The Murton family, now with Frank, made for the West Virginia city of Parkersburg. It was the county seat of Wood County, the fourth largest city in the state, and had several bridges crossing over the Ohio River into the state of the same name. Once across, they would head towards Cincinnati and the supposed government presence there. Neither the Murtons nor Frank knew if any of the three factoids about Parkersburg that they knew still held true.
The drive was fairly quiet. The eerie absence of other motor vehicles continued—most people who knew better had gotten the hell out of the state, Issac had told Frank somewhat nervously. There was some small talk, but generally everyone held their peace, as if all the conversation at the Mountaineer Mart had taken too much out of them.
Then again, Frank knew, none of them had seen anyone other than themselves in several days. It was a little jarring to suddenly be presented with other human beings again.
The other reason the drive was quiet was the fact that the XM Radio and other devices on the dash had been forcibly ripped out. From the scratch marks, Frank thought the work had been frantic. Hasty. When Jessica had swapped out of the passenger seat so she could sit for a while with Andre, Frank's eyes had been drawn to the gaping wound on the dashboard. Issac had grimaced.
“We had to take it out. Can't trust radios, really—I mean, you know man, right? I don't have to go on talking about it. You know.”
He'd seemed very uncomfortable talking about it. Frank hadn't pressed him, even though he very much wanted to ask.
Yeah, I know. No, I have no idea! I have no idea whatsoever what happened, but I have to act like I do. God damnit.
It was only a hour and a half away on the roads, but it had been late in the day when they had departed Glenville, and night came quicker than anticipated. Was it actually winter? There wasn't any snow, but the leaves had turned and the temperatures were cold. In this half-light existence, it was hard for Frank to tell. When darkness fell upon the land, Issac turned the SUV off the road and they camped along the Hughes river, halfway to Parkersburg. It was better to approach cities and towns in daylight, Issac explained.
“People tend to just start shooting at night—civilians or not,” his wife Jessica added as she helped Andre curl up in his sleeping bag.
Frank had blinked back at her.
Oh. Great.
Once Andre had drifted off to sleep, the two adults talked to Frank about Pittsburgh.
He hadn't prompted them. The three had sat quietly together, finishing off a dinner that had consisted of dried fruit, some canned vegetables, Vienna sausages and something from one of Frank's MRE packs that they were mostly sure was a cracker. The fire was still high, and it made bizarre, twisting shadows on the trees that grew on the banks of the Hughes. Frank was glad of the fire. Not just for the warmth, but for the smell—woodsmoke smelled right, normal, and the crackle was reassuring. If he closed his eyes, it might just be camping back home.
Except for the feel of the Marlin rifle in his hands.
Swallowing a mouthful of lukewarm green beans, Issac suddenly started to talk.
“I'd just gotten off shift at Ampco. We'd been working hard, real hard getting a major order done. Someone needed heavy industrial ventilation fans, you know? I'd just gotten off shift, and I was walking through the plant, heading for the ext and the parking lot. I was tired, but excited. It was Tuesday! Jessica was going to make meatloaf.”
His wife favored him with a tired smile from her sleeping bag as Issac continued, the shotgun across his lap.
“I was halfway out and...Frank, it was so...strange. There was this voice. Came over the loudspeakers in the plant. Came from the radio that Mikey had at his station. Just...came from everywhere.”
Frank forced himself to have no reaction and simply let him keep talking. All this talk of the danger of technology from the leaflet and from Issac, and now this. This sounded uncomfortably familiar. He'd had rising suspicions as the trickle of evidence had started, but now Frank was going more sure by the second.
“It was...man, it wasn't a nice voice. Even if he sounded like he was wanting to help us, teach us something. Called us Chuck. Why that, I've wondered now and then. I guess it doesn't matter. You know, I don't even really remember most of what I heard that voice say. I just remember what happened next.”
The fire snapped and popped to itself. Frank watched Issac's face in its light.
“Everyone just...went completely nuts. I mean, I'm sure you know. Maybe seen it on TV, you know, when we still had it. Tearing at their faces. Throwing themselves into the machinery. Attacking each other. Mikey...Mikey Schmidt tried to stab me with a screwdriver. I'm a pretty big guy, Frank, and Mikey is...was...just this little sawed off bastard. But he almost got me. I beat him unconscious with my hard hat.”
The black man shrugged heavily, gesturing with one hand.
“I made it out. Got to my car. Some others of us did. I only thought of one thing. I had to find my family. I had to find Jessica and little Andre and get the hell out of Pittsburgh. There was...fighting, rioting in the streets. Smoke. I wouldn't have thought folks could start so many fires so fast, but they did. Saw a news helicopter just up and nosedive into a skyscraper. Like it wasn't an accident. I dunno how, but I made it to our house...”
He trailed off, looking tired just from reliving the memories. Jessica picked up where he left off, and Frank turned his gaze to her as Issac seemed to deflate.
