We travel back now to present day Tessa—no longer the small child just learning about her role and the great powers at her fingertips—she has grown into a young woman who is very aware of the forces of nature that make up all things. We find her in a familiar place in a large house on top of a tall hill staring again into a crystal shard. She slides her index finger down its surface and stares into its depths. Abbey Downs is not a charming haven with no secrets but a place where darkness lies in waiting... to corrupt, to destroy. Tessa's family has lived in Abbey Downs for a very long time. They are the gate keepers. Tessa is the latest to receive the keys to the kingdom and she may very well be the last. Their bloodline has grown thin and the balance has shifted. An image of Evan Thomas appears in the shard once more. The image of him slowly fades and in its place is only darkness.
1
Evan Thomas was sitting at the drive-thru McDonalds waiting for his order when the darkness came. His eyes were closed at the time as he waited patiently for his McDouble and fries. There was a sudden increase in white noise, the faint smell of ozone, and then utter darkness. When Evan opened his eyes and still did not see he had a moment of panic. Slowly as the darkness dissipated he assumed he'd had a minor dizzy spell or something. He hadn't slept well since the funeral and chalked it up to fatigue. That's when the car behind him struck his bumper. It wasn't a hard hit. The drive-thru was on a slope and it was as if the driver simply forgot to apply full pressure to the brake pedal.
He looked in his rearview mirror and noticed the car behind him was empty. He looked right to see if the driver was approaching, wondering why they didn't just wait for him to pull into one of the parking spots that was open so that they both could get out of the way. Nobody was there. He looked into the drive-thru window to see if his order was up but it was unmanned. The automatic soda machine was full of cups waiting for lids and something was beeping in the kitchen. He looked around again but the driver of the car behind him was still nowhere to be found. He put his own car in park just as a white box truck from the main road jumped the curb and slammed into the golden arches sign. "Shit!" He tried opening his door but it slammed into the brick wall of the drive-thru. He crawled across to the passenger side door and got out. There was a large explosion far off in the distance followed by a bloom of fire and smoke. When nobody appeared to be helping he ran to the box truck to make sure the driver was okay but it was driverless.
Returning to the drive-thru he looked through the passenger side window of the car that had struck his and saw a plaid shirt atop a white pair of wrinkled linen pants. In the well were two tan flip flops. Evan didn't know what was going on but judging by the size of the clothes he knew that some fat guy was walking around out here naked. He ran back to the drive-thru window and peered in, "Someone call an ambulance!" Another pile of clothes, a shattered phone, and his McDouble sat in a heap on the floor. "Hello?"
His mind reeled. Another car was creeping towards the box truck now very slowly and it too was driverless. Images of zombie apocalypses, monsters, alien invasions, pinprick black holes, the rapture, even that episode of Sliders where an alternate Quinn Mallory mistakenly slid the entire planet instead of himself flashed through his minds eye all in a jumble.
Evan pulled his smart phone from his pocket swiping this way and that through various APPs but no Earth shattering news, notifications, or posts were waiting for him. Next he dialed 911 but it just rang and rang, not even an auto-responder message. What's going on, Evan?" asked the generic Facebook status interface. I think I'm hallucinating. He typed and hit send. He remembered how the cell networks were brought to their knees on 9-11 when everyone took to their phones at once—Then again when that earthquake struck the East Coast in 2011.
"Hello!" he shouted. There was no answer. There were no cries in the streets, no screaming, no shouting, no sirens. Nothing. He jumped back in his car and began driving home. He came upon a red light and habitually slowed to a stop until it turned green signaling it was okay to drive again. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening in his neighborhood except a self-propelled lawnmower that was making its way up the street in front of him. He bypassed the mower and parked in his driveway.
He immediately went to the living room and turned the TV to CNN. The video display showed the CNN studio in its normal HD clarity only there were no news anchors. He switched to another channel but saw only the floor of the studio in this feed, "What the hell is going on."
