Journey's End

“Another day, another dollar,” Nick sighed as he cleared the files from his desk, preparing to leave for the night. Before he shut down his computer, he checked his e-mail one last time. Chock full of inter-departmental memos and announcements as it was, he almost didn’t see the unusual message nestled among them.

“Death is your shadow,” the cryptic message began. “Exit the building with care or it may become your companion. Forget your vehicle, for it can only lead to an early retirement. Games such as these are best played afoot anyway. Hurry to reach the Winner’s Circle at the end before you or your time expires. It can be found three miles north of your current position within the boundaries of Paradise Park.” Journey’s End was the signature at the bottom of the e-mail, matching the name listed as the sender.

“Kids,” Nick grunted, thinking of the young techno-geeks from the computer support department who he overheard talking of their Halo game parties and weekend paintball tournaments. Locking the door to his office, he made a mental note to speak with the department head about their personal use of the company’s e-mail system.

Mere seconds after Nick pushed through the door to the parking garage he dove to the pavement as the sound of gunfire echoed around him. Nick’s first thought was to jump up and race to his car, but the grim warnings of the e-mail popped in his head and he ran to the street instead. Once he reached the street, he turned north and raced off in search of whatever this Winner’s Circle was, praying as he ran that he would live long enough to find it….

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“Pretty suspicious,” Detective Bill Johnson observed as he looked at the scene before him. Quickly snapping crime scene photos and jotting down notes, Detective Jake Anderson just shook his head at partner’s uncommon knack of stating the obvious. Reading over what he had written, he tried to block out his partner’s continuing monologue long enough to determine if he had everything he needed. “Seven rich stiffs, now all stiff, left their fancy offices and cars behind, ran a few miles on foot and came to their eternal rest in a park with their bodies laid out in a circle and no signs of being shot, stabbed or beaten. Think we can chalk this one up to an overdose of excercise and call it a night?”

“Unfortunately, no, considering the business card placed at the center of the circle,” Anderson replied, watching the crime scene technicians load the man named Nicholas Hallstrom into a body bag. Verifying that the toe tag matched the victim, he signed off on the coroner’s report.

“What was the name on that card?” Johnson asked. “X-treme Living, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Anderson replied. “Zip him up,” he told the technicians as he thought to himself that this was going to be a very long night.