The Corporation

By J. F. Gonzalez

Michelle Dowling found her dream job. The offer on her desk from Corporate Financial Consultants included a figh five figure salary, generous benefits and cushy perks. Finally, after escaping the psychological abuse of an emotionally cold mother and a series of dead-end jobs she could start planning a future with her fiance, Donald.

However, Michelle forgot the cardinal rule for any job offer; always read the fine print. She really should have gotten more details about her overtime hours, company policies, and exactly what they meant when they said "Welcome to the Corporate Financial Family".

Michelle isn't afraid of hard work. She's a dedicated employee, the kind any manager would want for his firm. But this Corporation requires much more than just dedication...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Midnight Library
• Release date: Oct 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301654635

Book preview

Praise for J. F. Gonzalez

In an era of horror fiction that's often reckless and overboard, Gonzalez brings intellect and a studied, consummate craft to the table, creating tales the right way: with deft characterization, riveting plotwork, and imagery sharper than a carpet razor. This is a rare type of writer indeed, tackling even hardcore and taboo subjects with brains and creative brawn. If you haven't heard of this guy yet, believe me, you will. It won't be long before Gonzalez is taking big bites out of the field of horror fiction - Edward Lee, author of Ghouls, Incubi, and The Bighead.

J. F. Gonzalez is a writer to watch. - Bentley Little, Author of The Store.

One of my must-read authors - The Horror Fiction Review

Gonzalez gives his audience what they crave in spades. - Cemetery Dance

J.F. Gonzalez is one of my favorite writers and I will gladly buy and quickly read anything he publishes. - Horror Drive-In

Forces the kind of visceral relationship between writer and reader that the best horror writing can produce. The New York Times Book Review

…places a great deal of personal responsibility onto the reader…It's not enough simply to ask why anyone would commit such horrors; we also have to wonder why we're so fascinated by the details. - Fangoria

Other Books by J. F. Gonzalez

Novels & Novellas

Clickers (with Mark Williams)

Conversion

Shapeshifter

Maternal Instinct

Fetish

Survivor

The Beloved

Bully

Hero (with Wrath James White)

Primitive

Clickers III: Dagon Rising (with Brian Keene)

The Corporation

Back From the Dead

It Drinks Blood

They

Clickers vs. Zombies

The Killings

Collections

Old Ghosts and Other Revenants

Maternal Instinct

When the Darkness Falls

The Summoning and Other Eldritch Tales

Anthologies (as editor)

Tooth and Claw (with Garrett Peck)

No part of this book may be used or reproduced, stored into or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or any other means now known or yet to be invented) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events and individuals is coincidental. This book is sold as is and neither the publisher, nor the author, will be responsible for any direct or consequential damages that may arise from the misuse of the information within.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes: This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

A Signed Limited First edition of this book was previously published by MorningStar Press.

The Corporation © 2010 by J. F. Gonzalez

Cover Illustration and Design © 2012 by Julia Atkins

All rights reserved

Midnight Library

Lititz, PA

For my parents,

Jesus and Glenda Gonzalez

Acknowledgements

Much of this novel was written while I was working a full-time job in the IT world as a Web Designer/Technical Writer/Database Administrator, but I drew on my entire past employment in the corporate world for much of it’s background. I’d like to take the time now to thank some of those people who were instrumental in its support and development.

My thanks to Larry Roberts for publishing this novel in its original limited edition; my thanks also go to Gilbert Schloss, Don D’Auria, and Shane Ryan Staley who provided support by buying (and publishing) other projects during the stages The Corporation went through numerous drafts. Steve Calcutt gets credit for repping me during this period. Special acknowledgement must be made to Julia Atkins, who provided the cover illustration for this new edition and provided much-needed assistance on the overall cover design. Special thanks to Mike Lombardo for providing the introduction.

Dori Miller gets credit for helping me with research and for sharing her own corporate horror stories from her years in the trenches. She also provided pre-reader feedback on an early draft of this bad boy, along with Todd Clark, Bob Strauss, and Jamie LaChance.

