ERIC ELYSIAN MURDERED BY SUCCESSOR
Eric and Zachary Elysian Found Dead; Presumably Murdered by Lynell Mize, Who Claims To Be the True Elysian Heir.
On Wednesday, April 17th, officials responded to several reports of gun fire and conducted a search of the Elysian house. What they found could change everything for the Registration and the country.
Zachary Elysian, killed by a gunshot to the chest, was found wrapped in a body bag in a walk-in freezer. He appeared to have been dead for nearly twenty-four hours.
More shocking was what the first responders found in the office of our country’s savior. Eric Elysian, youngest son of Gideon Elysian and advocate for citizens’ rights to a Registration, had been shot and stabbed and appeared to have bled out a few hours before his body was found. Fingerprints on the knife found in his body belong to Lynell Mize, a young law clerk and resident of Dallas. Mize, seen leaving Southwestern Medical Center on Sunday, was unavailable for questioning. Ramsey Davenport, a head Elysian Regulator, made a statement on Mize’s behalf.
“Mrs. Elysian thanks you for respecting her family’s privacy during this time,” Davenport said at Saturday’s Elysian press conference. “She mourns the deaths of both her cousin, Zachary, and her uncle, Eric, and is not to blame for either. Mrs. Elysian née Mize is currently being treated by the best doctors in our country, and we are optimistic she will be able to return to the Elysian mansion soon. When she’s able, she will accept her role as heir to and owner of the Registration. Until then, I will be acting in her stead.”
Davenport denied all allegations against Mize, including that she kidnapped her own daughter and had the adoptive parents killed. When asked about the legitimacy of Mize’s claim to the Registration, Davenport said, “Officials on staff have been briefed and back Mrs. Elysian’s claim with full confidence.”
If citizens were hoping for reassurance over the future of the Registration, they were disappointed. Davenport offered no comment on Mize’s plans and said only, “At this time, no decisions have been made, and no changes have been implemented.”
Despite Davenport’s confidence in Mize’s innocence, the investigations into the murders of Eric and Zachary Elysian are ongoing. Sources close to the case say detectives have questioned several Elysian staff members, and there is one eyewitness that claims to have seen Mize shoot Zachary Elysian. A few Elysian guards have left their posts in protest, but the majority seem to have accepted the change in leadership.
* * *
Lynell drops her phone onto her lap and leans back in the plush chair, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. The warm, all too familiar buzzing begins at the base of her neck, and she reaches up to rub the knot in her shoulder.
Daniel snores softly from their shared bed on the other side of the room. Exhaustion blurs the edges of Lynell’s thoughts and she envies her husband’s ability to sleep through the night without a sleeping aid. While he mercifully passes time in unconsciousness, Lynell has been stuck repeating the same routine for the past week, ever since her uncle was killed. Every day a nurse checks her vitals and she receives a fresh round of drugs to help with pain and to fight off infection. She sleeps for a few hours, often waking in a cold sweat in the echo of a nightmare.
Per usual, she moves to the chair under the large window, and spends the rest of the night scrolling through the news or social media to see what the country is saying about her.
First, they were at the hospital. But as soon as possible, they moved back to this house. “You need privacy and extra security,” Ramsey said. A few full-time nurses now treat them at the house.
Lynell might have argued if anyone else had suggested it, but Ramsey Davenport is the reason Lynell is alive. Though he used to work for her uncle, the man who tried to kill her a week ago, he betrayed Eric to help Lynell escape. And when Eric came at her with a knife, Ramsey didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
“I shot him, he’s dead,” Ramsey said back then. “You didn’t kill him. I did.”
Ramsey didn’t stop at saving her life. He continually tried to save her heart and mind by convincing her that he killed her uncle, that she doesn’t need to carry the guilt, despite what the news is reporting or what the police think.
Lynell doesn’t know Ramsey well, but she trusts him with her life. He’s already earned the trust a dozen times over.
So, naturally, she chose Ramsey to lead on her behalf while she and Daniel were in the hospital. With Eric and Zach dead, Lynell is the owner and leader of the Registration, but she’d be nothing without Ramsey at her side.
Lynell looks back at the article on her phone, posted almost two days ago. It isn’t bad; it’s actually the most accurate thus far, despite claiming Lynell is a murderer and kidnapper.
The Daily reported that “sources close to Mize say she plans on selling Registration Immunities,” and the Evening Post called her a “deluded rebel sympathizer,” implying that she recently escaped a mental institution. She attempted bringing up the articles to Ramsey on Friday after seeing three in a row, but he waved her off, promising that he’d take care of everything.
