Realm Wraith (2 page)

The rest of the world simply fell away. All that mattered was work. Not family, not friends, certainly not relaxing and taking it easy. He had a job to do, and he considered it the fruit of his labor to be where he was right now. Even if all the paperwork was a mind-numbing slog, he would read through all the legal gibberish, picking apart the clauses cleverly hidden in contracts, and even crafting his own. He was good at what he did; everybody seemed to think so. That was why he took it upon himself to make sure everything was perfect. Even if he had to shoulder a little more work sometimes.

He grabbed a stack of papers from his in-box and looked over the top one, swearing under his breath as he read it. They’d only sent him the memo this morning? Of all the lax, idiotic— Rayne grabbed his briefcase and barreled out the door. There, he paused, straightened his hair and suit, and hustled across the hallway, sticking his head through the door there.

“Hawkins, there’s a meeting in five minutes; where’s the itinerary for the conference in London?”

“I haven’t got it.” Hawkins sipped his coffee. “Did you check with Jenkins?”

“You were supposed to have copies ready. Get moving.”

“But I haven’t finished my coffee—”

Rayne had already left before he could finish, already frazzled. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Rayne turned out to be the first one at the meeting, and had to wait ten minutes before anybody else showed up. He observed as they all discussed a conference their firm was holding at the end of the month, one he wasn’t actually attending, but still had to file forms for all the same. Nobody looked pleased to be there, but it was a necessity. Once the meeting let out, Rayne returned to work, isolating himself in his office.

Most of Rayne’s work dealt with legal representation for business interests. It involved an immense amount of research, drafting, and scrutiny. Right now his most pressing concern was a legal snafu between two companies each trying to acquire a chemical processing company as a subsidiary. He had a very important meeting on Thursday between his client and the opposing counsel, and if things did not go smoothly, the matter could be taken to court, as the opposition felt that prior contracts already gave them ownership rights. Rayne had already arranged for court representation, but he knew it would never come to that. The opposition’s claim was flimsy at best, and Rayne would be quick to undermine their confidence. And his bosses would respect him all the more. The possibilities were limitless; increased salary, promotion, perhaps even partnership. Life was looking good. Just a few more sleepless nights, that’s all.

“Jenkins, I need those court records from last year,” he said, walking into his coworker’s cubicle.

Jenkins sighed and dug a folder out of a cabinet. His workspace was a pigsty, files everywhere, discarded coffee cups and Styrofoam boxes leaking stains over his papers. Rayne gave him a dirty look for such unprofessional trappings, but said nothing, and took the papers back to his office. These people were supposed to be his team for this case, but he was shouldering most of the burden.

Lunchtime came, and he gnawed on an energy bar rather than taking the time to eat. He needed all the free time he could to work, excepting a five minute hiatus to head down to the break room to grab a coffee. There were a few other people sitting at tables, eating food from home, laughing and chatting. Rayne nodded hello to them while he heated up the coffee machine. They ignored him.

“Oh, I thought the match with Manchester last night was brilliant,” another coworker said, gathered with others outside in the hall, frittering time away beside the water cooler. Rayne saw Hawkins with them, not getting his work done.

He tapped his subordinate on the shoulder. “Hawkins, did you—”

“I know, the finances. I’ll have them at the end of the day, no worries.”

“Right.” Rayne glanced over at Hawkins’s companions, who didn’t look pleased with him for interrupting their fun. “See that you do.”

He heard their laughter rise again the moment he turned his back and walked away. He didn’t even remember their names.

By four, Rayne’s head drooped, and his body slumped over the desk as his energy waned. He stared at his computer as white light and black words stared back at him from the documents meant to build his case, his eyes scanning them for anything useful.

“Looks like our opposition’s been liquidating quite a few assets,” he murmured. “There’s blood in the water.”

Hawkins barged into his office with a stack of papers at a quarter to five, which he dumped on Rayne’s desk.

“Is that all of it?” Rayne asked.

“Yeah, I think so. Everything about those other blokes: stock shares, profits for the last eight fiscal years, sale of assets. And I sent copies of these contracts to our client’s office. Oh yeah, Mr. Bastley wants you in his office. He wants you to update him on the meeting tomorrow.”

Rayne jerked his head up. “Meeting? What meeting?”

“You know, the meeting. The case we’re working on?”

“That wasn’t supposed to be until Thursday!”

“Maybe they moved it up?”

Teeth clenched, Rayne brushed past Hawkins, trying to hold his composure. They moved up the meeting? Why hadn’t anybody told him?!
Another late night, just what he needed. Having to present on Thursday was flustering enough, and now they’d moved it up two days.

Rayne stumbled into the office of one of his firm’s senior partners, a grey haired man with a distinguished demeanor and an office to match.

“Ah, Mercer, I was starting to wonder,” Mr. Bastley said. “I need to be certain you have everything ready.”

“Y-yes, sir. I’ve got all records of acquisition, and I think I’ll be able to negotiate this. I don’t think we’ll have to take the matter to court.”

Rayne laid out his strategy to his superior, who seemed to approve of his methods as well as his calm professionalism. Yet despite his placid appearance, Rayne’s insides churned with questions, stressed to breaking point from uncertainty and far too many late nights.

“Good, everything appears to be in order,” Mr. Bastley said.

“But why wasn’t I told the meeting was moved up to tomorrow?”

“Yes, about that. I moved the meeting up because I need you to meet with a representative of the Marotech corporation on Thursday.”

“Marotech? They’re one of our biggest clients.”

“Yes, and they’re undergoing a vast international expansion. We need everybody on this.”

“But what about—my meeting is—?”

“Yes, you’ll still be handling your previous accounts. But, they will come second to this. I’ll have my secretary send you the paperwork; I’m certain you can handle it.”