“I worked from home, Frank. Did my own CPA work. Was nice to have my own dress code and make my own hours, heh-heh. A little bit after five I started hearing sirens. Lots of sirens. A lot of people moving fast north, away from Mount Lebanon, where we were at, towards Pittsburgh. Turned on the news...and well, saw it. My God, I was so scared for Issac. What was going on? I tried calling him, but I couldn't get through. Cell towers were overwhelmed, I guess. Like New York on Nine Eleven.”
Jessica scratched through her short hair, and shook her head.
“Gradually there started to be more and more traffic going past our house away from Pittsburgh. Even emergency vehicles. Everyone just wanted to be as far from Pittsburgh as they could, as fast as they could. Somehow my baby got home to us. We jumped in the Lincoln, and off we went. Didn't even know where we were trying to go; Issac could barely talk. It was just so awful. Just awful.”
“Eventually turned the radio on,” said Issac, seemingly able to speak about it again. “Hadn't torn it out. Not yet. That came later. Turned the radio on, and everyone was being told to head to various places. Depended on what direction you were going. Folks going south? Prosperity. No, really! We were told to head to Prosperity. Government managed to set up a little tent city there. FEMA, Homeland Security, I dunno. Saw some folks with jackets that read 'ONPSMI' on the back, whatever the fuck that means. Told us not to panic, told us we would just be there a little while.”
Issac leaned back, rolling out his shoulders, smirking.
“Wasn't a little while, was it?” Frank ventured, taking a hand off the Marlin to wave it in a vague fashion.
“No sir, no it wasn't. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. We had food and water, we had a place to sleep, but man, it got crowded real fast. We'd hear rumors. All...all kinds of rumors.”
“Stories that Pittsburgh was a warzone. That they'd built some kind of wall, and deployed the Army around it. That there were...monsters. Things with skin like...like those birds you see in those oil disasters off shore? Just...coated. And slick. And tentacles growing out of them.” Jessica stated, closing her eyes.
“Th' squid-heads,” murmured Frank, receiving nods in return. Things were coming together in his head now.
“Squid-heads,” agreed Issac. “Government reps would come through, tell us to ignore 'fanciful talk,' that it was just inspired by exhaustion and 'totally understandable' stress. God Almighty. Just stress.”
“Next I thought we'd hear swamp gas and weather balloons,” Jessica quipped wryly from her sleeping bag.
“Hah, yeah. Yeah. Frank, we were there six months. It's amazing what you get used to. No job, nothing to order the weeks, just eat-sleep-crap and the rumors. Andre held up the best of either of us, I think, bless him. Then...then one day we heard helicopters overhead. A lot of them, Frank. A lot. Not transports either. I never served, but I know what an Apache looks like from CNN. Troop columns went past Prosperity. And then we could see those helicopters firing. Just on the horizon, but we could just see it. We started to hear a new rumor. The wall had come down. And hell itself had come boiling out of Pittsburgh, and was coming for us.”
Just like Kaidan, Frank thought grimly. Just like fucking Kaidan.
“They moved us to Wheeling, then. Just packed us up on anything that could roll. We didn't know what was going on in the rest of the country. Was it this bad everywhere? Had the whole world gone insane? We just didn't know. And no one told us,” said Jessica, her eyes open again, and full of bitterness.
Issac nodded, staring into the fire. From where he sat, Frank could easily share the bitter feelings. Was the government keeping the truth from them that much different from the societies? 'For their own good,' of course.
“We kinda got settled there, then. Another tent city, but eventually we managed to get into some pre-fab housing. We even found work. Not as good as we had at home, but it was something. News told us Pittsburgh and the area around it was a 'national disaster zone,' and the government was dealing with it. There were other cities, though. All over. Other 'national disaster zones.' But we'd go home eventually. We just had to be patient.”
“All of us there felt like we were living under a boulder, perched on a cliff. At any time, that boulder might come rolling down and bury us. Everyone could feel it. Even if we didn't act like it, we felt it. My God, how could you not? Tanks rolling up and down the streets? Soldiers in the fields? They were tense, too. The only folks who weren't were those Morninglight people.”
At that word from Jessica, Frank's eyes narrowed. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn't stop and interrupt them. Here he wasn't a Templar operative, gathering intelligence. He was just another survivor, on the way to Cincinnati.
“There were more and more all the time,” Issac concurred, nodding as he opened up a bottled water next to him for a drink. “All the time,” he said again as he downed the water. “I always thought they were hokey, you know? Good Baptist, myself. But folks just started to buy what they were selling, and why not? Sure seemed like the end of the world, and I guess normal religion wasn't good enough now. And in groups, they'd get out of Wheeling. I don't know how, and I don't know where they went, but Morninglight folks would eventually leave.”
“We were there for three years. Then, one day, that voice...came back. It came back, Frank. And now it was coming from everything—radios, tablets, cell phones. We were visiting friends when it happened. And this time...this time the voice wanted to talk about the people keeping the truth from us. I thought he was going to talk about the government or something. But...he started talking about...secret societies.”
Frank was now studying his rifle intently as Jessica spoke. My God, just how much had happened in such a short time?