But she can see the truth in his eyes. He’s worried. A few days ago, she overheard him on the phone with Tamara Nelson, one of the Registration committee members. “The worse Mrs. Elysian looks to the public the more at risk we all are,” he said. “Every time someone calls her a murderer or a rebel sympathizer or weak, another rebellion attempt becomes more likely. I’m not confident we’ll survive this time.”
Like clockwork, the buzzing in her neck travels up and turns into a pulsing headache. The bruises on her face have faded, the cuts on her cheekbone and lip and limbs are covered in scabs, the concussion isn’t as bad as they feared, and the surgeons were able to reattach the minor tendons in the fingers of her broken left hand. But she still feels the pain every time she thinks about her life now. She still has a line of drugs to take. She still has months of rehab to look forward to after her hand heals. She still gets deep, stubborn headaches.
She defeated all the odds in surviving the Registration by multiple people, only to lose the life she knew.
Her phone lights up with a text from Ramsey. He sleeps even less than she, likely because he’s doing both of their jobs.
Lynell opens the text thread with her chief advisor.
Spoke to my contact in the police department a few hours ago. I’m confident they will rule Zachary’s death self-defense by Milton, one of the guards who died shortly after Zachary. They’re still looking into you for Eric, though. We will hear more this week, but they will likely want to ask you more questions.
A thick chord of grief tightens around Lynell’s heart when she reads her cousin’s name. She shuts her eyes, but the phone light still reaches her vision. Inhaling cold air through her nose, Lynell carefully breaks down the knot in her throat, trying to stifle tears.
Despite the way their relationship started, and the pain Lynell felt from Zach’s hands, his death pushes her to the edge of a breakdown. Somehow, in less than two weeks, Zach became her friend and family. She even dreamt of building a life that included him, her husband's best friend and the cousin she never knew she had, but who she quickly grew to love and trust.
But the dream was shot in the chest, and she watched it disappear before her eyes.
Her phone buzzes, and Lynell looks down to read Ramsey’s second text.
Of course, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to, and you’ll have your lawyer with you. Don’t let this freak you out. Nothing has changed since last we talked. We’ll get it handled.
She types back a quick thank you before setting her phone down. Thanks to Ramsey’s work with the Registration committee and an expedited DNA test, her claim as the true heir was legitimized. And with the might of the Registration backing her, Ramsey assured her that neither she nor Daniel would be charged with murder for the death of Eric or Zach.
Despite his reassurances, a constant thrum of anxiety lives in her mind, like an exposed wire waiting to spark. Ramsey is used to people in power always getting what they want, having things go their way. Lynell isn’t. Power or not, she can’t stop picturing handcuffs around her wrists, and a judge who pronounces her guilty.
When Daniel gives a soft snore, Lynell puts her phone on the chair and crosses the room. She can’t help but smile at Daniel’s peaceful face. She may have dozens of daunting tasks awaiting her, but at least she won’t be facing them alone.
Lynell crawls into the bed next to Daniel, who gives a little huff but turns without opening his eyes to make room for her. “Can’t sleep?” he mutters, voice rough and quiet.
Settling into his side, Lynell rests her head under his chin. She doesn’t reply, knowing he’ll fall back asleep soon. Sure enough, a few seconds pass before his breathing settles back into a slow rhythm. She shuts her eyes and matches her breathing to his, letting the time pass in peace, until the door cracks open and Ramsey sticks his head in.
They make eye contact, and he disappears, clearly waiting for her outside. Lynell muffles a groan before climbing out of bed, pulling on a robe, and leaving the room. Wearing a three-piece suit sans tie, Ramsey stands a few feet away, tablet in hand and beard perfectly combed.
“Good morning,” he says, with a quick nod.
She eyes the watch on his wrist, noticing it’s barely seven. “Are we always going to be awake this early?”
“Yes.”
Lynell presses her lips together and exhales through her nose in reluctant acceptance. “What’s up?”
“We have some material to go over before the meeting this afternoon.”
Lynell runs her fingers through her tangled hair, dread weighing her limbs as she thinks about the thick stack of files she’s only halfway through.
The Registration, a system that provides two weeks every quarter during which any citizen with an unused Registration can legally kill one person, is owned by the Elysian heir. It also has a committee board of eight members: four are elected by the American people and four are chosen by the oligarchs. The Registration is a private business, and the committee is the equivalent of a board of directors. But due to its complicated and important nature, the board often acts as a bridge of sorts between the Registration, the citizens, and the oligarchs.