Brian and Cassi Keene, Bob Ford, David Nordhaus, Gord Rollo, Gene O’Neill, Jamie LaChance, Todd Clark, Bob Strauss, Gary Zimmerman, Dori, Michael Laimo, Geoff Cooper, and Ken Atkins provided safe havens from the madness of both this novel and the corporate world.

Ramona Pearce, Salpy Manjikian, Matt Thompson, Ken Atkins, Jeremiah Brown, and Bob Isn’t That Neat! Fegley, were like-minded allies in the corporate worlds that inspired much of this novel.

Cathy and Hannah Gonzalez get their own paragraph because they deserve it.

While this novel is completely fictitious and my original intention in writing it was to provide hours of bizarre and (I hope) suspenseful entertainment, I could not help but be drawn to some of the underlying themes that crept into the narrative. For a look at the truly scary, I direct you to the Mark Achbar/Jennifer Abbott documentary film The Corporation (2003), or the Human Resources Department of any large corporation.

THE CORPORATION

Fascism should more appropriately be called Corporatism because it is a merger of State and corporate power.

— Benito Mussolini (1883-1945)

PROLOGUE

From the New York Times

January 17, 1937

By Carl Jensen,

Times Business Staff Writer

It was announced today in a press conference that Hubert Marstein, the former President of Alexander Steel Corporation, is forming a private firm with businessmen Robert A. Mueller and Lance Erickson. The firm, Corporate Financial Consultancy Group, will be run out of an office on 202 Madison Avenue, and will primarily be a financial consultancy firm.

Mr. Marstein is credited with building Pittsburg head-quartered Alexander Steel to a level unprecedented in the industry. Their overall status in the industry rivals that of U.S. Steel. Alexander suffered only minimal losses in the stock market crash of 1929. Union officials say their stock has held steady for eight years due to strong-armed tactics that ex-employees of the company described as enforced slavery. Union official Jack Bryant was quoted as saying (continued page 43).

FROM FINANCIAL TIMES, April 1948

...in an unprecedented move, Rikon, the premier manufacturer of home radio equipment, announced today that they have retained Corporate Financial Consultancy Group of New York to manage the company’s finances and help move them to a more stable position after nearly declaring bankruptcy last June.

Corporate Financial Consultancy Group is one of the top Financial Services companies in New York and have assisted such firms as Sears Roebuck, Ford Motor Company, and Edison in various business dealings. Formed by the former president of Alexander Steel Corporation, Hubert Marstein, the firm’s top consultants will be on hand at Rikon’s Headquarters in Nashville, Tennessee to help oversee a revamped business plan that will attract (continued page 45).

EXCERPT FROM PRESIDENT’S message from the Employees Newsletter for the Automobile Club of Southern California

September, 1959

...I’d like to extend a warm thank you to Arthur Adkins and Jerry Sprecher of Corporate Financial Consultancy Group, who were instrumental in assisting in the development of the Club’s long-term business plan. As we approach the close of this decade we are working at putting all we have planned into action to ensure the next ten years are more successful, which will ensure increased profits, better service to our members, and richer rewards for our loyal employees.

LIST OF INDIVIDUALS and companies targeted by Weather Report, a radical anti-war group whose members were arrested at the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago and had been under investigation for over a year. It was later proved by the FBI that the group was planning to plant explosives in their buildings or outright assassinate key figures.

NBC News

General Motors

Former U.S. President Lyndon B. Johnson

Senator Barry Goldwater, Republican (Arizona)

The John Birch Society

Chevron

Amoco

General Electric

Kraft Foods

Senator John Glenn, Democrat, Ohio

Congressman Alfred A. Wellman, Republican, Florida

Reverend Billy Graham

Elvis Presley

Aetna

Prudential Life Insurance

Firestone

United Airlines

John Wayne

Merle Haggard

Corporate Financial Consultancy Group

The Walt Disney Corporation

JUNE 5, 1974 – Mt. St. Helena, CA.

The naked man knelt before the altar.

The altar was comprised of heavy stone, imported from Wales. Hanging above the altar, fastened securely to the wall, was a gold crucifix, displayed upside down.

Directly behind the man, scrawled on the floor in blue chalk, was a large pentagram.

Black candles were placed strategically along the five points of the star and were lit.

