 
### Evenstad Media Presents

## THE PARK

## VOSS FOSTER
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is entirely coincidental or beyond the intent of the author.

The Park © Voss Foster 2015

Cover art © Dar Albert 2015

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

Requests to use the material will be considered and may be directed to:

Voss Foster at: vossfoster@gmail.com
For my mother, who believed in me when I couldn't.
Sir or Madam,

You are receiving this letter because you have been selected by Evenstad Media to fill one of twelve exclusive roles in season one of our new reality show, The Park. You have already been collected, your information processed, and delivered to the set. Please do not attempt to leave the arena without explicit permission.

Your goal during your engagement at The Park is simple: survive. There is no time limit. Furnishings have been provided, as well as an ample food supply. However, the food supply will not be replenished. Use it wisely.

Around your neck, you will find a golden medallion. This medallion is a Controlled Energy Storage Unit from Evenstad Technologies. They were created specifically for your usage during your stay at The Park. Depress the button on the side to release the stored energy. When the energy is depleted, the light on the back of the medallion will turn red. When the energy has replenished, the light on the back of the medallion will turn green. The energy from the medallion cannot be released until the light has turned green. There are other Energy Storage Units hidden around the arena to aid you in your survival.

The arena will be monitored fully at all times in order to capture the true essence of game play for the viewers. Further details of recording and broadcast were explained in your release clauses.

No criminal charges shall be filed against any action(s) performed during the duration of your participation in The Park. All city, county, state, federal, and/or international laws are to be considered suspended during your time here.

The arena will remain closed until only a single player remains alive. The winner will receive twenty million (20,000,000) dollars (USD). The families of the losers will be provided for.

In your pocket, you will find a tablet and detachable keyboard for you to keep a journal. While this is not required by the rules of The Park, it is recommended. Extended periods of time spent in the arena may cause psychological trauma. Our experts believe that writing a journal may help to keep the mind sharp and stave off the possible ill effects of your stay.

No other information will be provided, so as to protect the integrity of game play.

We wish you the best of luck,

Evenstad Media
Channel 696: THE PARK: 9 p.m. EST: A daring new game show. Twelve contestants. No laws. Only one rule: survive.
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/1/2074

Don't know where the hell I am. I remember going to bed last night. When I woke up, I was laying on the grass in a trailer park with a letter pinned to my chest. Apparently I'm playing some kind of fucking game. I know I sure as hell didn't sign up for any reality show. Date on this tablet says January first. Happy fucking New Year to me, I guess.

If I thought they had the means, I'd have guessed it was Nina and Dan playing another joke on me. Wouldn't have been the first time they'd dragged me out of bed and left me lying around. But one: this wasn't New York and two: the medallion thing around my neck. I did what the letter said and pressed the button. It made fire. Not like a lighter, more like a bonfire in my hand. Couldn't guess how that works.

But if that was true, can I take any chances second-guessing anything else in that crazy ass letter? So I found somewhere to stay. I found an empty trailer, got inside, and locked the door. There's food, water, and power. I don't see where surviving's going to be all that hard like this. Makes a handheld bonfire pretty fucking useless, though.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/1/2074

This is big time stuff. I've been kidnapped, best as I can tell. There was a door open on one of the trailer houses and I went inside. I searched and didn't see anyone, so I'm hoping I'm good. Or as good as I can get when I'm being held prisoner.

But the thing around my neck is the bigger worry for me. There've been rumors online about CESUs, and most people figured Evenstad would be the one to figure out how it worked, if anyone could. Apparently they have. I pressed the button and it lit up the dark all around me. About two yards, if I were guessing. As bright as if the sun was shining. That's when I went inside. Didn't need any attention drawn to me.

But if mine could do that, and there are at least eleven more in here with me, being used by God knows who... it's just not something I'm ready to face.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/1/2074

I'm freaking out. I mean, I know I don't need to tell myself that I'm freaking out, but I just did. That's how bad it is. I woke up in the middle of the street and found a letter stuck to my shirt. Apparently I'm in some arena, playing The Park. Whatever The Park is. I've never heard of it. But I've never actually heard of anyone getting drugged up and taken away, either. Not outside, like, the news and movies and shit. But I figure that's what had to have happened, because I don't remember anything. I was at my dad's boss's stupid New Year's party. I went out back for some air, and then I was here. Well, out there. I guess the whole place is a trailer park. An empty trailer park. I went inside one of the trailers. Haven't tried the necklace thing they gave me yet. I don't know if I want to, though. Not if I don't know what it does. Rule of life: find out what it does before you turn it on.

ENTRY END
Dear Valued Evenstad Media Customer,

Thank you for your interest in our newest program, The Park. If you haven't yet seen it, what's stopping you? Last week's episode will be available until next Monday on http://evenstadmedia.com/watch/thepark.

If you're a fan of the show, we thank you again. Evenstad Media has always been devoted to providing our customers with the best possible entertainment. That's why we're offering you a free month of The Park: 24/7.

The Park: 24/7 is your full access pass to uncensored, unrated footage from The Park. See what angle you want with one of over 2,000 cameras. Relive your favorite moments and find new ones, all for the low price of $7.95/month. And if you don't like it after the free trial, or you ever become dissatisfied, you can cancel at any time. No fees, fines, or charges.

For more information, or to sign up for The Park: 24/7, call our Customer Service Hotline at 1-888-003-8000 Monday-Friday, 8 a.m.-8 p.m. EST

And again, from us, thank you,

Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/2/2074

I know you're reading this, Evenstad. Anyone egomaniacal enough to kidnap a dozen people definitely wants to see what they have to say after the fact. Guess what? I don't care. I know better than to put down anything I don't want you to know. But here's what you already know: I'm in a house. I'm fed. I've slept. I'm warm. And I tried out the medallion, too. I don't know how you can make this thing do what it does, but I'm grateful for it. I can do good things with this. Always thought telekinesis would be a bitchin' skill. This is probably about as close as I'll ever get. Hardly any effort on my part to use it, too. But you knew that, didn't you?

Watch away, boys.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/2/2074

I am not certain of any of this. It seems as though I am dreaming, yet I know that I'm not so creative as to dream something like this. I am just a simple watchmaker.

I have not yet explored far. All I have seen are mobile homes. So I cannot say for certain if my Natalie is here with me. But I don't believe she is. I would say that she is still safely back home in London. My leaving for the States was her blessing. Rather I lose her than to have her spirited away here into the unknown.

If the letter speaks the truth, then this game, whatever it may be, is one of survival. And if this is a game of survival, then I fear that I am ill-suited to play. I have been lucky for my eighty-one years. The medications I take are minimal, compared to others my age. I have avoided some of that fate, thankfully. But I will not, I fear, avoid time. Any day now could be my last, even in the best of situations. And now this.

My fingers ache with arthritis, but I will keep this journal. I served time in the Third War and there, my journaling kept my sanity until I could return to Natalie. So here, I hope, it should preserve it for me once more.

My only relief is that, should I die here, and should these people keep to their word, Natalie and the children shall be cared for. There is little more that I could ask for but that.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 12DAVID

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/2/2074

Yesterday was uneventful. I meant to write a journal entry, but nothing seemed important enough to warrant documentation. This might be the wrong idea. The journals are meant to keep us sane, so maybe I should be keeping up on it, eventful day or not. There isn't much else to do, really. I seem to have calmed down today, which is good. Yesterday was nearly too much for me. What is this place? Why me? What game are we playing? I know it must be some fabrication, but from who?

I need to stop doing that. All the questions were what caused my problems yesterday. I couldn't stop them. And so I didn't move. I still haven't eaten, and I don't remember the last time I did before coming here. A lot of the days leading up to finding myself here are fuzzy.

But this morning, I left the house. That's when I found the boy. Maybe in his mid-twenties. He was probably more scared than I was. It was good for me, being able to take care of someone. It got me to thinking. No matter what, we're here, at least for the time being.

The boy shakes. He's been in one of the bedrooms shouting for the past few hours. I don't know if it's a disorder or drugs, but I don't think he'll make it alone. I can take care of him until we figure this out.

Tomorrow, after food and more rest, we'll go look around outside to see what we can see. Hopefully, we'll find out the punch line to this joke.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/2/2074

I'm frightened. Must keep the medallion close and keep it charged as much as possible. The recharge is slow. Twenty million dollars is enough to keep you happy for life. If you survive. More than enough to kill for. The others have figured it out or they will. Either way. That's why I need the medallion. Twenty million is enough for me to kill, too. So is my life. I don't understand anything, and I don't care to find out. None of it matters. The goal of this is survival, which means that some won't survive. And I simply don't want that to be me. That's all I need to understand.

ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Kathy Horstmann <khorstmann@evenstadtech.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Project: The Park

SENT 3/19/2072 AT 4:26 p.m. EST

Mr. Evenstad,

We've completed work on the final CESU. That makes forty in all. I realize that we've had the argument before, but I would be foolish not to voice my concerns a final time. The CESUs are incredibly dangerous, even when activated in controlled testing situations like those in the labs here. Putting them in the hands of civilians is even more dangerous. I urge you to reconsider.

Kathy Horstmann,

Lead Lab Technician, Evenstad Technologies

—

TO: Kathy Horstmann <khorstmann@evenstadtech.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Project: The Park

SENT 3/19/2072 AT 4:58 p.m. EST

Ms. Horstmann,

Your concerns have been duly noted and will be considered at the final board meeting tomorrow. While you cannot be present at the meeting, you are welcome to send any and all information on the CESU project that you feel would be pertinent. Please send them in the standard format before 5 p.m. today. Otherwise, they will not be able to be considered.

Thank you and your team for all your hard work on this project,

Niels Evenstad,

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
TO: Kathy Horstmann <khorstmann@evenstadtech.com>

FROM: Veronica Daniels <vdaniels@evenstadtech.com>

SUBJECT: Employee Evaluation

SENT 3/20/2072 AT 8:12 a.m. EST

Ms. Horstmann,

You are receiving this message to inform you of an upcoming meeting with Mr. Evenstad regarding a recent employee evaluation. Please arrive at Mr. Evenstad's office by 10:00 a.m.

Veronica Daniels,

Administrative Assistant to Frederick Evenstad
JOURNAL 12DAVID

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/3/2074

Nathan left bruises on my arms. I can't blame him though, can I? I mean, I about wet my pants anyway, when I heard it. The alarm was so loud, my ears rang for fifteen minutes afterward. And that voice. It filled the whole sky and rattled my bones. I always thought that was just an expression. Even a teacher can learn, though, right?

"This is your only warning. Step away from the perimeter."

And then the alarm again. Three blasts of the siren followed by the echo. For a moment or two, I'd even worried about waking people up. It was still dark in here. It was always dark in here, actually. We had to have been fully enclosed, was all I could figure. I mean, there was some light, enough to see. But not enough to see that well unless you have the trailer lights to see by.

I'd taken Nathan out with me. I didn't feel like I could trust him alone. But I'm paying for it. And the fully stocked house has no pain meds, either. At least he stopped screaming. A blessing of sorts.

Someone doesn't want us to leave. And I worry, as clear as they made it, what would happen if we tried. Is it an electric fence? Barbed wire? Worse than that? I sit there, wondering, but what good does it do?

I have to check on Nathan. He's starting to make noises again. Not screaming. Whimpering. Whimpering is bad, but it's different. I'm hoping it means some sort of change in him. Relaxation, maybe. The poor kid.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/3/2074

This is unacceptable. The racket today pushed me over the edge. I even fired off a shot with that medallion thing. Have to use the back door to this place from now on. The front is totally useless.

Apparently, someone didn't read the letter. Perfect. Idiots. I guess I'd rather compete against them than someone intelligent, though. Do not attempt to leave the arena. How hard is that? Basic, English directions. Maybe they didn't speak English. I don't know. Haven't seen anybody else in the two days I've been here. In fact, the alarm was the first sign of life I've come across, besides grass.

I'm hoping that no one else tries to emulate the great escape artist today. Or tomorrow. Never again would be preferable. That alarm is too much.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 01NATHAN

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/3/2074

It's been three days. I haven't had a hit in three days. But right now, I'm able to think. No scratching, no stomach pains. But they'll come back. They always come back. Always until I get another hit. Always.

It's going to hurt. I can't go through withdrawals. I tried. Everyone knows I tried. Four times, I tried to get off the flick. Rehab, psychiatrists, doctors, interventions.

Flick, flick, flick, flick.

Shit. I'm starting to lose my thoughts again. I just... I need a hit.

ENTRY END
TO: Marta Evenstad <mevenstad@evenstadenterprises.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: Agriculture

SENT 12/29/2073 AT 11:53 a.m. EST

Sister,

Within the next year, your promotion will be official. We will of course have to wait for the best time to announce everything to the public, but I assure you it won't be long. In the meantime, we've opened up applications to fill the necessary positions for your company. Please review them and make the best decisions you can. More than anything else, the success of this venture will assure our family security. If we can provide food for even slightly lower than the other companies in the game, we'll have the advantage, and we'll have the control. From there, we build up our resources. But we need you to get us the land, Marta.

I wish you the best of luck, dear sister,

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 08DESIREE

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/4/2074

God, I can't stand it. No more of this dark. I feel like I'm half blind. The only time I feel remotely like myself is in the trailer. But that's not making anything any better. Believe me, God, I'm thankful that You've provided me with so much: shelter, food, water, blessed light. But I know that the endless dim is still out there waiting for me. And I'm not going to think about the things that could be in there. I'm not. I know You'll see me home safe, Lord. That's all I've got that keeps me going, and I thank You for that, too. And I thank You for the medallion You had them give to me. I know this ain't anything that a man could put here on Earth. You've given me the power to disappear. Only for a few seconds, but it has saved me. When I disappear, I know that nothing in that darkness can do anything to me.

I praise you, Lord.

Amen.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/4/2074

When I woke up this morning, I was breathing, not screaming. It's good. The screaming was bad. I just knew that there was something coming. Then came the crying. I still did that this morning, but no screaming. I wasn't convinced that I would see someone looming over me. I wasn't convinced that I needed to clutch to the medallion, ready to release whatever was inside. That slicing thing.

I hope its progress. Maybe it would be years. Maybe it would just be until we died off. I have no family left to worry about, only a few friends who really matter. I could die here, as long as it was natural. But I won't be killed. I don't want death to hurt. I don't want to keep screaming.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 09TINA

ENTRY 001

DATE: 1/5/2074

I finally saw my first person. They were outside my window. I just caught a glimpse of them running past. Nothing else. But that means that there definitely are other people here. It's no longer a theory. Which means the danger is no longer a theory, either. I'm not the kind of person who gets paranoid and jumpy, but every little sound out there is definitely someone. That's what my brain keeps telling me, anyway. Even the sounds that I know and recognize must be someone.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 12DAVID

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/5/2074

I've lost Nathan. I don't know what the issue was, but when I woke up this morning, he was gone and his window left open. The poor kid probably doesn't even know what's going on. I assume he read the letter, since it wasn't on his shirt when I found him. But I can't say that with any level of certainty.

I have to go look for him. I'm still determined to keep this kid safe, if I can. And right now I can. I hope I can, anyway.

ENTRY END
TO: Richard Appleby <rappleby@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Suzanne Young <syoung@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: Welcome

SENT 10/23/2073 AT 9:17 a.m. EST

First of all, congratulations on your new position with Evenstad Media. I'm sure you will enjoy yourself.

Mr. Niels Evenstad, our COO, has asked me to remind you of the privacy policy attached to your position. You are to speak to no one of your work, as it could compromise the integrity of the project. The full privacy policy will be attached below to ensure you have a copy.

After your initial training, you will be sent to the undisclosed filming location. Room and board will be provided for the duration of your stay. Please make any and all necessary preparations between then and now, as the length of your stay is as yet undetermined. No Internet access will be provided while there, and only limited phone calls, monitored by the head of security.

As a special caveat of your particular position, your marksmanship will be tested monthly. Should you fall below the eighty-fifth percentile in accuracy, you will be granted a one month grace period. If, after that month, your marksmanship still ranks below the required accuracy, your employment will be terminated and you will have no chance for rehiring.

If you have any questions before you leave, please email the pertinent department. If you don't know which department to ask, send the email to me and I will forward it to the appropriate party. I will also attach a list of email addresses for your ease.

I hope you enjoy working for Evenstad Media as much as I have,

Suzanne Young

Administrative Assistant to Niels Evenstad
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/5/2074

The alarm went off again today. I was close enough to the edge to watch. Whoever was approaching the wall was just a boy, and he ran as though something vile was after him. He seemed so desperate, I chose not to follow for fear of attracting his attacker. But now, how I wish I had followed. Perhaps I could have stopped him. Instead, I watched, waiting for whatever or whoever to strike. He ran, ignoring the final three blasts of the siren.

I heard the cocking of guns from above as he got closer.

I tried to shout a warning after him. He didn't hear me. A muzzle flare sparked at the top of the wall. I expected the boy to crumple at any moment, but instead, the bullet pounded into the ground. The boy himself was gone.

A few feet closer to the wall, he reappeared. Two more muzzle flashes. That time, he fell. I felt like the third shot was unnecessary, but it, too, hit its mark. Not a difficult shot. He couldn't move to avoid it.

ENTRY END
Supporting the Grim Reaper: The Reality Behind Evenstad Media's 'The Park.'

1/9/2074 at 7:26 a.m. EST

Twelve contestants locked in a trailer park and outfitted with strange technology. Only one can leave alive. It sound like something you'd hear in a preview before watching this summer's next explosive, blood and gore blockbuster. But it's not. It's currently the second highest rated show on television, and the numbers suggest that it could take the top spot by next week.

But, after last week's episode, can we, as a nation, continue to watch? Should we encourage a company who just broadcast the murder of a twenty-four year old kid into millions of American homes? This blogger thinks not. I, for one, am already looking into alternate television providers. I can hope that others will join me.

'The Park' is only going to continue taking lives if we allow it. That's the premise, isn't it? Eleven _will_ die. And what of the twelfth, the single survivor? I'll eat my own cat if their 'winner' doesn't come out of this with severe psychological trauma, at the very least.

But what disturbs me most of all isn't even the fact that the show exists. We've always known that the bourgeoisie have depraved tastes. That should surprise no one. No, what disturbs me is how many people, how many members of the proletariat, have chosen to watch this. How many have chosen to buy extra products that Evenstad Media offers to enhance the experience for fans of their meat grinder. What does it say of us if we continue to watch this? With all of our technology, all of the great minds of the modern era, we find ourselves no better than the Romans, watching gleefully as victims are sent into the Colosseum for our pleasure.

I pray that my words won't fall on deaf ears. For my sake, for the sake of our country, but more than anything, for the sake of the eleven poor souls trapped in that hellish trailer park.

I don't know how they got these people to volunteer, or even if they did, but I will guarantee they weren't given much of a choice. Evenstad Media needs to be stopped dead, right now. And if we choose to, we can. We have the numbers. Rise up now, or fiddle as Rome burns.

Krax
JOURNAL 12DAVID

ENTRY 004

DATE: 1/7/2074

It's been two days since Nathan was shot. I wasn't sure if I would be able to go get him to bury him without being the next target, but I managed. Well, we managed. Manfred has been nothing but helpful this whole time. He's a sweet old man. Not the sort of person that should be here. But then again, neither am I. At least I don't think I am.

I looked through Nathan's journals after we buried him. It was flick withdrawals. Poor kid. I can't even start to imagine what detoxing must feel like. He was going through it on top of being in this place. If I was ever going to use the word torture and really mean it, I think now would be the time. It must have been real, honest torture.

As for Manfred, he and I are getting along decently. He didn't know Nathan, but he said some beautiful words over his grave. "Death is not hard for the dead. It is only the living who suffer. And today, with the loss of this young soul, all our world will suffer."

I don't know why it struck me so hard, but it did.

I tried to find his medallion, too, but it was missing. It was hard to see in the dark, though. I probably just missed it. I don't dare go back over there. I'm pretty certain that we were only granted that single bit of amnesty to move Nathan's body. Going back would probably get me shot, too.

Manfred and I will be staying in the house as much as possible. We both agree that it's for the best. But I'm still keeping my distance. I hate that I even have the thought, but it's possible that Manfred had a hand in Nathan's death. I wasn't there for it. I only came in on the end. And if he was willing to kill the kid, I hardly think his remorse would kick in over me.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/7/2074

Hello again, you lovely Evenstad Media people. How are the ratings on the new show? They should have gone up after that kid got shot, right? I admit, despite my intense belief that the wealthy have unlimited capacity for evil, I wasn't entirely sure you would go through and actually kill someone, if it came down to it. Kudos, I suppose. I have to admire your commitment to this project. But you've also confirmed to me that you are indeed horrible people. That kid wasn't even thirty, and you just shot him down dead.

But I guess it's all about horrible people for you. That's what this show will make us all into, by the end. Horrible murderous people, or the victims of horrible murderous people.

And, if you ever wanted a review in writing, I'll be nice: your little medallion energy things are wonderful. I managed to filch the kid's medallion when those two guys weren't paying attention. It seems like it might come in pretty handy.

Here I am, playing into your hands, stealing from the dead to get ahead in your twisted little competition. I just hope you got that on footage. Lord only knows what that could do to your ratings. Juicy shit, there. You're welcome.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/7/2074

I'm fucking tired of being all alone. So I'm out. I'm looking around for someone. I know it's a God damn idiot move, but they can't all be ready to gut me. Even I don't believe that shit. People are generally good, in spite of what it looks like ninety percent of the time. Probably the only time I'll ever admit to it, and no one's going to be seeing it. That doesn't mean I'm not ready to defend myself, though. My fire medallion thing may be useless as long as I have shelter and electricity, but I can sure as hell use it to put some fear in anyone who tries to mess with me. Not what I necessarily want to do. I mean, I'd be pretty fucking happy if I didn't have to touch the thing the whole rest of the time I'm here. But I doubt any of us will get that lucky.

ENTRY END
Famous Blogger Krax Dead

1/11/2074 at 8:18 a.m. EST

Famous journalist, blogger, and internet personality Leah Redmann, better known by the pseudonym Krax, was found dead on the Cynwyd Heritage Trail in Bala Cynwyd, Pennsylvania early this morning. Family and local law enforcement are declining comment. We will update this article as more information is made available to us here at The Cruise.

UPDATE: 1/11/2074 2:22 p.m. EST: Police have released a statement claiming a drug overdose as the cause of death.

