PREY - Matt Varga

[Doc Varga]

Prey

Matt Varga

OPENING SCENE – Establish setting and tone, build intrigue, set up the inciting incident, establish the protagonist’s voice, hook, and competencies (sympathies)

CHAPTER ONE

My car purred as it drove itself forward, creeping toward the chanting ranks of people and their placards. A drowsy cop motioned my car through the barricade as other officers stood at alert and kept the crowd parted. The picketers screamed the usual insults at me as my car inched through them: murderer, bitch, slut, and worse. With the privacy shields up, they couldn’t see me. I guess they assumed I was a woman because I drove a tiny coup, a sexist but correct inference. Not that it mattered. I could have been any employee—a janitor, a nurse, an office junior—they didn’t care. They just wanted to make me hurt.

A scruffy young man with straggly blond hair holding a placard broke the police barricade. He threw his sign against my windshield, and the car lurched to a halt, its collision detection screen flashing and beeping loudly. My body jerked against the safety belt.

Justice for Jared!! the sign screamed in daubed red letters before the cops dragged it and its bearer away. Alliteration. How clever.

My car crawled the last half mile to Life For Humanity’s twin buildings in the heart of the city. I locked my eyes on them to refocus on my job. Connected by a thin walkway on the fourteenth floor, the silver, metallic buildings added a low set H to the Philadelphia skyline. While not tall enough to be visible from all angles, they were among the most recognizable structures in the States. Though, how people felt about them varied wildly. I found them magnificent. The masses blocking my entry, not so much. 

Once I was safe inside the half-filled parking garage, my car pulled into my reserved space, third after only my director and the receptionist, Theresa, who used a wheelchair. I gathered my belongings and stepped out into the cold, stagnant November air. I could still hear their chants whispering in my ear like an unwelcome stranger standing too close behind me. I rubbed my ears and twisted my neck to shrug the jitters off until I got in the elevator and took it to the lobby.

The LFH main lobby conveyed the calmness and tranquility of a spa with a dash of lemon-scented cleaner. Tall, vaulted ceilings made of glass stretched above the open lobby, giving views of the neighboring skyscrapers. Polished floors captured a sharp reflection of the room in stunning clarity. In the center, a black, marble fountain spewed water half-a-dozen feet in the air. Its mist tickled my skin as I walked by.

To my right, businessmen huddled in the waiting areas, likely strategizing their pitch for a new research program. One smiled at me, but I ignored him. One accidental acknowledgment and he’d be asking me for advice. I didn’t care about their programs. And, I certainly didn’t have time for them.

Soon I would meet Save 200. A feat no one thought possible until I shattered the previous record in the early fall.

I should have been happy or excited, or at least planning what to do after my inevitable victory. But intrusive thoughts lingered on Save 199, a former top-dog CEO of a Fortune 500. During our first session, he raged and railed against the world. By the second session, he stared at me with wide eyes that pleaded for hope like a puppy begging for treats. I’d somehow found a way to give him that hope. But I remembered the stench on him when he first came in. A man who had not bathed or changed clothes in who knew how long. Even when he did clean up halfway through our sessions, I could still smell the decay. And when he left for the last time, a waft of it clung to the floor.

It reminded me of a scent from long ago that curled my stomach. A scent I couldn’t shake. One that had somehow found me here, behind the barriers and thick walls of what had become my sanctuary.

 

AUTHOR NOTE- I’ve ‘fast-forwarded’ here to include dialogue as requested. Dr. Ansley is called to her supervisor’s office. This is the inciting incident.

 

Sidney looked up from his papers. Even in the age of tablets, he was always scribbling on paper. He was a tall, wiry black man with a stubbly grey beard in his early fifties—I could never remember anyone’s age, even my own sometimes. As always, he wore a finely tailored suit.

Sidney motioned for me to sit across from him.  “Dr. Ansley, have a seat.”

I swung the chair out and sat casually. “You know, I could get used to coming in at eleven.”