The naked man was prostrate before the cross, eyes closed, arms raised in supplication. His lips moved, the Latin coming to him effortlessly, by memory.

In time, he rose to his feet and stepped back into the confines of the pentagram. Then, he sat down cross-legged and waited.

Outside, the sun slipped behind the peaks of the mountains, casting brilliant shafts of sunlight through the large plate glass windows that lined the west side of the house. The man had the house custom built six years ago and rarely had guests. Occasionally he brought a lover up to his lofty abode but he never let anybody set foot in this room. His ritual chamber.

The smoke from the candles rose, their scent intoxicating. The man remained sitting on the floor cross-legged, eyes closed, waiting.

And after a moment, it came.

NOVEMBER 4, 1989

Atlanta, GA

It was one of those days when Lori Masterton had to drag herself out of bed in order to hit the highway to be at work on time for her job at Corporate Financial in downtown Atlanta.

When she arrived at the office and was informed by her boss, Oliver Hyman, that her department was going to accompany him and his entire team of consultants to a meeting across town with their latest client, Automated Technical Corporation, Lori put on her best false face and gathered her things. Whatever. She had shit to do today and if her numbfuck of a boss wanted to waste it by having her sit in on a meeting she wasn’t going to get anything out of, that was his business. She was still getting paid.

Lori drove to the client company’s building with her co-worker Ken Miller. Their third cohort, Linda Alvarez, had called in sick. Wonder what this is about? Ken yawned over his cup of Starbucks.

Who knows? Lori said. All she cared about was running the graphics pit for the company; it was what she was hired to do, and she liked it. It kept her out of the bullshit Oliver’s consultants did, which was consult and advise their clients on how to run their businesses and save money.

When they arrived at the building and were ushered into the conference room, Lori grabbed some coffee. Oliver was already there with his staff—the best and brightest MBAs he could bribe fresh out of business school. They were all dressed impeccably and conferred with each other, occasionally talking and laughing. The people Lori didn’t recognize were obviously the financial echelons of Automated Technical who requested this session. Lori opened her spiral pad notebook, sat back, and waited to be bored out of her skull as Oliver rose to his feet and set the meeting to order.

She was bored quickly. She sipped coffee, doodled in her note-pad, and ignored the rest of her Corporate Financial co-workers who also feigned interest. Oliver went on his spiel about how they—Corporate Financial—were going to save Automated Technical a ton of money. He droned on in his Wall Street spiel about P&E this, earnings ratio that, and after awhile his voice became a low drone in Lori’s consciousness. She looked around the room. It looked like even some of Oliver’s MBA stars were glazing over, and then she was shaken to rude awakeness when she heard Oliver say, ...recommend you stop insuring the last year of life.

The numbness was gone. The boredom was gone. Lori looked around the room, wondering if she’d heard that correctly. One of the things Automated Technical wanted advice on was their self-insured medical plan for their employees. She looked down at her notepad, which contained no notes. She caught the gaze of Naomi Walker, one of the newer MBA consultants, who was fresh out of the University of Chicago. She looked just as confused as Lori felt.

Oliver stopped mid-spiel. Is there something I missed?

Lori didn’t know what to say, and judging by the stunned looks on everybody’s faces, it appeared everybody was showing the same collective disbelief at what Oliver had said a moment ago.

Let me clarify what I said, Oliver said. He had been pacing in front of the white board and Lori saw he’d written recommendations in red marker. Corporate Financial’s recommendation on saving money on your self-insured Health Care Insurance for your employees is that you stop insuring people during the last year of their life.

There were several gasps in the room. Lori’s was one of them.

Wide eyes directed their stunned attention at Oliver.

Well, as you know, most medical expenses are incurred during the last year of life, Oliver explained. They’re also the most expensive. He said this as if it was the most normal and logical thing to say and that they were being obtuse for needing it explained further.

Lori could only think, I can’t believe I’m hearing this. The company that I and everyone else around me works for has just recommended to their client, who has a self-insured plan for their employees health insurance, to stop insuring people during the last year of their lives because that’s when they need the most care, and if they want to save some money well, they should just stop it right now!

Did I just hear that right?

Lori could tell she wasn’t the only Corporate Financial employee thinking this. The vibe she got from Ken, from Naomi, from Jack Snow and Herb Willis and Candace Baker appeared to mirror her own.