UPDATE: 1/11/2074 9:06 p.m. EST: Inside sources reveal that Mrs. Redmann did have a prescription for hydrocodone/APAP (Vicodin). Our source tells us that all of the bottles found in Mrs. Redmann's home were empty.
JOURNAL 09TINA

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/8/2074

This paranoia is getting the better of me. I had to trek all the way across the trailer park today. I got scared of some sound outside the window. It was probably just a tree or a bush scratching or the walls settling. But I heard it and I freaked and aimed the medallion. So no more wall and no more privacy. It was so loud, my ears rang for a good two hours after the blast. I don't really know what it is this thing does, but I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. Got to make sure I don't lose it.

I wish they would turn on some lights. That's all I really need is light. But it's also really the last thing I need. It's enough that I have the lights on in this house. Light is too noticeable to get too attached to it. I hate it, but it's true. If someone finds me, I'd rather they be just as blind as I am. It'll give me a chance to escape.

I'm wondering how big this whole place is, too. I went quite a ways and didn't see another single person. The twelve of us could go a long time and never see each other. I just hope it works out that way.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/9/2074

I can tell that David is not fully comfortable with me. I cannot blame him for feeling that way. It is the nature of the situation in which we have been inserted. But to his credit, he has done a wonderful job of making me feel as welcome with him as he can, under the circumstances. We talk, and I feel myself falling into a sense of security. I feel as though he would protect me, and I believe that I would do the same for him, as best I could. Perhaps I am wrong and he only wishes to gain my trust so I do not see his attack coming. I can't worry about those things, now. It would be pointless to focus on such negativity. What I know is that I have someone to share a meal with when we are hungry, and someone to share words with.

We talk about many things. He is a schoolteacher. Grammar school. He is divorced with no children. We do not delve deep into the subject of our lives. I think it is too painful to go into the true joys and the true sorrows, the things that one or both of us shall never know again. So we touch only the very surface. I am content with having things this way.

The two of us have finally broken down. He, like I, had refused to use the strange medallions, even for the purposes of experimentation. But we both agree that we can't afford not to know any longer, with things as they are.

When David pressed his button, the medallion released a gas. I have never been attacked with pepper spray, but I imagine it would be something similar. The burn lasted in my lungs for at least an hour after he used it. My eyes watered, and I failed to choke back vomit.

As for my own, it proved somewhat less subtle. Like lightning, directed forward. The trailer I aimed at is still smoldering, some hours later. I do not like possessing such power, but I will not turn it down. It is too useful for that. I will simply pray that I never need that usefulness.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/9/2074

So far, everything's cool. I mean, okay, it's not, because this is all fucked up, but it's cool for being as fucked up as it is. I mean, I know this is totally stupid, and I wouldn't write it if I thought anyone but me would see this journal, but it's kind of exciting. It's like a video game, sort of. They even put powerups around the trailer park, apparently. Not that I've found any, yet, but that's what our letter told us. It's a good thing, because I don't know how useful just mine is going to be. It's better than nothing, but all it does is shoot out a spray of these little energy ball things. Kind of like a shotgun. And it takes probably ten seconds to fully recharge. Those little balls leave decent dents in the ground, but I don't know what it would do to a person.

God, I sound, like, sadistic or sociopathic or some shit. I don't want to hurt anyone. That's not what it's about. But I might have to. If I do, I want to make sure that I hurt them well enough that they don't hurt me back.

When I was a kid, I always kind of liked the idea of living in a video game. Who didn't think about it at some point, really? But it's not like I thought it would be. No one gave me any rules for this game. And it's not fun. It sucks ass.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 08DESIREE

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/9/2074

God, You in all Your wisdom have given me another gift. When I went to the windows to look at what was causing that noise, I was using the medallion to make myself invisible, in case anyone wanted to hurt me. And something told me that I should let it go and reveal myself.

Well, when I did, I found him. You sent me a companion to make my time here less lonely. A handsome young man named Justice. He was getting just as lonely as I was, and You made sure that we found each other.

He's a little foul-mouthed, but I accept it as another part of him. You knew all of this about him when You chose to send him to me, and I do not question Your endless wisdom. Perhaps I can even fix that fault.

I have prayed for a man to enter my life for many years, and wondered at times if my prayer was being ignored. But now I see how foolish that was. I should never doubt Your glory. This is never what I expected or even imagined, but I know You have a reason for doing things the way You have.

So I thank You for bringing us together. Together, with Your guidance, we will be able to survive all our trials.

Amen.

ENTRY END
TO: Dr. Matilda Grand <magrand@eu.edu>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Psychology: The Park

SENT 11/12/2071 AT 2:23 p.m. EST

Dr. Grand,

I have looked over your review of the psychological impact of our social experiment, and I am very pleased with your work. It was very thorough. I will be presenting it to the rest of the board here at Evenstad Media this coming Friday, and I would be very appreciative if you would join us. It would lend a certain credence to your conclusions that I alone would not be able to bring to the table.

If you choose to attend this meeting, please let me know as soon as possible. The company would cover your airfare, room, board, and any other expenses you may incur.

Hoping to hear from you soon,

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media

—

TO: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Dr. Matilda Grand <magrand@eu.edu>

SUBJECT: RE: Psychology: The Park

SENT 11/12/2071 AT: 4:03 p.m. EST

Mr. Evenstad,

I would be happy to take part in such a meeting. Although I'm not certain how you intend to make these people believe that they are killing each other, the possibilities are very exciting. This is a part of human nature that psychologists rarely have a chance to delve into.

In fact, I was hoping that I might be able to obtain your permission to release a paper on the experiment, when everything is over and done. We can talk about it in more detail when I see you tomorrow.

Dr. Matilda Grand

Head of Psychology, Evenstad University

—

TO: Dr. Matilda Grand <magrand@eu.edu>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Psychology: The Park

SENT: 11/12/2071 AT 4:39 p.m. EST

Dr. Grand,

Your flight will leave at 10 a.m. tomorrow. I hope that's not too short of notice. I doubt I have to tell you, but business attire will be required.

As for the paper, I can see no issue with it. It will, of course, have to pass by the rest of the board members, but approval seems likely.

I will also warn you now that you will have to sign a non-disclosure agreement. We can't have anyone involved with the project in its inception reveal anything before the program has aired. I'm sure you understand.

A driver will be there to pick you up tomorrow morning.

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/9/2074

I've been trying to get into this CESU, see what makes it tick. Hell, if I'm being honest, I'm hoping that there's a way to get out of here, if I can just find it. And my Master's in electrical engineering says that, if anyone here can, I can. Unless I'm not the only one here who's qualified. Still haven't met anyone else, yet. I guess it's possible that everyone here could be an electrical engineer. If that's the case, all the more reason to start in on it now, before someone else does the work.

At least, that was the thought. My main hurdle is the lack of any kind of tools. Food, I have. Water, electricity, heat, shelter, light. All of that's good. But there aren't any tools anywhere in this house, or the houses around it. Without tools, I'm kind of at a stopping point. I tried tearing up the walls, hoping to get something I could use, but everything broke. Hell, I don't even know if regular tools would work on this thing. I might need pneumatics. Which I really highly doubt whoever put us here would leave lying around.

But I really don't have anything else to do. So, I'm taking a bed sheet full of food, just in case something goes wrong, and I'm going looking, starting tomorrow. Maybe I can find something, anything.

ENTRY END
TO: Board Members <evenmediaboard@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: Tomorrow's Meeting

SENT 11/12/2071 AT 5:06 p.m. EST

This is in regards to the meeting of the board tomorrow. Dr. Matilda Grand will be in attendance. She is a psychologist, and has given a favorable enough review of The Park's psychological impact on the players that we should be able to push the program through without too much issue. However, she is under the impression that the contestant deaths will be somehow fabricated. It is important that she continue to believe this, so no slips of the tongue.

I will see you all tomorrow,

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/11/2074

I'm writing this down, because if I don't somehow get it on record, I don't think it's going to count. I need to make sure that I remember this and that it's going to stick.

I'm not cut out for this. I mean, I don't know if anyone's really cut out for this. You can't live like this, always wondering when you're going to be attacked, or when some mysterious kidnapper is going to come back and throw your whole life into chaos, again.

So I'm just going to go back to the way things were. I'm a line cook, and I haven't been to work in over a week. So this morning was sausage and some canned biscuits I found in the fridge. Just cooking like that and eating food that I actually put something of myself into, I feel better. I don't have any cleaning supplies, but there's a mop and some water. I'm going to do the best I can.

Dinner's already in the oven. There were some chicken breasts and canned potatoes, so I'm letting them roast.

This place is weird. It's like they just pulled all the people out of a trailer park, then stuck us in and closed it off. Everything's still here. But I know that's not true. All the bags and boxes and everything are full and unopened. But these Evenstad people went to a lot of trouble to make it feel like the real thing.

Enough of that. I'm not staying on track already. Cooking, cleaning, sleeping. Those are three things I know I can do.

As a final reminder to myself, in case I need it, the medallion is in the drawer in the nightstand. I'm not going to keep wearing it. It'll just remind me that I'm not actually at home even more.

ENTRY END
MINUTES: EVENSTAD MEDIA BOARD OF DIRECTORS MEETING

11/13/2071

PAGE 6

N. EVENSTAD (cont.): moneymaking machine.

S. CALDER: And the worst public image we'll have ever had.

N. EVENSTAD: Not if we play it right, Sarah. You know it's all in the marketing.

S. CALDER: And I know that marketing can only do so much. You're talking about a game where even the winner comes out in need of therapy. How do you think the public is going to react to that?

N. EVENSTAD: The same way they react to a car crash. They'll watch it, and then they'll keep watching as long as possible. Which is once a week. And the winner will be compensated a small fortune for their participation.

M. GRAND: I don't think the psychological trauma will be all that intense. That was one of Mr. Evenstad's key concerns when he presented the premise of the experiment to me. I won't say that the winner, or anyone, will come out of it in perfect mental health, but I hardly think anyone can expect that with an experiment of this nature.

N. EVENSTAD: You see. As I've told you all several times, I've been through the psychological ramifications of the experience in depth. In your folders, you'll find a complete copy of Dr. Grand's thoughts on the matter.

S. CALDER: I still don't agree with this, Niels.

N. EVENSTAD: You don't have to agree with it, Sarah. We've taken a vote. The show will go into production. And I am personally done humoring further discussion of this matter. There are more pressing things to go over.

D. YOSTER: I agree. My people have gone through the current proposal for this show and, according to the numbers that you have given as an estimate, there's hardly any profit in this for us.

N. EVENSTAD: I had your department run the numbers as well. And I agreed with you. Which is why I am making an addition to the initial proposal. Online content. Special, extended footage. Obviously, we'll have hundreds of hours of footage that we can't put into the weekly shows. But, for a small fee, any fan can have access to any of the footage our cameras record. I had your department run the numbers with that included, and the profits are considerably prettier to look at, even if only ten percent of our expected viewership subscribes to the program.

D. YOSTER: How much prettier?

N. EVENSTAD: An increase in profits of about seventy-five percent. Possibly more, depending on our final decisions on the matter.

D. YOSTER: That is impressive, Niels. But there are much more efficient ways of making more money on this program. I mean, the current proposal involves acquiring a truly massive amount of empty land, one-hundred mobile homes, and more than a years' supply of food for these twelve mystery contestants, plus electricity and water and construction costs. And these energy storage units. That's a six-figure cost alone.

N. EVENSTAD: I'm currently in negotiations with my brother Frederick. When this show airs, it will be an excellent chance for Evenstad Technologies to debut their technology. And there's no better stage than national primetime. I believe we can use that to get a greatly reduced price on the CESUs.

D. YOSTER: And the land? Leave alone the fact that we have to find empty land not owned by the government, the average cost of an acre is over ten-thousand, right now. Something has to be sacrificed, if this is to be a true moneymaking machine, as you claim.

N. EVENSTAD: I'm sure we can find a compromise.
JOURNAL 09TINA

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/11/2074

I can't take this crap anymore. I'm starting to see things, cooped up like this. I don't care if it's safe, according to logic. Logic obviously isn't working anymore. No matter what I tell myself, no matter what I actually know to be true, there's this big, heavy ball of fear and worry and angst and shit that just sits there in my stomach and grows and throbs.

I don't think there's any way out, either. I think this is my life, until I die. I tried to break out, but I wasn't willing to go out close to the edge and draw attention to myself. The medallion made a loud noise, but I had to try. I couldn't see, but I don't think I got anywhere close to the ceiling. I can't even see the ceiling. Probably too high up, anyway.

But I'm still stuck here, just waiting for something terrible to happen. I'm forcing myself to eat, right now, because I know that I need to keep putting fuel into my body. But I'm barely even tasting it, anymore. It's like I can feel myself fraying. Right now, it's small things, tears at the edges of my senses. But it's only going to work deeper and deeper. Something has got to change. Otherwise I'm not going to make it out of this hellhole intact. Of course, I still might not make it out intact, even if I can pull myself together. Not if only one of us can survive.

ENTRY END.
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/11/2074

In the end, it was the food that got me where I am. I could smell it on the air. I never learned to cook. I guess it got sacrificed for my career. Not that big of a deal, really. Except that I've spent nearly two weeks subsisting on tap water and canned vegetables. So, I admit it, I was weak. I smelled real, cooked food and I went for it. I was fully ready to attack whoever it was that had it, too. Luckily for both of us, it didn't come down to it. This Julia lady, she was willing to share her dinner with me. I'd actually say she was happy to share, which I don't get. Unless she wanted me to eat it. Flashing on the witch in the gingerbread cottage. Come eat my food so I can shove you in the oven.

That's why I ate in the living room, not with her in the dining room. She wasn't about to get anything over on me, if that was her intention. Really good chicken, though. I'm all around impressed with this lady. She's managing to keep her cool a hell of a lot better than I am. Which is pretty damn scary. She's carrying on life like nothing's going on. Which means she's got a reason to be confident. Or she's some kind of sociopath. Either way, not things I want in an opponent.

But, so far, she hasn't tried to kill me. After I finish up, I'm going to head to a new trailer so she can't find me. But she's already invited me back for breakfast. I'll probably come. If it's anywhere near as good as this dinner, I'll be more than satisfied. But I'll be keeping a good watch on her, too.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 002

DATE: 1/12/2074

I've set up defenses around the trailer. It's taken some time, but it's important. I have no tools, but I've torn apart pieces of the house to do what I could. I dug holes, made some makeshift nets from sheets, put some things around the door. I had to go to a few other trailers, get hinges, tear open mattresses for springs. Nothing is strong, but it will suffice. Good enough for me to get at them with the medallion.

I want that money. Twenty million dollars. I can hole up here and be just fine, too. No need to run about looking for people. Eventually, they'll find me. Will replan if I run out of food before then. Already gathered provisions from surrounding trailers. Should be able to stay here a while. Will improve traps and alarms tomorrow. Sleeping now.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/12/2074

I'm a fucking idiot. I'm letting everything get twisted around in my head. This Desiree, I think I like her too much. Not, like, loving kind of way or anything, but definitely something. She's hard not to like. She's kind and kind of broken, and I can't resist someone broken. I see so many broken people driving cab. So many people in general, but the broken ones stand out to me. Always have, and it's been known to get me in a lot of fucking trouble. When you get involved with broken people, things don't necessarily turn out for the best. Not in my experience.

And that's why I'm a fucking idiot. She's so broken, she believes in God. Honestly, how the hell can she believe in some benevolent, all-loving sky daddy when we've all been chucked in this fucking nightmare? I don't get it, and I just worry that she's not strong enough. And if I'm attached to her, however I'm getting attached to her, that's a weakness to me, too.

I'm doing my best not to let her get too close, or let me get too close. I don't think I can afford that. But I also don't think it's working. I keep finding myself wanting to spend time with her. I even thought about what would happen if someone attacked her. Trying to work it out so I could have some kind of rough escape from the whole thing, if escape was an option. But I kept on feeling this little tug in my guts. I want to fucking protect her. Just like I do with every other broken person I find. I try to protect them, and that's what gets me in trouble.

You'd think I'd learn my God damn lesson.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/12/2074

I just about died. I'm good. I think I'm good. But I can't really say anything for sure. I'm currently with the lady who wanted to kill me. I think I have her trust, but it's not really an auspicious way to start off a relationship.

I was still looking for tools, and hers was the next trailer in line. The lights were off, so I couldn't see a damn thing. That's where the problems started. She set up traps. Primitive traps, but pretty good, considering that she didn't have tools. Or she claimed she didn't have tools. I probably believe that claim, though. Haven't seen so much as a screwdriver in the whole time I've been out looking.

So I fell in a hole. And the lights came on. I saw a figure and I did the only thing I could think of. Closed my eyes and pressed the button on the medallion. I could see the brightness of it through my eyelids.

The hole was shallow enough that I managed to get out, but I didn't get away. Either she wasn't looking at the flash when it went off or she grabbed after the sounds I was making, or she just got really, really lucky, I don't know for sure. But she got hold of me. Threatened to burn straight through my head. Crazy jabber or justified threat, I wasn't going to take the risk. So I started talking. The only thing that came out of my mouth was shit about engineering. With the lights on in the trailer, I could see some of the traps and shit she'd put together. I started telling her how she could fix them. I don't know. I wasn't exactly in full control of myself.

Apparently, she liked what she heard. A little. Not enough to put the medallion down, but enough to let me go. She kept asking all these questions about the traps. I figured it was either come up with some possible fixes for her setup or find out what that medallion could actually do, so I talked. It was probably an hour. She didn't say much. Very concise. But I must have pleased her. She offered not to kill me if I could help her out. I wasn't entirely sure that I could. I mean, no tools, if I was to believe her. But I went for it.

So that's where I am: a silent room, sitting across from my captor. Or ally. I'm still a little fuzzy on the exact nature of our relationship. Fuzzy enough that I'm planning on keeping a sharpened up piece of metal siding in bed with me tonight. Just in case. But maybe I'll be okay. And once I get some alone time with her scrabbled together tools, I can break into the CESU and get the hell away. At least, that's my best plan right now. Which means I really am desperate.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/13/2074

I'm so happy that Christina came back again. It gives me more to cook for and I'm actually feeling pretty good. I feel useful. I haven't felt useful since I moved in here.

Christina's finally starting to relax, too. She actually took her jacket off for dinner, which is a big step. She looks like she takes care of herself. Her skin is a bit of a nightmare. She probably wore a lot of makeup. She looks like some kind of businesswoman, to me. Slacks, jacket, nice shirt. Like she just got yanked off the sidewalk on the way to some corporate skyscraper sort of job.

I think I could get used to having her around. I'm going to offer her one of the other bedrooms, after dinner. She can take whichever she wants. She's told me several times that she doesn't want to stay here. She doesn't trust me. But lately, she's not putting as much force behind the words. Or it's just my imagining it. I could see myself getting close to her, if she'll actually allow it. I think she will, too. It might take a little bit of time, a few more days, maybe a couple weeks. It seems to me that I have a lot of time to work her down. But I want to keep her around. She makes me feel good. Beyond the extra cooking I get to do with her around, too. She just kind of makes me feel good. And I like that.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 09TINA

ENTRY 004

DATE: 1/14/2074

I'm so lucky to be alive right now. But I am alive, and I have this Craig guy to thank for it. Not my stupid ass, that's for sure. I couldn't just hole up in my house alone anymore. I was weak, and I admit it. Rather than push through or find a way to stop the stupid, pointless paranoia, I ran away. At the time, I guess it must have made sense. I wasn't doing well in the house, so leave, right? Leave and run out into the huge death trap trailer park for everyone to kill me. At least I didn't go and use the medallion against a flutter in the wind. That kind of noise would have drawn everyone straight to me, I bet.

It didn't save me. I tripped over a hole and didn't think anything of it. But pulling away didn't happen. It was a snare. A painful snare. Whoever made it stuck some nails or tacks in there. As soon as it tightened, it drew blood. But when I fell, I didn't quite have the mental capacity to figure that out. All I could think was shit, shit, shit, shit, get away. And pulling like that just dug the sharp shit deeper into my ankle, which made me panic even more.

When the lights came on in a trailer, my head cleared. That's when I looked down and saw the snare around my leg. White fabric, twisted and knotted and reddening with my blood. I slid back, grabbed the knot, and pulled it loose. I saw a shadow come my way and yanked my foot out. Too late, though. I managed to get to my feet and raise up my medallion, but there was another one pointing in my face. The lady carrying it was a little dumpy looking, with totally unnatural red hair. I didn't get any more than that. Fear tends to blur things out.

I tried to threaten her, but I couldn't make words. I could see the difference between us, and it left me in a weaker position. Weak, weak, weak. My hand was shaking, but her medallion stayed even, aimed right at my head.

I don't remember exactly what she said, but it meant that I wasn't walking away. That's when I got my ass saved. I heard someone else coming and figured one or both of us were screwed. I was leaning toward whoever it was probably killing both of us.

But he put himself right in the middle. Him, I heard fine. That's how it always works, I figure. No one ever mishears their savior.

"Susan, just wait."

"All but one of us has to die. I don't want to go through you, but I will. You already did your part."

"She could help. She got out."

"Doesn't matter."

Bless him, I knew he was trying to help. But it was a snare. Who can't get out of a snare? At least once they see it. But he didn't give up.

"You don't know what she can do. She could be helpful."

"Two is already too many people. I won't have three."

I just started talking. I said anything I could. And all I could think about were the traps that I, like an idiot, had gotten into. In the light from her trailer, I could see things a little better. Simple things, but effective. More snares, some crude nets made out of fabric, holes, sharp things scattered around.

About the stupidest thing I could have done, but I started criticizing. The couple nets strung up in trees or from the eaves of the trailer were easy to cut or tear through. The holes weren't deep enough to do real damage, unless someone sprained an ankle. No alarms.

That got a reaction from Susan. "Plenty of alarms. You don't need to hear them."

Craig sighed. "Don't you think she can help us? She already found errors that I could fix."

I hadn't. This was about as good as I could think it would get, given the lack of any real tools. I never would have thought to make traps in the first place. That would have been a lot better than running around like an idiot in the dark.

Susan lowered her medallion. Kind of. It wasn't pointed directly at my head, which I would settle for. But it would do some real damage to my knees, the way she had it now. Enough that I wouldn't be getting away without help. "You stay, you help fix things. We don't talk unless I start the conversation. Leave when you want."

That was it. She left me alone. I touched Craig on the shoulder. "Thank you."

