Dallas:Sessions:20060211
Saturday, February 11, 2006. One minute ‘til 3:00am.
Kef begins to dream. A beautiful woman with red hair and blazing blue eyes, clad in red armor, stands in the midst of a Roman battlefield. There is fighting all around her, though at present she is not engaged. The woman is obviously shouting, but there is no sound in this vision.
The scene wavers, refocuses to a jungle scene. The woman’s hair is tied back, and she wears red fatigues. Again, there is fighting going on. It’s hard to tell one side from another – everyone (except the woman) wears black clothing. The features of the other combatants all look Asian. As people trot up to the woman, she hands each one an AK-47, then with a pat on the back sends them into the fight. She seems really happy.
The scene wavers, shifting to Los Angeles, 1980s era judging by the music. The woman, wearing a red bandanna, is the only white person and the only woman in the middle of a gang war between the Bloods and the Crips. In one hand she brandishes a MAC-10, and a sword hangs at her side.
The scene shifts again. The woman is riding in a red convertible being driven by Dallas evangelist Ferris Kellogg. There is music in the background – James Brown performing “Cold Sweat.” The woman turns her head; those brilliant blue eyes stare directly at Kef, and fear washes over the dreamer.
Kef awakens. She hears “Cold Sweat” blasting inside her head. She looks over at Blake, sleeping peacefully beside her, and she thinks, “Where is my gun?” She gets out of bed and goes and slides Blake’s gun out of its holster. She knows she has to kill somebody. Right now.
At this very moment Paula abruptly awakens, convinced that Kef is in trouble. She speed-dials Kef’s cell phone number as she heads for her car.
Kef chambers a round. She moves quietly, cautiously. Over the music in her head, she hears her cell phone ring. Blake doesn’t stir. A trickle of doubt enters Kef’s mind, but she continues. The phone stops ringing.
Carefully Kef climbs upon the bed to straddle Blake’s sleeping form. The phone starts ringing again, but Blake doesn’t move. The music urges her to kill somebody, kill somebody.
Kef isn’t answering her phone. Out of desperation, Paula tries a mental scream.
The music fades away and Kef’s mind clears. She gazes down at Blake. Carefully she safeties the gun, then swings her leg over and onto the floor. She crosses the room and returns the gun to its holster.
Her cell phone is ringing again; she locates it, softly says “Hello?” Paula says tensely, “Kef, you’re under attack, I’m on my way.” “Everything’s fine.” “You sure?” “Yes.” “I just know you were under attack. Nothing happened?” “Everything’s fine.” “Okay. Sorry about the false alarm, then. Love you, Kef.” But Paula continues driving toward Blake’s house.
Kef sits down on the bed next to Blake. She reaches over and gently shakes his arm. Blake awakens and looks at Kef. “Yes? Is something wrong?” “There’s something wrong with me,” Kef says softly. “With you? You look fine to me.” He sits up a bit. “Now, what’s wrong?” Kef’s voice trembles. “I just tried to kill you.” “Well,” Blake retorts, “since we’re having this conversation, you didn’t succeed. But that does beg the question – what’d I do? Why did you try to kill me? Are you going to try again tonight?” “No, because I won’t be here.” Kef stands up shakily.
“O-kay,” says Blake. “Why don’t we talk about this killing of Blake? Why would you try to kill me? And since I was very much asleep, why didn’t you succeed? It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.” Stating the obvious, Kef says, “Blake, you’re not taking this seriously at all.” “No.” Rapidly Kef gets out, “I had a vision. I saw the same woman four times, and after the fourth time she looked at me… then I just knew I had to kill somebody.” “Hmm. All right. So it wasn’t personal. I just happened to be the closest ‘somebody’ around. Right? Well, it’s not that I’m not taking your visions seriously, or that you were about to kill me...” Kef stammers, “Blake, I’m s-scared.” “I’m the one who almost died, and *you’re* scared? Let’s talk about this. What’s this woman look like?” Slowly Kef says, “She had… the most amazing blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Red hair, brighter than mine.” “I like redheads.” “And she always wore something red.” “Hm. Well, I think it’s pretty serious if someone could do that, make you want to kill somebody. But there’s no reason to run out of here.” Kef stares at Blake forlornly, and he says, “There’s not. Unless you’re gonna separate yourself from everybody. I mean…” “Maybe it’s that time again,” Kef murmurs; “I don’t want to hurt you.” “I agree. But I don’t think running out is the answer.”