Oliver took a step or two back. He blinked; he looked totally confused by the reaction.

What if the insured is an infant? This from Naomi Miller, her voice puzzled. A baby, under one year of age? I don’t understand.

That would be the last year of its life then, Oliver said.

Luke Farris, the VP of Automated Technical, who invited Corporate Financial to help brainstorm methods on how the consultant group might be able to help save his company, appeared shaken. That’s very interesting. What other methods would you recommend?

And with that the subject was changed and Oliver continued his spiel, but by now Lori had had it with her boss. Judging by the climate among her co-workers—most of them, at least—they’d had it with him, too. She didn’t even attempt to take notes at the meeting, and when she and Ken drove back to the office she vented her fury. What kind of fuckwad would recommend such shit? I can’t believe it!

As for Naomi Miller, the consultant who’d questioned Oliver at the meeting, that was the last time Lori saw her. She later heard Oliver fired Naomi that afternoon.

Lori herself was fired two weeks later. Her dismissal came as a relief. She had been wanting to quit ever since that meeting with Automated Technical. Prior to that meeting, which she was sure she’d remember for the rest of her life, things had been okay at Corporate Financial. It had its good side and its bad side, and Oliver could be a real corporate pain in the ass, but for the most part it was okay.

Not anymore.

Things started changing after the meeting. In fact, it probably happened prior to the meeting, with Oliver, because shortly after the meeting one of the other consultants, Jack Snow, started behaving differently. Lori could never put her finger on what it was that made the vibe at work so different now, and she was glad to be rid of it when Oliver let her go.

Good riddance.

JUNE 2, 1995

Calistoga, California

Of all the companies Kyle Bauer visited on his daily UPS runs, the National Headquarters of Corporate Financial was the most impressive.

It also gave him the creeps.

It was a warm, sunny day when Kyle pulled his brown paneled van up to the front entrance. Ninety percent of his deliveries were made at the rear of the building, near the company warehouse. Kyle had never paid much attention to the building or the people until recently, when his boss told him that the executives of the firm made a recent request that certain packages addressed to them were to be delivered to security in the front lobby. The executives in question received packages every few days, and when Kyle walked through the thick double glass doors of the lobby to security he immediately got a whiff of the ambience of the place. It was corporate, sterile, very polished, just like all the other corporate lobbies of the other companies he made his UPS deliveries too. The people who worked in the offices looked similar, too; they looked dressed for the part in business suits and skirts, hair neatly groomed. Corporate American worker bees were indistinguishable everywhere.

But this place was different.

Kyle gathered three packages, one of them for Frank Marstein, CEO of Corporate Financial. Mr. Marstein had been getting a lot of these flat packages lately. Probably some kind of weekly financial reports. Kyle gathered the packages and his clipboard and walked to the lobby.

He ignored the feeling he got as he made his way across the lobby and headed to security. A guy in a blue three piece suit glanced at him briefly as he walked in, momentarily torn away from The Wall Street Journal, and then resumed his reading. Kyle set the packages on the security desk and waited for the guard to approach.

The security guard was a balding guy in his forties dressed in a navy blue suit. His ramrod posture suggested former military. He looked at Kyle, his features bland. Can I help you?

Kyle felt a trickle of unease. This security guard asked him the same thing every time he came in for a delivery. Either he was incredibly stupid or he had no short-term memory. Kyle said, UPS delivery.

The guard looked at each package, noted the addressee, nodded and looked at Kyle. Very good, he said. Thank you.

Don’t mention it.

Can you sign in, please? The guard indicated a sign-in log at the desk for business visitors.

They went through this every time Kyle was here. Usually Kyle just signed the damn log book, but this time he hesitated. Don’t you think it’s a waste? I mean, I’m here less than a minute. I sign my name, and the arrival and departure time I put in are the same. Besides, I’m leaving now. Why—

Company policy, The guard said. His features remained bland. He looked at Kyle, no change in his expression. No sign of annoyance, or displeasure, or anger or even humor at the absurdity of the policy. Just blank indifference.