"I don't know if I helped you."

Comforting.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/14/2074

I caved in on the new one. Craig might have left if I killed her there, and he's too important to me right now. She might be able to fix things up. I don't know. I won't deal with her. I have to stay unattached enough to kill them both. Craig is already iffy, but I can still do it. For twenty million dollars, I can do a lot of things.

ENTRY END
Evenstad Media's New Hit Sensation: The Park

1/14/2074 at 1:18 p.m. EST

When The Park first aired, I didn't give it much thought. I don't put a lot of faith in reality shows, and this was just another in a long line of them, spewed out to rend money from customer since before I was born. But there was nothing else on, and The Park's series premiere was being advertised on every channel I tried. I gave it a chance.

Brilliance. I can't normally apply that word to television, but this time, it really, truly fits. The Park is brilliant in so many different ways, not the least of which is the sheer amount of money the show must be raking in for Evenstad Media's already well-lined pockets. But even knowing that, I am more than willing to give them 180 minutes of my time each week to stay caught up. I even admit that I pay for a subscription to their scam, The Park 24/7.

Twelve total strangers, tossed into an enclosed, lightless trailer park. Nothing but them and some guards to shoot anyone trying to escape. And they couldn't have asked for a better opening, even if they scripted it. Nathan's death made it real. I'm sure they lost some people for that, but not this viewer. According to the ratings, which they proudly wave about, viewership actually increased after that first episode, and the initial run of 24/7 brought in six million subscribers. And that number has been climbing.

Among fans, at least in the online community, the big question is about the medallions. We were told from the very first episode that there were others hidden around The Park. How many, we don't know, but others. Most people assume them to be more devastating even than the dozen we _have_ seen so far. And those people are probably making a good assumption. Perhaps not every medallion will be a better tool, but I suggest many of them will be. No one has yet actively searched for medallions, that we've been shown, but I think they will be key. Something to take on the likes of Susan's pinpoint laser, Manfred's lightning, or Blake's shotgun-esque blast of energy.

And of course, the big question, the one that really keeps us coming back, is who will die next? Who will kill them? And who will win? As we have seen the contestants growing closer, even living with one another, I can't help but think that someone will be killed before too long, killed by an 'ally.'

TL;DR: The Park: watch it.

Phil Boggs
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/14/2074

So, how are the ratings doing now? I haven't heard anyone setting off the alarm, or any gunshots. Sure, it could have been silent, done by hand or something, but my best guess is that things have been slowing down. Doesn't that mean that your viewers are losing interest? How much longer until you decide to take things into your own control? More than you have, I mean. Putting us in here might not be enough forever, if things don't keep up a decent speed. Lots of action, lots of blood, lots of violence. That's what keeps your little show making money, just like with anything else, nowadays.

Tell you what, though: I can help you out. Let's get everything going a little faster. I may have found myself a little friend. Slave. Pet. Whatever you want to call him. I've been watching him. I think he'll be an easy enough target. I can probably manipulate him by flashing my boobs a few times. Make him do whatever I want. Sound good to you? Do you censor that kind of nudity, or is it going to make it into the final cut of the show? Pixelated? Black bar? Little Xs over the nipples?

With all the help I'm giving you, I'm hoping for a little something in return. Get on that, would you, Evenstad?

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 08DESIREE

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/14/2074

I feel so young. Justice and I are growing really, really close. He goes out in front of me, when we have to leave the house. He hasn't said anything about it, and I'm not going to bring it up. I know that You've done this for me, God. He can have as much time as he needs to figure out that truth for himself.

There's just one issue. He's decided that we need to go out and look for these medallions that are supposed to be hidden around the trailer park. I just don't know about it. He wants to do it so that we can protect ourselves better. It makes a lot of sense, in a way, but I'm not thrilled about it. We have a pretty good thing going right here. I want to keep it working, and I don't know if bringing in even more weapons is going to help that at all.

So God, I know that You've been doing a lot for me already. More than I ever, ever deserve. Thanks to You, I'm getting through this in one piece. But I need to ask You for a favor. A big favor. I need a sign, one way or another. Should we do this, or should we stay? Please, I beg of You, do this for me.

Amen.

ENTRY END
WHO IS GOING TO WIN THE PARK?

POLL 1

1: Susan (36%)

2: Justice (18%)

3: Christina (11%)

4: Craig (7%)

5: Rita (5%)

6: Tina (5%)

7: Blake (4%)

8: Manfred (4%)

9: Desiree (4%)

10: David (3%)

11: Julia (2%)

12: Nathan (1%)

(Information Collected by The Cruise)
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 003

DATE: 1/19/2074

I don't think I can keep playing the way I have been. I haven't been playing at all, really, just sitting around for the past three weeks. And that's not going to work. But I'm scared. Terrified. I don't want to do what it is I have to do, but I know that it has to happen. If I'm actually going to start playing, I have to work within the confines of their game. And their game isn't pleasant.

So, for the past couple days, I've been watching someone. He's probably my dad's age, maybe a little younger. He's got this tagalong old man. Way too old to help him out, if the time comes. When. I need to start saying when. It's going to happen. When the time comes for me to kill him, I know the old man won't be an issue. He looks like he'd get knocked over if I gave him a mean enough look.

I know where the two of them are staying and I've moved in closer so I don't miss out on my chance. When he comes out, I need to be ready to do it. I'll probably have to get really close to use the medallion, if I want to do any real damage. I don't want it to take a lot of time. I need to get this first one out of my way.

Right now, I'm just screwing with him. Rocks and sticks at the windows and walls. Anything to make noise that he might have to come look at, figure out what it is. I've been making things more and more obvious, trying to force him out. But he and the old man are both really resistant to leaving. Not surprising, but it's making my job harder than I'd really like it to be.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 12DAVID

ENTRY 005

DATE: 1/23/2074

There's someone outside of the house. I don't know why. Probably trying to pick off the weakest of the herd. Predators always do, and I can guess that Manfred and I rank pretty low on the threat list. It's gotten bad enough that we've started taking guard shifts. Only one of us sleeps. I try to take as many as I can, but Manfred's staying right up with me. He wants to pull his weight, but I can see him flagging. I'm younger and I can afford to spend more time awake. I try to get up early and I push myself as far as I can stretch. It's for the best, anyway. When I'm exhausted, I don't dream as much. Or at least I don't remember my dreams as much. The dreams aren't kind to me. Slow deaths. Pain. I don't know how realistic they are. I've never been cut to bits. But, if it's anything like what my brain's coming up with, I don't want it. At all.

I want to get out of here, but I know I shouldn't. So far, the walls have kept me safe. So far.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 004

DATE: 1/31/2074

I made it out alive. In honor of David's memory, I feel that I must record the events here, though I know that I will never forget what I have seen. I only wish that I could have recovered the body. But there was not much left for me to bury, in the end. I have taken his medallion, only to keep it away from the scavengers and murderers.

I had to sit here and watch David collapse into himself. I realize that it is pleasant, compared to his eventual fate, but I still would not wish to relive it. Whoever his attackers were, they were horribly clever. They drove him mad, mad enough to wish to leave the house. I did what I could to stop him, but all I had were my words. Again, my body fails me, and again I am reminded how unfit I am to play this game.

When he left, I dared not follow. There was little I could do. I went as far as the front porch, far enough out that I could attempt to fend off anyone who tried to attack. I didn't relish the thought of unleashing lightning on another living being, but David was a pure soul. No one here deserves to die, but I think him, least of all. I don't know the others forced into here, but David was purely good.

It was quick. In the dark, I hardly saw the movement. Only in hindsight do I remember it clearly. By the time I saw it, it was too late. The dark figure was on David. I saw a flash of light burst through David's back. It took me a moment before I realized that it was something more than simple light, that it had broken all the way through his body and fell to the ground in. The grass flared where the light fell to the ground, then sputtered out.

I am ashamed to write it here, but I allowed my fear to overcome my judgment. I ran back inside, flicked off the lights, and locked the door. A stupid, panicked move, turning off the lights. But they didn't notice the change and didn't notice me, as best I can tell. Otherwise, I would likely have died before ever typing this journal.

I watched through the window. I could not see much, but I caught a few more things by the dim light of the burning grass. More flashes of light to let me see more parts of David's body separating. It was a man, judging by the shape, although I could be wrong. He was a sadist, though. He kept blowing David apart, long after he had died.

A woman came up a short time after the man stopped. They talked for a few minutes and she bent down to examine David's body. I can only think she was looking for the medallion. Luckily, it was not there. It flew with his head and disappeared in the dark. I am thankful that they were unable to get it. I hardly think that they need more power.

Now, I am alone. These days shall be difficult for me. I only hope that I can make it through in one piece. But if not, I hardly think it would come as a surprise, to myself or anyone else.

ENTRY END
TO Marta Evenstad <mevenstad@evenstadenterprises.com>, Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtechnologies.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: Media Coverage

SENT: 2/2/2074 AT 12:02 p.m. EST

Brother, Sister.

I wanted to keep you abreast of the progress, as you two hold the greatest interest in this endeavor. I've spoken with Stian, and he's agreed to provide favorable coverage of the coming events in The Cruise. If we can win public opinion through the news, what we plan to do will be much simpler, when it comes time.

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
Mrs. Lopez,

In accordance with the contract signed by your brother David Mae for participation in 'The Park,' Evenstad Media is obligated to pay the expenses for the beneficiaries named therein, in the event of Mr. Mae's death.

Enclosed, please find a check written for the amount of $50,000. These checks will be delivered biannually until you request that payments cease or in the event of your death.

We're sorry for your loss.

Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 004

DATE: 1/31/2074

I met this girl after I killed that guy. It's been really good for me. She's helping me get through all the things in my head. All the stuff I keep thinking. Without her, I don't know how I'd be getting through any of this.

I kind of liked it. I mean, I didn't like killing him. I don't know. It was like something releasing. Or maybe something snapping. I can't really decide which it was. But there was suddenly this lack of tension. Maybe because I'd been planning it and focusing on it so hard, and then it was just done. I guess that's probably what it was. But I didn't like it. I don't like it. The killing. I liked the release. I'm not even making sense to me.

That's why Rita's been so great. She's talked me through it. This is just a game. Everything I'm doing is just a game. None of it is really me. She even pointed out that there's no way that Evenstad Media's really letting us kill each other. Especially not on TV. That's just crazy. I was just too stupid to see it on my own.

But that doesn't change what I did. I didn't know that I wasn't killing him when I did it. I killed that guy. It seemed way too real to be faked, too. I mean, the way he kind of flew apart. I've already puked three times thinking about that.

I don't know. I really don't get how it could all be faked. I don't understand a lot of things that are going on right now. Rita's one of those things, too. I mean, I think she's into me. Like, really into me. And she's way out of my league, so I don't get it. She's absolutely out of my league. But she's being so nice. Really nice. And touchy. Physical touchy.

It's nice. It helps take my mind off of what I did. And the fact that I'll probably have to do it again. The killing thing, not the touching. Real or not, that blood smell just isn't going to go away. I know that for sure. I can smell it in my sleep, and I've already showered and scrubbed twice. It's not on my body at this point. It's just... there. Maybe with soap. Or maybe it's just stuck there in my head.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 004

DATE: 2/08/2074

Well, the decision got fucking made for me, I guess. I've got to leave this place and head out into the park. It's for Desiree. Logic be damned, I guess. I'm attached to her, as much as I don't want to be. And she's not doing very fucking well. The last few days, she's been really quiet. Not that she ever talked too much, but it's been almost silent. When she does talk, it's very slow. Sometimes she doesn't even respond when I ask a direct question. It's fucking scary, and it doesn't bode very well for her. She's not going to be able to fend for herself. She wasn't all that capable before, really, but now she doesn't have a hope. Which means that I'm responsible for her. At least that's how it goes in my head. I know I shouldn't give two shits about this girl, but here I am, fixing to leave my safety behind just so I can try to ensure that she stays alive. I'm telling you. Fucking damaged women. They're my downfall.

According to that letter I got when I woke up here, there's more of these weird-ass medallion things out in the park. I don't know, maybe they're not worth it. Maybe I won't even be able to find one of them. I doubt that these people just left them lying on the fucking ground. I know I haven't seen one yet. I'm taking Desiree's with me when I leave, too. Being invisible can't hurt. I don't know for sure how long it lasts, but I'd rather have it than not. I don't have any kind of watch, but I'm going to try and keep the trips short. I'm worried about leaving her alone too long. Damn me. Damn her. Damn this whole fucking thing. But mostly damn me and my pathological need to help a damsel in distress. Cause I tell you what, Desiree is damn sure distressed.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 005

DATE: 2/06/2074

It has been too long since I have felt safe enough to write a journal. I know that I should do it daily. I know that. But I have been otherwise occupied. I knew that I could not stay in the same house. It was a risk that I was unwilling to take. As much as David's death affected me, my survival is now of more importance than my mourning. I'm certain I won't be able to hold back my grief much longer. Not now that I have assured a relative measure of safety for myself.

I can thank the military for one thing, at least. The training I received is now proving useful. I have managed to cover my own trail, I believe. At least, I have not yet been found. I could not move quickly, nor far, but I was able to find a new house to stay in. I do not move much. I keep the curtains drawn. There is little point to having them open, anyway. No sunlight to let in. I still stay below the windows as much as possible, and the lights are only on when I absolutely cannot avoid it.

I am concerned over my health, however. Much more than before. While I still do not expect to survive this ordeal, I would hope for a faster death than starvation. I can only force myself to eat small amounts. Too much and I throw it all up. I can feel the weakness, a shiver and ache in my limbs any time I dare try to move. I have considered strongly ending it myself. It would be kinder to me and it might save someone the trouble of dirtying their soul. But, at least today, I have not been able to make the final leap over that line. The idea however, is there. I cannot honestly believe that, at some point, it will not become more prevalent, the voice more powerful. One day soon, it may even sound reasonable. But for now, such a death seems too terrifying.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 003

DATE: 2/09/2074

So, I've had a moment of self-discovery. It's not as great as that makes it sound, though. I've realized that even though Julia's a bit of an idiot, I might rival her in that regard. I realized that I might be sticking around for more than the food. That's all I thought it was. I don't know about that, I guess. If I'm being honest, since it's just me here, I think I knew that there was something else going on. Not just the food. But I either didn't want to admit it to myself or I didn't quite understand it. I would hardly think I would be the type to fall for someone as totally useless as her, especially not with everything being so important as it is right now. She can't afford to ignore what's going on, and I can't afford to be saddled with someone intentionally ignorant like her. But I also can't afford to be missing as much work as I have. The company needs me and I've been gone for a month. But that's happening. And apparently this is happening, too.

I don't notice it when I'm with her, though. Which is pretty scary as it is, not noticing everything that's going on around me. But I don't. All we do is talk and laugh and eat. Damn it, her food is good. But I think I could go without it and still be just fine, sitting there with her every night. I've already moved in, and that's a huge step.

I try to talk about this whole situation with her at least once a day, but she doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't want any reminders that she isn't just living her normal life. That's why all the blinds and everything stay closed, so she doesn't have to see what's outside. The emptiness. She just stays in the house and cooks and cleans and talks. And honestly, I've started doing the same. I find myself bringing up the real reason we're here just as much to remind myself as to try and jog her out of her denial. Which might be the scariest thing of all. I'm beginning to buy into her delusion, and it's a fatal delusion.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 004

DATE: 2/14/2074

Well, looks like things are working out. I told you I'd be trying to raise your ratings. I bet there's all kinds of fan speculation now, wondering if Blake and I were together from the beginning, right? And then you'll have the people who think I just jumped on an opportune situation. They're right. I didn't know that the kid was actually going to kill that guy. I should have realized it, the way he was hanging around the house, throwing rocks at the windows. Clever kid. But I had him in my sights, didn't I? I even got him halfway convinced that he's not even killing anyone. I wasn't sure that one would work, but damn it, I'm glad it did. It means he's good and gullible. Just the way I need him to be.

Make sure you keep those camera lenses nice and shiny clean, boys. I wouldn't want anyone to miss out on this. I bet it'll be damn good television. I'm sure the kiss will be enough to pique your audience's interest, right? What more could they really expect, though? It is Valentine's Day. It would just be a sin not to kiss my new beau on Valentine's Day, don't you agree?

ENTRY END
TO: Matthieu Moreau <mmoreau@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Suzanne Young <syoung@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: CESUs

SENT 8/19/2073 AT 11:16 a.m. EST

Matthieu,

This is just to confirm the plan on the setup for The Park. Namely, the placement of the CESUs. Mr. Evenstad has some basic guidelines, but he has specifically requested that a single individual take charge of the official placement. You will, of course, not be allowed to tell anyone else any details of this. You've worked with the company long enough that I hardly need to point that out, but it bears repeating nonetheless.

There will be twenty-eight CESUs in the form of golden medallions. Each will be individually packaged and labeled with a number from one to four. The numbers indicate a specific strategy Mr. Evenstad would like applied to the CESUs thusly labeled. Those strategies are detailed below. Within the confines of Mr. Evenstad's instructions, you have free reign to place the CESUs as you see fit.

1: 9 in total; these are to be put more or less in plain sight or with minimal attempts at camouflage.

2: 11 in total; these are to be hidden, but not particularly difficult for the contestants to locate; should not be visible upon first glance.

3: 5 in total; these are to remain out of sight; should be very difficult to locate; will preferably require physical effort to reach.

4: 3 in total; no specific instructions are attached to CESUs labeled with a 4; it is of note that these CESUs are considered to be either particularly volatile or otherwise dangerous; these should be placed with attention to viewer intrigue above all else.

If you have any questions in relation to this, please respond to this email. Do not create any other information trails dealing with this subject. I will be in touch with you at a later date with further information.

Suzanne Young

Administrative Assistant to Niels Evenstad
Dear Valued Evenstad Media Customer,

You've watched The Park. Now how would you like to be a part of it? How would you like to live it? Now you can participate in all the game play you love to watch without leaving the comfort of your computer chair.

Say hello to The Park: Live and Breathe. Design your own character, pick a random CESU, and do your best to survive in our all new MMO. The game map is an exact replica of the arena from The Park. All of this, the full Park experience, can be yours for the low, fixed price of $11.95/month. Your price will never increase, but this is a limited offer. If you want these kind of savings, you need to subscribe before the end of this month. As always, if you are dissatisfied with the service for any reason, you are free to cancel at any time. No fees, fines, or charges.

For more information, or to sign up for The Park: Live and Breathe, call our Customer Service Hotline at 1-888-003-8000 Monday-Friday, 8 a.m.-8 p.m. EST.

From us, thank you,

Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 09TINA

ENTRY 005

DATE: 2/15/2074

I'm not safe here. I never really thought I was, but I just had to have some people around me. And staying here seemed to me like a much better option than getting murdered by Susan. She's a whole different kind of nuts. Like, the kind you hear about in the newspapers. Soccer mom kills six but shows no remorse. That kind of nuts. I don't spend any time with her I don't have to, and she pretty much ignores me. Which is good, I guess. I'd rather her ignore me than to be constantly on her radar. But there's a part of me that wants her to give me something more than that, too. So I could see into her a little better, try and gauge what she actually thinks about me.

I guess it doesn't really matter. I'm pretty confident I have a good enough idea of what she thinks about me. She wouldn't have any issue throttling me on the spot, if she got tired enough with me. Same thing with Craig, too, I think. Both of us are expendable to her, I wouldn't doubt. Me, at least.

That's why Craig and I have been talking about maybe leaving. Probably leaving. I want to leave, let's put it that way. Craig wants to leave, too, but he wants to wait. I really, really don't agree with the whole thing, but I don't see myself taking off without him. He wants to stick around long enough to get a little closer to Susan. He still wants some tools, and she keeps a pretty tight hold on whatever she's been able to cobble together, but he thinks he can get to some more, if she has them. We just have to stick around a little longer.

That's his theory. Mine is still get away from the psychotic nutjob lady. But I'll stick with Craig as long as I can. If things get too much tenser around here with Susan and I, I'll probably be forced to leave for my own safety.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 004

DATE: 2/15/2074

I can hardly contain my excitement! I don't have any chance of getting to sleep, so I had to write it down. I don't want to forget any of it.

Christina moved into my bedroom tonight. It's silly and stupid and I just love the way it feels. I haven't had anyone in my bed with me for a long time. Not just to sleep. She didn't say very much, but what she said mattered. She wanted to get in my bed just to be close to me. She said it quietly, but I heard it. I can still hear it in my head. She wanted to be close to me.

I know I won't be able to sleep, still, but I don't want the light to wake her up, so I have to sign off on this. But someone actually wants me. Christina wants me. I finally see a chink in that wall.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 004

DATE: 2/17/2074

Craig and Tina are planning to leave. They don't think I pay attention. They don't think I know. I let them believe that. But I know. And I know he wants tools. I don't have any. None better than I let him use. I keep a hold on them to make him wonder. Otherwise, he'd already be gone. Rather have him here. Once he's not useful, he'll be easier to deal with if I have him on hand. Tina's alive temporarily. Probably not much longer. Puts too many ideas out there.

ENTRY END
TO: Evenstad Media <info@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Natalie Klein <ramblinnati16@mymailer.co.uk>

SUBJECT: The Park Query

SENT 2/17/2074 AT 3:16 a.m. EST

Hello.

I am sorry to bother you. I realize that you and your company are very busy and probably don't have much time to deal with questions. I just need an answer, if you can provide me with one.

My husband, Manfred Klein, is currently a contestant on The Park. My feelings for this program aside, I hope that you can answer a simple question. Do you by chance know why my husband agreed to participate in this program? I realize that there are legal reasons you likely cannot reveal this information to me, but I beg that you will find some ounce of kindness to overlook those policies. I need to know why. And I need to know why he didn't tell me about this. Please

Regards,

Natalie Klein

—

TO: Natalie Klein <ramblinnati16@mymailer.co.uk>

FROM: Evenstad Media <info@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: The Park Query

SENT 2/17/2074 AT 10:46 a.m. EST

Mrs. Klein,

Thank you for taking the time to contact us. We here at Evenstad Media are devoted to customer service above all else.

Your husband Manfred signed a contract with us shortly before we began recording. While you are correct in thinking that some details may not be revealed, as to avoid legal repercussions, we will of course help you in any way possible.

Manfred's decision was based on you and your children. As you may know, the winner of The Park will receive twenty million US Dollars, which works out to over twelve million pounds, after conversion. That would be enough to live on for some time. And, in the unfortunate event of his death during filming, you and your children would receive a biannual stipend to cover all of your living costs. Manfred thought only of his family, I assure you. I was present during contract negotiations personally.