“He said he wanted us to understand. Know who was pulling our strings, dominating our lives. And then set us free. It sounds good when I say it, but not when the voice said it. He talked about...the Illuminati, the Templar, the Dragon. All sounded like tin foil nonsense, but...after everything that had happened...” She trailed off, looking over at Frank. Issac jumped in as Frank remained quiet.
“After all that, what could a guy really say was nuts and what wasn't? Oh, man, but we hadn't seen nuts. Not just yet.”
“As the voice finished, this...awful muck started oozing from every cell phone we could see. We'd gotten rid of ours. My goodness, I'd given Issac hell about that, but this time he knew better. Everyone the ooze touched changed. Just like those rumors we'd heard. They were all true. God have mercy, they were all true.”
“I don't even know how we got away,” said Issac wonderingly. “This Tahoe we have now? Not even ours. The previous owners...didn't have a need for it any more. We got out of there. Even the military guys were transforming. Little Andre, I don't know how he isn't all messed up inside. He just carried on. He was scared, you know? But he just carried on. Just like us. Damn. Anyway...we got maybe ten minutes out of Wheeling, and...honey, we thought it was the Second Coming, didn't we?”
Jessica nodded firmly.
“The sky just lit up. And the clouds were moving. So fast, Frank, so fast, I'm sure you remember. And then...and then we saw things in the clouds.”
“And we knew whatever it was, it wasn't the Second Coming,” growled Issac softly.
“Things winding in the clouds, coiling. Like tendrils,” whispered Jessica. Even know, this far removed from the event, Frank could see the fear in her dark eyes.
A tentacular sky.
“Drove off the road,” Issac hissed. “I felt...I felt like I was coming apart, from the inside out. Like something was going to just claw its way out of me. I think I was screaming. I think we all were.”
“Did it feel that way to you? Everyone we've met since remembers,” Jessica asked Frank, who gave a slight nod. At this point, he couldn't very well say no. What they were describing was the end he and many others had fought to prevent. And yet...here they were.
Issac spread his hands wide. “And then it just stopped. Like throwing a switch. Those...things...in the sky went away. And it was just over.”
“Just like that,” agreed Jessica. “Once we came to ourselves, Issac here tore out the radio and the rest. None of us wanted to hear that hateful voice again.”
“Since then it's been bumping from one huddle of survivors to the next. Sometimes there's government personnel, most times not. We been here a little too long now; the feds have all moved west. We knew Jessica had family this way. We didn't find any of them. Most folks we run into are, well. A little off. No offense, Frank.”
“None taken, Issac,” Frank chuckled without much humor. He supposed anyone left at this point was 'a little off'—including the Murtons.
“We really don't know what's gone on elsewhere, Frank. The rumors we get now are just jumbled and insane. New York City and London completely gone,” she began as Issac jumped in as well.
“Yeah, and D.C., nuked or something. Some place in Korea a crater too.”
“Seoul,” said Jessica helpfully. “Seoul, you always forget the name.”
“We hope Cincinnati is safe, but, my God Frank. At this point, is anywhere safe? Shit. Maybe this is the Tribulation. I guess maybe the Second Coming is still to come. Depends if you're pre-trib or post-trib I guess, heh.”
Frank yawned slightly into his hand, and Jessica clucked.
“Here we are, doing all the talking. Frank, I'm sorry.”
“Naw, s'all right ma'am. I'm okay jus' listenin' a bit.”
Listening and trying to absorb it all. The centers of power for the secret societies gone—as someone had seemingly woken a Dreamer, or all of them at once. It couldn't have been coincidence, none of this.
And yet...unless he was in the Dream of the Dreamers (in which case they were all supremely fucked but wouldn't even know or be able to do anything about it), someone had stopped the process. At the moment the world was to descend into madness and death under a tentacular sky, the process had stopped.
How? There was still so much he didn't know.
“I promise we'll let you tell your story next rest, Frank. Thanks for sharing your food with us for dinner.”
“Ain't no trouble at all, I swear--”
“Aren't you going to tell him about the superheroes?”
All three adults turned to regard Andre, whose curly haired head was poking out of his sleeping bag. Apparently he hadn't been asleep after all.
“Andre! How long have you been awake?”
The sleeping bag rustled as he shrugged.
“I dunno. I heard you telling stories. You should tell him about the superheroes, and how they saved us!”
Frank looked from Issac to Jessica. The mother smiled down at Andre.
“I'm sure Mister Frank has heard all about the Free Corps.”
“Ah, yeah, 'course...but Andre, how 'bout you tell me about 'em tomorrow?” The child smiled back at him.
“Okay, Mister Frank.”
Soon after that, people turned in for bed, with Issac taking watch, promising to wake Frank in four hours. Sleep was a long time coming to Frank.
There was so much to consider. What they described sure as hell sounded like John. John, the 'Black Signal,' with perhaps some new tricks. Madness and chaos across the country. The Morninglight, suddenly even more popular and everpresent. Further cataclysm, including the seeming destruction of London, New York and Seoul.
And what could only be described as the aborted waking of a Dreamer.
When sleep finally came to Frank, as he marveled at all that had transpired, how it was looking more and more likely that most of the people he knew were dead, he lay wondering.
Who, or what, was the Free Corps?