Earlier...
Evan sat in the darkness of his Mother's living room gripping a SIG P220 pistol in his right hand. He cocked the hammer even though it was an automatic and pulled the trigger. Click. He'd been sitting in the living room all afternoon performing the same motions over and over and over. Now the sun had set and he still hadn't bothered to turn on the lights. The rain had finally stopped but he was still damp from the funeral.
He'd found the pistol in his Mother's closet when he put away the small container the Police had given him with the rest of her personal effects inside. All that remained in the container was a red jeweled ring, her purse, clothes, and the note. In his left hand he was passing the ring back and forth across the knuckle of his index finger. Click. The note had read simply 'til we meet again. Evan wasn't quite sure what to think of that. Happy trails to you? It wasn't even in her handwriting, he noticed, and it was a small torn piece of paper possibly from a letter or a larger note at least.
Evan had spoken to her earlier in the week and she had sounded normal. Happy even. They were going to have dinner tonight and catch up. He hadn't seen her much since he started working again. Instead he sat alone in her house just having returned from her funeral. They'd found her body sprawled at the base of a water tower, the note still in her grip. And that was that. That's all she wrote. Well, all someone wrote anyway. Evan was now an adult orphan. Click.
His father had died when he was just a kid in an event no less mysterious and tragic. A fire had broken out where he worked. He was trying to save something. Evan seemed to recall it was a library or something along those lines... but he wasn't sure anymore. That event had triggered their move to Maryland just over twenty years ago. He barely remembered what he looked like but his Mother always assured him he need simply to look into a mirror. That always made him smile when he was younger. Click.
Evan stood and instead of turning on the lights he locked up the house and got in his car. He placed the SIG P220 in his glove compartment and drove home. At the time, he had never felt more alone.
. . .
Evan stared at the TV a moment longer. He'd switched to the weather channel. It was on a loop that normally changed from satellite views of weather to a live feed of the weatherman. Instead now it was switching between satellite views and another empty studio. He flipped through the program guide looking for any live feed he could find. He switched to ESPN and relaxed for a moment when he saw two MLB analysts discussing the Orioles until he saw the words pre-recorded in the corner. The screen flickered back to yet another empty studio with a skewed camera angle.
He left the TV and went to his laptop. He loaded up CNN.com. The header stated that the page was last updated at 1:06pm EST. The current headline was Times Change, So Must We—an article criticizing progress towards new policies set forth at the Presidents inaugural address back in January. The CNN website was typically within minutes of the current time during a normal day being constantly updated with breaking news as well as new insights on popular subjects all over the world. On this mid-afternoon weekday it was already an hour behind.
He jumped to his Facebook Newsfeed with a single click. The most recent post, besides his own, was also over an hour old. He checked a few more websites and message boards with similar results. It's as if everything just sort of stopped at once. Evan ran to the front door and locked it. He quickly drew the curtains and checked the locks on his windows and the patio door as well. Grabbing his smart phone he headed upstairs to his bedroom. He lay down on his bed and with a s
ingle finger on one of the blades of his vinyl blinds, peered out the window looking for any signs of life. A squirrel flitted across the branch of a tree near the window then scurried up the trunk. He didn't see any of his neighbors and more importantly he didn't see any monsters trudging up the road either. The squirrel was alive so he guessed that meant the air wasn't infected with some chemical released by the nuclear power plant. The sky was clear and blue. Maybe there was an evacuation? he thought to himself.
Evan unlocked his phone and dialed up one of his co-workers. He got voicemail. He called his boss with the same results. Desperate, he called the helpdesk for the HR system his office used knowing it was manned 24/7 out of India. After navigating the automated system of press 1 for and press 7 for's he was finally on his way to a live person. Again the phone just rang.