As for why he didn't inform you, we can only guess. The most logical answer, of course, would be that he simply didn't want you to worry about him. However, beyond mere speculation, we can't offer anything on that front.

Hopefully, this answered your questions. And again, we here at Evenstad Media thank you.

Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 005

DATE: 2/19/2074

I finally managed to find another one of the medallions. I almost missed it. I mean, if there'd been any sort of fucking light in here, it would have been easy. Probably would have seen the metal glinting. I found it hanging from the eaves of one of the trailers. I mean, I would have thought they would have at least fucking tried to hide them. Probably part of what made it so hard to find, just sitting out there for the taking.

As soon as I found it, I headed back. Just in fucking time, too. I caught Desiree wandering toward the door. It took me a solid minute or two to even get her attention. Totally fucking dazed. Out of her skull.

I was lucky to have found the medallion when I did. I definitely can't leave Desiree alone now. I haven't even been able to get away and test the medallion out. No idea what it fucking does. But at least I've got it. I'm better armed and Desiree's going to be better protected. That's what I'm hoping for, anyway. For all I know, it could be some stupid decoy they put out to mess with our fucking heads. And wouldn't that be fantastic?

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 08DESIREE

ENTRY 004

DATE: 2/20/2074

Justice took me back inside. I think I'm thankful for it, but I just can't be sure. I keep hearing this voice and these words. I know it's You, God. I think I know. I just... I need a sign. Any sign. If You've truly chosen to speak to me, give me a sign. I need Your guidance. Should I listen to the words I hear? I want to do right. I want to do Your will. But I need a way to be certain. I don't want to succumb to the Devil. Please, God, just help me decide. Tell me who to listen to.

Amen.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 005

DATE: 2/22/2074

Tina's pushing to leave. Heard her talking to Craig. Starting to work. He's considering. Don't like it. Don't want him against me. Her I can deal with. I've put it off long enough now. She's getting shiftier. Don't like it. The two of them could take me out. Pretty sure on that. Just a matter of going first. Don't think they have the stomach to kill. Never thought I did, either. But here I am. Can't have Tina around much longer. She's been leaving when she thinks I'm asleep. Think she's looking for something to help. One of the medallions, probably. She gets one, that could end everything. Don't like it.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 004

DATE: 2/23/2074

I'm a fool. An even bigger fool than I thought. Apparently, I'm feeding Julia's delusion now. I didn't see it until after the fact, but that's exactly what I did this morning. Probably means I'm falling into it right alongside her.

I was starting to feel guilty about how well she was taking care of me. It's not like I ever did anything for her. Not once since I found her, in fact. So I made sure I was up before she was, which wasn't an easy thing to do in the first place, and I made breakfast. Or I tried to. I burned the canned ham right down to the center. Yeah, not just the outside. All the way through. I guess there aren't any smoke alarms in these trailers. But I made up for it. The frozen hash browns didn't even get cooked all the way through. So I guess that balances it all out.

I was going to throw it out, but that's when Julia walked in. Trust me, I could tell that she wasn't thrilled about the whole thing, but she smiled and sat down. I tried to give her as little as possible, but she just kept asking for more until she had a good, full serving in front of her. And she ate it and said how wonderful it was, even as we both struggled to choke it down.

I don't know. We have enough food to not worry about it running out. It's all frozen or canned, so it won't spoil. There's no logical reason for her to have eaten it. But she did.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 09TINA

ENTRY 006

DATE: 2/26/2074

I did it. I finally found another medallion. It was right over by the wall. I was worried about setting off the alarms and giving myself away, but I've been looking for almost a week, now, and this was the first one I'd found. I don't know if they just shut the alarms off or if this spot is somehow unprotected or what. If it was, it could be a way out. Not going to risk that, though. It's pretty clear I'm supposed to stay put.

I haven't even gone back to the house yet. I need to wait a little bit and get my head clear. I tested out the medallion, and just having it scares me. All I saw was this ball of gold. It was shimmering like a really hot fire, and it went far enough that I didn't see it fizzle out. Maybe it even hit the wall. I don't know. But it was fast and hot and it's only been a couple minutes and it's already ready to go again.

I found the mother lode. As in winning might actually be possible

ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>

SUBJECT: Golden Gun

SENT 3/31/2072 AT 11:14 a.m. EST

Brother,

The reports about the CESUs we made for The Park have caught my eye. Enough that I'm emailing you directly. I don't want word of this to get out. It's very sensitive and could be very bad for both of us if the information ever got out.

One of the CESUs that my people made, the lab techs started calling it the 'golden gun.' It's a thermal weapon. They designed it to be a secret weapon, the kind of thing that would make someone almost invulnerable. A potential range of miles and enough heat to kill on contact. The timing unit they installed is incredibly fast as well. Less than two minutes before it can be fired again. It's quite a long time, but not compared to the potential destructive capacity

I think we have to cut it. It's bad enough that we know that one can be made. I'm in full support of this program of yours, but with this, I fear that the bad press could be too much to overcome.

Please consider what I've told you,

Frederick Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Technologies

—

TO: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Golden Gun

SENT 3/31/2072 AT 12:22 p.m. EST

I'm aware of all of this. I've already approved all forty CESUs to be used. I realize that this 'golden gun' of yours is dangerous, but the ratings, Brother. The ratings will get word out about your product, and the money will buy us real family security.

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 006

DATE: 2/26/2074

Secrecy is more important than ever. People draw close to me. I saw a flash of light go by. I can only assume that it came from one of the medallions. Nothing in nature, and certainly nothing I have yet seen here, would cause such an effect. I worry that the young man and woman may have tracked me here. I must cut back on my journal even more, to avoid the light of the screen revealing my location. Hopefully, my mind is strong enough to withstand the wear without it.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 004

DATE: 2/28/2074

Oh God. I can finally stop for a moment. I've left Susan behind after what she did. I just... I couldn't believe it. She didn't have any difficulty with it and didn't show any remorse about it.

Tina's dead. I didn't stay a single second after that. Why would I? How could I? There was no reason for Susan not to turn straight on me. I left while her CESU was still recharging and just ran.

I'm alone again, and all I have to show for the time I spent with Susan is Tina's corpse and paranoia. I'm no closer to taking apart these CESUs than when I first went looking for tools.

Well, I guess that's not entirely true. I think I know how to get into them. But I don't like it. I think I have to use another CESU to do it. It's just too bad I couldn't have grabbed Tina's. Maybe that would have worked.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 006

DATE: 2/28/2074

Tina's gone. Craig ran. Probably smart. Way he was acting, I might have had to take him out, too. Not an immediate problem. I can remove him when I need to. Nabbed the other medallion she had. Nasty piece. Keeping it close at hand. Between that and my first one, I don't see where I'll be in much danger. Just have to be careful. Don't let them go without a charge for too long.

Think the money is safely mine. Haven't met everyone yet. If Craig and Tina are the average, I should be fine. Not issues. Might get some respect from the girls at work. Lot of people might quit work. Twenty million is good, but not really enough for a good life. Not after taxes. Have to stay behind the cash register for a bit, still.

ENTRY END
WHO IS GOING TO WIN THE PARK?

POLL2

1: Susan (32%)

2: Christina (14%)

3: Blake (10%)

4: Justice (7%)

5: Rita (7%)

6: Craig (7%)

7: Manfred (7%)

8: Desiree (6%)

9: Julia (6%)

10: David (2%)

11:Tina (1%)

12: Nathan (1%)

(Information Collected by The Cruise)
JOURNAL 08DESIREE

ENTRY 005

DATE: 3/4/2074

Lord, I've received Your sign. Everywhere I look, I see demons. On the walls, sitting next to me on the furniture, everywhere. Everywhere but the doors and windows. I never see the demons outside. So I know. I understand. I can't stay here. They won't leave. You've revealed them to me, and there's no way for me to banish them. Not from here. They've impregnated the walls.

I have to leave. Staying here won't do anyone any good. Justice doesn't want me to leave. He doesn't understand it. I can't make him see what's going on. I know You have Your reasons for not letting him see it. You have Your reasons and they aren't for me to question. I can only say it would be easier if You would share the visions, but I don't make this request. I would not dream of such indignity against You.

When it comes time to escape, I will be ready. I don't know what work You have waiting for me out there, but I know that it's beyond that door. It's outside these walls, in the darkness. It's out of Justice's safety and protection. I see now that You didn't answer my pining for love. That, perhaps, is not in my future. Justice is here as a challenge. He's simply misguided. I won't hurt him. He's innocent. But I have to escape. I swear to do this in Your name.

Amen.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 005

DATE: 3/5/2074

I've managed to find a new place to live. It's far away from Susan, unless she decides to leave. I doubt she will. She spent too long setting up those traps and security measures and everything. She's way too practical to waste that much time and energy. Scary practical.

I'm still working on the CESUs. My best theory is still that I need to use a CESU to get into a CESU. At least as long as I'm stuck in here without proper tools. Of course, I might end up killing myself in the process. I don't have any of the exact paperwork or schematics on them, but the amount of energy inside of a CESU is huge. If I screw up... I don't want to think about it. I'm working on estimates anyway. They could be wrong.

And I have to find two. The one I had on me when I woke up is a ways off from the house. Have it set up with a tripwire. A million things could go wrong with it, but if it works out, I'll have a good thirty seconds' notice to get away.

I'll be completely unprotected at that point, too. Not something I'm hoping for, but it's better than the alternative. You know, death. So I'd rather find two. Something to work on and something to work with. Hopefully not something powerful. Don't want to rupture whatever's in there. But I'd rather have the one I work with strong enough to make somebody else stumble, if necessary. A delicate balance. I don't know that I'll be able to find it.

It might be easier if I could sleep better. Ever since I left, I've been on edge. Any little noise or light wakes me up. I'm lucky to get a few hours. And those few hours are normally filled with nightmares. Tina dying. Susan finding me. My own damn curiosity getting me blown up or burned to death. I've been way too tired lately. So I'd rather find the other CESUs soon. I don't know how many more nights I'll be lucid enough to comfortably do the kind of precision work I'll end up needing to do.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 005

DATE: 3/5/2074

I've come to a decision. Probably get my stupid ass killed in the process, but Julia needs protecting, and I'm here. So I'm doing it. I can't tell her about it, but I'm doing it. I just don't want her getting hurt.

She's teaching me to cook. If I make it out of this in one piece, I guess I'll actually be able to fend for myself. Hopefully I can get my food bills down. Restaurants and prepackaged dinners aren't really cost-effective. I always knew that, but I didn't think I could cook. Actually, I knew I couldn't. Now I can... sort of.

Let's just hope that I actually get the chance to put this all to use. But then, if I do, that means Julia didn't survive. Either way, I failed. Which one is worse? I don't know for sure. Depends on the day. Depends on the time of day, I guess.

Right now, the best option is Julia surviving. I guess I'll see what the verdict is tonight, when I don't sleep again. The past couple days haven't been good for me. Exhaustion. This whole thing's been keeping me up. But I can't manage to give up and leave. I just can't.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 005

DATE: 3/6/2074

I've been thinking about my family a lot lately. My mom, mostly. Dad, he can probably handle the whole thing all right. On the outside, anyway. You know how it is with those old-fashioned kinda guys. They never really let you know how they're feeling until their dogs die. But Mom, I think she's falling apart. I guess part of it is me hoping. Not that I want her to get hurt. I don't want any of this to happen at all, least of all Mom getting upset about it. But how would I really feel if I found out she wasn't upset?

It's stupid. I know she has to be. Who wouldn't, with their son kidnapped? No notice, no nothing? They don't know that this is all fake. I'm still running with that. It's the only thing that actually makes sense. But Rita also says they wouldn't let the audience know it was fake. Makes sense, too. Everything she says makes sense.

I'm glad Rita found me and told me what was going on. I wouldn't have figured it out. I'm just not that bright. Yeah, I can admit it. Rita pretty much saved my ass. I don't know exactly what would have happened if someone had figured out that this was all fake.

But Mom and Dad don't know. They could have figured it out. They say it's always easier when you're sitting on the couch than when you're actually there. Maybe they solved the puzzle. Maybe they're not worried and they know that it's some weird special effects trick when people die. Fuck, maybe they got told that it's all fake. I don't know. I don't know anything other than what I'm supposed to do. Survive. Or 'survive,' I guess. Don't become a victim of whatever high tech hallucination hologram bullshit they're using.

I still think about that guy I killed, though. It was so graphic. I just can't manage to forget any of it. Not a single drop of blood.

ENTRY END
Mr. And Mrs. Ross,

Your son, Blake Ross, has recently volunteered to participate in Evenstad Media's newest program, 'The Park.' The grand prize for the winner is twenty million dollars US.

Unfortunately, this competition brings with it a certain level of risk. Due compensation will be provided in the event of serious injury or death. In his contract, you were named as the recipients of any such money.

Unfortunately, we cannot provide you with any further information without sacrificing the integrity of the program, but you are of course free to tune in. The show premieres on January 8th and will air every Monday afterward at 8 p.m. EST.

We appreciate your son's participation and your family's sacrifice. We understand that being without a family member for however short a time can be can be very trying. We can in no way make up for this hardship, but please accept a free lifetime subscription to Evenstad Media's Premium Package as a small token of our sympathy.

Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 006

DATE: 3/8/2074

Desiree's asleep, so I managed to steal away some time and test the fucking medallion I found. It's been long enough. I should have found out what it does before now, but I haven't been able to leave Desiree unsupervised for more than a few seconds without her trying to get herself fucking killed. I feel bad about it, but I blocked up the door to keep her from getting out. I'm a fucking asshole, I know, but I had to do it. Having this thing lying around, not knowing what it does, and Desiree falling out of her fucking skull, it just doesn't sit right on me.

So I took it outside. It was hard as fuck to see what was going on in that dark, but I didn't want to test it out too close to the house. Might have blown the whole fucker to bits, Desiree included. Best I could see in the dim lights, it was some kind of spray. It smelled foul. Like diesel mixed with baby puke. I thought that was the whole point of it. Seemed pretty fucking stupid. If someone's really determined to kill you, a nasty stink ain't going to stop them.

But then I saw the grass. Wherever that shit fell, it left everything brown and yellow and just fucking dead. Some kind of weed killer. Don't know if it does anything to people or not. I would guess so, as fast as it took out the grass, but what the fuck do I know? It could be that it just kills plants. It could be that it's just making me fucking hallucinate and the grass ain't even dead. I don't know.

But I do know one thing. It catches fire. I tried it out. Thought about spray paint and a lighter, the kind of stupid fucking stunts I pulled in high school. It worked. Big old fucking fireball thing. Probably gave away my whole position, if anyone was watching. I can hope they weren't. Really hope they weren't. Or at least hope that they were far enough away. Everything's recharged again. I can burn the fuckers, now. They ain't getting close to me or to Desiree.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 005

DATE: 3/9/2074

Well, aren't you happy to hear from me again? I'm sure I'm your favorite. I mean, does anyone else even talk to you? Really talk to you? Even if this whole thing's getting a little bit one-sided, now. I don't mind it too much. It gives me something to do when I get bored. Blake's useful, but damn it if he isn't horribly dull company. How many hours a day can two people spend talking about video games? As far as that horndog Blake is concerned, several. Many. A lot. I wish you could understand. Of course, you probably do understand. Watching the camera feeds to see what your little pet gerbils are up to, you've probably got triplicate records of everything any of us have ever said.

You probably even know how I feel about Blake. You probably know that I don't like it. If not, I'm telling you now: that's why I sleep so badly. That's why I'm waking up so many times. Every single time. I don't like what I'm doing to him. It makes me want to puke, thinking about it. Every time.

See, you did this to me. You people and this ridiculous game of yours. Killing people. Afraid for your life. Lying, cheating, armed to the teeth like some guerilla fighter with weapons that probably shred the Geneva Conventions to bits. Tiny ass bits. Did you consider that? Did you think about any of this, putting weapons like this in the hands of any John Q. Sample? Sure, you probably did. But I bet you didn't care, did you? I don't think you care about any of this. It's just part of your show, a big increase in ratings, a big increase in profits, a big fat nothing as far as we're concerned. I mean, how much money are we bringing in for you dickweeds, if you can afford to chuck twenty million dollars out for the grand prize? A shit ton, right? And here we are, just playing along. What happens if the show starts to get slow? Do you start fucking with us? Trying to get those ratings to jump up? Or do you just leave us to ourselves and pray that the viewers will keep on watching, even if it's dull as shit?

Come on. Let's get started. I'm tired of not hearing back from you. It's pretty God damn rude for you to just leave me talking to myself like this. It's been over two months now.

ENTRY END
UNREST IN EGYPT

3/7/2074 at 10:19 a.m. EST

While tensions in Egypt have been on the rise, the bubble has finally popped. A group calling themselves the Egyptian Restoration Movement attacked the Egyptian Museum in Cairo yesterday. While no artifacts were stolen, several antiquities were destroyed or damaged before the terrorists could be forced out.

In the wake of this museum attack, several other national fixtures have increased security. However, several attacks were made on the Heliopolis Palace, the current residency of the Egyptian president. We will update this article as more information is made available to us here at The Cruise.
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 007

DATE: 3/10/2074

Plans changing. Leaving traps. Won't go far. Can still catch people. Take out the biggest threats. People who will actively go after me. Leave the lights on in the house, make it obvious. People that stupid should die anyway.

Medallion I filched off Tina will keep me safe. I can travel. Start playing. Want to get this over with. Twenty million won't do me any good if I'm halfway dead when I leave. All go to medical bills. A little over two months.

Won't get Craig. He's too smart for that. Why I tried to keep him around. Close, he could die quick. Now I have to hunt or hope that someone else gets him done with. Save me trouble ferreting him out.

I'll be fine. Medallion's too strong for anyone to survive the hit. Just can't miss. Missing would be bad. Can't run for shit. So I can't miss.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 005

DATE: 3/13/2074

It's time for things to change. I'm going to wear my medallion again. I just can't keep ignoring reality like this. It's not healthy and it's not working.

And, as much as I don't like it, without this game, I would never have found Christina. I'm not going to think too much about the ramifications of all this. I know that accepting the game means that I have to accept that one or both of us is going to die, but who knows how long it could be before that happens. Christina won't kill me, I know that. If it's the two of us, maybe we can just go until old age. Maybe we'll sit around long enough that no one cares anymore. If there's no more excitement left in a TV show, it gets cancelled, right?

I'm pretending to be happy to impress... who? Myself? I hate this whole thing, and I doubt I'll be the one who makes it to the end. I'm not a fighter. I'm definitely the wrong person for this game. I know that, Christina knows it, the people who put this whole thing together know it, I'm sure. I'm a line cook, not one of those extremophiles, getting off on the adrenaline of life. Every time I think about what's going on around me, I just want to hide up in bed and rot away. It'd be easier.

But I won't. I'm getting into this. I have to. For myself and for Christina. I'm dead weight for her. She's still playing the game, after all. If she wastes her time and energy trying to protect both of us, that's not doing either one of us a favor. And I'd rather realize my own stupidity now rather than when I get killed, or when I have to clean Christina's blood off the carpet.

But not today. Tomorrow. I want one more day to try and ignore this all. Hamburgers for dinner.

ENTRY END
THE PARK: WHAT ARE WE WATCHING?

3/11/2074 at 2:08 a.m. EST

Everyone's heard of it by now. It's controversial. People love controversy, after all. Just eat it up. And what could be more controversial than organized murder for entertainment? Just about nothing I could think of.

Well, it's all fake. I'd put money on it. People are stupid enough to believe that this is all real? I wish I could say that I'm surprised. But nope. I gave up on my hopes for the intelligence of the human race years ago.

But today, I'm here to tell you that it's all fake. Fiction. Entertaining fiction, but fiction nonetheless. Aside from the big, glaring fact that it's completely immoral and illegal to do what they claim to be doing, let's look at the cast. A diverse enough spread to appeal to everyone. Six men, six women, different socioeconomic levels, some racial diversity, and even a Brit. Almost like it was planned.

Sure, they could have put the 'contestants' together to get all of that. But now we have the lesbian angle getting stronger and stronger in every episode. Christina and Julia's relationship is increasingly prominent.

See, the American public will eat up anything with lesbians. With pretty lesbians, anyway. If they were real butch, I wouldn't even bring it up. But Julia and Christina are both attractive women.

But it's not even that. All that does is add more evidence to the pile. Here's the real kicker for the lesbian=fiction argument: where are the gay dudes? Not a one in sight. They managed two lesbians in their 'random' selection, but no gays? Know why? Gays don't sell nearly as well. Gays are generally much less popular. It's just a fact, not my personal feelings on the matter.

You would think, all things being equal, there might be some gay guys running around here, too. Sure, maybe there are and we just aren't privy to the information. I'm not claiming that I have a watertight case for this whole thing. I don't. But I highly doubt we're watching a true reality show with random Joe and Jill Schmoes. I just doubt it. It doesn't make it any less entertaining, though.

Nancy Fitch
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 006

DATE: 3/13/2074

I found something. It might work. There was a CESU hidden under a bush, like, tucked into the bark and the roots. It's not all that strong, but that's perfect. I never wanted something strong. Maybe stronger than this, but I'm hardly going to complain. I got so excited, I had to go get mine and start working on it. Which was probably really god damn stupid, but I did it anyway. I didn't set it off doing that, and I actually made some progress. Enough progress to make me hopeful. The casing on the back of the other CESU is warped. The one I found lets out a beam. Like a low-intensity laser. Way better than a laser pointer but not so strong it can burn through steel and shit. And it's small enough to give me some precision. I can only work in five or six second bursts before it gives up and has to recharge, but that's fine. It recharges quickly anyway. I think I can get through the casing soon. That's why I stopped. I'm going to sleep, see if that helps. Using lasers when you're drowsy just sounds like a bad idea to me, no matter how weak they are.

But if this works, I can make a much more reliable alarm system. I could hardwire it together with some of the lines from inside the trailers. Wouldn't have to worry about the tripwire not working. I might even be able to lead people off, if I set it up right. And if I can modify this one, I can modify others. Hopefully. I'm actually beginning to think I could make it through this. I'd still rather not kill anyone. I'd rather run. But I have to be ready for that, if it comes down to it, unfortunately. And I think this new CESU is going to really help me with that.