She’s met three of the members so far, but the other five remain a mystery. Ramsey scheduled this meeting while she was still in the hospital over the weekend, hooked up to a morphine drip and without any real concept of how much was required of her. After spending two weeks expecting to die any second, thinking about the future—even a few days into the future—had been an exercise in creative fantasies. And appointments were little more than conceptual ideas, not real events she’d have to attend, much less be prepared for.
But now the day is here. In a few hours, she’ll be meeting with people who, two weeks ago, were mythical higher beings. These people have been working to keep the most important business in the country running for years, some since before Lynell was born. Now she’s supposed to waltz into a room as their new leader? She can’t even walk into what used to be her uncle’s house—now hers—without having a full-blown panic attack.
“Mrs. Elysian?” Ramsey says, pulling her from her thoughts. Judging by the way he’s watching her, Lynell assumes he said something she didn’t register.
She blinks, rocking back on her heels. “Sorry, what?”
Ramsey presses his lips together but doesn’t comment on her attention lapse. “I think it best that only you and I attend this meeting. We’ll introduce Mr. Carter later.”
Lynell frowns. “Why do we need to introduce Daniel at all?”
“He’s your husband. The committee needs to know and trust him as well.”
“Right,” Lynell says, even though Ramsey’s words are a shock to her system. It won’t be difficult for the committee to learn of Daniel’s rebel past. They may already know if they’ve done any sort of research. “Give me thirty minutes and I’ll meet you in the office.”
“What about breakfast?” Ramsey asks, a slight note of concern in his voice. If it weren’t for his vigilant attention to keeping a schedule, Lynell would’ve missed half her meals this week. “I can have it brought to your room again.”
Lynell nods. “Thanks.” They’ve been back in the Elysian mansion for almost three days and each one has been a reminder of the nightmare this building was two weeks ago. Lynell hasn’t gone anywhere in the house but her and Daniel’s bedroom, and the office Ramsey had the staff set up next door. Nearly every meal is brought to them, and the nurses come to the bedroom to change their bandages and take their vitals.
“I will see you in the office at eight,” Ramsey says, excusing himself.
Lynell returns to the bedroom to find Daniel awake. He pushes the blankets back so she can slide in, and he kisses the side of her head.
“Maybe we should go to my place. You might sleep better there,” he says.
Lynell shakes her head. “We can’t. You heard what Ramsey said. We need to be surrounded by twenty-four-seven security. Plus, I need to be close to the Registration offices.”
“Then pick somewhere else for us to go. You’re the Elysian heir. Shouldn’t you have the option to choose where you live?”
She shrugs. “Maybe long-term. But right now, we don’t have the luxury of choosing where we do business when people are threatening to rip said business from my hands.”
“This isn’t a place to raise a child.” Daniel leans forward, his eyes widening slightly with an idea. “We could find a smaller place that has a guest house where the Raines’ could stay. Maybe that’ll help convince them.”
“Daniel . . .” she mutters, too quietly for him to hear.
Though Anna is their biological child, Lynell put her up for adoption after giving birth. But the couple who adopted Anna, the only parents her child has known, are now dead—collateral in the struggle against Eric Elysian—and Anna’s adoptive grandparents, the Raines, are fighting for custody. They are probably worried for her safety if Anna comes to live with her birth parents.
Lynell doesn’t blame them. If she gains custody, Anna will be in the spotlight—and a possible target for anyone wanting to get to Lynell.
“And when the people get to know you and realize the good you’re going to do for this country, they’ll love you as much as I do. You’ll keep the business, and we’ll have Anna.”
The corner of her mouth pulls up, but Daniel’s comment has the opposite effect than he probably expected. She knows that he believes the single “good” option is to listen to the rebels and end the Registration. But Lynell isn’t so sure. Not when she has no idea yet what it would really look like to choose good.
“Thank you, Danny.” Lynell presses a kiss to his stubble-lined cheek before climbing off the bed to go take a shower.
By the time she’s finished, their breakfast has already been delivered. Lynell eats quickly and heads to the office, which is right next to her bedroom. In the hallway, she gets a glimpse of the staircase that leads to the first floor. Her heart flutters. Unbidden, a memory of the first time she crossed the threshold engulfs her mind like a choke hold.
She’d been terrified, standing next to her cousin, who was still a stranger at that point. Every man in her radius posed a lethal threat, and the building was so imposing that she felt no more significant than a worm stuck on hot pavement. The dining room on one side of the front door will forever be the place her life changed, when Eric told her she was an Elysian and she had to die. Across from it is the sitting room, which crawls with nightmares that she’d give everything in her newly-stuffed bank account to burn down.
