Countdown to Oblivion – A Free Encounter Bonus Chapter

 The luxurious log cabin home that was nestled on an inland lake complete with its own boat house belonged to Marcel Cepeda. It was rumored to have been designed by the same architect that was responsible for an enormous luxury log cabin home which had previously belonged to a notable country singer down in Tennessee. The same construction crew had been contracted and it annoyed several of his wealthy neighbors while it was being built. Their equipment and the massive logs made driving the roads impassable at times. Cepeda was the CEO of a new social media and tech firm. His company’s IPO made him an overnight billionaire and instant celebrity. Money was no object after the news. A far cry from the startup struggles in his parent’s basement almost a decade earlier. He plugged in his Tesla Roadster to recharge in an underground garage before taking an elevator up to the top floor and the master bedroom. It had floor to ceiling glass windows with a breathtaking view of the water. Cepeda quickly changed because he wanted to get a quick ride in before retiring for the night. It was almost one o’clock in the morning. The Peloton screen came on, but something was off about its appearance. He checked the connections before rebooting it. Cepeda’s shoes were snapped into place on the pedals but instantly felt uncomfortable. They seemed like they were attached to giant magnets. This time, after a brief delay, a lone figure appeared. It wasn’t Chantelle from London who was his regular. The instructor that had kicked his ass almost every night for the last month. He loved being challenged. More oddly, they weren’t on a bike. It was the silhouette of a male seated on a folding chair. Cepeda smiled and laughed out loud. He remembered that it was only a few short days until his thirty-fifth birthday. It must be some outrageous prank conjured up by his executive team. The work culture of his company had always been intense. Cepeda pushed them mercilessly at times in pursuit of success. This was their way to repay him once again. They were notorious for the creative and devious ways in which his birthday had been celebrated in years past. It certainly wasn’t a cake and card office type environment. Cepeda thought they might have peaked last year. The FBI swatting of his penthouse apartment downtown the year prior impressed him. His executive team had gone to great lengths and expense. Paid actors were hired to serve as federal agents. The fucking windbreakers with yellow lettering even looked authentic. Laughter carried on into the night and into the early morning hours of his birthday celebration. It had been nothing more than playful reciprocation fostered by his leadership style. Cepeda’s patience grew thin while he waited for some type of a punchline. The seat underneath him was uncomfortable to begin with and wasn’t intended to be rested on. His pedals felt like they were pulling his bodyweight through the frame. “Get on with it.” he said half-jokingly. The figure looked to have some sort of device in his hands and tapped on its screen. Marcel Cepeda’s specially designed riding shoes tightened. “What the hell? Ease off a bit. My balls are starting to kill me here.” The man vanished and was replaced with a digital countdown that started at ten. It reached zero and Cepeda’s Peloton profile appeared. His shoes no longer felt heavy or like he was being dragged downward. The words came across on a banner. “Enjoy your ride.” It was followed by a deafening blast that propelled Marcel Cepeda through the expensive windows of his bedroom. The custom designed glass had nearly vaporized except for the micro shards that littered his carpet but were concealed deep within its fibers. Smoke billowed through a gaping hole in one of the most unique and luxurious homes on the water.