Blake continues, “You know what? I have the strangest song in my head. I’m not really a fan of James Brown, but I’ve got this song playing in my head. I don’t know where I heard it.” “Let me guess… it’s ‘Cold Sweat.’” “Yeah! I’ve been dreaming I was hearing this song.” “What did you dream?” “I don’t remember. All I remember is the song, just before you woke me up. Were you dreaming about the song, too?” “It was playing in my dream, yes.” “Were you projecting? Can you project your dreams?” “No.”
After a few moments, Blake says, “I suggest, if you’ll feel better, I could put you in another room and lock myself in. That way you don’t have to leave the house. I feel it’s just as safe whether you’re in here or not. But since I’m not afraid, I don’t think that you should be afraid.” “Somehow I don’t find that very comforting, Blake.” “I do.” “I’m sorry I woke you up.” “No, I’m glad to be awake now. I feel rather fortunate.”
Blake asks, “So… are you going to stay in here, or are you gonna go into another room, or… are you gonna run out?” Kef sighs. “I’m going to the front room, because Paula’s going to be here any minute.” “Why’s Paula coming?” “Because she doesn’t believe that everything’s all right.” “Well, she’s right. Everything isn’t all right. But how does she know?” “I don’t know.” “Is this the witchy woman stuff again? D’you think so? But you said you can’t project your dreams, right?” Kef doesn’t answer. “You’re not trying one of those Jedi mind tricks on me like ‘go to bed, everything’s okay,’ are you? You couldn’t do that to me, could you?” “Just… go back to sleep, Blake.” “Okay. All right. I’m gonna stay in here where it’s nice and safe, and you and Paula go out there and discuss… whatever. And in the morning, we’re gonna have an in-depth discussion about your dream. Okay?” Silently, Kef starts pulling her clothes on. (Blake thinks, “This can’t be good.”) She slips out of the bedroom and closes the door behind her.
Around 3:30am Paula pulls up in front of Blake’s house. She attempts to cast the spell Seek Magic, which she has recently learned, but it doesn’t work. After resting for a minute, she tries again, but again it doesn’t work. Having heard the car arrive a few minutes ago, Kef opens the front door and peers outside. Paula gets out of her car and approaches. “Hello, Kef. Sorry to disturb you.” “Why were you just sitting out there?” “I cast Seek Magic twice and couldn’t quite get it to work. Trying to see if there’s any magical item or magical thing that had been thrown at you. Something attacked you,” Paula states positively. “I just woke up with the certainty that something bad was happening to you, that you were being attacked.” “Attacked how?” “I don’t know. Just something bad, is all I know. Like one of your more definite visions.”
Suddenly Kef bursts out, “Why are you humming that song?” Paula becomes aware that she had been humming a song she doesn’t know the name of, and stops herself. “Sorry, I don’t know why I was doing that.” “Did you check yourself for magic?” “Well, the spell I cast would have included me if it had gone off properly.” “I guess you should try again.” Paula takes extra time and care in casting Seek Magic, and she knows she successfully invoked the spell, but she detects no magic within her range.” She does realize that the song has been running through her head ever since she awakened, and she’d been humming it the whole time she was driving. She even knows the name of it now. “‘Cold Sweat.’ That’s the name of the song. I don’t know why I was humming it, though.” Paula sits down, quite fatigued from her spellcasting.
“There’s no active magic within the house,” Paula says, “so if it was a magical attack, it was from a distance, and it’s no longer active.” She looks at Kef. “Do you want to talk about it?” Kef describes her visions of the woman with red hair and bright blue eyes, ending with having seen her riding in a car with Ferris Kellogg. “She turned and looked at me, and that song started running through my head, and I knew I had to kill somebody.” “The song I was humming?” “Yes.” Paula flips open her cell phone and speed-dials Jeremy. “Paula, if they’re not calling us, then why bother them?” “Because something might be going on and I might need to wake them up or snap them out of it.”