He lay there a moment staring at his ceiling. If there were monsters or zombies or some other danger out there he certainly didn't want to leave his house. Of course if he were going to stay put maybe he should go stock up on supplies first. These and many more thoughts ran through his mind all in the span of five minutes. Evan went back downstairs and sat on the couch. He switched to the Phillies v. Marlins game, a last attempt at live footage and was less surprised but still amazed to see a skewed view of an empty stadium. On the field were empty baseball uniforms scattered around, "What the hell happened."
Not wanting to sit idle or maybe not wanting that feeling of panic to seep in again, he made his way to the garage and got in his car. As he reached the end of his driveway he noticed another set of clothes. A small purple dress and a single white sock in his neighbor’s yard. Their front door was also open. He put his car in park and jogged over to the house, "Hello? Maggie?" No answer.
He returned to his car and drove to the grocery store. He drove past the McDonalds and noticed the car that had hit his bumper earlier was now almost to the white box truck, stopped only by the curb, the engine still running. He noticed more of the same as he passed the restaurant and made his way to the grocery store. Cars stopped in the middle of the road but still running. A few accidents and occasionally a shirt or a pair of underwear blowing across the street like tumbleweed.
In the shopping center parking lot there was only one accident. A car coming down from the highway apparently kept going and stopped when it crashed into the glass window of the bank in the middle of the lot. It was strange seeing such things not be surrounded by people. The cars radio was still on but it was just white noise. While most radio stations were automated, DJ's still interacted with switches when they were talking before and after songs or commercial breaks. This station operator must have been talking when the blackout happened he guessed.
He edged into one of the handicap spaces but didn't park. Not yet. He sat there for a full minute staring into his rearview and side mirrors then again out through the windshield looking for any signs of movement, any signs of life. Again there was nothing. He shut off the engine and got out. A large white spatter covered the lot behind a mini-van, an exploded gallon of milk that had hit the asphalt when its carrier magically disappeared no doubt. The trunk of the van was still open and a cart full of bagged groceries had made its way back towards the store.
Just in front of the automatic doors was a stray apron. On top of it he noticed something glinting in the sunlight. It was a dental retainer. For whatever reason this sight prompted a feeling of fight or flight in Evan. He quickly ran back to his car and retrieved the pistol from his glove compartment. As he reentered the grocery store he did so cautiously, pistol gripped in the pocket of his sport coat like some 50's gangster. As he turned the corner he saw an old woman standing there smiling at him, he stifled a scream and nearly fell on his ass in surprise.
"God DAMN it," he said to himself as he realized it was just a large cardboard cutout of some lady that won one of those reality cooking shows holding a plate of cookies advertising her new line that started in January, "fuck." There was the sound of a few conveyor belts moving groceries for bagging. A puddle of Ragu and shattered glass lay congealing on the floor where one belt forced an overflow. Evan jumped out of his skin again when the automatic checkout computer reiterated to nobody in particular that the contents in the bag did not match the weight of the item scanned.
He started to second guess his decision to come at all but then began to relax again. Fact of the matter was that he was alone. There wasn't some creature waiting to consume him in the frozen goods section or a horde of zombies in the baked goods area. There were, on the other hand, hot pockets and ho-ho's. He grabbed a few of each but tried to stay practical. He grabbed a manual can opener, a ton of canned goods, a basketful of beef jerky, bottled water, and all the multi-vitamins they had on the shelf. They even had an entire rack of first-aid kits so he grabbed a few of those as well. The cart was heavy and became difficult to push near the end but push it he did. Straight out the front door waving as he went to the security cameras.
He began to unload the goods into the trunk of his car when he noticed smoke was pouring out of the drive-thru window at the KFC across the street. His instincts were already adapting to the circumstances. Instead of running to help or calling out or picking up his phone to call the fire department his thoughts went straight to fleeing. Who knew how long before a fire, probably a grease fire no less, would begin to spread. And with no emergency services to put it out, maybe holing up in his house wasn't the best idea after all.
