued rolling forward, my world transformed into a swirling spiral of tree-sky-dirt-tree. I found myself unable to breath, the air long since knocked from my lungs, and I knew, in that moment, that I was going to die. If the fall didn’t kill me, the bears would.

That’s when I collided with large boulder, my head slamming backward against the rock as my back came to a rest against it. Sheer agony wracked through my body, and I felt a trickle of blood flowing down the back of my head. My vision swam, and in the distance I could make out a large figure racing toward me.

The world faded into black.