Author's note: Again, I am astonished that someone actually likes this. I mean, look at it, it sucks! Well, might as well give you what you want. Here we go, with possibly my stupidest chapter yet.

Chapter eight
Liquidation

A few minutes later, Martin, Tony, Roger and Carl had escaped the media and went to lunch at the Empirical Taste Testers, a new restaurant designed to appeal to everyone's tastes.

"Why'd you take us here? This restaurant's food sucks!" Tony yelled, despite the fact that two of the waiters were less than ten feet away.

"This building is made completely of wood. I don't want to risk a falling cement block with Roger," Martin explained.

"I appreciate the concern, but you could've picked a nicer restaurant," Roger said.

"If you don't like it, I'll have yours," Carl said, who had eaten his food extremely quickly.

Suddenly, Jesse walked in wearing a turtleneck. He saw the four eating and decided to sit down with them. "Hey, guys. How's you're day going?"

"Well, Roger's day will very likely get much worse soon, but other than that, we're fine." Tony said.

"Is this just some big joke to you?" Roger said.

"FUCK yeah, it's a big joke to me!" Tony yelled. "You know why? Because I'm not gonna die!" Tony said.

"Charming," Jesse said dryly.

"Ah, I almost forgot. Why are you wearing a turtleneck and, more importantly, why are you not killing yourselves?" Tony said.

"Well, I went home and tried to hang myself, but the rope snapped. Then I tried to strangle myself garrote style with a piece of wire, but the wire snapped and the wound around my neck healed instantly. However, I've still got a nasty scar, and I didn't want to scare anyone."

"So, why did you stop there?" Tony asked.

"Because I'm starting to have second thoughts about this whole suicide thing," Jesse said. "It's always just when you're about to kill yourself that you think of all the reasons you shouldn't, and all that regret's starting to build up."

Martin sighed. "All right. If you don't want to kill yourself, we won't make you."

Jesse's response surprised him. "No, I have to do this to save you guys. There's no other way. Where's Linda, by the way?"

"She's at home," Martin said.

"Oh." Jesse looked crestfallen. "In the meantime, do you guys have any idea how I could kill myself?"

"You could try jumping off the new Eastgarden skyscraper," Carl suggested.

"That place is still under construction," Jesse said.

"Exactly! No awnings to land on," Carl said. "If you're lucky, you might even fall into a pit of hot asphalt."

"That's a good idea," Jesse said. As he got up to leave, Martin noticed something strange on his palm.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that? It's just some markings I got when I twisted the wire around my hand," Jesse responded.

Martin looked at them closely.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear that looked like 180," Martin said.

"Really? Oh yeah, I see it," Jesse said.

"Dude! 180 was the name of the highway Reggie ate it on!" Carl said.

"And you all were sitting in box 18-O," Roger said.

"Okay, that's weird, but what does it mean?" Martin asked.

"Don't you know? Flight 180 was the one where that one dude saved those people's asses before anybody else did," Tony said.

Everybody looked at him.

"What? Just because I'm the tough football guy, I can't know anything?"

"It must be another sign. What are the markings on your other hand?" Martin asked.

"Oh, nothing. They're just gibberish," Jesse said.

Everybody looked and, sure enough, there was nothing distinctive in his right hand.

"You guys must be even crazier than I thought. Looking for signs in somebody's palm!" Tony said, laughing.

"Did I hear something about signs in someone's palm?" a voice said. They all turned around to see a woman. "I am a palm reader."

"Okay, palm reader. Prove me wrong." Tony shoved Jesse's right hand into her face.

The palm reader looked at his hand for a second or two. "I do not have the benefit of being hit in the head multiple times, Mr. Ortega, and I'm not gullible enough to buy this.

"However, this is interesting," she continued.

"What's interesting?" Martin said quickly.

"Well, some of these scars have crossed your lifeline in different angles, which would normally say exactly how you die. These first two together say that you will die in flames. This next one says you will drown. This fourth one says your head will be destroyed. The fifth one – and this one is one of your natural palm lines – says you will be stabbed. This next one says you will have your head destroyed again, and this last one means you will be crushed."

"Wait a minute," Martin said. "Are you sure the one that says he will be crushed doesn't come before the ones with the fire?"

"Yes, I am sure." With that, the palm reader walked away.

"What was that all about?" Tony asked.

"I'm not so sure Roger is supposed to die next after all," Martin said.

"What do you mean? Didn't you have all that premonition shit about the order?" Tony asked.

"Yes, but I didn't save him. You did. Maybe we got the whole thing wrong," Martin said.

"So what do you suggest we do about it?" Roger asked.

"I don't know. Let's all head to Linda's house. If we're wrong about the order, she might be next."

