Nest

by Terry Goodkind

  “It’s like nuclear war in that once it starts, life as we know it will cease to exist. The power grid will be wiped out in the first microsecond. No electricity. Not anywhere. Elevators will stop. Traffic lights will go out. Streetlights will go dark. Refrigeration shuts down. Gas stations won’t work. ATMs won’t work. Cell service? Nonexistent. Landlines will be out. TV, radio? Gone. Stock exchanges will be fried. Banking will disintegrate under the load of attacks unleashed against them. Trillions of dollars will evaporate into cyberspace.

  “Air-traffic control will be wiped out. Hacked aircraft systems will fail. Planes will fall out of the sky like leaves dropping. Those crashing into cities will start massive fires. Hacked water systems will shut down. Pressure will fall. Without any form of communication, any fire and rescue will only be able to respond by seeing the fires, but they will have no water pressure to fight those fires.

  “Hospitals will lose power. Their backup generator systems have already been hacked and once the attack begins, all of their equipment will go dead.

  “Dams? All the sluice gates will open wide and in the darkness everything below the dams will be swept away.

  “Police dispatch? Gone.

  “How long do you think before the looting starts? One night? Two nights? The fires they start will burn for weeks.

  “There will be complete disruption of transportation, including food supplies. How long before all the store shelves are looted and empty?

  “The world we know will be gone. The night will be dead silent except for the sound of gunfire from roving gangs who will own the streets.

  “Policing will be crippled and evaporate in short order. Criminals and gangs will be the new warlords. The strongest will be in charge. Those who kill anyone in their way will be the new rulers. Men resisting the criminals and gangs will be slaughtered. Rape will be an epidemic. Women will become property. Slavery will be back in full force.

  “Killers and thugs will be in their element. Good people will be out of theirs.

  “With chaos running rampant and communications a thing of the past, there will be no civil authority left to restore any systems. A good many of the people who knew how to make things work will not survive long. All the systems that our lives depend on will likely never be brought back to life. Just like Rome falling, in an instant, our way of life will be gone. Our knowledge lost.

  “Foreign hackers in China, or Russia, or Iran, or some hacktivist haven will be grinning ear to ear.

  “That’s cyber winter.

  “Right now, all over the world, there are vast numbers of people working to bring this about. Hack routines are already in place and ready to be launched with a keystroke. Unlike a nuclear attack, this kind of attack would destroy us and leave them intact.

  “If Iran were ever to nuke Israel, we would likely turn the Mideast to glass. What will Russia do? What will China do? Do bombs start going in every direction, trying to kill before being killed? In that scenario life on earth would end.

  “That’s what everyone expects. That has been our fear for half a century, way back to ‘duck and cover.’ That has been the stuff of countless movies and books.

  “It’s mankind’s collective bogeyman.

  “That’s what everyone expects.

  “That’s why it will never happen.”

  Jack gestured at the computer screen again.

  “There is the extinction-level nesting event in process. Look at it—it respects no boundaries. It’s everywhere. The globe is its nest.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Jack waved his finger before the computer screen. “An infinitesimal fraction of one of those dots flying around in cyberspace is the photos of you uploaded by the predator who killed your brother and AJ’s family being viewed by killers as we speak. You are now targeted from inside that dark world. You are caught up in a nesting event that is growing by the day.

  “For you, the extinction-level event has already begun.”

  Kate sat in silence, overwhelmed by the enormity of it.

  “I’m just one person who can recognize a killer by his eyes,” she finally said, almost as if pleading for her life.

  “If the world doesn’t come totally apart—and it very well may not—then it will continue to limp along much as it has been, much like the world you grew up in, but getting gradually worse all the time, with criminals coming more and more to dominate our everyday life, with gangs growing, with terrorism spreading. Things will gradually get worse, but most people will be numb to it because the decay is so gradual they will hardly notice, too busy on social media expressing their hate and outrage at whatever has their attention for the moment.

  “That’s typically the way these great movements of history work.

  “But make no mistake, the world is in the slow process of descending into a new dark age. It will take a lot longer than our lifetimes to hit bottom, but every day of the rest of our lives will be just a little bit worse, a little bit more unfair, a little bit more dangerous, a little bit more unjust. That’s the inextricable movement of the pendulum.

  “Meanwhile, predators will continue to hunt you. You can’t change what the world is going to do; all you can do is live your life—if you want to live badly enough.

  “If you aren’t able to hide well enough, which I don’t believe you can, that means killing those who come after you. It means staying off the radar of the police and an increasingly invasive government in order to stay as safe as possible.

  “It means hopefully falling in love one day and sharing your life with someone. Maybe having kids. It means surviving and doing your best to enjoy the good things in life and raise a family. It means making the most of the world you were born into, the same way people have since the dawn of time.”

  “Except that I’m going to have to kill people if I want to live.”

