Book of Souls

Cassie Neville, the veteran 60 Minutes anchor, sailed down the corridor with a pack of assistants in tow. Although well into her sixties, after an hour in hair and makeup, she looked youthfully radiant, branded by her trademark steely eyes and pursed lips. Yet that night, she was frazzled by the time lines and the subject matter, and she blurted out her main concern to the network president. “Bill, do you think it’s wise to do this live? What if he’s a dud? We’ll be dead ducks.”

He replied, “Cassie, I’d like you to meet Will Piper. I’ve just spent some time with him, and I can assure you, he’s not a dud.”

Zeckendorf piped up, “I just want to remind you that I’ve instructed Will not to answer any questions about the murder of the Lipinskis and the circumstances of his being wounded. There’s an active criminal investigation that can’t be compromised.”

Nancy stepped aside when Cassie entered the room. The anchor went straight to Will’s bedside and stared into his eyes. “So, I’m told you’re not a dud.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things, ma’am, but that’s not one of them.”

“I haven’t been called ‘ma’am’ in a great many years. Are you from the South, Mr. Piper?”

“ Florida panhandle. Redneck Riviera.”

“Well, I’m pleased to meet you under these extraordinary circumstances. We go live in about ten minutes, so let’s get set up. I want you to relax and be yourself. I’ve been told this may be the most-watched interview in history. The world wants to hear this story. Are you ready, Mr. Piper?”

“Not until you call me Will.”

“Okay, Will, let’s do it.”

The director finger-counted down to one and pointed to Cassie, who looked up and started reading off the teleprompter. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I’m Cassie Neville and tonight 60 Minutes is bringing you a ground-breaking, exclusive interview, live from New York City, from the hospital bed of the man everyone has been talking about, to get his perspective on, what I sincerely believe, is the most extraordinary news story of our time: the revelation that a mysterious Library exists which predicts the births and deaths of every man, woman, and child on the planet.” She ad-libbed the next line. “Just saying that sends shivers down my spine. And further, that the US government has kept the knowledge of this Library a deep secret since 1947, hidden in Area 51 Nevada, where it is used for classified research purposes. And the man who has revealed this is with me today, a former FBI agent, Will Piper, who is not here in any official capacity, in fact, he was on the run and in hiding, a target of a government cover-up of the story. Well, he was on the run, but no longer. He’s here tonight, with me to tell you his incredible story. Good evening, Will.”

Cassie’s jitters began to fade a few minutes into the interview. Will was calm, articulate, and so plainly credible that she and the rest of the audience hung on every word. His blue eyes and big handsome face were utterly camera-ready. From her reaction shots, it was clear she was smitten.

The facts established, she wanted to see how he felt about the Library, as if he were an everyman, a surrogate for universal reaction.

“My brother, John, passed away last year very suddenly from an aneurysm,” Cassie said, a tear welling. “Someone knew about it, or could have known about this in advance?”

Will replied, “That’s my understanding, yes.”

“That makes me angry,” she said.

“I don’t blame you.”

“Do you think his family should have known, do you think he should have known?”

“That’s not for me to say. I’m not any kind of authority on morality, but it seems to me that if someone in the government has that information, it ought to be given to a person if they want it.”

“And what if they don’t want to know?”

“I wouldn’t force it on anyone.”

“Did you look yourself up?”

“I did,” he answered. “I’m good until at least 2027.”

“And what if you had found out that it was next week, or next month or next year instead?”

“I’m sure everyone would have a different reaction, but I think I’d take it in stride and live every day I had to the fullest. Who knows, maybe they’d be the best days of my life.”

She smiled at the answer, nodding in agreement, “Twenty twenty-seven. You said the books stop in 2027.”

“That’s correct. On February 9 of that year.”

“Why do they stop?”

“I’m not sure anyone knows.”

“There was some reference to an apocalyptic event.”

“I’m sure people need to look at that,” Will said evenly. “It’s pretty sketchy stuff, so I don’t think folks should get all bent out of shape.”

“Hopefully not. And you say that little is known about the people who produced these books.”

He shook his head. “They obviously possessed an extraordinary power. Beyond that, I couldn’t speculate. There’re going to be men and women a lot more qualified to give opinions than me. I’m just a retired federal agent.”

Neville set her famous jaw. “Are you a religious man?”

“I was brought up a Baptist but I’m not really religious.”

“Can I ask if you believe in God?”