So much blood, screaming, loss, and pain. A shelter for ghosts that will haunt her till the day she dies.
She bites her cheek to rip her mind back to the present, and with a deep breath, she pushes open the office door.
“Mrs. Elysian, perfect,” Ramsey says. The office was once a spare bedroom, but he had it transformed so Lynell wouldn’t have to use her late uncle’s office. Simply thinking about the room sends a chill down her spine as she recalls the feeling of her knife sinking into Eric’s flesh.
Ramsey stands next to the L-shaped desk sitting in front of two large, fixed windows. Lynell crosses the room to slide into the chair, which holds her body like a perfect mold, grabs the edge of the desk and rolls forward, studying the folders and binders Ramsey has already set out for her.
Sitting in one of the black chairs across the expanse of the heavy desk, Ramsey gestures to the stack of files on Lynell’s left and asks, “You’ve already familiarized yourself with the general files, right?”
Lynell nods, though she feels overwhelmed with the information they hold on the most important events and people in American history, from the war that prompted Gideon Elysian to suggest the Registration, to the evolution of the oligarchs, the Registration committee, and the ever-changing groups of rebels. Of course, like every citizen, she knows most of it, and even knows more about the rebels thanks to Daniel. But the Resurrection, the current largest anti-Registration group, is less familiar. And, regardless, in her current position, all this information takes on new significance.
Ramsey smiles and taps the thickest binder directly in front of Lynell. “We’ll go through this before the meeting. It explains the Registration’s day-to-day operations, the overview of financials, summaries of past committee meetings and any motions that have been passed, possible laws or policies that have been suggested, upcoming policy changes, and more.”
Eyes wide, Lynell looks from the binder to Ramsey. “Should we postpone the meeting to Monday, so I have more time to go over all of this?”
Ramsey shakes his head. “The committee needs to get to know you. We’ll be vulnerable until all eight members back your position.”
“Why do they have to back it?” Lynell asks. “I have the code, and I’m the only Elysian left.” She doesn’t mention that her daughter technically has Elysian blood, but judging by Ramsey’s pressed lips, it’s obvious he thought of the child. “The Registration is mine.”
“Yes, well, it’s best to have people on your side. Royal blood and a throne may give a man the title of king, but it does not make him king. It is the support of his council, people, and army that gives the king his power. If he does not have the money of nobility and loyalty of guards, then he’ll easily be overthrown.”
Lynell sucks in her bottom lip, biting on the dead skin as she watches Ramsey talk. Her mother used to call her dad a king, and Lynell grew up imagining him ruling a faraway kingdom. Even Eric compared his position to that of a king. She wonders when, if ever, this office chair will begin to feel like a throne.
“So, you’re saying that everything I did to survive was pointless?” She struggles to keep the anger out of her voice, but the lift of Ramsey’s eyebrow suggests she fails.
“Not at all. It’s much easier for a king to gain the loy—”
“Ramsey,” Lynell interrupts, holding her hand up to stop him. “Please drop the king metaphor and speak plainly.”
He nods, unperturbed, and continues. “Having the name and blood of an Elysian is essential to gaining the committee’s loyalty. You gain all of this as the surviving Elysian heir.” Once again, he gestures at the binders in front of him and then around the room, as if to encompass the house and everything and everyone inside. “You inherit money, information, fame, and the loyalty of those who will always follow an Elysian, no matter what. All of this being yours by law is what made you a threat to Mr. Elysian. However, if you don’t make an effort with the committee, you’ll lose their support, and their support is vital. They are your connection to the oligarchs. They have tremendous sway and influence over the entire country. Who you are has given you this power. What you do is how you’ll keep it.”
“Right.” Lynell nods. “If the committee disapproves of me and actively works against my claim, I lose it all.”
“Precisely.”
“What about my people? The guards and informants and employees?”
“Most are loyal to you by default. But it would be in your best interest to get to know them and gain their trust as well.” Ramsey leans forward and taps a binder at her far right. “This has a list of all positions within the company and their roles, salaries, importance, and how long each employee has been in that position or with the company. I suggest you wait to get to that one until you have the committee and oligarchs on your side, and have had time to go over any important upcoming dates and meetings. Those few dozen people are much more powerful than the thousands of employees on your payroll.”
“Got it,” Lynell says. She vaguely remembers discussing basic positions in the company and telling Ramsey to make executive decisions for her until she was out of the hospital, but the details of the conversation escape her.
