Big Data: A Startup Thriller Novel

Chapter 81

Doug made me drive. He pointed a gun at my head the whole time. He sat with Phillip in the back, sticking Alex in the passenger seat. He told me to go north on Highway 101. There wasn't much traffic at first, even for a Sunday afternoon. It was overcast and gloomy. Half an hour later, as we approached San Francisco, the fog was in full force. The sun hadn't managed to burn through it yet. The thicker the fog, the slower the traffic.

Once we were in San Francisco, the traffic was stop-and-go. I couldn't see more than two cars in front of me. Alex asked where we were going, and Doug hit him hard on the side of the head with the gun. I yelled, turning to see bright-red blood gushing from Alex's head.

We were getting close to the Bay Bridge, and Doug told me to take the exit for Cesar Chavez Street. I did so, following the street until it hit Pier 80. It looked like a construction zone, but it was also full of shipping containers. Nobody was there working. Or if they were, I couldn't see them through the fog.

"Turn right," said Doug. "Then stop at the last shipping container on the right."

I shouldn't have let it get this far. I should have tried to jump Doug in the park—people were watching. They could have done something. Maybe Phillip could have shot him. Maybe he still could.

I stopped the car, and Doug got out.

"All right, everyone, get out nice and easy. No sudden moves or I'll shoot all of you."

Alex laughed.

"You find something funny, old man?"

The bleeding on his head had stopped.

"You're going to shoot us either way, aren't you? Sudden moves or no?"

I watched Phillip climb out of the backseat. Doug wasn't paying him any attention; he was glaring at Alex. Phillip's eyes were locked on mine. He was patting his pocket again. This time, I nodded.

"That's not true. Despite what you may think, I'm not a monster. Even though you three have caused me incessant headaches of late, I'm not one to do the dirty work myself."

I watched Phillip fumbling with the gun stuck in his pocket.

"Then what are you going to do with us out here?" Alex asked.

"Aren't you the curious one? You know what curiosity did to the cat, right?"

Then Doug looked over at me. I turned my head as quickly as I could, but it was too late. He knew where I was looking. He turned toward Phillip, just as Phillip managed to pull the gun from his pocket. But Doug shot first.

Phillip didn't move. He stood there as still as a redwood. The warning shot had hit just an inch away from his foot, spraying red dust into the foggy air.

"Put that down," said Doug.

Phillip dropped the gun.

"Kick it over here."

Phillip kicked it. Doug picked it up.

"Now walk that way."

It was hard to see what he was pointing at through the fog. The sound of a plane filled the air. It must have been landing at SFO, but I couldn't see it. Then there was a gust of wind, which broke up the fog, and I saw a big orange machine come into view behind Doug. It looked like a rectangular box with all its walls taken off. We walked over to it. Phillip slipped on the gravel and fell to the ground.

"Get up," yelled Doug.

Phillip didn't move. Doug approached him.

"Are you? Really? Stop crying. You're like a little girl. A little fat girl. Look—even Luna's not crying. Come on, pull it together."

Doug lifted him up off the ground, and forced him to keep walking. Doug pulled a zip tie out of his back pocket and tied Phillip's wrists behind his back.

As I got closer to the machine, I could finally make out what it was. It was a crane. Built to pick up shipping containers and load them onto trucks or trains. It was huge. I glanced over at Alex. His eyes were empty, registering no emotion at all. He just stared straight ahead. He wouldn't even look at me.

"Do you recognize this place, Luna?" asked Doug.

I didn't respond.

"You don't, do you? Were you even paying attention during those board meetings? This was the first client Thor closed all on his own. We overhauled all of their management tools and monitoring software, and installed the Ancien platform. You don't remember that?"

I vaguely recalled what he was talking about but said nothing.

"It was Ancien technology that saved this place from being shut down. Thor's kind of a big deal here. A folk hero. Or he was, I guess." Doug let out a deep laugh. "I want to share with you a little-known fact. It's something you wouldn't have been able to know on your own. This also happens to be one of Gaia's first confirmed kill sites. This very crane, in fact. Thor was so proud when we were finally able to confirm that it worked. In a way, it's rather poetic that you will be dying this way."

"What way is that?" asked Alex.

"You've got balls, old man, I'll give you that. Still asking questions after that beating I gave you in the car. That takes, how would you say it, Luna? Cojones?"

Doug went over to Alex and pulled out another zip tie. Alex held out his arms at a strange angle as Doug tightened the zip tie around his wrists.

Then Doug went to the crane, still pointing the gun vaguely in our direction. Doug lifted a service panel and slowly began typing on a console with one hand. The gun waving around. Back and forth. I looked at Alex again. He still wouldn't look at me. Phillip was still crying, but silently now.

"Well?" said Alex.

Doug turned away from the control panel. His face was flushed red; he looked furious.

"This isn't the movies," he barked. "You don't get to know shit about shit. You just get to know that you're going to be dead soon, so shut up and let me finish."

Doug turned back to the console. The gun was wavering back and forth—not pointed toward any of us. Just pointing at empty space. I turned to Alex. Now he was looking straight at me. The crane started moving with a loud crash of noise. Alex made a motion with his hand. I knew what it meant. I started running.