  Jack gestured with his chin toward the door. “There are people going about their lives right now who are going to be murdered tonight. Perhaps by someone who kills them to steal twenty dollars. Perhaps by a hit-and-run drunk. Perhaps by a random bullet coming out of the night to blow their brains out.

  “The point is, people die every day. Yes, super-predators have made you a target, but we could walk to the car and be killed by a mindless crackhead. We could be killed in a car accident. You could have a brain aneurysm and die in your sleep tonight.”

  “Jeez, Jack, you really know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

  “I’m just saying don’t think of your life as unfair, or yourself as a victim. You can’t appeal to some higher court to get a different life. Your life is a glorious gift, as is your ability because it will help you spot danger a normal person wouldn’t see coming. Better yet, your ability could help save the lives of other innocent people. That’s a good thing.

  “It’s your life, so if you want to live it, then you have to do what you can to protect yourself and live to the fullest.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. Wear my seat belt and have a brain scan.”

  Jack smiled. “For you, it’s more complicated than that. But it’s still your wonderful, incredible, beautiful life. It’s the only one you get. Live it, Kate. Fight with everything you have to keep it.”

  Kate felt sick. “I know, but I feel kind of trapped in a corner, with no one to help me.”

  Jack lifted a hand as if to volunteer. “You have me to help you. I’m not going to let you face this alone unless you want me to. I’m the one person who understands all of this and knows what you’re up against.”

  “Thanks, Jack,” Kate said as she dug around in the bottom of the container for another piece of chicken. “And I guess that I’m better off than a woman living in the dark ages, under constant threat from marauding savages. In a way, I guess I’m better equipped to defend myself than those women ever were.”

  Or Rita was. Or AJ. Or John. Or even Mike.

  “So,” Jack said after eating in silence for a time, “that’s the central the
sis of A Long History of Evil, that people don’t primarily kill for territory, religion, mental illness, gangs, greed, sex, passion, or money, but because they have an inborn genetic mandate for killing, and those things are simply the external excuses—explanations that society attaches to acts of evil in an attempt to excuse it rather than crush it.

  “No one understands what underlies all of those reasons for murder. Rational, civilized people are locked in a never-ending struggle with an evil that sees killing as a means to an end.”

  “Does your editor know that this is what the second book is about?”

  “No. I’ve only given her vague hints to keep her interested. I haven’t told anyone but you the whole concept.”

  Kate ate a shrimp as she watched his face for a time.

  The connections were all becoming clear. She saw at last how girls on social media urging a more sensitive girl to kill herself were no different than a woman putting her baby down in its crib, strapping a bomb vest around herself, and walking into a crowded mall to murder as many people as she could.

  Murder was hardwired into both of them.

  They were all the same, all driven by their fundamental nature.

  “What’s behind all of the things that are happening to me?” Kate finally asked. “Why do people like me and super-predators seem to be encountering each other when the odds against that happening are so astronomical?”

  Jack let out a deep breath. “From my research, I’ve come to believe that what you can do is an indirect outgrowth of nesting. The incredibly complex mechanism of nesting, which has evolved over tens of thousands of years, has caused some people like you to develop in parallel with nesting events. You’re tied to them.”

  Kate made a face. “I’m just one person. Like you said, I can’t save the world.”

  “No, but think about it,” he said. “Two men who are part of the nesting event we are being drawn into died last night. You lived. Those two killers are dead. They died because you can see them for who and what they are. You drew them to you.”

  Kate raked her hair back. “Wait a minute, are you saying that I’m like a bad-guy magnet? That in the scheme of things I’m expected to be some kind of avenging angel—an angel of death?”

  Jack fixed her in a hard gaze. “It makes no difference to the world that Rita died. Fifty years from now, a hundred years, or a thousand years, no one will even remember that she once lived. Had she lived, her life would have only been one tiny star in all the darkness and then she would have passed and been forgotten anyway. It was up to her to appreciate her own life enough to fight for it, but she didn’t have what it takes to do that. A lot of good people don’t.

  “That’s just the way it is. We are part of mankind, we are part of history, we are each a part of what determines the direction the continuing evolution of mankind will take.

  “What matters for you to understand is that in times of nesting, for whatever reason, killers will more often cross the path of those like you, sometimes when you least expect it. Your choice is what to do about it.”

  “I don’t want to lose my life,” Kate said quietly into the ringing silence. “I want to live.”

  “Good. That’s where it starts and ends. That’s what matters. It’s all that matters.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-NINE

  “Since you want to live,” Jack said, “we need to talk about what to do next.”

  “Okay, what do I need to do?” Kate asked.

  “You need to get off the X.”

  Kate picked up her container of moo goo gai pan again and sat sideways on the couch, tucking her legs under herself. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “When you’re marked for death, and you’re standing on the spot where people are aiming, you are standing on the X. The best thing you can do to improve your odds of living is to get off the X.

  “When someone is shooting at you the most important thing you can do is move. If you stand still you’re going to get shot. Moving targets are a lot harder to hit. That’s getting off the X.”

  “Well, anyone would move if someone was shooting at them.”