Kyle sighed and signed the log book quickly, scrawling the times, then set the pen down. Have a good day, he said as he walked away.

The security guard nodded and remained at his post, watching while Kyle Bauer walked through the lobby toward the exit.

And as he left he couldn’t help but think that everybody he passed—the businessman reading The Wall Street Journal, the businessmen talking in a little group at the exit, the smartly dressed businesswoman passing him as she entered the building, the groups of people gathered outside talking, were secretly watching him. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way. He got this feeling every time he set foot in the Corporate area of Corporate Financial. It was very slick, very...corporate. No, that was the wrong word. He’d made deliveries at corporate offices before, some just as high-level and polished and slick as this place. The atmosphere at this place was different. It was hard to describe, but it felt...

Well, creepy.

Kyle Bauer exited the lobby and made his way to his van, trying not to give the impression he was fleeing, but he couldn’t help it. It felt like the people he passed were watching him secretively, that the people working in the offices were watching him, that the people who had work stations by the windows that looked out over the parking lot were watching him, but he knew that was insane. He’d looked up at the building numerous times on his way in and out of the building and everything looked normal. People hadn’t been looking at him, peering at him as he left the building. Still, he got the feeling every time he left the lobby and he also felt something else, something that was of a greater magnitude.

He felt there was a greater presence somewhere in the building watching his every move.

Kyle slid behind the wheel of the van and started the engine. He pulled away from the curb, trying to stay calm as he headed out of the parking lot. The feeling that he was being watched persisted the entire time he was on Corporate Financial Consultancy property and it didn’t diminish until he was heading to his next stop. In fact, the minute he made a right turn onto the main road into town, the feeling stopped, as if a door had been suddenly slammed shut behind him. Kyle felt it instantly in his gut, knew that he was somehow safe, and as he headed to his next stop he told himself that when he got back to the distribution center he was going to put in a request for a route change.

CHAPTER ONE

MICHELLE DOWLING KNEW she’d aced the interview and that the job was hers the minute Sam Greenburg gave her a smile that suggested his recruitment efforts were over. In my position it’s not every day I come across somebody with a resume quite like yours.

Really? Michelle made no effort to draw him out. She sat in the chair in front of his desk, her posture perfect, right leg crossed over her left, dressed impeccably in a blue power suit. It was her second interview with Sam and she’d dressed just as professionally for the first. Had put on the same performance as well: she’d said all the right things, answered all his questions concisely, never pausing to elaborate or going off on an unrelated anecdote, asked all the right questions about the company and what the position would entail. She never used her sexuality to give her an edge, either. She dressed well, she was attractive, let her demeanor carry her through. That was her philosophy. It worked every time.

Absolutely, Sam said. He picked up her resume again, running through it. It’s a nice solid mix of Business Intelligence, Information Technology, and computer graphics. It’s exactly what we’re looking for.

Michelle tried to suppress the smile that threatened to burst across her face. I’m glad to hear that.

Sam Greenburg regarded her from across his large glass desktop. Tell me something about your stint at Kaiser. You indicate you produced financial reports with Crystal. Did those include cubed reports?

Yes.

Sam nodded, flipping through the resume. He was wearing a dark gray suit and his salt and pepper hair and goatee gave him more the appearance of a college professor than a corporate consultant. And the sample you include here, he said, pausing from looking at the resume to pluck a copy of a sample report Michelle had in her portfolio which she’d delivered to Sam two weeks ago during her first interview. The sample report consisted of fifty pages of text, bar graphs and flow charts. All professionally laid out and designed. It’s very impressive. Something like this usually requires the work of two, sometimes three people. Not to mention a technical writer.

I do some technical writing, too, Michelle said, stifling the urge to elaborate further. The excitement she was feeling as it became clear to her she was going to get the job eclipsed her common sense, but she quickly put an end to that.

Again, I’m very impressed. Sam put the report down on his desk and leaned forward, smiling. There’s just a few minor details that need to be worked out and then I think we can go forward. How does that sound?

Great, Michelle said.

You indicated last time we spoke that you would be available to start immediately. Does that still stand?

Absolutely, Michelle said. I’m mostly doing 1099 contract work now and am on an assignment that ends this Friday. I don’t have anything lined up beyond that, so I can start anytime after that.

