― Halldór Laxness
Constant Storms
I used to like rain and find it comforting. I especially loved flares at night and distant grumblings, the arpeggio scatterings of tiny notes, strains of a familiar melody.
I hadn't kept track but it seemed during this past month of blackouts the days were torrid and the nights pouring.
I'm not surprised really. There's nothing redeemable in unending monotony.
And so, here I am again before the fire longing for human company, while rain devils cackle at the windows and crackle with the fire's bleak cacophony.
It's a curse I saw coming and it's Wormwood, pure and simple with no remorse nor human sympathy.
The phone jangles and it startles me. I pick up to Tom Faraday's voice, terse and edged with mystery.
"Are you alone?"
"I am," I reply.
"I'm coming by―put on some coffee."
I don't know what surprised me most―that he'd opt to drop by or that he thought in the midst of a power outage I'd have the resources to make coffee...
but, of course, I did.
Still, it was a brusque but promising call―he wasn't drinking and managed to stay alive, so maybe there was hope for me.
I heated the coffee pot on the gas barbecue and put out cheese and croissants. I had no idea how Tom was faring or the last time when he ate or slept. I felt obligated to provide for him.
Twenty minutes later his headlights flared down the street and as he made his turn into my drive, the lights slid the window square across the wall.
"Feels like the end of the world out there," he grumbled as he came in and sat down wearily on the sofa chair opposite me.
His eyes grew wide when he saw the food.
"You didn't have to prepare a feast."
"I wasn't sure last time you ate―I was worried about you."
He ravenously devoured everything I put out. "You're a better man than me, Zach―I should never have gotten you mixed up in this crap. They're already locked onto me―won't be long 'till they find me."
"Look, I've got a cabin―you're welcome to hide out with me and a few friends."
He waved off my words."Too dangerous for both of us and whoever else is staying with you. Better to stay apart. This'll probably be the last time we talk. If we survive, you can buy me a round or two at The Wheat Sheaf and we'll compare war stories."
"I hope you've got a place to stay."
"Like I said, don't worry about me―but right now, I need you to listen close―it could save your life. Don't use plastic or cell phones and stay the hell off electronics. Lie low means go dark―completely. These guys will use A.I. to track digital footprints so don't leave any. Limit your contacts and wait it out until it passes."
I felt hopeless and helpless. "How will I know when it's over?"
"You'll know. The power will come back on―at night there'll be no aurora borealis, the plagues will be gone and newscasts will resume."
"You said, 'plagues'―you mean there'll be more than one?"
"It'll be like the Book of Exodus―Biblical in proportion."
I shook my head in disbelief. "Are you saying this emergency is spiritual?"
"I'm saying it involves a spiritual element. I'm not a believer, Zach―I have no idea what the hell shape it will take. I just think that's part of the deception. Personally, I think it's a world-wide insurrection that'll make use of whatever superstitions or beliefs people have and the cabal will manipulate them to their advantage."
He stood up to leave. I tried to stop him.
“You've barely been here ten minutes. At least stay the night, Tom—these storms are dangerous.”
“No, like I said, it’s better we stay separated. Besides, the storms also give me cover. I know how to hide. Remember what I said—go completely radio silent. Someone has to report the truth—it doesn’t help if we both get snuffed.”
We shook hands and he went out into the pouring dark. I felt it would be the last time I’d ever see him.
I watched while he pulled out and headed back into the storm and stayed until his tail lights faded into the rain.
A profound grief came over me such as I never experienced before and it was oppressive as a massive physical force weighing down on me―so much so, I dropped to my knees and called on God to deliver me.
It was the last thing I recalled until I awoke cold and shivering on the floor the next morning.
Tom is dead, I mused and couldn't drive the thought from my head. I hoped I was wrong but the feeling was so intense it tormented me.