“When we are, death is not come, and when death is come, we are not.”
— Epicurus (341–270 BC), Letter to Menoeceus
Manhattan. Late at night.
Nick Johnson was sitting in his apartment when his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Hello?”
“Nick Johnson?”
“Speaking.”
“Are you alone?”
“Who’s calling?”
“Please answer the question.”
Nick looked toward the windows.
“Yes. Why?”
“Your name is Nicholas Andrew Johnson. You live at 117 West 57th Street. Three days ago, you attended a meeting concerning a thirty-million-dollar acquisition.”
Nick stood up.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Someone who needs to show you something.”
“How did you get my number?”
“Nick, listen carefully. You weren’t supposed to survive.”
He remained silent.
“What did you just say?”
“I can’t explain this over the phone. There’s an address I’m going to send you. Come alone.”
“Lady, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing—”
“Three days ago, you died.”
The call ended.
A message appeared on his phone.
An address in Lower Manhattan.
Nick stared at the screen.
Then he grabbed his jacket.
The building appeared to be an ordinary private medical facility.
Nick entered through a side door.
A woman in her early forties was waiting for him.
“Mr. Johnson?”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Dr. Evelyn Carter.”
She held out her hand.
Nick ignored it.
“You have five minutes to explain what the hell is going on.”
“Come with me.”
She led him through a corridor and into a large examination room.
Several people were sitting inside.
A young man with bandages around his head. An elderly woman. A teenage girl lying on a medical bed.
Others appeared completely healthy.
Nick looked around.
“What is this place?”
Evelyn approached a terminal.
“Everyone in this room has something in common.”
She activated the display.
Medical records appeared.
“All of them were declared dead.”
Nick looked at the young man.
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what we thought.”
She opened another file.
Nick’s photograph appeared on the screen.
His full name.
His date of birth.
A medical report.
And a time of death recorded three days earlier.
Nick moved closer.
“This is bullshit.”
Evelyn enlarged the document.
“Look at the bottom.”
Nick examined the signature.
His expression changed.
It was his own handwriting.
“Where did you get this?”
“That’s what we’re trying to understand.”
Nick turned toward her.
“Are you telling me I signed my own death certificate?”
“No, Mr. Johnson.”
She opened another document.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Nick lying on an examination table.
His eyes were closed.
There was a large wound across his chest.
Evelyn looked at him.
“I’m telling you that you were there when it happened.”
A loud metallic impact echoed through the building.
The lights flickered.
Evelyn turned toward the door.
Another impact.
A security alarm sounded.
A voice came through the ceiling speakers.
“Security breach. Lower level. All personnel proceed to designated safe areas.”
Evelyn grabbed Nick’s arm.
“We need to leave. Now.”
“What the hell is happening?”
She opened a cabinet and removed a small electronic device.
“Stay behind me.”
They entered the corridor.
At the far end, three armed figures appeared.
“Dr. Carter!”
Evelyn stopped.
One of the men raised his weapon.
“Step away from the subject.”
Nick looked at her.
“Subject?”
Evelyn pushed him toward an open doorway.
“RUN!”
Gunfire erupted.
Glass shattered behind them.
Nick fell against a wall.
Evelyn collapsed.
He turned.
Blood was spreading across her white coat.
“Jesus Christ!”
She reached toward him.
“Get them out.”
“Who?”
“The others.”
Another burst of gunfire struck the corridor.
Nick dragged Evelyn through the doorway and slammed it shut.
She pressed the electronic device into his hand.
“Level three. Emergency access.”
“You’re coming with me.”
“Nick.”
He looked at her.
“Don’t leave them here.”
Her hand fell.
Nick stared at her.
A heavy impact struck the door.
Then another.
He got up.
And ran.
Nick reached the examination room.
The young man stood when he entered.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re getting out of here.”
Nick helped the teenage girl off the medical bed.
The elderly woman approached him.
“Where’s Dr. Carter?”
Nick looked away.
“Come on.”
He led them toward the emergency access corridor.
A security door blocked their way.
Nick placed Evelyn’s device against the reader.
ACCESS DENIED.
He tried again.
ACCESS DENIED.
Footsteps echoed behind them.
The young man turned.
“They’re coming.”
Nick examined the device.
A small display illuminated.
AEON SYSTEM
EMERGENCY AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED
Nick looked at the screen.
“Come on. Come on!”
A new message appeared.
IDENTITY CONFIRMED.
NICHOLAS ANDREW JOHNSON.
ACCESS GRANTED.
The door opened.
Nick stared at the display.
Then he pushed the others through.
They emerged into an underground parking garage.
Nick found an emergency exit leading to the street.
He pushed the door open.
Cold air struck his face.
Manhattan.
The city continued around them as though nothing had happened.
Cars passed.
People walked along the sidewalks.
Somewhere in the distance, a police siren sounded.
The young man approached him.
“What do we do now?”
Nick looked at the others.
“I don’t know.”
His phone vibrated.
A message.
Adrian Vale.
“Nick. Whatever you do, don’t go home.”
Nick stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
“You’re not the only one.”
He looked up.
Across the street, a black car had stopped.
Its rear window lowered.
A man inside was watching him.
Nick recognized his face.
It was the man from the photograph in the medical report.
The man who had pronounced him dead.