The Mind Virus

Chapter 4 - Part 2

Terry's newfound avarice fought with his suspicious nature. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.

"Of course, I can't force you to do anything. You don't have to take the bonus. You can sing your song for the world instead."

Terry couldn't tell if this was some sort of bluff, but he didn't want to risk it. "Hold on now, I didn't say anything like that. I was just curious."

"Of course you were, my boy. It's not like there's anything to tell anyway, right?" Mr. Bach playfully elbowed Terry in the ribs. If the man's eyes hadn't relaxed, Terry might have assumed it wasn't quite so playful.

"So where do I sign?"

"Initials on every page, signature on the last."

Terry skimmed through the document briefly, but saw nothing out of the ordinary in it. His suspicion seemed to be entirely misplaced, or was that just the greed talking? He didn't care. He did everything that was asked of him, finishing with his name at the bottom of the last page.

"That's lovely," Mr. Bach beamed, his smile wide as ever, looking as if his face was tearing in two. "If you don't mind, Terrence, I'll just quickly take some photos of the signed documents." He pulled his phone out. "The big wigs want them as soon as possible. Apparently waiting for me to drive back to the office is not an option."

"Go for it. Hey, it looks like we've got the same phone." Terry pulled his out of his pocket.

Mr. Bach finished taking his photos and looked at the phone in Terry's hand. "Are you sure about that? I think my one's ever-so-slightly bigger."

"I don't think so. Here, put yours next to mine." Terry placed his phone face-up in the middle of the table.

Mr. Bach did the same. "Well, would you look at that. Exactly the same. You've got a good eye, Terry. I suppose that's what made you so good at our little job." Bach looked up from the phones at Terry, and an expression of almost fatherly concern seemed to wash over his face. "So how have you been lately?"

"How do you mean?"

"You know, are you feeling all right?"

"Uh, I think I've got some sort of flu, but it's really mild. Nothing to write home about."

Bach opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. For a man who was so good at keeping a false face all the time, he wasn't very good at hiding his hesitation. He tried to speak again. "How have you felt, you know, emotionally, mentally?"

"I suppose I'm not in top form. A side-effect of the flu, I'm guessing." He paused. "I've been feeling kinda bad, lately. Like I'll just be reflecting on a memory, and a negative feeling will wash over me or something, I don't know." There was another moment of silence. "I – I'm sure it's nothing."

"Of course, son, of course." Now it was Bach's turn to pause. He took in a deep breath. "If I can offer you some advice, you're better off not saving or investing the money you'll be getting. Have a good time. Go on holiday. Eat at fancy restaurants."

Terry chuckled. "With respect, sir, that's not very good life advice. I'll end up back where I started in no time if I just fritter the money away."

"And you could spend a lifetime living frugally and saving for the future, and never get to live in that future."

"That's a bit dark, don't you think? No one's immortal, but that doesn't mean we have to live each day like it's our last. Not financially, at least."

There was a kindness in Bach's eyes that Terry hadn't seen before. "All I'm saying is that this bonus you're getting is a windfall of sorts. Don't play by the same rules as you would with a regular salary."

"But I have to. Seeing as my job is over, I no longer have a regular salary. And don't even get me started on my student loans." Terry laughed sourly.

"I obviously can't tell you what to do, Terrence. It's your money. Just take my words into consideration, all right? If you want to save some, why not do half and half? Put twenty-five grand in the bank; use the other twenty-five grand on yourself."

"Now that's a good temptation. You're like a little devil on my shoulder. I'll see."

"That's fine. Well, I shall be leaving you then, my boy. Do take care, and again, think about what I've said." Mr. Bach snatched up his phone as he stood up.

"Yes, will do. And thank you once again for everything. I don't need to tell you this, but it really is a life-changing amount of money." Terry grabbed the remaining phone.

"No worries. So long, Terrence." Bach gave one last toothy smile over his shoulder before leaving the room.

Terry wondered why the company man had seemed so concerned and hesitant toward the end. It was disconcerting to see someone so otherwise in control of their emotions and outward appearance suddenly seem so down. He regretted not having asked Mr. Bach what was wrong, but he supposed he had been too dazzled by the hefty bonus being dangled in front of his face to think about that.

*

Terry had just stretched out on the bed in his dorm when the phone in his pocket made a noise. It wasn't Terry's normal text message tone. He pulled it out and read the new message.

"Documents all received. Thanks."

An amused snort escaped his throat. They'd picked up the wrong phones.

Terry, not being the inquisitive type, had no intention of reading through Mr. Bach's texts, but while navigating outside of the last text message and onto the menu with all the rest of the messages, the preview of the last one that the man had sent to his employer stood out to him. It made his stomach drop.

"Terrence Howell will be dead within a few weeks."