“Yes,” Robby said, “perfectly safe. The story starts from the center. They’ve got a multi-pronged attack. This describes the center area, where they’d prepare the ground and then cover the whole thing with snow. In that area they purged the animals. I think that was supposed to include us. Then, outside the center area, they describe converting big patches to resources.”
“Resources?” Brad asked.
“Yeah, like an energy harvest area,” Robby said. “When the time comes, the resources will move to the center. I think this part mentions the liquid cleanup crew down south. Snow in the center, then a ring of corpses, then a ring of clear area.”
“Where are you getting all this?” Brad asked. “All I see is random symbols.”
“It’s not all in the shapes themselves, it’s the relationship of the symbols and their physical dimensions,” Robby said. “I don’t know if I could explain it.”
“So why are you showing it to me?” Brad asked.
“Because I still think you have information you’re not sharing. That information might be crucial to figuring this all out,” Robby said.
Brad let out a big sigh. “Still? What is it? Why do you think I have information?”
“You were there,” Robby said. “You were there in the middle of the deep snow, and you’re the only one to come out of there since Thanksgiving Day. Everyone else either fled that day or just disappeared. What did you see?”
“I’ll tell you about two more things, and that’s it. And I don’t care if you believe me or not,” Brad said.
Robby nodded.
“I didn’t tell you about the vines and the rock monster, and that’s it. Wait, well three things,” Brad said, “because I also had the casual government guys for a while. And the hole under the garage. Okay, let me start back with last summer.”
Brad started at the beginning and surprised himself with the amount of detail he recalled from months before. He told Robby all about his first walks when he discovered the vines, and then even backed up to tell him a little about the contract he’d been working on before the whole vine thing had started.
When he’d made it up to Herm showing up for the first time, Judy entered from the garage and took a seat. Brad started to greet her, but she motioned for him to keep talking. She smelled of cigarette smoke. Brad continued his tale and told them everything right up to the explosion from under the garage. Then he found himself repeating parts of the story they’d already heard. He trailed off.
Robby was looking at the counter, propping his head up in his hands.
Judy rose and fetched the three of them soda from the fridge.
Brad pulled the tab on his can and held it to his mouth before sipping. The carbonated bubbles felt good bursting on his upper lip. He drank and the soda tasted good—complete.
“Thank you for telling us that,” Judy said. “It must have been difficult to share.”
“It actually feels good,” Brad said. “But does it really help? Are you any closer to understanding the riddle of the end of the world?”
He directed this question to Robby, who still sat silent—focusing on the countertop.
“Robby?” Brad asked.
“He’s in his deep cycles,” Judy said. “It doesn’t happen often, but when it does you have to let him come out of it on his own.”
Brad raised his eyebrows and took another sip. The sugary soda was going straight to his head.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Portland, Maine - WINTER
ROBBY AND TED convened a meeting of all the people who lived within radio distance of Portland.
“I want to hear what the new people have to say,” said the smelly guy sitting next to Brad.
Brad couldn’t remember the smelly guy’s name, so he focused his attention on Ted, who stood over near the row of stools.
“I do too,” Ted said. “I’m sure we all do. But I believe it’s important for you all to hear what Rob has to say. He told me what he’s been thinking about, and I think we should all hear his ideas.”
“Facts first, then conclusions,” the smelly guy said.
“I agree,” Judy said. “Let’s hear from the new people.”
That startled Brad—he thought that Judy would automatically be on Robby’s side. Brad looked around the room. Most of the two-dozen people seemed to agree with Judy and Smelly.
“Fair enough,” Ted said. “Brad? You want to start us out?”
Brad scanned the room before he realized that Ted was talking about him.
“Oh, sure,” Brad said. He glanced at Robby and asked—“From the beginning?”
Ted said, “Yes,” and Robby nodded.
Brad started his story from the walk where he’d first seen the vines. A tickle started in the back of his throat when he told the people how he’d found the hole under his garage. The tickle turned into a cough as Brad told of the casually-dressed government guys and how he’d boarded up his house from the inside. His voice was overworked—virtually no use for months followed by days of non-stop talking took their toll. Brad stripped several details of his story near the end so he could finish and sit down.
“Thanks, Brad,” Ted said, rising to his feet again. “Who else? Frank, could you introduce us to the new person at your table?”
Brad followed Ted’s eyes to the guys sitting just beyond Smelly. Brad hadn’t met any of these people yet. When everyone arrived, Brad was busy with Robby and Judy in the kitchen, preparing pancakes for dinner. Now, the guy behind Smelly pushed back his chair and pushed himself up, not quite all the way to his feet. He wore a blue tank-top, camouflage pants, and serious black boots.
“This is Luke,” Frank said. He motioned to the man on his left. Frank started to sink back down in his chair and then rose up again. “He’s been traveling down south awhiles, and then he appeared up’ta my ranch last week.”
Luke cleared his throat. He looked like the template from which Frank had been cast. Like Frank, his head and face possessed no hair except a couple days of stubble. But Frank’s shave looked new—the skin of his scalp in the lantern-light glowed pink. Luke’s head glowed with a deep tan.
Luke didn’t stand. He pushed back his chair and relaxed down into the seat a bit before beginning his speech.
“Things are diff’rent down south,” Luke said. “Not like up here a’ tall. I mean further south than the eye poppers.” Luke hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Down there you got things that hunt.”
“From the beginning,” a woman said from the next table. A couple of people mumbled their agreement.
“Settle out, Tib, I’m gettin’ there,” Luke said. He took a deep breath through his nose, flaring his nostrils. “I didn’t actually see the begin, not like most folk. I had some time off work, so I headed out in the hills, tryin’ to get a deer. I live down-state Mare’land. Western edge.”
He folded his hands on top of his belly. Luke looked up at the ceiling. He seemed to be aware that everyone was looking at him, but he avoided locking eyes with them.
“I set out ’round three or four. Good and dark out there. No big towns around or nuthin’. No light pollution a’ tall. All I had was my gun, a six-pack, and the brightest goddamn spotlight you’ve ever seen, but I wasn’t using any of them at the time,” Luke said.
“I was just hiking in the dark. I got about half-aways up Brandette hill when I heard some rustlin’. Sounded like a buck thrashin’ his rack, marking out a spot, so I got down low. But the noise, it just kept getting louder and louder, like there wasn’t just one buck, but two or three or four, and they were having it out with each other. Pretty soon, thrashin’ turned into a pounding, like a stampede. That’s when I used my light,” Luke said.
“As soon as my eyeballs dialed in, I could see more than a dozen of ‘em, and they were barreling down the hill right at me. Usually when a big light hits them and they stop dead and just stare at me,” Luke said.