He smirked. “No, you couldn’t.”

I frowned. “You’re right. I hate it. This is ridiculous. Only one case until the end of the year? I have two months to go.”

“The board cares about the ninety-nine percent success rate just as much as getting to two hundred.”

My frown deepened to a scowl. “They don’t care about either. They just want the good press.”

A long time ago, Sidney was likely fit, but age and wear had piled on to him. The lines on his cheeks made it look like his face was hung on his skull, though they made him look distinguished and serious rather than unsightly. Today he just looked exceptionally tired. “Jared’s parents are suing to have all TTICs operate with their real names and have their caseloads public. Good press is what they need.”

“That will never happen.” So many had tried before. Not a bone in my body worried.

“Never say never.”

“We have the best lawyers on the planet.”

Sidney rubbed his right eye. “There are real consequences facing LFH. What we do is complicated. If we can’t demonstrate positives, especially in light of recent situations, we will all have to pay.”

“So, you are putting the future of the company, and all our well-being on my 200^th save?”

Sidney’s face betrayed no emotion. “We all have a part to play. But your 200^th isn’t just about your own personal exultation. It affects all of us. Roger most of all.”

“That’s bullshit, Sidney. Don’t put Roger on me.”

His face stayed flat. “It’s not fair, I know. But it’s the reality of things.” Sidney was never one to exaggerate, so I knew things must be dire. “Plus, I’m sure you could use the two hundred-thousand-dollar bonus they are offering,” he added, finally cracking a smile.

“Yeah, well, it shouldn’t be a problem,” I said, though the words felt heavy and cursed. Sidney was technically my boss, but he was an administrator and wise enough to defer to the doctors on the front line. I knew I was one of his favorites, not just because of my record but also because our personalities meshed so well. We both focused on opportunities rather than obstacles.

“The board wants you to have your choice. One last patient for the year. One last save. I’ve eliminated all the terminally ill patients at the board’s request. You have several options. The top two are my recommendations.” He pressed on his tablet and brought up four photos.

I tapped my fingers together theatrically. “I don’t normally get to pick. How exciting.” I scanned through the photos and selected the first one. Brandon Meyers. Age 48. Struggled with suicidal thoughts since his teenage years. Abusive upbringing. “Nah.”  I swiped the picture away to close the file. I selected the second. Deborah Jackman. Age 36. History of substance abuse. “Deborah could work.”

Sidney nodded. “I can get it set up, then.”

Before he could close the screen, I noticed the last portrait of a young-looking man named Derrick Powell. “Wait. Who’s that?”

Sidney shook his head. “I don’t recommend him. He’s been…confrontational.”

“How so?” I clicked on his portrait and brought up his information. Age 22. No abnormalities.

“He thinks he’s a bit of a savant.”

I looked up and winked. “Sounds like someone I know. What does this mean--‘no abnormalities?’ He has to state a reason he wants to apply.”

Sidney leaned back and shrugged. “He simply said he wants to die, and the reason is none of our business.”

I smiled. “I like him already.” My blood began to pulse, and I licked my teeth.

“Rebecca, let’s not do this.” It was his fatherly tone, along with calling me by my first name. That was his only chance to get to me, but it wasn’t going to work this time. “Take another, easier case. You’ve earned it.”

“You know that’s not how I work. Derrick it is. Is he here now?” I don’t know what it was about Derrick’s soft, timid face that enthralled me. It was like walking into a pet store and knowing which cat was the right one.

“Rebecca, please listen to me.”

He had just put the welfare of the entire company and my fellow TTICs on my shoulders. I could at least have this. Before he could say anything more, I stood up and brushed my pantsuit. “Great, send him up in fifteen minutes.” For the first time all morning, thoughts of Save 199 were replaced by enthusiasm. The younger patients were always my favorite. In truth, I had been mad that Jared hadn’t gone to me. I loved Roger, and I knew he did the best he could, but dealing with young people was one of my specialties. That’s where the real stakes were. Entire lives on the line.