I think the most important thing is that I finally feel some kind of comfort. Pretty soon, I'll have wires and circuit boards and resistors to work with. Things I know about. Things I can control. Things I'm used to from my normal life.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 006

DATE: 3/14/2074

Julia's finally asleep. I had to sit with her today. She looked terrible when she came out. It was weird enough that she slept later than me to begin with. She was shivering when I saw her. And she had a medallion around her neck. I didn't say anything about it, just grabbed her and hugged her. We haven't said a word to each other in hours. After I got her calmed down enough that she could drink some water, she explained it to me.

I can't believe I found this woman. She's doing it for me. She's willing to go back to this nightmare game for me. Out there, I never had anyone like this. I didn't think I could. But I get into this god damn murder fest and there she is, waiting for me with food and love and a warm bed. And now this. I just can't believe it. She cares that much about me?

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 007

DATE: 3/22/2074

I have allowed someone else into my home again. All logic tells me that I should not have done it. Were I a more violent person, I would even say that I should have killed him. But I know that I could never have done such a thing, even if I were in perfect health. There is more here at play than logic, anyway. Before I could give it much thought, I had already offered to let him stay here. It was the loneliness. I couldn't handle the loneliness as well as I thought I could, I suppose, and Craig provided me with an opportunity to break that.

He's a quiet enough young man. He reminds me quite a bit of David. But he seems to have more drive, at least so far as this game is concerned. He believes that he can work with the medallions and modify them to make them more useful. Whether he can do this or not, I cannot say for certain, but I will allow him the opportunity. It is simply too nice having company. I would not want him to leave me. I have even provided him with my own medallion to tinker with. It allows him to continue his work and gets that danger out of my hands. I was not comfortable with such power, anyway. I still have David's old medallion, if the need arises for me to defend myself.

I am doing my best to hide my poor condition from Craig. He has been so engrossed in his work, I doubt he would have noticed anyway. Although, perhaps his very presence will help. I feel livelier just having him around. And, although I still attempt to hide from the world outside this trailer, I am interacting again. Perhaps the company will convince me that life is worth living. It may assuage my fears enough to allow me to keep food down. I can only hope. Now, I do not want to die. At least, not from lack of trying to live.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 007

DATE: 3/24/2074

Locking doors isn't just something I do to get away, now. I've had to put stuff in front of the windows, keep the doors locked. It's the only way I can keep her in this fucking house. She's screaming and banging and begging to get out. And then she'll just fucking stop. For hours, I won't hear a thing. The first few times, I went in to make sure she hadn't passed out or escaped or anything. But I stopped that right fucking off. She threw herself at me when I went in. I didn't want to fucking punch her or anything, but I still hurt her pretty good throwing her back in the bedroom. And then the screaming started again. It just cycles like that. I don't even know if she fucking sleeps. Maybe that's what the quiet times are all about. I just wish she'd let me nap longer than a couple hours. My vision's starting to get blurry. I'm just thankful that she's not any fucking stronger than she is. Don't know if I could handle her, otherwise.

ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>

SUBJECT: Craig

SENT 3/27/2074 AT 3:13 p.m. EST

Brother,

I think we need to talk about this. Craig's figured out how to get into the CESUs. This isn't anything that was in our plans. They were not supposed to be able to do anything with them other than use them to fight. I... I think this needs to stop, Niels. At this point, we can't control what happens. The CESUs aren't designed to be modified by anyone, least of all garage mechanics. We need to just end the show. We'll continue the pay to the beneficiaries of the deceased and we can split the prize money between the survivors. There's more than enough in the budget, and we can keep the online game to hold profits steady. But this is far enough. This is now a matter of public safety. We know some of these contestants are unstable. If something goes wrong and they are somehow allowed out into the world, I can't imagine what it would mean. And we would be plainly at fault.

Please, Brother. This has gone on long enough. You have to see that.

Frederick Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Technologies

—

TO: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Craig

SENT 3/27/2074 AT 3:22 p.m. EST

I'm well aware of this situation, Brother. It's concerning, I admit that, but it's not an issue we can't handle, either. I have full confidence that everything will be fully safe. Craig is not qualified to work with such technology. It will be well beyond his capacity to understand. My people and I have ensured that, and I find it insulting that you would doubt me so. But I do understand your concerns. Grant me some faith. We're monitoring the situation, so it's not something you need to concern yourself with. Don't let this worry you. You have enough stress. Your meeting with the military contractors is fairly early tomorrow morning. Focus on that and leave the issue with the CESUs to me.

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 08DESIREE

ENTRY 006

DATE: 3/31/2074

God, I thank You for this. You have granted me another sign, and I will follow it. I know that I must. All I need is a way to get past Justice. I have seen what comes next. I have seen the Devil, and I will find the Beast, even if it means that I must remove the other obstacles in my path. Even if it means I must break through the walls that hold us all here. I will prove my devotion. This I swear. You have spoken to me, told me to find the source of the evil around us. I know You will show me the way.

Amen

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 007

DATE: 3/31/2074

I've finally managed to do something useful. Really useful. I just hope it turns out better than last time I thought I was doing something good. That ended with Tina dead.

But that's not like this. This is going to keep me safe for a long time. Maybe even until the end. I took the medallion Manfred gave me and hooked it into some wire and cable I scrounged up from the houses around us. It wasn't easy, and it's not perfect, but we've got a sort of electric fence up. If we see anyone coming, we can hit the button on the CESU and get rid of them. If we see them coming.

The CESUs themselves are fascinating, though. It's all powered by a tiny battery. I don't know if it's nuclear power or dark energy or something I can't even begin to fathom, but the battery itself is hardly bigger than a standard AAA. But the weird thing is that the little LED gauge is wired separately from the whole thing. I tracked the circuits twice, just to be sure. No direct connection. The gauge connects to a transistor, and the power supply connects to another transistor. I mean, I'm sure they connect together somewhere along the way. But it's two systems completely capable of independent function. If you could sever the right connection... I don't really want to think about it. If you sever the right connection, you could possibly take off the supposed charge delay, which I'm beginning to doubt is even a vital part of the design. Which is scary. I don't trust myself to mess with that kind of stuff. Not where this kind of power is involved. But if someone did, or if the company did, these things would be a hundred times as dangerous as they already are. No recharge time.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 007

DATE: 4/3/2074

Tomorrow, we're leaving the house. I know Julia shouldn't. I can see it whenever we talk about it. But she's insisting, and it's not my place to tell a grown woman what she can and can't do, no matter how much I might worry about her. But I am insisting on going with her. She didn't want me to, at first, but I have my limits, my conditions. That's one of them. She's been ignoring this whole situation we're in for the past three months. I can't just let her go out there and jump right back in.

Good lord. As though that didn't happen to me. And to the others, probably. But I can't let myself let her do that. It just doesn't seem right. Not when I'm supposed to be protecting her.

I won't let us go too far from the house. I want to make sure we can get back if something happens, or if Julia just can't handle it. I don't know if she can go back to ignoring the game, now, but I'll help her, if it comes down to that. I'll even take her medallion so she doesn't have to worry about finding it. I'm committed to this, whatever the outcome might be. I'll keep her safe. Just that simple.

Right. Because things in this game are so fucking simple.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 006

DATE: 4/3/2074

Well, I hope you're happy, Evenstad. I think I have to give Blake head today. He's starting to get antsy about things, and I can't afford to let anything like that happen. He might just leave me. And he's too valuable as a source of information. So yeah. I have to do something to keep him around, and flashing my boobs just isn't working as well as it used to. Warn the censors, I guess. And if I make it through this, I expect a bonus for this part. And all the other ratings increases I've probably given you.

It's not that he isn't cute. You cast him very well, in that regard. But he's so fucking stupid. I've been happy with it so far, don't get me wrong, Evenstad. But stupid is not a turn on. If you do an all-star comeback show and somehow rope me into it again, can you at least make the cute guy moderately intelligent? Just a thought.

But he gets this game. So I've got to keep him around. Once I got him convinced that none of it was real, he started spilling. The kid knows video games, and apparently this is just like a video game. He's not applying very much of it, so far, but he's got it all in his head. I'll apply it, I just have to get it out of there.

Which means he has to stay.

Which means a blow job.

Do you see what you've brought me to, Evenstad? I hope it's worth it to you.

ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>

SUBJECT: CESU Order

SENT 4/1/2074 AT 11:19 a.m. EST

You were right. We got the contract. US military wants 5000 to begin with. And I am sorry about the last email I sent you. I shouldn't have doubted you. You've proven yourself time and again to be in control of things. I'm much more calm about it now that this meeting is over and went well.

Take care, Brother.

Frederick Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Technologies
JOURNAL 08DESIREE

ENTRY 007

DATE: 4/4/2074

I have found her. I have found the woman You sent me for, God, and I have seen what must be done. When I saw her face, You revealed to me the Devil in her soul. She is the ultimate evil, and You have placed me here so that I might remove her from this Earth. I, Your humble servant. It pains me, what I had to do to Justice to get away, but he will awaken soon. I checked his pulse. He was only unconscious. I shall take any punishment You see fit for that.

I fear that the other woman with her must share her fate. She has been tainted by the Devil's evil touch. They were kissing. Two women. A woman and the Devil. An abomination either way. If You can save her soul, please do. But the Devil woman, she must no longer blight the Earth. This, I shall do for You.

Amen.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 008

DATE: 4/5/2074

She fucking killed her dead. I don't know what I think. I just know what I feel. I feel like fucking killing that bitch in the business suit. Desiree didn't do a damn thing. We could have lived this all out in innocence. I know I didn't always fucking plan it that way, but it could have happened. Instead, she killed Desiree. I got there just in time to watch her fall. I couldn't save a fucking bit of her. Whatever that psychotic bitch used against her, it charred all her skin, all the grass. I couldn't even save her medallion. Melted. Once I realized it, I even had to leave her corpse there. I just... the radiation, or whatever makes these fucking medallions work. I couldn't have done a damn thing if that killed me. It still might, as far as I know. Or maybe it was safe. Maybe it doesn't fucking matter. That seems the highest probability. Sure, I'd like to survive it out to the end, but I'm seeing that it ain't fucking likely.

So I'll just survive long enough to get things done. Desiree was weak. She obviously wasn't in her own fucking head anymore, and that bitch just flat out murdered her. So she'll see just what it's like. If I die in the process, I don't give a fuck. She'll pay, and that's what matters. Desiree deserves that much.

I'll do it for her. I failed to keep her safe, but that's over. It's too fucking late for her, but not for her memory. Now, I don't believe in any kind of God or nothing, but she did. And I'm swearing to whatever fucking God she thinks might have loved her: I ain't fucking letting this go.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 007

DATE: 4/10/2074

Well, I guess I've done it, haven't I? Blake's mine. Not yours and your silly little social experiment or whatever you're officially calling this thing. No. He's all mine. Amazing what a little bit of skin can do. It was even worth the blow job, I'd say. I've sucked worse dick.

Anything I want, I know he'll do for me. Or at least try. I just have to make sure that I ask him for things I know he can provide. Things he knows. Things he can actually find. Or just to go the fuck away. I've already gotten rid of him a few times so I could go out looking. Listen to me, thinking you don't know. Sometimes it's easy to forget that you're right here with me the whole way. You hid your cameras very well. It's a testament to your skill. Or your pocketbook. More like the second one, right? Right. It's okay, I'll take your secrets to the grave.

Assuming I die here. Who knows, though? I've got a hell of a tool with this kid at my disposal. Pretty much whatever I need. If I squeeze out a few tears, he might even make a good human shield. And a willing one, more importantly. He's not exactly small. I doubt I could muscle him in front of me in time to take a hit. Or get him on the trigger end of one of these medallions. That'll save me a hell of a lot of trouble, and a lot of guilt. And think about the good it'll do you. I can see the teaser now: manipulative cunt leads young boy down wrong path. This week on our fucked up show. Or something like that. Let the editors make it all pretty.

We'll just have to wait and see about all that, though. If I do get out, I'll be seeing you, Evenstad. If not, I guess I'll save you a seat. Do you want the smoking or the non-smoking section in Hell? Personally, I think we should take smoking. It's not like it'll kill us at that point, right?

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 008

DATE: 4/12/2074

I fear what I must do, now. It is not pleasant, nor is it all that wise, necessarily. But alas, I can think of nothing more to make myself useful. It is the best option. Not for myself, but for Craig. He does not need me around. I simply eat his food and exist. I hold such a young, brilliant lad back from properly surviving. I am a weight to him. Too old and too weak and just generally too useless.

I have David's medallion. It will be enough to help me, if it comes to that. However I do not see it coming to that. I do not see a reason to fight. I do not see a reason not to cry. I am eighty-one years old. I should no longer have to worry about what others would think of me, least of all strangers watching television, or strangers trying to kill me, or strangers who locked me in a trailer park for three and a half months.

It's not important, though. What matters is that I must leave. Craig will do better, and I will leave him my original medallion. I don't want to take it with me, and he has made far better use of it than I ever did. I could not even use it to save David. I could not use it to save that boy, Nathan. But by my abandonment, I will use it to save Craig. At least for today. I will slip off into this trailer park and find myself a grave. Or I will escape and find my grave abroad. Either way, my fate will be the same.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 008

DATE: 4/12/2074

Someone found us. I don't know how. Probably by chance. No other way they could have come across us. I know we've been careful enough about everything. Between her denial and my trying to keep her safe, we've been fine.

Fate is a bitch. If one person found us, what are the odds it's only one? Against everything logical, Julia and I found each other. There's no reason for me to believe that that woman didn't find someone else to be around. She could easily have been the first one. Someone's out there watching us.

God damn it, I'm starting to sound like some psycho bitch. I mean, I'm seeing the logic in Julia's plan. I sure as hell want to ignore this whole thing, I can tell you that.

That's why we're leaving. I don't like it, but I'm doing badly enough as it is, and Julia's showing the strain of this whole event. I know it was her idea, but I wish she hadn't had it. I wish she hadn't come out at all. It hasn't helped. She's acting strong and all, but I know she's breaking down. She doesn't want to, and it's not the same as she was, but it's close. She's refusing to ignore it, but I can see it. She hardly sleeps. She has horrible bags and dark circles. I'm halfway waiting for a streak of her damn hair to turn white.

But there's more. There's always more. And I feel like shit because of it. Sometimes, if I'm not asleep, either, my brain starts pointing things out. Well, just one thing. Julia doesn't have a damn reason to be this upset. And I know she does, but I keep thinking she doesn't. That lady didn't come after her. She came after me.

ENTRY END
BREAKING NEWS: US Military Enters Multi-Million Dollar Deal with Evenstad Technologies

4/3/2074 at 3:16 p.m. EST

On Tuesday, April 3rd, United States Secretary of Defense, Lena Browne, announced a $300,000,000 dollar deal with Evenstad Technologies for the purchase of 5,000 Controlled Energy Storage Units (CESUs). The announcement was made in accordance with the terms of their agreement, in which Evenstad Technologies' Chief Operating Officer, Frederick Evenstad, insisted on full disclosure of the purchase.

When asked about the rumors claiming that the militaries of other countries have also been seen using weapons that appear to be of the same or similar design (most famously, the Golden Orb Incident in Norway), Mr. Evenstad had this to say:

"We are an American company. We will do good for America and not her enemies. Of that, I can assure you. Anyone claiming that we have sold these technologies to opposing military forces is leveling an insult against this company, and hence against my family."

The US military intends to buy a further, unspecified number of CESUs, barring any CONT, A11
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 008

DATE: 4/15/2074

Can't lie. Beginning to lose hope. I'm not made for this. Can kill if I need to. I know that much. Not a hunter. Haven't found anyone yet. Camping out in this trailer for the night. Looks like someone was here. Don't know how long ago. They might come back.

Old trailer hasn't caught anyone. All traps still untripped. It's harder than I thought. Too bad they don't have cashiering challenges. Might win those.

I can still win this, though. It just could take a while. Not ideal, but could be worse. I know I can make it through to the end. Unless I die of old age first, I'll walk away.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 006

DATE: 4/15/2074

I've got something for Rita. I just know she'll like it. I think she will, anyway. I mean, it's not like she needs it. Rita's a fucking badass. Like, the kind of chick you'd see in a vampire movie or some shit. She can take care of herself. But I still want her to be safe.

I found a medallion out and around. It's a pretty nice one, too. But, you know, anything would be better in a fight than her telekinesis thing. I mean, she can lift shit and move it around, but that's really not much when someone's got your head in their sights.

It's, like, a fist. An invisible fist, but it's really strong. I don't know how to describe it, really. It doesn't matter. I know she can use it. Either of us could but... I don't know. I think she should have it, not me. I just don't feel right leaving her without any protection. It's not right. I'll be fine. I've got my shotgun thing. I'll be good to go. No problem. At least, I hope it's no problem. I still might have to go through and try to find another one. Or two. Or ten. That would sure as hell be nice, God damn it.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 008

DATE: 4/16/2074

Manfred's gone. He's been gone for a while, but I've been working through things as best I can. I don't know why he left. There was a note, but it wasn't informative at all. I'm sorry. That's all he gave me was 'I'm sorry' scratched into the door. Not a damn word about it. And he left everything here. His medallion's still hooked up into the perimeter defenses. If he'd told me, I would have helped him out. Disconnected it. And maybe gotten an explanation out of him about the whole mess.

I didn't realize how much I would miss him, when he was gone. I knew we wouldn't stick around together forever. If nothing else, he would have probably died off before me. Yeah... too morbid. Bad mistake on my part. It sure as hell won't help my mood at all.

I tell you what. This may all be ridiculous, and it may be completely stupid on my part, and he might not even consider offering me up the same courtesy, but I can't leave Manfred be. Assuming we run into each other at some point before the game ends... when else would we run into each other? If we run into each other, I'll help him out. I don't know how, but I'll figure a way. He deserves that, a nice guy like him. He should never have been here. I'm writing it down so that I'm accountable. Now there's at least some kid of record, even if no one will see it.

ENTRY END
Unexpected Success for 'The Park'

4/17/2074 at 8:16 p.m. EST

Three and a half months. That's a hell of a life for any TV show nowadays, especially a reality show. We can only watch people play mind games and sidestep social pitfalls for so long before it loses its luster. Even the most long-lived reality competitions eventually die off.

And then we have The Park. It's still in the number one spot, and the ratings are still rising. Evenstad Media's making a ton of money on it, and they only seem to be fixing to make more and more.

Of course, the whole success of the show is in the characters. I know, I know, they're contestants, not characters. But those contestants sure are some characters.

I know, I know, it's a bad joke. Sue me. But they are. I don't know if I can honestly believe that they were randomly selected. It's just a little too perfect at times, the way some of them interact and react.

Personally? I prefer Susan. She's driven. More than any of them, she wants it, I think. She wants it badly. More than the other contestants. She's already killed for it once, and I doubt it's going to be the last time we see that. Craig needs to watch out, when she finally finds him. I'd be scared shitless if I knew she was out there looking for me, even if I had a real electric fence set up.

I'll definitely keep tuning in every week, and I suggest you all join me. You won't be sorry.

Phil Boggs
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 009

DATE: 4/18/2074

I just realized how fucked I am without Manfred around here. Or after he left. Or something. I'm just... I'm so frazzled. I can't believe I missed something so obvious as this. I don't have anything left if someone gets through. My perimeter isn't flawless by any definition, and I know for a fact that Susan, at least, is looking for me. I don't know how close she is. Hell, maybe she's dead, but I doubt that. I really doubt that.

I have the weak laser thing, yeah, but I don't know how much it's really going to do up against flesh and bone. I'm not all that afraid of it, and I have it right up by my face when I work with it.

Which means I have to go out. Either that or sit and wait and pray that I never have to fight anyone off. Which I'd rather not risk. If I stick with that theory, that's when Susan'll show up. So going out it is. I have enough protection that, if I don't find anything out there, I can be kind of safe. Kind of. So I don't have to leave for long, I hope. Five or six hours, at most, and I hope not that long. But I really need to track something down out there. Otherwise, Susan'll show up and blast a hole right through my skull, just like she did with Tina. Wouldn't that be lovely?

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 006

DATE: 4/17/2074

I have to write this journal while Christina's asleep. Of course, she sleeps most of the time nowadays, anyway. Poor thing. She just hasn't been right since that attack. But I have. That's why she can't see this.

I know it's wrong, but I liked it. I liked being that close to death. It wasn't my death, and maybe that's the big difference. It probably is, I suppose. I'd be even worse off than she is if that woman had been coming after me. I bet she would have, after she took care of Christina, but I don't know. In her place... well, I can't say. I don't think I can put myself in that state of mind, really.

I know it's not right for Christina. She's been acting so weird lately. Not herself at all. When I met her, she looked like power. Plain and simple power and control, and nothing else about her. Now... I don't know. She's cracking, I guess. Things are starting to get to her. She's told me a couple times now that it would be best for me to just leave her, since she's a weak link. But I cracked too. A lot more than she did, and for a lot less. But she was there. I'm hardly just going to leave her to fend for herself now. It wouldn't be right. And I'd miss her. A lot. Really a lot.

But I have an idea, too. I think I can get her to snap back together. At least well enough for her to keep playing this game. Or it could really wreck her up. Like, a lot worse than she is right now. A lot. But she always tried to do the right thing with me. That meant letting me figure out my own stupidity without a lot of interference. I don't think letting her sit and go stale is good. I've got to take an active role in getting her put back together. And I'm hoping that a trip outside is the right thing.

But I worry that it's just me wanting to go out, too. Because I do want to. It was so exciting... I just have to think about it and trust my instincts. What else is there?

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 009

DATE: 4/21/2074

Found Craig. Moved in close by for now. He's good. Managed to set up traps. Obvious traps. Probably has others. Smart kid. Won't be too easy. I can manage. A lot of money when I do. Going to watch him move for a while. Find where he doesn't step. It won't be long. He's smart, not sneaky. Not too sneaky, at least.

Considered shooting a hole through the house. Be easier. But too noticeable. Could see that golden ball almost anywhere. Not worth the risk, now. Not if I don't have to. Have to get a clean shot. Every shot I make is worth almost two million. Twenty million divided by twelve. I'll take my time.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 007

DATE: 4/21/2074

I already hate myself for what I'm going to do. It makes me want to puke just thinking about it. But I have to. I'm going to take Christina outside today. Back to where we were when that woman tried to kill her. Or nearby. As long as she realizes that's where we are, it'll work just fine.