She presses her hands on either side of the main binder. “Where do I start?”
“First, you need to firmly decide who your Chief Operating Officer will be, as they’ll go with you to the meeting and help guide you through everything.”
Lynell frowns. She’d been thinking of Ramsey as her right hand, but that can hardly be his official title. Pieces of that far away conversation in the hospital room return, and she thinks she remembers promoting Ramsey to . . . something. “Didn’t I make you the COO already?”
Ramsey doesn’t smile, but Lynell imagines him grinning with fondness. One day, she’ll earn that fond grin from him. “You technically promoted me to the position of ‘figuring everything the fuck out and keeping my family safe.’ I was one of the five Head Regulators, but since that conversation, I’ve been working as your Chief Security Officer. The last one died when Zach—” He stops short, but Lynell feels the rest of his sentence deeper than if he had said it.
“So, who’s my COO?”
“You don’t have one yet. I’ve been handling most of those responsibilities, with assistance from others.”
“Who was Eric’s COO?”
“Robert Harmon, but he’s been wanting to retire for years,” Ramsey says. “During the . . . unconventional transfer of ownership from Mr. Elysian to you, Harmon took the opportunity to step down. I’ve included Mr. Elysian’s list of Harmon’s possible successors. There’s also a list of people qualified to be your CSO, if you’d like me to return to my position of head Regulator.”
Lynell is shaking her head before Ramsey finishes speaking. There are few people she trusts, and Ramsey is one of them. She’s not about to lose him to some stranger her uncle deemed worthy of the position. “Actually, I’d like for you to officially take the position of COO. “
Ramsey manages not to smirk, but she can still see a flicker of pride in his eyes. “Of course,” he says. “And as for your CSO?”
Lynell groans. “There are options here?” she asks, holding up the folder he’d slid across the desk.
Ramsey nods. She picks at the edge of the folder, thinking. Next to Ramsey, there’s one other Regulator and employee that she sees herself genuinely trusting, and he’s currently acting as her main bodyguard.
“What about Hayes Booth?” she asks.
“Perhaps,” Ramsey says. “He’s a bit young, but with the proper training, he could do well.”
She wants to hire Hayes right then, but her personal feelings aren’t enough for such an important role. So, she taps the folder and says, “I’ll look through it later, but I want Hayes added to the candidates. Until we can focus on the appointment or start Hayes’s training, let the other four Head Regulators deal with it. As long as you don’t actively distrust any of them.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ramsey says, which feels weird. Lynell is two decades younger than him, not a ‘ma’am.’ “Now that that’s settled, let’s begin.”
He launches into explanation after explanation while they flip through the binders. Lynell follows as well as she can, highlighting certain sections and sticking tabs at the top of pages. The overwhelming responsibility of her new position seems to flow over her in waves each time she reads something new.
Worse, every other page has her thoughts wandering off to other concerns not at all connected to the Registration.
She reads about Warner Golden, a seventy-three-year-old committee member, and his daughter, whom no one has seen or heard from in years, and this makes her think about the many dangers to Anna. She reads about Michaels Sutton, the only oligarch amongst the seven men who also actively dislikes the Registration, and wonders if she’ll have the courage to speak against a system most of the country seems to love.
After a mind-numbing hour, Lynell finishes with one thick file and opens the one on today’s meeting and the objectives. As she does, she somehow feels that this is where she was meant to be, right here, tackling this behemoth one bite at a time, but worries she’ll drown in responsibilities. This complex world is something she’s never imagined to be hers. The magnitude of responsibility, knowing the balance of lives that are in her hands, is an adrenaline kick the equivalent of fifteen espressos on an empty stomach.
She rubs her eyes and props her elbows on the desk, about to read something called “Three-Part-Policy,” when she wrinkles her nose at a rich, powdery, bitter smell. She looks up from the file to ask if Ramsey also notices, but her words are drowned in the shriek that fills the entire house. The noise hits beyond her eardrums down to her bones, vibrating an almost painful rhythm. She barely has time to register the alarm before an all-consuming blast makes the vibration in her bones feel gentle.
The world shudders and breaks around her, launching her from the chair. Agony bursts across her arm, forcing her onto her back, blinking up at the ceiling. A sharp ringing replaces all other sounds. Dust and smoke clog her lungs, her eyes stinging from particles filling the tear ducts. Black spiderwebs stretch across her vision.
Slowly, her brain catches up with the last few seconds. She smelt smoke. Heard a fire alarm.
Then there was the boom so loud that only one thing could be responsible.
A bomb.