Sam looked at his desk calendar. Would Monday, April 3 be a problem?

Not at all.

Sam looked satisfied. He stood up and Michelle rose from her seat. They shook hands over his cluttered desk. I’ll be in touch with you by Thursday. Friday at the latest.

Okay, Michelle said, so into the role of interviewee that it came natural to her. Thank you again for the opportunity to speak with you. As I said earlier, I’m very impressed by Corporate Financial Services and I’m very eager to be a part of your team.

The feeling is mutual, Ms. Dowling, Sam said, smiling. He motioned her to the door of his office and walked her out. As they walked down the hall past other offices and toward the bullpen of gray-walled cubicles, Sam said, Corporate Financial Services is a great company to work for. I think you’ll find our corporate culture, benefits package, and career opportunities beneficial to your overall life plan. People who come on board Corporate Financial tend to make it their life work and stay for a long time. We have a very high level of employee satisfaction here, Ms. Dowling. The highest in Pennsylvania, in fact. They reached the third floor lobby where the elevators were. Michelle pressed the down arrow button and Sam remained with her as she waited. We have a good group of people here.

Yes, you do, Michelle said, thinking about the technical team she’d met with during her first interview. The technical group was made up of men and women her age and older, and the team leader had been a jokester. She’d felt relaxed and at ease with them immediately.

And the commute won’t be too long for you, either, Sam said.

No, it won’t. I can get here through back roads.

The elevator dinged and Sam smiled as the doors opened and Michelle shook his hand a final time. Thank you again for the interview Mr. Greenberg.

I’ll be in touch, Sam said as she stepped into the elevator.

As she rode the elevator to the lobby, Michelle let out a sigh of relief. She felt tingly; giddy.

I’ve got it, she thought.

She’d hoped she would get the job the minute she finished the first interview. In a way it was a dream job because it would allow her to focus on her strengths—computer graphic design and technical writing. The financial reporting via Crystal Reports would be a minor hindrance, but only to the extent that she didn’t get a particular joy out of that type of work. She could do it, was very good at it in fact. But she held no overwhelming interest or passion for it. The other two portions of the job she could do in her sleep.

The official title for the job was Business Intelligence Design Architect. Whatever the hell that meant. The official job description, without all the corporate mega-speak, was that they wanted somebody who would be able to design and create financial reports using Crystal Reports (this, in itself, required knowledge of relational databases, most likely Oracle or SQL); compose technical documentation to go with the financial reports and gear it toward a wide variety of people; and create, design, and publish eye-catching manuals and web publications. Basically she’d be the back end support for the main Business Intelligence designers and sales people. The company itself was a financial and business consultant firm who assisted their clients—most of them large corporations like Wal-Mart, Microsoft, Prudential and other powerhouse firms—in maintaining their bottom line and running a cleaner, tighter ship. There would be some travel required, but she was used to that. They were looking for somebody with experience and skills in all of the main things the job required, as well as a Bachelor’s Degree in Business, Accounting, Finance, Computer Science, or five years of related experience. She lacked a degree, but had more experience and knowledge than most college graduates. Plus, she’d spent the better part of a decade at jobs that required Bachelor’s or Master’s degrees as a minimum requirement and had excelled in all of them.

And she knew from that first interview that Sam Greenberg was not only impressed by her credentials, he was impressed with her. Of course, she had pulled out all the stops in her performance; she’d asked the right questions, had put forth how interested she was in the position and the company, emphasized that she lived for her work, that it defined her, and she could tell he was sold. Reeling him in had been easy.

The elevator deposited her on the ground floor of the building and she exited, making her way to the security booth in the lobby. She stopped and found her name in the guestbook and signed out. The African-American guard behind the booth looked bored. Michelle set the pen down and smiled at him. Have a nice day, she said.

The guard nodded, still bored, and Michelle headed outside.

Downtown Lancaster was busy as always. As she made her way to the parking garage where she’d left her car, she tried to tell herself to not get her hopes up too much. Things could still back-fire. Sam, or somebody else above him, could change their mind about the position. There could be somebody else competing for the job that Sam might choose over her. There were a number of possibilities at play that might derail things.

But she