  “No,” he said, “you would move, I would move, but more people today than you would think, wouldn’t. Or at least they wouldn’t move effectively. Willingly standing on the X is a phenomenon associated with nesting events.”

  “Seems hard to believe,” Kate said. “I think anyone would move.”

  “Really? Well, right now, the way you’re living, you’re standing right on the spot where the lunatics are aiming. It’s like you’re waiting for a killer to come get you.”

  “You mean you think I should move?”

  Jack took a bite of shrimp tempura. “That would help, but it’s really a bigger issue than that. Defending yourself is all well and good, but staying in a place where they’ve posted information on you, like where you work, your license plate number—all kinds of personal information—puts your whole life on the X.”

  He gestured with his fork. “Have you gotten any strange calls on your cell phone, or your home phone?”

  Kate thought a moment. “No, not that I can think of. Just a few of those calls where you say ‘hello’ a few times and no one answers so you hang up.”

  “That was very likely a predator on the other end of the line, wanting to know what your voice sounds like, that kind of thing. He got your number off the Scavenger Hunt site. He was probably testing the number.”

  That thought ran a chill through her. Kate hadn’t considered that possibility. She thought they were simply telemarketers or robocalls.

  “Any serial killer, super-predator, or simple opportunist who happens to come across the Scavenger Hunt is liable to think to themselves, ‘I’d like to kill Kate Bishop and collect all that money. Let’s see, where does she live? Where does she work? What does her voice sound like? Is she home in the evenings?’

  “Traveling for your job probably saved you more times than you know. It got you off the X without you even realizing it.”

  Kate held up a hand. “Okay, I get it, but I can’t just up and leave. I have a job, a mortgage, responsibilities. I have to earn a living.” She circled a finger over her head. “Motel rooms don’t come free.”

  Jack twisted to the side and took the pad of paper and pen with the motel’s name off the side table. He wrote something down, then tore the paper off the pad.

  “Put this in your pocket. Enter it in the burner phones later. Keep it with you always or keep it in a safe place where you can get to it. When you have some time, memorize it.”

  Kate took the paper when he leaned in and offered it. She held it up, looking at the string of numbers. “What is this?”

  “It’s a numbered bank account. Just call the phone number I wrote down with it and tell them how much you want and where to transfer it. They will ask for an account number. That’s it, there, along with the password to the account.

  “Use it whenever you need money. Take as much as you need. There’s more in there than you’re likely to ever use—unless you buy a private jet or something. As time goes on, the amount will grow and you will probably even be able to afford that, too.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kate was baffled. “What is this? Where did it come from?”

  Jack lifted an eyebrow. “If you really want to know, it’s a fund I set up.”

  “A fund,” she said, suspiciously. “Where does the money in this fund come from?”

  Jack’s gaze held hers. “From very bad people who died while trying to kill good people like you and me.”

  Kate finally used her teeth to pull a piece of chicken off the fork. She chewed as she thought about it.

  “You mean like those two rolls of hundreds we took off that guy last night?”

  Jack nodded. “That’s right. It was a reward he was paid for killing your brother. I also have the guy’s phone. If he has any bank accounts, I’ll drain them. A lot of these killers are involved in other things, like
drugs and any number of other criminal enterprises. Some of them have had a lot of money. Millions. I think it’s only right that the money should go toward helping people like you stay alive. It’s not easy living the way I suggest. This helps make it possible.”

  Kate wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about such a notion. She stared at the string of numbers and the code word “Scavenger” for a moment. She didn’t know that she liked the idea of spending money paid out for her brother’s murder. It seemed like she would be using blood money.

  “Money is just money,” Jack said, sensing her reluctance. “Don’t try to give it meaning it doesn’t have. Money is neither good nor evil. It’s not alive. It doesn’t have a brain. It doesn’t decide to kill people. It’s just money. It was taken from evil people so they can’t use it for evil. Now it’s used for good—for helping people.”

  “I suppose,” Kate said, not able to think of any good argument against the idea. She had bigger concerns. “But still, this city is my home. I don’t know that I could live on the move all the time like some kind of drifter.”

  “I’m not saying you have to move around all the time. How you want to live your life is up to you. I’m only telling you that your chances of survival are improved greatly if you get off the X. I can’t live your life for you, Kate, or tell you what to do. All I’m able to do is give you the best information and advice I can and then it’s up to you to decide what you want to do.

  “But let me ask you this. Are you going to be able to get a good night’s sleep, knowing that your home address is posted on the Scavenger Hunt site?”

  “Well I—”

  “Knowing that the man who murdered your brother had been standing in your bedroom, pawing through your underwear? Touching it, putting it up to his nose and smelling it? The same man who then slaughtered AJ and her family?”

  A chill ran through her at the thought. “For sure I’d sleep with my gun under my pillow.”

  “I would hope so. That’s one place where a gun would be a great defensive weapon and not a liability. If you get a secret vacation cottage or something, keep a gun with you there, too.