With that, they all left, leaving Jesse alone. "Well, I guess it's back to killing myself," he said gloomily as he walked out to the bus stop, waiting for a bus to take him to the Eastgarden mall.

A while later, as they were driving down the road, Tony asked, "So, what are you talking about having the order wrong?"

"Well, I told you that this sort of thing happened before a bunch of times? Well, what I didn't mention was that none of them are living today. They never lasted more than a year, because Death kept coming back at them. One of the ways he did that was by tricking them. He made them think it was over, but it all ended up in red herrings.

"Well, sometimes the people who survived would goof up. Maybe they'd get the order wrong, or miss someone, or think that they were next when they really weren't. So what if we did that? What if we can never get the order right and the only way we can survive this is by random action or freak coincidence?"

"Whoa, just calm down," Roger said. "If Death does come to get you, it'll be a lot easier for him to get you if you're a nervous wreck. You've had a long day, so why don't you just lie down and get some rest? We'll wake you up when we reach Linda's house."

"Maybe you're right," Martin said. "I'll just lie down and relax." So he reclined and went to sleep – but little relaxation would find him there…

Martin looked around. He appeared to be standing on a gigantic chessboard that went on for miles. Billions of chess pieces on billions of squares, as far as the eye could see. Some were tall, some were short, some black, some white, but they all had one thing in common.

"They're all pawns," remarked Martin. "No other pieces, just pawns."

Of course, Martin. Everyone's a pawn.

Martin turned and, looming in front of him, was Death in all his horror.

I'd ask if you want to play a game, but you'd just cheat. Not that it matters, of course; I always win.

"Leave me and my friends alone!" Martin yelled.

Leave you alone? For millions of years I have collected the souls of your forefathers, and you hope to stop me by just saying 'Leave me alone'?

"You can't do this! We beat you, fair and square!"

You didn't beat me, you just cheated me. Well, the ball's in my court now, and you will not be able to do it again.

"You can't just kill us! We have free will!" Martin said desperately.

Why of course, you do! Suddenly, the chessboard vanished, only to be replaced by an endless line of dominoes, which were steadily falling. If you asked a domino's opinion, it, too, would say that it didn't want to fall down. But the dominos fall anyway, one after the other, like clockwork.

"Well, not us!" Martin yelled defiantly. "We stepped out of the line, and you couldn't do shit to stop us!"

Suddenly, Death began laughing. I used to be infuriated when the first one cheated me. How could something so small defeat me, even for a second?

But then it passed. Everyone still ended up dead, and I even had a little fun.

So do your worst, Martin Lopez. Because no matter what you do, you can't beat me. Your domino will fall, and I'll make sure it falls the hardest of all!

Martin woke up in a cold sweat, feeling not at all relaxed.

"Oh good, you're up," Tony said, not noticing his discomfort.

"Martin, what's wrong? Did you have another vision?" Roger asked.

"No, not another vision…"

"Then what did you see?" Roger asked.

"Oh, it's nothing – hey, look. We're here!" Martin said, happy to change the subject.

Indeed, they had arrived at Linda's house. As they got out, Tony asked, "By the way, is your sister dating anyone right now?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Martin said, walking towards the house.

"Hey! Hey! Someone want to help the handicapped man?" Tony called.

"I got you," Roger said, wheeling Tony forwards.

Martin knocked on the door, but when the door opened, he was greeted by a less than warm welcome.

"Leave me alone, shitfaced – Oh, it's you," Linda said when she saw Martin.

"Yeah, it's me. Who else would it be?"

"Funny you should ask," Linda said angrily. "So far, seven kids have rung my doorbell and hit me with water balloons, all because of your guest appearance on CS Fucking N!"

"I'm sorry, Linda. It wasn't my idea to have it on CSN-"

"Well, it was certainly your idea to tell everyone I was going to die because of water! You know, every time those kids threw a water balloon at me, I was scared shitless!"

"I'm sorry, Linda."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you took our entire case and turned it into a laughingstock! Now, I am going to take a shower, and if you take a shit on my dignity again, kindly let me know!" With that, she stormed upstairs.

"Never mind about whether she's dating or not, she's batshit!" Tony said.

"Shut up, let's just go back to trying to figure out what we did wrong," Martin said, clearly upset by what Linda had said.

Meanwhile, upstairs in her bedroom, Linda began to undress and get ready for her shower. She locked her bathroom door when she went in, fearing a peeping Tony.

What Linda didn't realize was that a wind blew through the room after she had gotten into the bathroom, blowing her clothes under the door between the hallway and the bedroom, sealing it as well.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Martin frantically browsed the web, looking at all of the previous disasters, searching for a clue, any clue, as to what they had done wrong.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Linda was preparing for her shower when she saw a shadow inside the upright frosted glass shower, as if someone was in there. When she looked, however, she saw nothing. Shrugging, she stepped in, closed the door, and turned on the shower.

