The Upside of Death

Keera Makes a Movie. Part 7

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Keera lay chained and spread-eagled on a bed in a motel with three strange men and fought back panic. She knew she had to stay in control of herself to understand her position and figure a way out. She calmed herself with breathing techniques and by visualizing a protective light around her. Once she’d settled herself she began to think the situation through.

Her father. They were holding her because of her father, Nelson Miles. Chief Operating Officer at Prime Resources Corporation, one of the top 20 oil and gas companies in the world. He oversaw which independent companies were awarded contracts for construction and maintenance of drilling rigs. The whole subject of energy from oil was so distasteful to her that she rarely asked him about his work during their infrequent meetings, but she knew these contracts were worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

Dozens of companies would make bids, all of them targeting her father and other executives, trying to sway their opinions. 

“If bribery was legal,” her father once said in mock wistfulness, “I could have stopped working years ago.” She was sure he never would have accepted a bribe. He was a straight-up kind of person, at the top of his career, inexplicably part of an industry that bent rules and applied shifting values to achieve one aim: to suck oil and gas out of the ground.

Everybody regarded him as a nice guy all round, but as a father he had the parenting skills of a doorstop. Always distant, awkward with kisses and hugs, and she learned not to seek affection. His work was his life. His English wife, her mother, realized that her own interests were well served in this. She was rewarded with wealth and position and used it to spend her days lunching and shopping. 

Keera’s tales of the dead that chatted to her fascinated her friends. But she lost them when her parents moved to new postings around the world. She became reluctant to form friendships that vanished as fast as they formed. As a result, she decided, she had never become familiar with intimacy.

Bardo brought Zach to her. We like him, you need him, he said. She protested but found they clicked, sort of. He strode into her life, a wisecracking kind of guy, sure of himself, with a thrusting eagerness to explore the world, particularly its darker aspects. He brushed aside her aloof exterior, reached into her heart and stayed. She liked him, more than a lot, and often wondered if she loved him. Wasn’t sure what that would feel like.

“You’re such a loner,” he pointed out. “I feel I hardly know you after six months together.”

In a rare confessional moment, she blurted out a truth. “I don’t expect anyone to stay around for long, I keep myself prepared for that.”

The flash of hurt in his eyes disappeared with a flurry of grins and wisecracks. She was surprised at his instant reaction, surprised also that she felt his pain. His pain was now hers; this was new. Required thoughtful consideration.

Zach’s wariness of psychic matters was tempered by what he observed; he respected her abilities, but probably wished she didn’t have any. 

Too late now. “I’ve never had a choice about my life,” she said. “I was born like this, I will die like this.”

Now, her abilities were all that she had to protect her.

The Russians planned to video her and send the image to, whom? Not her father. Another person. The key figure in this. Somebody who wanted to pressure her father. That meant they wanted to swing a deal their way. A big deal for sure, worth millions. She assumed they had tried the bribery route already and found it unsuccessful. A kidnapping might work better than a bribe. No parent could ignore a kidnapped child, even one they didn’t want. If the kidnapping came to light, any parental hesitation would be also exposed; the media backlash would be savage. Her father would know that. He would have no choice but to agree to the kidnapper’s deal.