He checked the gas gauge and eyed the station across the street. He'd have to maneuver through a several car pileup to fill up but if he was going anywhere he'd need to fill up. Evan wasn't even sure where to go. He didn't really have any friends or family left to check up on. As far as he knew, for whatever reason, he appeared to be the last man on Earth. Should he try and figure out what happened? Or how wide spread it was? Or if it could be reversed? Was that his responsibility now? He stared at the pile of snickers bars on his passenger seat and felt a little guilty. When he looked up he also saw one of those new hybrid SUV's sitting a few spots up—the keys still sticking out of the door.
. . .
Evan pulled his newly acquired Toyota Highlander into his garage. He left all the groceries in the back intending on grabbing some clothes and a few personal items before heading... somewhere. He packed his clothes, some toiletries, a pack of plastic 1 gallon zip lock bags just in case (just in case of what he wasn't sure yet). Not being much of a survivalist he didn't have anything like a wind up lantern or solar battery packs or anything like that but they did cross his mind. He also didn't have any weapons. Even the pistol in his pocket was pretty useless since he didn't have any ammo. Hell he wasn't even sure where to buy ammo.
He didn't winterize the house or shut the power off figuring such things just didn't matter anymore but he didn't see any reason to leave the TV on. As he picked up the remote to shut it off he noticed something. The TV was still showing footage of the empty stadium in Philadelphia. Only now the jumbotron wasn't showing player statistics or txt to vote for your favorite player ads. It said in large letters from top to bottom, WTF?
"Nice." Evan sat down and stared at the screen. The screen changed to the empty field again. A moment later it flashed to the empty stands and was several more minutes before the jumbotron was in view again. This time his heart skipped a beat. As if someone were erasing characters from a command prompt he watched the ? F T W leave the screen one at a time and in its place appeared L E O I S A T O S S E R. Paranoia began to seep in. Had he gone crazy? Did he just steal groceries AND an SUV? Maybe this wasn't as widespread as the entire world. Or maybe this was just an elaborate prank programmed by some bored employee of the stadium to appear only during off hours. He'd been known to insert trick code into his own programs from time to time. In a way it was like a signature. Or was someone alive and well in Philadelphia just as alone as he was? "Damn it, man, put your phone number or something up!" but they did not... would not. The Leo is a tosser message stayed put and not
hing else changed for a full ten minutes.
Evan eventually stood up, put his bags into the Highlander and drove away from his house. The house he'd worked so hard throughout his twenties to earn. Thinking that such things mattered but knowing that they really didn't, especially now. Before heading out of town he checked Facebook and CNN again on his phone but again nothing had changed. He set his GPS for Philadelphia, Citizens Bank Park specifically, and ticked off the options to avoid highways and tolls knowing there was bound to be barricades of crashed vehicles all along the highways across the country. Luckily the blackout happened mid-afternoon on a business day. There'd be traffic but not all that much... at least on the east coast. He stopped at the edge of his neighborhood. The GPS announced a left turn and he listened, uncertain whether heading to the city was the right decision or not, but happy just the same to have a heading... and a working GPS.
2
“I walked the avenue till my legs felt like stone,
I heard the voices of friends vanished and gone,
At night I could hear the blood in my veins,
Black and whispering as the rain,
On the streets of Philadelphia.”
- Bruce Springsteen
Roy “Doc” Holladay wiped the sweat from his brow then replaced his cap. He was making his fifteenth start of the year. He’d struck out four and walked two in fifty pitches so far in the season. He wound up, ready to strike. Marlins, Giancarlo Stanton, was at bat. Giancarlo had snuck a grand slam past Holladay just last year on this very field and by the look on his face he wasn’t about to let it happen again. The sun was glaring down on them at Citizens Bank Park in South Philly as he released the baseball. Leo watched from the stands as Giancarlo swung. CRACK. All eyes were on the ball as it flew high into the air as if it had wings.
The End Page 2