Downstairs, Martin slumped back in his chair. "It's no use. I can't find anything that gives me a clue as to what we did wrong!"

"Well, I'm going to watch a little TV," Tony said as he wheeled away from the computer.

"Don't give up, Martin," Carl said. "We're all counting on you."

Upstairs, Linda was showering when she noticed that the water was not draining. When she bent down to examine the drain, the showerhead fell off and water started gushing straight out of the pipe, boiling hot water. Frantically, she reached for the shower door handle, only to have it break off in her hand.

Downstairs, Roger said, "Wait a minute. Go back to that last thing about the survivors of the highway thing."

Dubious, Martin scrolled back up. "What, that the people that had been saved by the original 180 survivors were only dealt with after most of the original survivors had died?"

"Exactly!"

Upstairs, the shower began to fill up with scalding water. Screaming in pain and terror, Linda tried to break the shower glass, but was unable to do any damage.

"So, if I understand this correctly, that means that you are actually last to die," Martin said. "That means that the people who are really next are-"

"We interrupt this program to bring you a special announcement. Danielle and Jason Durlap, two of the stadium survivors, have been found dead from a fire in their apartment; a fire that, ironically, mirrors one several years earlier in the exact same room which killed a survivor of a disaster similar to Danielle and Jason's-"

Martin muted the television. "Oh, my god, we as good as killed them!" he gasped.

Roger grabbed him. "Get a hold of yourself! We made an honest mistake, but if we just keep our heads, nobody else will have to die. Now, who's next?"

Martin thought frantically, but days without sleep had taken their toll. "Uh, let's see, it's…" Suddenly, he saw a few drops of water drip down from the ceiling above. "LINDA!" He, Carl and Roger ran up the stairs, while Tony just sat in his wheelchair, frozen.

Upstairs, the water had reached four feet, and Linda was still having no success at breaking the glass. "Martin!" she frantically screamed.

Tony, Roger and Carl reached the top of the stairs and tried to get into Linda's room. The handle turned, but the door refused to open. It took them a long time to figure out that the clothes were causing the door jam, and it took longer still to go back down the stairs, find a yardstick, and use it to dislodge the clothes.

By this time, the water level had long since passed over Linda's head and had almost filled the glass box. She tried to stay above water, but was not having much success and soon passed out.

When Martin, Roger and Carl finally managed to open the bedroom door, they faced another door between them and the bathroom. Roger tried the handle. "It's locked!" he yelled.

"Stand back, guys. This isn't the first time I've had to break down a door," Carl said. He delivered a pair of kicks to the door handle, and the lock broke off, opening the door.

They had just enough time to see the glass shower filled with water before the weight of the water caused the shower to shatter, flooding the room with hot water and broken glass.

"Linda!" Martin screamed, and, to his horror, he saw Linda's lifeless body impaled on a large shard of glass.

"NOOOOO!"

"Wait a minute. Go back to that last thing about the highway survivors thing," Roger said.

"Huh?" Martin said, pale as a ghost.

"What happened?" Roger asked.

"I had another vision. Linda's about to die!" Martin yelled.

"Oh, shit," Carl said.

"Let's go!" said Roger, and he and Carl ran upstairs. Once they reached the bedroom door, they found it jammed.

"Where's Martin?" Carl asked.

"Here I am!" yelled Martin, running up with a yardstick. He began to push the clothes away from the slot, and they were soon in.

When they reached the bathroom door, it was once again locked. "Carl, break it down!" Martin screamed.

Carl did just that, and the door opened. The glass shower, although not as full as before, was dangerously full all the same. Martin tried to push the shower door open, but all of the water behind the door impeded his progress.

"Come on, guys! Help!" he yelled, and all three of them pushed against the door. A trickle of water began to come out, and it started to make its way across the floor, where a hairdryer lay on the ground.

"Carl! Get that hairdryer!" Martin hollered, and Carl grabbed it and prevented it from electrocuting them all, but the shower door slammed shut when he did so. Carl raced back to the door and resumed pushing it, until they were finally able to open the shower door.

A deluge of water greeted them, followed by Linda's body. Martin's relief that they had saved her was cut off when he saw that she was not breathing. Frantically, he began to do CPR on her, but she still remained lifeless.

"No," he breathed as he continued his CPR. "Not again. Not like Anna. Not like mom," he said, on the verge of tears by then.

Suddenly, Linda started to cough. Her eyes opened and she looked at Martin. "Hey, bro. What's going on?"

"Oh, thank god you're all right," said Martin as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Linda looked around. "You saved me, didn't you?" she asked.

