Interlude VI — Fame and Fortune

"Offices of Luther, Renalds and Portman, how may I direct your call?"

"...Hi. I… I'm not sure."

"Do you have a case number?"

"No."

"Have you employed our services in the past?"

"No, I… I don't think so. My parents had a different lawyer."

"Did someone from our firm give you a card?"

"No… I was told you guys were good at protecting people. Like whistleblowers."

"...One moment please."

…

…

"Hello. My name is Linda Milgram-Renalds. Let me be clear up front: I do not need your name or any identifying information at this stage. Your anonymity and your safety is our top priority. If at any time you feel a threat to your wellbeing, inform us immediately and we will take the appropriate steps. You may also terminate our relationship at any moment if you feel our services are inadequate. Do you understand these protections?"

"Yeah."

"You should also know that whistleblowing is fully protected by federal law. It's my job to make sure you don't get tripped up along the way, but the law is on your side."

"...I'm not sure if I'm a whistleblower or not. This is all kinda new to me."

"Well, let's start at the beginning. What organization or company are we discussing?"

"Uhh… well it's not a company really. It's a town."

"A government entity?"

"Not… not really. Look, I'm sorry, maybe I called the wrong place."

"If it's not whistleblowing, are you still trying to expose some form of wrongdoing that the public should be aware of?"

"Yeah. That's right."

"Then I believe I can still be of service. Our firm is more than capable of helping you reach the right people and filing the appropriate suits, if necessary."

"I don't think there's anyone to sue anymore. They're… they're kinda all dead."

"...Sir, may I ask… What are we discussing exactly?"

"Rallsburg. I'm from Rallsburg."

"...You're a survivor?"

"Yeah."

"...If I may, why didn't you come forward to the FBI?"

"I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid for my life. You saw the news, right? Jerry Hauserman."

"...Yes."

"I knew him. He was an asshole, but he always brought my stuff on time and never dented it. Seeing him like that…"

"Are you saying that you know what happened to Rallsburg?"

"Yeah. I was there, the whole time. I saw everything."

"And revealing this information would put your life in danger?"

"My life's in danger already. But yeah, if I told anyone, it'd probably get worse. Way worse. I need protection."

"Protection from whom?"

"Well… everyone, really."

"...Everyone, sir?"

"Once I tell this story, the whole world's gonna want a part of it."

"...One moment please."

…

…

"Sir, we're prepared to offer you our full services at no cost up front. We can provide discreet transportation and armed security around the clock, as well as room and board under a false identity, while we work on preparing your case. I can offer this to you in writing when we meet, but this is provisional on some proof of your identity and your story."

"Huh?"

"I need to know you are who you say you are, and that your story is true."

"Oh. Okay, I can do that."

"I can send a car to pick you up immediately."

"...Can you be in the car too?"

"If that makes you more comfortable."

"I'm really scared. I don't know who to trust anymore."

"Where am I picking you up?"

"I'm calling from Matlock. The post office. Do you know where that is?"

"I'll find it."

"It's south of Rallsburg."

"It might be a while. That's a long drive. Wait right there, and don't talk to anyone. We're on our way."

"...Thank you."

He hung up the phone, then walked outside and thanked the nice old man who'd let him use it. His own was long-lost and long-dead, and his wallet was nowhere to be found, so for the moment he felt totally stranded. Not that he had anywhere to go.

Two and a half hours later, they finally rolled up. He'd been hiding in the shade underneath the general store. Only a single car had driven by in that entire time, so the sudden squealing appearance of two dark SUVs startled him quite a bit. The man behind the mail counter and the man in the general store both leaned out, gazing dumbfounded at the sudden approach of what may as well have been an invasion.

He waited patiently in the shadows, not daring to show himself until he knew it was actually who he called. Still, this was a good first sign. They were already taking him seriously even when they had no actual proof yet. They lived up to their reputation.

A brown-haired woman in her thirties got out of the lead vehicle, phone in one hand and a briefcase in the other. She stepped out onto the dusty pavement, glancing around. "Hello?" she called, and he recognized her voice.

He emerged from around the side of the building, holding up his hands.

She glanced down at her phone, and her eyes widened in recognition. She beckoned him forward.

"Linda Renalds?"

She nodded. "Milgram-Renalds, please, or my father will have a fit from beyond the grave."

"You know who I am?"

"Well, yours was one of the few pictures widely published. Particularly after they… err… declared you dead."

"They did what?"

"Well, unlike many of the unidentified dead, you didn't have any next-of-kin. With the sizeable fortune of assets still in your name, the government wanted to reclaim those assets, and well…" She shrugged. "It's something we can work on."

"I'm dead?"

"Obviously not." Linda glanced around the place with a look of disdain, like she was getting ill just by standing there. "I'd rather not stay longer than absolutely necessary, if you don't mind. I just have a few quick papers for you to sign before we set off."

"Paperwork already?"

"This is a simple one. It states that you have entered our legal service and that I can act as your legal counsel, with all the protections implied. You understand attorney-client privilege?"

"I can say whatever I want and you can't tell anyone unless I say so?"

"More or less. Unless you tell me you intend to commit a crime."

"No, definitely not."

"I didn't expect as much." She pointed out a couple lines further down. "This is only a temporary legal service that declares you have accepted our physical protection for the next twenty four hours in addition to our representation as a client. We'll extend it as long as necessary, but we want to have it in writing for the short-term here. At any time, you have the right to terminate this, as usual," she added, pointed at another line.

"Okay." He took her offered pen, which wrote perfectly in a nice, dark blue ink, and signed the line at the bottom.

She smiled, then took the page and slid it neatly back into the briefcase, snapping it shut with a satisfying click.

"Thank you for employing the services of Luther, Renalds and Portman, Mr. Price."

She held out her hand, and gingerly, Nate shook it.

"Now, let's get you somewhere more comfortable." She nodded toward the SUV, where a door popped open on command. A sharp-dressed man who barely seemed to fit in his suit was holding it open for him. Nate walked toward the car, feeling a bit more confident with every step.

Finally, he wasn't going to be stuck living in the wilderness and surviving off of scraps he could sneak away from Cinza and her people, or the deliveries Julian brought whenever he came back around. He wasn't going to sleep in a tent he'd stolen from one of Viper's old abandoned camps, or wrapped in a sleeping bag on the dirty ground. No, he was going back to the real life. The one he deserved.

The bundle of tight-bound handwritten journals tucked into his backpack were his ticket out of this hell.