And I have to scare her. I don't know how, yet. I can figure that out later. But it has to happen. It's the only way I can think to maybe jog her back into herself. Maybe. Or ruin her. Or... I need to stop. I can't keep worrying about it. But I should. But I can't.

I hate this.

ENTRY END
NOTICE FOR ALL RESIDENTS

Fort Lewis will be hosting military training exercises from Sunday, April 22nd to Saturday, April 28th. All non-military personnel are banned from the premises, barring special permit. Dangerous weapons will be present. For the safety of all involved, a 50 foot perimeter will be maintained around the airport. Any persons attempting to cross will be arrested and fined a maximum penalty of $100,000 and serve a minimum six-month prison sentence.

The training may produce strange lights and sounds. Please do not be alarmed by these. Everything is well under control. In the event of a disaster, all citizens within a one-mile radius will be immediately evacuated. While we do not anticipate any such failures, please be prepared for any eventuality.

Lena Browne, United States Secretary of Defense
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 009

DATE: 4/23/2074

I haven't fucking left, yet. I found those two ladies, but I can't make myself fucking go over there and just do it. Or even try to do it. It wouldn't be difficult. Just set the fucking house on fire. If she runs, I could get her. I only need to take out the business suit, after all.

But I don't want to. I ain't a fucking killer. I know I need to be. I need to be for Desiree's sake. Fuck, it's for my sake just as much. Probably more. Desiree don't fucking know what's going on. Not anymore. She won't fucking know anything ever again. Just thinking about it makes me so mad, I can't hardly fucking think. Which is probably how I need to feel to get this done.

The bitch in the business suit. She's the one who has to suffer. For all the pain she caused. She deserves the absolute worst. I think I can do it. I hope I can. I ain't a killer. But this ain't real life, so I don't have to be me. Ain't that just fucking wonderful?

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 009

DATE: 4/23/2074

I went out with Julia. Back to that spot where the crazy psycho lady tried to kill me. I knew what she was doing. She's not stealthy at all. But I played along. Her little trick didn't scare me, pretending to see someone. I attacked them and acted, for her.

What scared me was what I did see. There was someone out there. A real someone. I couldn't get a good look. They weren't wanting to be seen, and no matter how used to the dim lights I was, it wasn't hard to hide yourself. But there was definitely someone. I saw them a few times, following along with us. I didn't tell Julia. She thinks I'm breaking. Maybe I am. But she's still fragile, too. Can't worry her, and I didn't want her to think I was just seeing things. That wouldn't make her feel better about any of this.

Of course, maybe I am seeing things. I don't like it at all, though. Real or not, there's someone. I'm not looking outside. I might see whoever this bastard is. If he's real. Or she. Or it. I don't know. I just don't fucking know.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 010

DATE: 4/24/2074

The house isn't right. Everything looks right... but nothing looks right. Like someone was in here. Which worries me. I checked through every room and didn't see anyone. But one of the traps got tripped. A net I made from bed linens. But it's been cut through. Or burned through, judging by the marks.

I shouldn't worry. I'm just paranoid, and I know that. It doesn't help that I didn't find anything to help fight anyone who might show up. No luck at all. Which sucks ass.

I still can't shake the feeling that I'm not safe here. But I'd be a lot less safe if I tried to move. Definitely. I just... I'll have to get over it. I'm writing it here: at this exact moment, I'm going to pull myself together. Doesn't do me any good to worry about the things that could be happening, or that could happen at some point in the future.

I sure do make a lot of affirmations in this damn journal.

While I'm being unrealistically positive, I may as well write about how they're bound to let us all out. And about how Tina's not really dead. I'd throw in how it might all be a dream, but I don't think that would be all that good. What the hell would it say about me if my brain could come up with this kind of shit?

ENTRY END
Evenstad Enterprises Expands to Include New Agricultural Arm, Evenstad Farms

4/24/2074 at 2:19 p.m. EST

Today, Evenstad Enterprises, parent company of Evenstad Technologies, Evenstad Media, Evenstad Foods, and over a dozen other companies, announced yet another member to their family: Evenstad Farms. According to newly appointed COO of Evenstad Farms, Marta Evenstad, their goal will be to 'acquire new, fertile farmland, then ensure it is properly tended so as to avoid the past mistakes of the human race.'

For the past several decades, viable farmland has been scarce. If Evenstad Farms' plans work out, it could be a new beginning. While no more information is available at this time, we will keep you up to date as news reaches us here at The Cruise.
JOURNAL 11SUSAN

ENTRY 010

DATE: 4/26/2074

Kid's good. Got me in a net. Burned my leg cutting my way out with that laser. But I'm alive. Good news. All I need.

Know the layout. Electric wire. Been watching. Craig will come back soon. I'll be there. Then I can have his house. Two million dollar headshot. Just like a pretty model boy.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 011

DATE: 4/27/2074

It's over. I don't have to worry about Susan at all, now. Not even in my dreams. After I killed her, it all stopped. I was so relieved, I sobbed when I woke up.

Honestly, I don't remember that much of it. I'd gone out looking for a CESU to help protect myself. When I got back, she ambushed me. I sprained my ankle getting away, but I'm still here to feel the pain. Not too much complaint. All I had to work with was the little laser I'd been using to bust into the CESUs. Hell, it could have been useless. But I took my shot when it presented itself. Clean through her forehead and out the other side. And that was it. No more Susan. No more nightmares.

I searched her body right after I was sure she was dead. If I'd let her go cold, I just don't know if I could have done it. She had a nasty burn on her calf. I would bet she was the one that tripped the net. Caught herself with a CESU cutting her way out.

And she had three CESUs. Tina's, her little laser, and a third one. I can't believe that they would actually leave that last one around for just anyone to find. It was a big, golden ball of heat. Or hot light. It was ridiculous, though. I fired it and it just kept going. Don't know what ended up happening to it after it got out of sight, but the fact that it was powerful enough to even go out of sight before dissipating proves how ridiculous it is. I'm glad I have it. I can keep it locked away from everyone else. Nobody needs that kind of power. The other two, I'll figure out something for. I'll probably keep Susan's original medallion just the way it is. Tina's would make a decent booby trap. Doesn't look like it had a whole lot of range, but it's definitely got some power. And it's loud, too. Good alarm. I just have to figure out how to work it to make it as effective as possible.

It's not all good, though. I don't have nightmares about Susan, but I can't get her out of my head. I killed her. I killed another human being. I keep telling myself that she was a psychopath or a sociopath or something, and that she would have killed me just as dead as I killed her, but it doesn't help. I didn't feel remorse. Or not enough remorse, at least. I know it's stupid, but I feel like I should feel worse. Instead, all I think about is how good it all is. No more Susan to worry about. It's so damn nice... but I don't think it should be nice.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 010

DATE: 4/27/2074

I see him all the time. Everywhere. Never head on. He's always outside. I can see his shadow out of the corner of my eye. Behind the curtains, shadowed footsteps passing by the door. I see them in the tiny space above the kick plate. He'll stop. If I'm quiet, I can hear him breathing. I know he's real. Julia doesn't believe me when I talk about him, but I'm not crazy enough to hear things that aren't there. I refuse to believe that. I'm not that creative. He's out there, just waiting for me. If I hold still, and I have the windows open and the lights off, he'll come closer. Close enough to see some of his features, although I don't get much in the darkness. He's tall and he's broad and I can't tell for certain, but I think he's black. It doesn't matter. He's already here. It's not like I'm going to go looking for him. No need to pick him out of a lineup or anything. I just know that he's big and the idea of running into him scares the shit out of me.

I don't know why he's just waiting around and stalking me. He's probably had lots of clear chances to take me down. Then again, why the hell haven't I done the same thing? That one, I know how to answer. As much as I want to be sure of everything, and as much as I think I'm not imagining this, there's enough doubt in there that I can't. What would Julia think if I just melted out the window because... well, because of nothing? For no reason? I don't think she'd abandon me for it, but she'd see me in a less flattering light. We'd have to move to a new house again, too. This one's relatively safe. If I'm just nuts and seeing things, it's really safe. Completely safe. I can't be sure one way or another. So I just have to sit here and hear him and see him stalking around the house and try to pretend that I'm fine when Julia's around.

That'll work.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 009

DATE: 4/28/2074

I have neglected my journaling, and this time I have no good reason for doing so. I was already moving out in the open. The light would not have given me away any more than my walking about. I know better than this. Or I should.

I have finally found a new home, for the time being. I passed it by several times in my search, but I have finally settled back here. I was hoping for another suitable place, but this is the safest, even though I have neighbors. Neighbors I certainly don't want. A boy and a young woman. I fear they must be the same two who killed David. Fate would be so cruel.

There is a home between us, but I hardly think that is enough of a barrier between myself and Death. It seems I won't escape, no matter how hard I try to escape. Or perhaps I am simply reading too much into all of this. It is coincidence. There are only so many homes, and I am sure several of them have been compromised during this competition. We are bound to find one another at some point. Yes, we can all pretend that there are no walls, but they are there, and they hold us here. We will meet. It is simply the way things are, and I have found myself once more in the company of murderers.

If we are bound by some sort of fate or destiny, I am glad I left. More than glad. If we would have met no matter what, I would rather we meet here than put Craig or anyone else in danger for the sake of my fate.

I throw up every day, now. I tell myself it's from nerves, which is possible. It is likely part of the issue. But not entirely. I know that. I am unwell, and have been for some time. I struggle to keep food in my stomach.

So it's not a question of if I shall survive, but rather what will kill me. Will it be the boy? The woman? Or myself? I find I no longer contemplate suicide. At first, it seemed a good thing. But now I wonder if it is not simply my body signaling how close to death I truly stand.

ENTRY END
WHO IS GOING TO WIN THE PARK?

POLL 3

1: Justice (20%)

2: Rita (15%)

3: Blake (13%)

4: Christina (12%)

5: Craig (11%)

6: Julia (9%)

7: Manfred (8%)

8: Susan (7%)

9: Tina (2%)

10: David (1%)

11: Desiree (1%)

12: Nathan (1%)

(Information Collected by The Cruise)
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 010

DATE: 5/1/2074

I'm fucking exhausted. I just can't manage to make myself sleep anymore. It seems like I pop back up as soon as I close my fucking eyes. My arms and legs are always sore, which just makes everything that much fucking harder.

I know why I can't sleep, and I know what I need to do to make it better. I just... I just don't think I fucking can, still. I'm watching and I'm waiting for the right time, but the right time's come three dozen fucking times over and I still just stalk around her house. I see her moving, I see straight in there when the curtains are drawn.

That bitch in the business suit, she has to pay. And she will. I already swore that. It's just... it's a lot fucking harder than they make it look in the movies and on TV and shit. If I could do it without looking, maybe. But I might miss. And I'm not willing to do that. Sure, it would give one of them a chance to kill me first, but that's not the real problem. No, I just don't want the death to spread any further than it has to. This is between the two of us. No one else needs to be caught in the fucking crossfire. One death. Then, as far as I'm concerned, I can fucking drop dead right there. Just so long as I know I've done my duty for Desiree. Let her lady take me down, then.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 008

DATE: 5/2/2074

Well, well, it's been a while, hasn't it Evenstad? I didn't mean to leave you like this for so long. I'm sure you've missed hearing from me. But, of course, you can just watch your little recordings and find out what I'm up to. I'm sure you do that with all of us anyway. And I'm sure you've seen the little gift Blake gave me. I didn't even solicit that from him. He just wanted to give it to me to try and keep me safe. Which is just so sweet. I couldn't very well tell him that I was well armed enough anyway, could I? It would have crushed his poor little heart.

It might come in handy, though. We just got a new neighbor. I haven't told Blake about it yet. I might not. It's an old guy. Probably not a threat. I've been keeping an eye on him, though. And I hardly need to point out how it's probably keeping your viewers interested. We've already pretty well established how wonderful I must be for ratings. But damn it if I don't just love reminding you.

If he gets in the way, I'll see if I can't get Blake to help me out. Since he's so much better at all of this than I am. I've never hurt anyone, after all. Just ask me. I'll tell you.

We're into the fifth month of this, you know. I've had relationships that didn't last half this long. I bet you feel pretty special, don't you? If not, you should. Sure, you locked me into a fucking box and surrounded me with armed guards, but I stuck around. Good use of your skills, though. If I didn't think you were the lowest scum on Earth, I might consider taking this to the next level.

But for now, go fuck yourself.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 011

DATE: 5/2/2074

Maybe it is me. It's got to be at this point. It's not just the big black guy I'm seeing. And it's not just outside, either. They're in here with me. And they're not friendly. Not that I thought the big guy was, but these are worse. They aren't here now, thank God, but I know they aren't far. In the kitchen. Under the bed. I sound like some little kid, waiting for Mommy to check the closet.

That's why I know something's not right. And that's why I told Julia. She just smiled and held me, but I know what she's thinking. No, fuck it, that's bullshit. I know what I would be thinking. What I was thinking when I saw Julia breaking. It wasn't anything bad. I just wanted to make it better. I know that's all she wants.

But she can't make it better. I know that. And I think she does, too. It sucks. I'm just scared, all the time. Even more than I was before. Hell, I'm halfway looking forward to seeing that big black guy skulking around outside. At least he's the nicest one of them I see. And he doesn't have horns, or extra arms, or red eyes. He's a person, real or not. At least I know what I can probably expect from him.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 007

DATE: 5/2/2074

I've been starting to get some weird feelings about this whole thing with Rita. She keeps wandering off by herself. At first, yeah, I was just worried because I know she doesn't want to kill anyone if she can help it. Who does? But she's acting all secretive and stuff when she comes back. She won't tell me anything about it, and I just can't help but think that it's not nothing, like she keeps saying. She's hiding something from me. I don't want to believe that. I really, really don't want to believe that. But how can I not think it's true? I mean, eventually one of us is going to end up dead, and I'm pretty sure that her plan is for that one to not be her. Which means that somewhere in this whole plan, she knows she might have to kill me. So I should get on board with that, too. If I'm walking out of here, it's pretty possible that I'm going to have to get rid of Rita.

God damn it, this all sucks ass. Big, hairy ass. She's been nothing but nice to me. She's kept me sane and kept my head straight through this whole game, right from the first second I met her. I don't know, I probably would have broken down and either killed myself or done something stupid to get myself killed if she hadn't talked me down after I took care of that first guy. But I just can't shake this stupid suspicion that something's not right. Like, at all. Something really deep down in this whole thing is rotten, but I don't know what. Maybe it's not even Rita, and I'm just putting everything on her because she's an easy target. Fuck, maybe being stuck in here for month after month without any light is starting to get to me. That's a thing that happens, right? We need sunlight to stay happy. That's what Mom always told me. I hated hearing it. It meant I had to go outside. But maybe she was right.

God, I miss her. And Dad. If I get out of here with the money, I'm going to pay everything off for them. The house, the cars, everything. And we can go on a big vacation with everything that's left over. They deserve that. Of course, if I win, I might not.

ENTRY END
US AIRCRAFT SIGHTED OVER EGYPT

5/6/2074 at 11:19 a.m. EST

Early this morning, three US military drones were supposedly spotted on a flight path over Giza, Egypt. While the actual designation of the aircraft is not confirmed, several members of the Egyptian military believe that the airplanes were on an intelligence gathering mission. The US military has denied comment on the incident.

According to civilians who witnessed the event, the aircraft were visible for several hours. Information will be released as it is made available to us here at The Cruise.
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 008

DATE: 5/7/2074

I screwed up. I never should have taken Christina outside like that. It didn't help her at all. Now she's seeing demons around here. I just... I think I might take away her medallion. She's been stable enough up until now, but I can't count on that forever. She could hurt me, or hurt herself. Get us found. Too many horrible things could happen if she had a break of some kind. I feel so guilty even considering it, but it's true. I don't want to get hurt, but I really don't want her to get hurt. I don't know quite what to do about it. I'm just going to have to wait before I make any big decisions like that. I trust her, but I know it's not quite her in there right now.

I hate this whole place for what it's done to her. I've only had Christina in my life for a short time, and damned if I'm going to throw her back out there without a knock-down drag-out.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 012

DATE: 5/7/2074

I can't believe I'm actually writing this. I'm feeling... good. I mean, not great or anything. I'm still stuck here. But ever since Susan went away, I'm calmer. I guess I maybe just needed sleep? I don't know. I'm not a doctor or anything like that, so I can't say for sure. I just know what I'm feeling. And, compared to how things have been, it's pretty awesome. I even found another CESU. It's not all that useful. At least not directly. It makes it dark. Completely black dark, not the mostly dark it is outside the trailers.

Which would be a lot more useful if I thought someone else was going to break into the house. I suppose it's possible, but I've done my best to fix my defenses. I've hidden them better, and I don't leave anymore. Not that I really need to. I've got enough CESUs to stay pretty safe as it is. I might find a use for the darkness CESU yet. I don't know.

It's funny. Ever since I woke up here, I thought I was, like, cursed. Doomed. Screwed. Fucked over. Whatever you want to say. But I'm finding that lately, I haven't felt nearly as hopeless. It all goes back to Susan's death. She was, like, my personal boogeyman from the first second I ran away. Now everything's better. Still sucks, but it's better. I mean, I actually think I might be able to win this thing. Twenty million dollars. Probably less than ten million after taxes, but I can live on that. I can thrive on that. Start up my own business. Or maybe take some time off and work on my own computer. Give Evenstad a run for their money. Assuming that they don't decide I should suddenly lose after they read that. But I don't think they will. I broke into their CESUs and saw all the internal workings. I mucked around with the wiring. I hardly think developing a minor competitor would be worse than that to them. But knowing that I might be able to use the money they give me to rob them of even a fraction of their sales... it's a good feeling. And it wouldn't hurt my pocketbook at all.

God, I'm so glad no one else reads this. I'd sound like such an egomaniac to an outsider looking in.

ENTRY END
TO: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: CESU Order

SENT 5/9/2074 AT 7:39 a.m. EST

Frederick,

I want to tell you how absolutely thrilled I am to hear about the new order. 10,000 more CESUs, and the Secretary of Defense wants a rush on the order. It's fantastic news. I told you this would all work out. I hope you'll trust me more from now on. This is going to make us a lot of money, Brother. Retirement money. Retirement in Hawaii money. Private island money.

I'm sorry for gushing. It's just that this is what I've been aiming for from the beginning. Once Marta's part in this endeavor is complete, we'll never have to worry again. Or our grandchildren. Or any member of the Evenstad family, even if the business does go under for some insane reason.

Carry on, Brother,

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 009

DATE: 5/12/2074

Well, I finally reached a decision on that old man. I guess we both knew that it was already decided, didn't we, Evenstad? I mean, he would have to die. Only one of us can live, and I intend for it to be me. I don't want him to die. Let's get that clear now. As much as you've put me through with this shit, I don't want to kill anyone. I don't want anyone to die. Not even you bastards, if you can buy that.

I don't think he'll die today. If I can manage it, I don't want to have anything to do with it. Not even through Blake. I don't know if he would do it for me right now, anyway. His faith is shaken, which doesn't work for me. I need to have him firmly obeying me, just in case. I'll have to work on that.

Talk to you later, jackass.

ENTRY END
TO: William Mather <wmather@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Suzanne Young <syoung@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: The Park Contestant Selection

SENT 11/28/2073 AT 10:06 a.m. EST

Mr. Mather.

Mr. Evenstad is most pleased with your selection of contestants for The Park. He and I both realize that this is very short notice, and he sends his deepest apologies to you, but he is concerned with the lack of diversity within your choices.

There is an even split between genders and socioeconomic standing and, although we would prefer to have more than just Craig to represent gay men, so as to have more of a chance for a relationship to form, the rating increase would be minimal enough that it isn't an issue worth your time to fix.

However, Mr. Evenstad would like to make a replacement. The young, mid-low class female you have chosen fits the necessary criteria. However, Mr. Evenstad is concerned that she is somewhat plain. He would like you to try once more. While you are more than qualified to complete this job on your own, Mr. Evenstad had a small suggestion as to what he think may help. He would like, if it is possible and you believe her to be a good fit, a female in line with the 'alternative' stereotype. A bartender or roller derby girl. Something in that vein.

Please send the updated list to me as soon as possible. I realize this is very short notice, but Mr. Evenstad has complete confidence in you.

Regards,

Suzanne Young

Administrative Assistant to Niels Evenstad
JOURNAL 07JULIA

ENTRY 009

DATE: 5/12/2074

I had to take Christina's medallion. She's too hazardous with it, now. All the sudden, it's been going off 'accidentally.' I know she doesn't want me to know what's going on, but I do. She's seeing things, and now she's trying to attack them. It just doesn't work. We're lucky that no one's come looking for us. Christina's medallion isn't the most subtle thing in the world.

It's just weird, though. She was perfectly capable of controlling herself, even if she was seeing things. I don't know if something changed in the visions, or if she just snapped, or if, somehow, it really was an accident. Three times. I don't think it's an accident. But I just can't explain it. Not at all.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 010

DATE: 5/13/2074

I am still throwing up. There was blood today. I may not have a medical degree, but I know enough to realize that vomiting blood is not a good sign. I will not make it much longer at this rate. I have written as much in this journal before, however now I feel that the end is imminent, barring a miracle.

But I still believe that Natalie and the children shall be cared for after my death. That, at least, is a comfort I can take in these final days of mine. And if Evenstad doesn't care for them, I can only hope that ghosts are real, so I might haunt them to their death.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 012

DATE: 5/15/2074

He's been too close for too many days. I've taken my medallion back. I have to end this.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE

ENTRY 011

DATE: 5/15/2074

It's time. It's never going to get any fucking easier, so I just have to do it. I'm going to make that business suit cunt hurt. I've got fire. I've got the poison gas. It's ending. Now. Let's just hope I don't fucking pussy out again.

ENTRY END
US Meeting with Allied Military

5/13/2074 at 11:16 a.m. EST

Today, US Secretary of Defense Lena Browne and President Victor K. Larson announced a meeting later this week with the leaders of France, China, the United Kingdom, India, and Israel, all former allies of the United States during World War III. Watch us here at The Cruise for updates as this story unfolds.

UPDATE: 5/18/2074 at 3:01 p.m. EST: With the meeting over, the foreign dignitaries have returned to their homelands. President Larson and Secretary Browne have both declined comment.
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 013

DATE: 5/15/2074

I should have let Julia keep my medallion. Maybe this would all be different. Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe I just should have attacked faster.