"No, I didn't." Everyone looked at him. "I didn't save any one of you, I just stalled. Worse, I killed Anna. If I hadn't done anything, she would still be alive. Instead, I killed her and everyone else!"

"It didn't happen like that," consoled Roger.

"Yes, it did! And another thing, Roger. In my premonition, you survived. You even tried to warn me just as I was about to die. You saved me, and how did I repay you? I killed you!

"You were right, Linda. I'm no hero."

"No, you were right, Martin," Linda said. "You saved me, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I didn't save Joseph when that block fell, or Arianna when she fell off the ledge, or Reggie when that sign came through the window, or Jason or Danielle when their apartment caught on fire, or mom when she dropped that toaster in the sink and was electrocuted and I just watched like it was some sort of fucking movie!"

Finally, the tears that had been waiting surged forward, and Martin began to sob uncontrollably.

Linda put her hand on Martin's shoulder. "There was nothing you could have done, Martin.

"How do you know?" Martin demanded.

"Because of what you've been doing." Everyone turned to see Tony, who had apparently crawled up the stairs once he heard all the commotion. "You haven't slept in three days, you've gone ballistic every time somebody left your sight, and you passed up an opportunity to have free sex with hundreds of women! Now, in spite of all this, you feel guilty."

"What's your point?"

"Consider what happened when your mom died. You probably lost a few nights' sleep, and maybe you got a little clingy, but I bet that if even one pretty girl had asked if you wanted to have sex, you would have jumped."

Martin stopped him. "So, what you're saying is, you think that I don't feel guilty for my own mother's death?"

"What I'm saying is you know you didn't feel guilty and you shouldn't now."

"Tony, don't be such a prick!" Linda said.

"You say that now, but if you ever try being a prick, you'll realize it's far too addicting to quit."

"Don't listen to him, Martin. The point is, there was nothing you could have done."

"I know, but that doesn't make me feel any better," Martin said. "And what if there's nothing I can do now, either? What if all of this is pointless?"

Linda hugged him. "We'll get through this," she whispered. "I know we will."

Meanwhile, at the top of the Eastgarden skyscraper, Jesse Smith prepared for his final suicide attempt. He had timed it perfectly, for all of the construction workers were on break and nobody would see him fall.

He looked down 23 stories to the ground. No awnings, just as Carl had suggested. He bent his knees, ready to jump. A single tear fell from his eye all the way to the ground, joining the countless raindrops still falling.

Suddenly, he walked away, pulled out his phone, and called Martin. "Martin, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Jesse. Are you at the Eastgarden skyscraper?"

"Yes, I am."

"Good. Thank God, it will be over soon."

"Martin, wait. I'm starting to not want to die. I'm not sure if this is the right thing to do."

What Jesse didn't know was that when the crane operator left the crane, it was still holding an I-beam, and that the turn handle, which sat just under the air freshener, was very nearly in the Turn Clockwise position.

On the other end of the phone, Martin put his head in his hands. "All right. I can't force you to kill yourself. Come back, and we'll figure out what to do next."

"No!" yelled Jesse, starting to cry. "I have to do this! If I don't die, we'll all die!"

"Okay, Jesse. Just remember, it's your choice."

What Jesse did know was that a strong wind knocked the air freshener off the mirror and onto the turn lever, causing the crane to swing its I-beam, knocking over and activating a number of power tools and pinning Jesse's arm to a wall of sheet metal behind him.

"Oh, fuck! AAAH!" Jesse screamed in pain.

"Jesse! What's the matter?" Martin asked worriedly through the phone.

"He's here for me! Death's here for me!" Jesse hollered.

"Hold on, Jesse. We'll be right there." Martin hung up. "Jesse's in trouble."

"I thought Carl was next," Linda said worriedly.

"We were wrong before. We've got to save him," Martin said.

"Well, count me out," Tony said. "I have places to be and women to fuck."

"Were you not listening? We need to help!" Roger yelled.

"Okay, then you guys get on with that," Tony responded lackadaisically. "I couldn't care less whether you live or die. I, on the other hand, am very important to me, and I will not risk myself to save your sorry asses."

"If you don't care about any of us, then why did you save me?" Roger demanded.

"Okay, you want to know why I saved you? Well, I'll tell you a secret – when I tackled you, I was just tackling you for fun. I had no idea you were about to be killed. I didn't care then, and I don't care now." With that, he crawled away.

"Well, count me in," said Linda, who had redressed.

"No, you can't. You just survived death, you're in no position to fight him again."

"Of course, I am. We need to stick together, remember?" Linda said.

"Linda-"

"You should know by now, it's no use arguing with me. I'm going."

Martin sighed. "All right. Let's go save Jesse!"