This was too much for Rayne. His head reeled, filled with a haze that clouded his reason. He slumped over as he struggled to focus. Wasn’t there something more important? Was he forgetting something?

“But I’m already stretched so thin handling that account,” he argued. “I barely see my son enough as it is, and I—”

“Rayne, this is a very important client. If you don’t think you can handle what is asked of you, than perhaps you should reevaluate if you really want to pursue a career in law. It’s not about what’s best for you or your family. It’s what’s best for all of us. Swim along, or drown in the current.”

Those words, coming from his superior, snapped Rayne back to reality when he remembered his place here. The strange, foggy feeling crept through his mind again, despite his efforts to drive it back. He straightened himself up.

“Yes, yes, sorry. No worries, Mr. Bastley, I’ll have everything ready by tomorrow.”

“See that you do. I expect great things from you, Mr. Mercer. Ever since you first came to this firm, fresh out of university, I’ve always thought ‘there’s a man with a keen mind. There’s a sharp observer who can talk his way out of anything.’ I know one day you’ll make something great of yourself. Keep moving forward, as they say, and you’ll get there someday.”

Those were words he needed to hear, reassurance that sacrifice would pay off in the end, regardless of how vague. Rayne’s eyes met his superior’s while he nodded and reached out to shake his hand.

“I won’t let you down, sir, I promise.”

“Very well, then. Have a safe trip home.”

* * *

Rayne could not get out of the office fast enough, still in a slight daze over what had just happened. Perhaps he was too tired from all the stress. He straightened himself out and checked his watch. To his shock, it now read a quarter to six. A thunderbolt struck as he realized he was late. Trying to maintain his poise he raced to his office and stuffed the remainder of his paperwork into his briefcase. Then he looked over the files Hawkins had brought in. One file didn’t have the right name at the top; it wasn’t even from his case. His heart skipped a beat. Hawkins must have screwed up.

“Dammit!”

He rushed to Hawkins’s office, but he wasn’t in there. No sign of him in the hallway either.

“God, I can’t wait to hit the pubs,” Rayne heard Hawkins say as he neared the break room. “Is it too much to ask to have one day where Mercer isn’t breathing down my neck?”

Rayne froze. They were talking about him?

“Watch it now, he’ll write you up.” This time it was Jenkins’ voice.

“I know, I know. I hate being on a team with him. I mean it’s great he does all the work, but you can’t talk to the man at all. Such a bloody bore. All he cares about is work, and sucking up to Mr. Bastley. Like he’s his pet, you know?”

They all started laughing. Rayne stood there, stunned, waiting for the laughter to cease. A minute later, a few other lawyers walked out of the room, glancing behind them. They didn’t even notice Rayne as they all returned to their offices. Hawkins came out a moment later, and nearly crashed right into him. He glanced at Rayne with a rattled look on his spectacled face, like a child who’d been caught stealing from his mother’s purse.

“Oh, hey Mercer, I was just on my way out—”

“It’ll have to wait. You gave me the wrong duplicates; please tell me you didn’t send this file to our client.”

“Yeah, I sent it out when you told me to. I’m certain that’s the right paper. I had a sticky note and everything.”

“It is not the right file, these are records for a banking company our firm is handling.”

Hawkins looked at the folder. “Oh. Well I guess I mixed them up.”

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

“It’s fine, I can just get the proper ones later; they’ll have them by tomorrow.”

“It is not fine! They need time to review the briefs before the meeting! I’m already late for something very important! Now I’ll have to call them and apologize, and make certain you didn’t just fax them confidential information from a completely different company, and—”

“Hey, hey, calm down. So it’s just another late night, that’s routine for you.”

“
Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!
” Rayne’s voice thundered, his eyes maddened, nostrils flaring as he lost control of his temper. It only lasted mere seconds, but once he realized he was screaming, a deep horror chilled his spine. He took a step back, aghast. He never raised his voice. He never got angry like that at all.

In his deeply embroiled emotion, his gaze met with Hawkins’s round face, hidden behind his spectacles. Dead silence followed, and the short man’s face went pale as he looked into Rayne’s eyes, his own opening from narrow to nearly circular.

“Well, sorry to have—all right, I’ll have that file—I’ll e-mail you the document,” Hawkins stammered, “And I’ll call the client right away. T-terribly sorry.”

He rushed down the hall, as if he couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Rayne just stood there frozen, horrified that he’d lost his temper. Closing his eyes, he pushed those emotions deep inside him. He didn’t have time to be upset. There were more important things to deal with right now.

Trying to keep his hand steady, he returned to his office for his briefcase and staggered into an empty hallway. Not a single soul passed him on his way to the elevator. Even the lobby was devoid of people, save for the receptionist, but her nose was in a magazine, and she didn’t even notice him walking by.

The deep snow outside covered the streets and sidewalks, soaking the hem of Rayne’s pants within moments, but the cold didn’t bother him. Instead of taking note of his surroundings, he glanced down, and across the street at the bus stop, where he could see the approaching bus off in the distance. The sense of panic welled up again and he felt his legs break into a run, almost unbidden, in his desperation to catch that bus. Luck seemed to be in his favor as the light opposite of him turned green, leaving the way clear for him to cross the street.

As he ran across, a sudden dreamlike sensation crept up upon him. Everything around him slowed to a creeping crawl, and reality suddenly didn’t feel so real anymore. The immense disorientation forced him to stop for just a moment, trying to get his bearings. A sudden screech broke through to his consciousness, and he turned his head to see a black car spiraling on a patch of ice, barreling towards him at unbelievable speed.

There was no time to get out of the way, no time for Rayne to even think beyond impending doom as he stood right in the car’s path. He heard shrieking tires against pavement, and a crushing metal weight colliding with his body. He could practically hear his bones shattering before his vision went black, and all warmth left his body.