That bastard wasn't after me. He went straight for Julia. What Julia did to him, I don't know. Maybe he knew her beforehand and had some damn grudge. I can't imagine what kind of grudge would justify setting someone on fire, but I'm learning more and more about just how fucked up people can be every day I'm in here.

Julia's alive, which should be a good thing. But it's not. She's burned half to death. More than half to death. Exposed bone kind of burned. Her breathing is weak. She keeps passing out, and it takes her longer and longer to wake up every time.

So I'm going to end it. I have to. For her. She made life here just a little more bearable for me. So I'm going to make death more bearable for her.

I don't know if anyone's going to see this, but I hope someone will. I hope someone finds just this one entry, and they can know how much I loved her. I loved her so much it hurts. I loved her so much I pulled the trigger.

ENTRY END
Ch. 696: THE PARK: 9 p.m. EST: As the drama continues, we finally see Justice's plan come to fruition. And it's darker than any ever thought. A darker fate even than death.
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 011

DATE: 5/18/2074

I do not quite understand how I should feel. I have stopped vomiting, but only by not eating. I don't bother anymore. It holds little purpose to me, anyway. I do not intend to survive long. And yet, with this new conviction, fate has seen fit to assuage my difficulties. I have strength again. Perhaps not the same strength I had when I arrived here, but certainly more than I have in the past weeks and months. I would otherwise think that this would be wonderful news. At my age, an increase in energy, or an increase in anything, to be totally frank about the whole thing, is normally cause for celebration. As I get older, things always seem to be going down. Energy, libido, finances. They go down more and more every year. Everything except cholesterol, it seems. That and the number of pills you end up taking every morning.

It never occurred to me before, but perhaps the lack of pills are to blame, in the end. I always considered myself lucky. I never had to take half as many medications as others my age. Even a quarter. I even prided myself, being able to skip them without ill effects. But that was one day or two days. It's been almost half a year. I can't see where that would be good. And I can't see where I missed it, either. I can only imagine it was the shock of the situation. I want to believe that. I do not want it to be the fault of my subconscious. I do not want to believe that I have so little control over my own mind that I would choose death like that, even while struggling to survive with David, and with Craig.

Yet I fear I already believe it. How could I not?

ENTRY END
TO: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>, Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Marta Evenstad <mevenstad@evenstadfarms.com>

SUBJECT: Farming Initiative

SENT 4/18/2074 AT 4:18 p.m. EST

Brothers,

We have found several very fertile areas, and they should be very simple to access. Most are in underprivileged countries, which will of course make our resources stretch further than they would in less impoverished areas. Our largest obstacle will be Egypt, but I'm confident that what we have will be more than sufficient.

I anxiously await your reaction, Brothers,

Marta Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Farms

—

TO: Marta Evenstad <mevenstad@evenstadfarms.com>

FROM: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Farming Initiative

SENT 4/18/2074 AT 4:22 p.m. EST

Continue on. You are in charge of this part of things. I trust you implicitly in this matter.

Frederick Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Technologies

—

TO: Marta Evenstad <mevenstad@evenstadfarms.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Farming Initiative

SENT 4/18/2074 AT 4:31 p.m. EST

Sister,

I knew from the beginning that you would be the right choice for this. I am so very proud of you. Words can hardly suffice. Carry on. We will support you in any way necessary. I will see to that personally. You know I would never let you down, dear sister. And I know that you will do what you think is best to see this plan to fruition.

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 013

DATE: 5/19/2074

It's time, I think. I'm armed, I've killed. And I'm okay with that. As okay as I can be with that. The house will be safe. I doubt Susan made it through the first time, so even if someone chases me, they'll either get caught in a trap when I get here or have to stop and figure it out. Unless they just kill me from afar. But I don't see that happening. I'll take the darkness medallion out with me. That should be ample camouflage.

Yeah. I'm going out. It's against everything I've worked for so far in this game, but I've also changed my focus. I don't just have my own survival in mind, now. It's that money. I know I can get my hands on it. I just have to be the last one.

I'm really ensuring my own safety, anyway, taking the others out of the picture. I just hope Manfred's dead. I don't think I could do anything so vile to him. Of course, I could just wait him out, if we're the last two. I don't like to think about it, but he's not a young man, and he wasn't well last time I saw him. Chances are good he's dead or dying. And if he's already dead, the only way I can keep my promise is to get the money and give some of it to his family, or make them shareholders in the computer business, or name them as my beneficiaries when I die. Which means I have to make it out of here. Which means I have to be the last one. Or Manfred does. I could die and let him leave. Which is another reason I kind of hope I don't have to take part in him dying. I don't think that the best thing for him could be a hole in the head. I think leaving might be better, if he's alive. I know I'd prefer it. Just thinking about it, my promise is at odds with the idea of that money.

But I can't focus on that now, anyway. He's probably dead already. Poor guy. So I have to get the money. I'm taking a few of the CESUs with me, but not my work laser, or that damn heat gun thing. That still doesn't need to be in anyone's hands. Not even mine. I can just hope that it rots away in here after this is all over.

And so I go.

ENTRY END
THE PARK: REALITY SHOW OR WAR MACHINE?

5/16/2074 at 6:59 a.m. EST

If you've had access to TV, radio, internet, or snail mail in the past five and a half months, you've most likely heard of The Park, the newest brain baby from Evenstad Media. A dozen 'random' strangers thrown into a locked down trailer park and ordered to be the last one standing. But not unarmed. They're given CESUs, little medallions that, for lack of any better example, work like magic. This one makes fire, this one makes lightning, this one shoots a laser.

But now, we're starting to see CESUs outside of the realm of entertainment. First, the US military bought an unspecified number of CESUs directly from Evenstad Technologies. Now, other countries, former US allies, have announced the same things. Suddenly, the world is flooded with tens of thousands of these devil machines, all put in the hands of trained soldiers.

And then came Evenstad Farms. Out of the blue, from a conglomerate that has never before shown any interest in agriculture, we see this new project. They want to not only help poor farmers in other countries, they want to increase food production to try and keep the world fed. A wonderful, noble cause, undertaken by what is arguably the largest corporate giant in existence today.

Personally, I just don't buy it. It's all too convenient. All the sudden, as soon as the announcement was made about Evenstad Farms, we start seeing US military aircraft around the Nile Delta. The most fertile land since the Garden of Eden.

The Park was just a commercial. They wanted important figures to see exactly what the CESUs could do. They wanted to work a deal. Evenstad Enterprises, as a whole, has enough influence to get its way, and they've done so in grand fashion, not even trying to hide what's happening. I'd put down good money that we're going to see one of the first Evenstad Farms popping up somewhere in Egypt, and not too long from now. And when that day comes, I can only hope that the farm gets burned to the ground. People have to send a message to companies like Evenstad. We can't be caught up by them, become their puppets. If we do, we're no better than lab mice. They'll keep us around until we're no longer necessary. You can call me crazy all you like, but human beings are already a valuable commodity in certain circles. If Evenstad is willing to start a war to make some profits, or whatever else they might be after in this new scheme, what's going to make them stop there if no one stands against them? What's to stop them making Evenstad Escorts, or Evenstad Medical Test Subjects, or Evenstad Soylent Green? Not a damn thing but time and opportunity.

Be wary, friends,

Lars Krane
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 014

DATE: 5/19/2074

Evenstad is going to pay dearly for what they've done to everyone here. For what happened to Julia. For what happened to me. I'm going to get that money, and I'm going to sink every last penny of it they give me into ruining them, once I get out. For years, I worried about them. They're the main competition for us in the TV broadcasting business. It's probably why I was 'randomly' selected in the first place. Good fucking outcome for them either way. Even if I survive, how will we ever compete with the ratings and new subscriptions they've gotten out of this show?

But now, in the middle of their stupid game, I'm not all that concerned. I can win this, and then I can end them. Michaels-Clark Broadcasting might not be as big as Evenstad Media, but we certainly never did anything like this show. We're not murderers. And I'll play the angle. I'll play it as hard as I have to to get them gone.

But I have to win first. Which means I have to start playing the way Evenstad wants me to. I'll feed into their ratings for now. I'll kill. I'll hunt. And I'll live on pure fucking rage until they let me out of this hell. But once I'm out, that rage is all theirs. Hope they're ready for it.

Actually, I don't.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 010

DATE: 5/19/2074

Well, I've done it again. I've played out my best game, and it's going to raise your ratings. If I'm going to keep Blake here with me, I'm going to have to show him the old man. Not just show him. We're going to have to make a trip down there and see him. Face to face. I have to make a pretty damn big move if I'm going to keep his loyalty. Plus it'll give me a good chance to see exactly what kind of old man you decided could actually compete in this ridiculous game of yours.

Sad thing is, I almost wish this whole damn thing wouldn't work. Almost. I mean, if this is enough to convince him that he can totally trust me again, he's got to be a dumb fuck. You know, it really works for me, but it feels a bit like cheating. I found an easy to manipulate boy who knows how to work this stupid game way better than I do. You made it way too easy. So thanks for that, I guess. But next time around, since I might accidentally skim across this show flipping channels, could you really try to make the cute one smarter? I know I asked before, but I'm just giving you a nice little reminder. Cute and smart. You have nearly unlimited resources, right? You can find cute and smart. So do it for me, kay?

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 008

DATE: 5/20/2074

I shouldn't have doubted Rita. She's never led me wrong yet. I feel like I need to make it up for her, giving in to my own fear and paranoia like that. I thought she was up to something, running off by herself and not willing to tell me what's going on. But she was just scoping things out. She was keeping me safe, this time. She said she felt bad, with me basically being her bodyguard, and didn't want me to feel obligated to tag along.

I told her she was being ridiculous about the whole thing. She's kept me sane and kept me going. A little bit of risk on my part is hardly enough to pay her back. She understood once everything was out in the open, of course.

I don't necessarily like the idea of going down there and talking to this guy. She says that we could take him for sure. He's old. Like really old, according to her. But she says that going down there and acting nice and peaceful to him is the best way to get in and really gather information. It makes sense. But I don't have to like it. Old people can be dangerous long enough to kill one or two people. Which is all we've got between us. I'll definitely be on guard. I'd like to see him do a lot once he's taken a shotgun to the chest.

ENTRY END
US TROOPS DEPLOY FOR AID IN EGYPT

5/20/2074 at 8:17 a.m. EST

This morning, the first US troops have landed in Cairo, Egypt. As we have previously reported, the Egyptian government made a request for aid. No more details were given at that time, but more information has been made available since our first report. A terrorist group has overthrown the Egyptian Government and taken control. We here at The Cruise feel it is safe to assume that the troops have been deployed to handle this issue. We will keep you updated as we receive more information.
Obituary of Lars Michael Krane (2016-2074)

Lars Krane (2016-2074) was found dead in his home in Milford, Pennsylvania early this morning. A valued member of the community, and a devoted husband and father, he is succeeded by his daughters, Cynthia Krane and Margaret Blake, and his son, Michael Krane. He was an avid reader and writer, and even contributed to the well-known news and opinion blog, RealTalk. Services will be held at Stroyan Funeral Home on Friday, May 25th, beginning at 10 a.m.
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 014

DATE: 5/22/2074

It took a couple of days, but I found someone. Or at least where someone was and left the lights on. Either way, it's a sign of another person out here. I can't say that I'm getting closer, because that's a ridiculous assumption. But it's heartening. It's a reminder, if nothing else, that I'm not totally alone. I was starting to forget a little bit, wandering around. I even considered the possibility that everyone else was dead. There's still a chance that they are, and I'm just waiting for someone to retrieve me. Or they really don't intend to let me out of here after all. A tomb for the winner so I can't go out and hack their CESUs in the real world, or do anything to ruin their good name.

I'm going to go up to that house. Part of me hopes it's empty. Part of me hopes that I find one final person and I can kill them when their back is turned. Honestly, the only thing I really don't want is to find Manfred in there. God willing, I won't.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 012

DATE: 5/23/2074

Once more, fate plays to my favor. I do not fully understand, still, but I know better than to raise pointless questions of such a nature. Craig has come back. I do not know how he found me. I do not know what happened to him since last I saw him. I have apologized, of course. He deserved a much better goodbye than I was able to offer him. I always knew that, but I stand by my decision. A quick and non-distracting break.

He is welcome to stay, of course, but I can no longer hide my illness. It is simply too much energy to put forth. I haven't vomited lately, but I am not such a fool as to think that I will not throw up again while he is here. I have already found myself fighting back the urge to puke twice since he arrived. It can't have been more than twelve hours.

Craig can tell something is wrong. I know that just from watching and listening to him. He has been so cautious around me since he arrived. He always offers to help me, fetch water and such. He acts like I am so fragile, as though I would break apart at the slightest gust or breeze from his arm passing by too fast. It's sweet, but I hate that I'm doing this to him.

Perhaps I look worse than I feel. I must. There's no other explanation that I can come to. And if that is truly the case, then my chances of seeing my Natalie again are lower, perhaps, than I thought before.

I shall miss her.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 015

DATE: 5/23/2074

Well, I guess that someone here thinks they're something big. Something real big. I found this house with all sorts of different booby traps and shit. Of course, there was no one in there, but whoever put this together had good damn reason to protect it, though. Four medallions, all in the same building. Hell, I almost would have thought those Evenstad jackasses put the whole thing together, if I hadn't found two of the medallions broken apart and wired up to something outside. I didn't touch either of those. I have no proof that they're safe to work with. For all I know, screwing around with them got whoever it was killed and that's why the place is empty. But the other two are totally untouched, as far as I can tell. When I tried them out, they both worked without knocking me dead. Or I'm a fucking ghost, now.

One of the medallions was a laser kind of thing. Really weak, but it could probably slow someone down. I'm not above injuring someone before they die, as long as things get done. But the other one... it's more than a little useful to me, I think. A big destructive ball of light. I don't need to know more than that. I just know that it does some good damage, it's not subtle, and I can't think of a God damn thing that's going to stop it. Except probably the walls around this place. I can't imagine they'd give us something that could help us bust out. It won't stop me from trying, given the chance. But it's not going to get in my way. I'll find whoever's left alive, and I'll fix that little affliction.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 009

DATE: 5/24/2074

Well, we're leaving today. Rita wanted to do one more check over things, and I'm taking the chance to update this. After all, I don't know if I'll get the chance to update again after we go down there to see the old man. Since I could die... I guess I don't need to talk about anything else in here. It's mine, and I already know what's going on. And if anyone does end up reading this, I trust that they're smart enough to figure out what I'm talking about. I just really don't want to write it. It's like that makes it actually be real. I know it's completely ridiculous, but I just don't want to fucking write it down.

Just, you know, to anyone out there who knows me and might care, or even if you don't know me and you're just reading this, goodbye. I'm hoping that it's not really goodbye. I want to have the chance to say it in person. I guess for now, I just have to write it again.

Goodbye.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 013

DATE: 5/24/2074

I never, not even once, thought I would find myself in this situation. The young man and woman who killed David came to my door today. What is perhaps even stranger is that I allowed them in. But what more could I do? I would much rather have them in sight than waiting around for me outside, I suppose. It is the only rationale I can come up with to explain what I have done.

I have not told Craig the history between us, but he is a smart lad. I'm certain that he's at least suspicious of things. As for the two of them, I don't believe they realize who I am. Either that, or they are acting far better than I could ever manage.

I must be brief. They believe I am fetching water, and I can only make that last so long before their suspicions will be a sure thing.

ENTRY END
TO: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtech.com>

FROM: Kathy Horstmann <kathorstmann@mailingslot.com>

SUBJECT: The Park

SENT 5/21/2074 AT 12:15 p.m. EST

I realize that I have no say in anything, but I can't keep my conscience clear and not bring this up again. Things are escalating too far. It was bad enough when you had us build CESUs for your brother's ridiculous game show, but now they're out in the world. It's too much. If you have anything left in you that's moderately human, you'll find a way to put an end to all this.

I know this was all so you could get your war and get your farmland and get your money. I didn't go to Yale on a sports scholarship, after all. I can put these things together, Frederick. You plan to conveniently take over the land, somehow. Don't bother denying any of it, either. You can't convince me I'm wrong. Not this time. But I'm appealing to your better parts. I'm begging you: don't do this. Don't let this war happen. You don't need it, I don't need it, your family doesn't need it, and the world certainly doesn't need it.

—

TO: Kathy Horstmann <kathorstmann@mailingslot.com>

FROM: Frederick Evenstad <fevenstad@evenstadtechnologies.com>

SUBJECT: RE: The Park

SENT 5/21/2074 AT 4:56 p.m. EST

Ms. Horstmann,

I realize that your life underwent something of an upheaval when we had to part ways. Such financial distress can be hard on anyone. I realize that it might be difficult to believe, given my current situation, but I am not a stranger to monetary troubles. In my younger days, I went through quite a number of jobs, myself.

Unfortunately, I must inform you that this is a private email address. I will forgive it this time, but do not contact me here in the future. Otherwise, I will be forced to inform the legal department of this, and they will likely spin it as a case of harassment. I believe both of us would like to avoid such a mess.

However, if it would be helpful to you, I will of course be happy to write a letter of recommendation to any employer. Merely contact Veronica, my secretary. I trust that you also kept her email address. If not, it is available on the Contact page of our website.

I wish you the best of luck, as I do all of our current and former employees. I look forward to seeing you back on your feet.

Frederick Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Technologies
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 011

DATE: 5/24/2074

Evenstad, I want you to know something. Pay really, really close attention to this, all right? Good.

I hate you, you slimy asshole. I've never hated anything, I can tell you that much, but I damn well hate you. If there's a Hell, I hope you don't go there. You don't deserve the fucking luxury of it.

This Manfred, I just don't know how the hell you could drag him into this. He's obviously too old, and he's obviously sick. He's trying to hide it, too, but it's just so damned obvious to anyone with eyes. And you bastards have eyes everywhere in this place. I don't know if he was healthy when you fucking kidnapped him and dropped him here, but he's obviously not well now, and I bet he hasn't been well for a long time, to look at him. But you had to play out your psychotic little game, didn't you? So you'll just leave him here to wither while the world watches.

How's that going to look to the viewers, if they watch him die off, day after day? Don't you assholes have a drug company or a medical company under your control? Yeah, I'm pretty sure you do, somewhere in your damn collection of companies. But that's okay. You just worry about your rules and your games and your fucking bullshit TV show. We're just lowly humans, anyway. Not even your damned employees. We all may as well be scum, those of us who are left.

I want you sons of bitches to know one more thing, though: I'm going to live. I'll live through your torture even if it's only to spite you. Fucking count on it.

ENTRY END
BREAKING NEWS: EGYPTIAN INSURGENCY ENDED

5/27/2074 at 3:14 p.m. EST

This afternoon, US, Russian, and Indian forces removed a group of terrorists from power in Egypt. The group, calling themselves the Egyptian Restoration Movement, had taken control of the main government offices in Cairo some weeks ago. The ERM's goal, according to their mission statement, is to 'bring Egypt back to glory' by restoring economic health and general prosperity. While troops from several countries were deployed, they did not arrive in time to save Egyptian President Chatuluka bin Awad al Misri, who was murdered not long after the Egyptian Restoration Movement took power. More troops will be arriving in the following weeks to aid in the stabilization of the Egyptian government.

Specialists from Evenstad Farms will also be arriving shortly to provide humanitarian aid. They intend to help revitalize the economy so as to avoid a group like the ERM from rising again. A temporary president is to be elected later this week by the remaining members of the now restored Egyptian government.

We will keep you updated as more information is made available to us here at The Cruise.

UPDATE: 5/27/2074 at 6:08 p.m. EST: After deliberation, the Egyptian government has agreed to allow US troops to stay in Egypt as protection until they can be certain that the threat has fully passed. In order to minimize the risk as much as possible, Evenstad Farms has agreed to buy out the farmers they initially came to aid. Marta Evenstad, COO of Evenstad Farms, says that it is a temporary measure, implemented 'to keep the farmers safe while still providing them with financial stability.' The specialists will work the land in their place so that 'fertile croplands aren't left to die and become useless.' This measure will protect the farmers' current and future interests, and the land will be returned to them 'when the Egyptian government deems the country safe from terrorist activities.'
TO: Evenstad Media <info@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Natalie Klein <ramblinnati16@mymailer.co.uk>

SUBJECT: Manfred

SENT 5/27/2074 AT 4:47 p.m. EST

I have seen the latest episode of your program, only to watch my husband, not to support you. And yes, I have written to beg you. My Manfred is unwell. More unwell than I've ever seen him. So unwell that I am unsure that he could pull back out of it, even with the finest medical care. But he deserves a chance, and you will give it to him. You have to. Have him forfeit. Have him buy out his contract somehow. We will find the money we need for it. But please, let him come home, while there's still something of him left to send home.

Natalie Klein

—

TO: Natalie Klein <ramblinnati16@mymailer.co.uk>

FROM: Evenstad Media <info@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Manfred

SENT 5/27/2074 AT 4:52 p.m. EST

Mrs. Klein,

As we have told you before, your husband has signed a contract, and he knew full well the possible risks when he did so. We apologize for your hardship, but the contract is legally binding.

Regards,

Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 010

DATE: 5/27/2074

Well, we're staying here with the old man. I'm kind of okay with it. I mean, I never thought I'd be okay, putting myself into potential danger like this, but I am. Yeah, Manfred's pretty harmless. And he looks like hell. But that Craig guy just isn't sitting right with me for whatever reason. He makes Manfred happy, though, and keeps the old guy comfortable. Which is okay. You shouldn't die alone. Grandpa told me that before he passed. It was hard for him. He didn't have people the whole time, for days. That's when I started sticking around there, once I found out. It just wasn't right in my heart. It sounds so mushy. I've never admitted that to anyone. Well, anyone but Grandpa. The day before he went, he told me that, in the end, all that's important in life is having people around you that don't want anything. No money, nothing in the will, no life secrets from an old man or anything like that. Just someone who wants to be with you because they know that this is going to be the last time they might see you.

So yeah. I'm okay sticking around. If Rita changes her mind and decides we need to leave, I'll go. I may not be happy, but I'll go. I just hope that doesn't happen. Not if he's dying.

Dying. I think he really is dying, though. Not fake. Really, really dying. And Evenstad is just letting it happen. I really don't want to think this is real, that I actually... and I don't want to think that Rita lied to me. But this Manfred guy? He's like... I don't really know what to think anymore.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 016

DATE: 5/28/2074

I found lights on in a house. It's the first time I've seen that so far, so I can only assume there's actually some people. I could be wrong, but what the hell? Even if I am, it doesn't put me in any worse of a situation than I'm in at this exact second.

I'm not going to head over there yet, though. Yeah, I can pretty much handle anyone in there with that golden light thing I found in the house, but I'd still rather try to get a count, if I can. It doesn't really matter how long it takes to ferret out the information I need. What do I have to live for, other than seeing Evenstad burn?

ENTRY END
Obituary of Kathleen Marie Horstmann (2034-2074)

Kathy Horstmann (2034-2074) was found dead in her home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania late last night. She is survived by her son, Damian Horstmann. Funeral services at Terry Funeral Home on Wednesday, May 30th starting at 9 a.m.
JOURNAL 10MANFRED

ENTRY 014

DATE: 5/28/2074

This will not last long. I am weak. I can barely type, and I do not even bother pretending to eat. I cannot hide this any longer, not even from David's murderers. At least Craig does not leave my side. None of them do, actually. It is particularly odd, but I welcome the company. It is not my Natalie, and it is not my children, but it is some comfort, at least.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 015

DATE: 5/29/2074

Rita's brought something up to me, and I really have to agree with her. I'm damn sure not happy about it, but it's the right thing to do. Manfred is miserable and I just can't watch it any longer. It's time to fulfill my promise. I'm going to help Manfred the best way I know how to. I have to end his suffering. Well, we do.

In the end, it's going to be Rita. We've worked it all out. I know I can't pull the trigger. It sickens me, but I know it wouldn't happen, and Manfred deserves to be out of pain. So I'm giving her Susan's old medallion to do it. It's the only one in the house that can afford him any level of dignity. It should be painless. Just a simple shot through the head. That's painless, isn't it? He deserves painless. I just hope my part is enough in this. I promised I'd help.

ENTRY END
Obituary of Natalie Lorraine Klein (nee Harrison) (1990-2074)

Natalie Klein (1990-2074) was found dead in her home in London, England late last night. The autopsy has revealed a drug overdose as the cause of death. She is survived by Damon Klein and Katherine Thomson. The wake will be held at her home Saturday, June 2nd, at 1 p.m.
Valued Evenstad Enterprises contributor,

You may have heard of Evenstad's newest project, Evenstad Farms. Our work in Egypt is off to a wonderful start, and we have high hopes for the end results, both for the world food crisis as well as the farmers in Egypt.

Now is your chance to get in on this. You have, in the past, been very generous in support of our projects. We want to extend the chance to you again. For a small injection of funds, you can be a part of this exciting new initiative. If you are interested, please call our toll free number 1-888-003-8000 A representative will be happy to help you and provide any information you may need.

We look forward to working with you on this and future projects,

Evenstad Enterprises
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 016

DATE: 5/29/2074

We buried Manfred today. Rita and Blake offered to help me, and I was okay with that. I wish we could have done more for him. He deserved more than that. So much more than that. He was a much better man than I ever would have guessed I could meet in a place like this. He never once wanted to hurt anyone. Not that I could tell, anyway. He was so sweet, and he didn't let this evil damn competition get to him. He stayed pure as ever, and I admire that. I couldn't do it. I killed Susan. Even if it was in self-defense, I ended her life. She might have been innocent before all of this. It could have just been this that made her break like that. I don't know anything about her other than what I saw in here.

But this isn't about me. I'm too self-centered anyway. This is about Manfred. He's dead. To his family, even though you'll never know, I'm sorry. I had a hand in killing him. Even though it was to put him out of this misery Evenstad tossed him into, I'm so unbelievably sorry for your loss. For the world's loss. You've got to believe me.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 017

DATE: 5/29/2074

Those idiots over at the house with the lights must want to die. They all came out. Three of them, carrying a body. I watched the whole thing. They dug the grave, buried it, and then hung around outside, waiting for me to just come along and take them all out of the picture. Dumbasses. They might think that everything's okay. We're still playing, and we're still in god damn danger. Even me. I know that. If I go over there and things don't go right, I'm done. Dead. But I've always taken risks, and they've gotten me this far. Before all this stupid Evenstad bullshit went down, I had a pretty damn good life. Even if I couldn't cook.

And I didn't make it happen by waiting around. I made it happen with action. So that's exactly what I'm doing next. I'm taking action.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 012

DATE: 5/31/2074

Well, Evenstad, we got out alive. I'm not totally unscathed, but I'm breathing. You can't get rid of us quite so easily. But kudos to that psycho business suit bitch. Someone else is finally concerned enough with your ratings to give a damn. She's sure as hell good at it, too. So nice choice on her.

Craig let us all come back here. I don't know where you found him, but this house is pretty well-protected. He even managed to take apart your medallions and wire them up to make booby traps. I mean, that's pretty fucking cool. Even you have to admit that. Maybe you can keep him alive somehow. At least long enough to pick his brain and figure out what the flaws are with your design. It would sure as hell make my job here a lot easier if I didn't have to kill him. It's not something I'm looking forward to. Not that I can't make it happen, but I really don't want to, if it's at all avoidable. He's another good guy and he definitely doesn't deserve this. Not that anyone does, really.

Blake's been nursing my injury. He's a sweet kid. I... damn, Evenstad, you're getting some juicy shit on me here, aren't you? Yeah, well fuck it. I can make this confession. I might be seeing Blake as more than just a pawn lately. Maybe. I don't know for sure. Which sucks, and I'm sure whatever psychiatrists and psychologists and other eggheads you hired knew it would suck. Two people thrown together like this for long enough have to form some kind of bond. It seems pretty fucking inevitable to me.

I still have to kill him. I know that. You know that. When it comes time, I bet the viewers will know that, too. I'm just hoping I can. I mean it. You might have actually beaten me at this by bringing Blake in. As much as I've complained about him to you, maybe you did know better, you slimy little assholes.

Ciao.

ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Marta Evenstad <mevenstad@evenstadfarms.com>

SUBJECT: Profits

SENT 6/1/2074 AT 12:18 p.m. EST

Brother,

Accounting has given me the projected profits, based upon our current work and our initial investments. I've had them send a copy to your financial department, as well as to your secretary, but I could hardly contain my excitement when I saw the numbers. Assuming that everything goes as planned, we will be clearing 15 million dollars profit within the first three months of this. And that's based only on the farms we've set up in Egypt.

This is wonderful, Brother. I think this might even be better than you'd intended when you first presented the plan. I will, of course, continue to work. I only wish to make you and the family happy.

Marta Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Farms

—

TO: Marta Evenstad <mevenstad@evenstadfarms.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Profits

SENT 6/1/2074 AT 1:46 p.m. EST

Marta, this is fabulous news. You are doing so much for the family, so much that neither you nor I can truly see the end of the ripples this will cause. All good things, of course. And yes, it is far better than I ever imagined. Carry on with things as you are. I have complete faith in you, and I'm proud to call you my sister. I knew I made the right choice when I suggested you to run this business.

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 017

DATE: 6/1/2074

It's all gone. Every last one of the CESUs is gone. Which means that somebody got in here and took them. They left the ones I had hooked up, thank God, but that means somebody has the laser I use to work on them. Even worse, they have that golden light one. I'm pretty sure that's what burned down the other trailer. Just thinking about that is what's keeping me from falling asleep now. I don't want to be around if someone else has that damn thing.

I haven't mentioned anything to the others. As far as they know, I only have what I had on me, and the two I wired up for defense. I want to keep it that way, too. If they found out I lost two CESUs, especially the one that took us down, that could put me in danger. I mean, the only reason Susan kept me around as long as she did was my brain. If I was stupid enough to lose them... well, it might not be good for my continued health and well-being.

I just can't believe someone got through here like that. I thought I was well-protected. I thought I fixed it up well enough after Susan got through. Apparently I was wrong. Go figure. One more thing I can't do in this stupid-ass game.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 011

DATE: 6/5/2074

Rita's better, finally. Her injury wasn't as bad as I thought. I figure that burn on her leg did some serious work on her, but it must have just been at the surface. I hope the stuff I did was helping and not just getting in the way. I mean, I'm not a doctor or anything. I just tried to make her comfortable. I guess it's not that important. She's good to go now.

When I think about it, I still can't believe I doubted her. She was the one who told us about the fire so we could get out in time. Sure, I'm not thrilled we still have Craig here with us, but I'll take it over dead any day.

Rita's still being awesome. Even more awesome than usual. And she's getting kind of... handsy? I guess there's no other way to put it. I mean, we always sleep next to each other, for safety if nothing else, I suppose. But she's been touching and grabbing and... yeah. I don't know what it means, exactly, but I'm okay with it. Like really, really okay with it. Sticky sheets kind of okay with it. And she always makes me breakfast. Not Craig, just me.

When it comes around to time, I'll get Craig out of the way. I hope I don't have to, but it's all got to be fake, right? No matter what happened with Manfred. He was old. A fluke, that's all. God, I'm rambling. And I'm trying to talk myself out of this.

But once Craig is out of the picture, we can finally have some real alone time. No worries. Just the two of us.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 018

DATE: 6/6/2074

I tracked them down, again. It wasn't that hard. I went to the other house with lights. And it was the same one that I got the medallions from before. Same traps and all that, but now there's light and noise and shadows moving around inside. And I can smell the food. It's not as good as Julia's. None of it is, and none of it probably ever will be.

I shouldn't focus on that part of this whole thing. I've got them in a trap, and they probably don't think I can get to them. But I did it once and came out in one piece. Chances are high I can do it again. And then they'll burn. But I want to catch a little sleep, first. Just enough that I'm together so I can pick off any stragglers who might survive. I can wait another hour or two.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 013

DATE: 6/6/2074

Evenstad, let me ask you something. Among all your mighty, dominating corporations, do you have a dating service or a matchmaker or a hookup site or something? If not, you might want to consider it. It's a million dollar idea, and you don't have to ruin anyone's lives to pull it off. Maybe if you're extra super nice to me, I'll give you a good testimonial. 'It's been six months since I got the shit fucked out of me. But then, when Evenstad tossed me into an arena and made me fight to the death, I finally found the satisfaction I'd been missing in my womanhood. Thanks, Evenstad.'

Right. Like I'd ever give you a review that glowing. But I guess some small thanks are in order. Blake was good. Really good. G spot good. Multiple orgasms good. Which also makes me hate you just a little bit more, too. How am I supposed to kill him now? I kept putting off sex with the kid because I knew it would change things. But he was so sweet, and I was just so horny, I couldn't. See, I can give head and handjobs and that good happy shit without any attachment. But not sex. Now, I don't know how to get this done.

Can you believe it, Evenstad? After all this, you may have actually beaten me. I guess we'll see when everything's laid out in the end.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA

ENTRY 019

DATE: 6/6/2074

I've been watching since I woke up. I don't think I was out very long. It's the same date at the top of the journal, anyway. They all finally stopped moving over at the house. See, last time they were awake, so they could run. I don't want to make that mistake again. No fire, either. I'll just get in and get personal with them. Nice and quiet. Julia's will work. It's nice and simple. Quiet.

ENTRY END
POLL: THE FINAL FOUR

1: Christina (36%)

2: Rita (24%)

3: Blake (22%)

4: Craig (18%)

(Information Collected by The Cruise)
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 012

DATE: 6/6/2074

Oh my God! I can't believe Rita could do something like that. It's just not like her. Or I guess it is. It's not like how I thought she was this whole damn time. Someone came in when we were asleep and tripped over something. Thank God she did, too. Otherwise, it would have been game over. But she tripped and everyone woke up. Rita just hauled off and used that weird invisible fist medallion thing I gave her and crushed the lady's head. I... I don't even want to remember it, and I sure as hell ain't recording it here. It was just so much blood and so much everything and her face was just... I'm describing it.

I just ran the fuck away. I can't stay with someone like that. How the hell am I supposed to think that she won't haul off and do the exact same thing to me? That lady was a stranger. I'm sure I've annoyed her more than enough times already. I mean, I could probably kill her if she tried to turn on me, but I also couldn't. I can't hurt her. I know that already. I wouldn't be able to bring myself to do it. Not after everything she's done for me. So I just ran. I don't think I can hide from her forever, and maybe by the time I have to see her again, I won't be so attached. I've got to try, because I know she won't have any troubles killing me, now.

I just want to go home. More than ever, that's what I want. I want to be out of this stupid game and back with Mom and Dad and everyone else back home. I just want to wake up and find out that this never happened and then go get a shrink, because I know this shit ain't your average nightmare. Which is pretty much how I know it's not a nightmare at all.

And I know for sure that she lied to me, now. I've decided. This death? It's all fucking real.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 014

DATE: 6/6/2074

The little peckerhead up and ran off on me. Did you know he'd be so fucking flighty, Evenstad? Did you? I bet you did, you bastards. Probably had a good laugh at my expense, too. After everything, and after I've been such a snarky little cuntbag to you, I get what I deserve.

Guess what? That just makes it all so much easier. I don't need him, I don't want him. And you know I'm just spouting meaningless shit right now. If not, you know now. It fucking hurt, let me tell you. But I'm working on that anger. That anger's going to fuck you up when it comes time. All I have to do is get pissed enough at him. Just pissed enough to make it easier.

I saved his ass, and how does he repay me? Abandonment. Fucking pussy.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 018

DATE: 6/7/2074

I'm stuck here with Rita. She said if I run, she'll kill me. Which isn't much better than the alternative, really. I don't run and she still kills me. Just a little bit later. Either way, I'm dead. But if I can stay, maybe I can have that much more of a chance to figure something out. Anything. If there is anything to figure out. I don't even know at this point. I just know that running is 100% death. Maybe staying is only 98.5.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 015

DATE: 6/10/2074

Evenstad, tell me something, because I've got a theory. How close are we to the end of this whole thing? It's been almost half a year, now. I just don't think we can be that far from finishing at this point. And I think that means I have to do something I don't want to do.

Craig's a nice enough guy. But, for the most part, you seem to pick nice enough guys. The only one who ever really did anything dickish was Blake. Yeah, I'm still working on hating him. But don't give up on me yet. I'll get there.

I don't want Craig to pay for things he didn't do. Not any more than he probably already has. But if I kill him, I'm one step closer to getting out of your sick little trap, and back to a normal life.

I know you won't tell the audience, but I'll still put it, just in case I'm wrong: I don't want to kill him. You assholes are making me.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG

ENTRY 019

DATE: 6/10/2074

This is it. I won't leave. I won't help Manfred's family or start a business or any of that. Rita's going to kill me. She told me as much, and this is my chance to say goodbye. She was crying, which I guess is some consolation. Not much, though. Even if she feels remorse, I don't have any reason to believe that it's going to stop her. But she's giving me the chance to say goodbye. I don't want to waste a lot of time, especially since it's likely that no one will ever see this.

I'll miss everyone. Grandma, I'm sorry about the vase. Jimmy, I'm sorry I blamed you for the vase. Mom, I love you. You too, Dad, even though we had our falling out. And to whoever might have ended up loving me and living with me and growing old with me: I never met you, but I'm sorry that the chance was robbed from you.

G2G. The last time I'll ever get to type that.

ENTRY END
TUNE INTO THE PARK

We only have two competitors left.

Rita Needles, age 27, a bartender from Portland, OR, and Blake Ross, the 19 year old gamer from Broadview Heights, OH. We're sure that you, just like millions of others, have been watching these two young lovers' relationship unfold across the playfield of The Park. Now, with Craig's death, only the two of them remain. Like Romeo and Juliet, these two youths are destined for tragedy. But how will it end, and who will end it?

The only way to find out is to watch The Park, every Monday at 9 p.m. EST. Only on Evenstad TV, Channel 696.
JOURNAL 03BLAKE

ENTRY 013

DATE: 6/12/2074

It's official. I'm a dumbfuck. Here I have this whole trailer park. It's probably, what, a square mile or more? I don't know, just guessing And it's not often you find that much room to screw around in, anymore. But I've got a square mile, and here I am, sticking close enough that I can see Rita's house. Craig's house. The house. Rita. Whatever it is, I'm here, just a couple trailers down. I'm keeping her in sight, right? Right. Totally. If I don't know where she is, then she could be anywhere. And that doesn't work for me. Not now. Not now that I know she's actually capable of killing.

I really don't know how this is going to work. Somehow, I never thought out to the end of all this. I mostly avoided thinking about it, either Rita or I dying. Or both of us, even.

I don't have a damn clue how many people are left. But I can't really worry about all that. I know Rita's here. I know she's two houses down and across the path, surrounded by booby traps. I don't have high hopes for Craig, not stuck with Rita in there. If he's not dead already, he will be soon. She won't let him get in her way, that's for damn sure. And I'll be the next one in her path.

ENTRY END
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 016

DATE: 6/12/2074

I'm an idiot, Evenstad, and this time I can't even blame you. I know, it's probably pretty hard for you to believe that you didn't have a hand in this latest tragedy in my life, but it's true. And I'm working on it, which I bet is really going to help you here. And if I'm right, this has to be pretty close to the final stretch of this damn show. An increase in ratings can't hurt, can it? Maybe not the best time to increase viewership, but I doubt you'll complain. A finale's almost as good as a premiere, right?

And I also want to thank you. You know, I think every single woman out there's wanted to kill her boyfriend or her fuckbuddy or whatever she has going on for her. At least once, anyway. But here, you do me a wonderful service. Not only did you give me the opportunity to finally get my chance at my man, but you're actually encouraging me to do it. So thanks for that, I guess. Kisses.

Still working on that whole rage thing.

ENTRY END
BREAKING NEWS: Egyptian Terrorist Group has International Ties

Posted 6/13/2074 at 9:27 a.m. EST

Today, US Secretary of Defense Lena Browne announced that the insurgent group, the Egyptian Restoration Movement, has links to other powerful terrorist groups across the world. The United States and allies are currently arranging for troops to be deployed to India, China, Iraq, and other as yet undisclosed countries. This article will be updated as more information is made available to us here at The Cruise.
JOURNAL 06RITA

ENTRY 017

DATE: 6/13/2074

I think it's about time for all this silliness to be done. Don't you agree? I'm done being here. I'm done waiting around. I'm done keeping death as company. I never did manage to get all of Craig's blood off the walls here. That'll be a job for your cleanup crew, right? Can't resell anything with human blood splattered around, can you?

But you know what I'm the most tired of? Absolutely, completely done with? I'm done talking to you assholes. And after I take care of Blake, god willing, I don't have to waste another single second I don't want to on you. I think that's the only thing that's going to make killing him doable. That and just not looking.

Ciao. Bastard.

ENTRY END
'THE PARK' VICTOR RITA NEEDLES' SIZABLE DONATION

7/19/2074 at 4:15 p.m. EST

While the twenty million dollar grand prize Rita Needles received for her victory in 'The Park' would be life-changing money to just about anyone, the 27 year old bartender felt that someone else could benefit better from her windfall. She donated every dollar of her winnings to Bead for Life, a charity that helps improve the quality of life for women in Uganda. Ms. Needles plans to make a trip to Uganda, when funds allow. For the time being, she has returned to work at Exodus in her home town of Portland, Oregon. She has declined any other comment.
TO: Rita Needles <needleneedle46@themailerspot.com>

FROM: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

SUBJECT: Job Offer

SENT 7/24/2074 AT 10:36 a.m. EST

Ms. Needles.

I realize that we have not spoken in some months. First of all, I would like to offer my sincerest congratulations to you once more. Myself and everyone else here at Evenstad Media are absolutely thrilled. We couldn't be happier about the way things turned out. And, on top of everything else, we have a very exciting offer for you. We hope you will, at the very least, consider it.

We can discuss this all in greater detail in person, of course, but in general, we hope that you will aid us in spreading the good word about Evenstad and our current and future projects. We feel that you would be uniquely trusted, given your situation.

If you are interested, please reply at your soonest convenience. I hope that this will be a fruitful partnership between us.

Regards,

Niels Evenstad

Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media

—

TO: Niels Evenstad <nevenstad@evenstadmedia.com>

FROM: Rita Needles <needleneedle46@themailerspot.com>

SUBJECT: RE: Job Offer

SENT 7/25/2074 AT 2:28 a.m. EST

I thought I told you I was done talking to you. Doesn't that fucking preclude then working with you assholes? I'm pretty sure it does. But, if I didn't make this all clear enough or, if for whatever reason, you weren't reading my journals like I thought you were the whole time, let me fucking clarify.

No.

Fuck off.

Suck a dick.

Lick my god damn cunt and die.

Like I'd let you eat me out. You should be so fucking lucky.

You already stole six God damn months of my life, then two more where I had to play the pretty, preening little winner for your cameras. And I did it. I don't know if you drugged me or forged my signature or what happened, but as far as the legal side is concerned, you got me. But I did my time, and I don't plan to give you another fucking second.

Ciao.
Valued Evenstad Media Customer.

Since you showed such interest in The Park during its first run, we are so excited to share this news with you first.

The Park is being brought back for a second season. For your wonderful support of this project, we will keep you informed of the premiere date and any other pertinent information.

Thank you for your devotion to Evenstad Media. We hope that you will remain among our valued customers.

Evenstad Media

# Enjoyed The Park?

# Check out Evenstad Media Presents: The Mall

Last year, Evenstad Media's hit reality show, The Park, rocked the world. Death, subterfuge, sex: it had it all, and the public begged for more. Evenstad came back with a second season: The Mall. Twelve more strangers, eleven more murders, and one more opportunity to rake in money.

But as the show airs, there's something more going on. Evenstad Media's Chief Operating Officer is getting harder and harder to reach, and nobody knows why. The company's computer systems are being hacked, and nobody knows how. There's an uprising against the violence Evenstad is putting into the world, but nobody knows who.

What will happen to The Mall, and to Evenstad Media? Who will make it out alive? And what happens when the destruction falls on both sides of the arena walls?

 Buy Now!

# AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thank you for reading The Park. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review, so others can find and enjoy it as well.

If you'd like to stay abreast of the latest news from Voss Foster, including cover reveals, new releases, and appearances, consider joining his Mailing List or following his Blog.

# ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Voss Foster lives in the middle of the Eastern Washington desert, where he writes science fiction and fantasy from inside a single-wide trailer. He is the author of Tartaros, Zirkua Fantastic, The Jester Prince, and Mythica. His short fiction has been published in several magazines and anthologies, including Apocrypha & Abstraction and Andromeda Spaceways In-Flight Magazine. When he can be pried away from his keyboard, he can be found cooking, singing, belly dancing, and playing trombone, though rarely all at the same time.