Jeremy wakes up and answers his phone. “H’lo?” “You all right, Jeremy?” “Hang on a second.” Jeremy checks to make sure he’s okay. “I’m all here. Anything *not* all right?” “Anything particularly on your mind? Just stop and think and take assessment. See what runs through your mind. Listen to yourself.” When he does this, Jeremy remembers song that had been in the background of his dreams. He doesn’t hear it now, though. “Don’t know of anything,” he says to Paula, “just the voices in my head singin’ to me. Something about ‘in a cold sweat.’” “Stay on the line, please,” barks Paula.
Paula calls Axle’s home number. It’s one minute till four. “Axle, are you okay?” “Yeah, just fine.” “Did I wake you up?” “No, coffee’s made. I’ve been up for a few minutes.” “Anything odd happen just before you woke up? Take a moment and check your mind. See what’s going on in there.” “Totally blank.” But then he remembers, “I was dreaming something earlier. Visions of a guy with a cape, and I don’t think it was Superman.” “James Brown, possibly?” “Could be.” (Axle prefers opera.) Jeremy hollers, “Why are you dreamin’ my dream?” Paula asks Kef if she needs to wake up Blake; Kef replies, “Blake doesn’t think there’s anything to discuss yet.”
Paula goes over and knocks on Blake’s bedroom door. From within he calls, “Why are you knocking?” “In order to wake you up.” Realizing it wasn’t Kef who knocked, Blake says, “Oh. Okay. I guess I should come out there.” “Do you have a song running through your head?” “No.” “Did you?” “I dreamed a song. It was James Brown, ‘Cold Sweat.’” “That’s five for five.” “Five for five what?” “All five of us that are in town have had that song in our minds within the last few minutes.” “Let me come out.” Paula sits back down near Kef.
Jeremy: “So we’re all dreamin’ about bad songs. What’s the deal?” Paula: “I think we’re under attack, but it might just be a byproduct.” Jeremy: “Being attacked by bad Sixties music?” Axle: “I still have eight-tracks.” Blake (from the bedroom): “I kinda like James m’self, but I don’t know why I was dreaming about it.” Paula: “Because something’s going on. Five out of five is too much to be coincidence. And if Steve was here… I’m tempted to try to get hold of him wherever he’s at, but I’m thinking maybe distance will be a protection for him.” Blake emerges from the bedroom. “Did you move my gun?” Kef: “No.” Blake: “Okay. It looked like it was off.” Kef: “I put the safety on.” Blake: “Oh. You did tell me that.” Paula: “Are you awake, Blake?” Blake: “I’m awake enough to know the safety was on on my gun. Yes, I’m awake. Why don’t you call Steve, then?”
Picking up Blake’s house phone, Paula dials Steve’s satellite phone. “What, Blake?” “Uh, this is Paula.” “Oh, sorry. What, Paula?” Steve reports that he had dozed off within the past hour, “and I was hearing James Brown’s song ‘Cold Sweat.’” “S***,” says Paula. Kef finally stirs. “You know, you really need to clean up that pottymouth of yours, Paula. It’s undignified, coming from a woman of your years.” Paula, sheepishly: “I know. Bad habit.” Steve: “Is there anything I should know?” Paula: “I know you make six for six.” Steve, abruptly: “Well, I gotta go.” Paula: “Be careful, Steve.”
Paula: “So it’s six for six.” Blake: “Okay. I’m not sure what that means.” Jeremy: “What it means is either somebody has singled us out, or we haven’t got a big enough group of people to find out just how many have had this dream. ‘Cause if it’s everybody in Dallas, or if it’s everybody in the entire world…” Axle suggests that Jeremy call the professors while he dials up Butch, and Paula suggests Blake wake up some of his employees, but none of them report having strange dreams or hearing the song.
(Kef focuses on Blake, reading his emotions, because he hasn’t offered her any comfort, and he doesn’t seem to care about her at all. He is beginning to rethink Kef’s words, “I tried to kill you.” Maybe there’s more to it than just a bad dream, but he can’t wrap his brain around it. He’s going to have to talk her down later. Blake is calm, unfazed (as with most things). His primary emotion, if it could be called that, at this point is confusion. He is in “detective mode” now.)
Kef decides that the phenomenon has affected only herself and those she considers close to her. She wonders if the fact that it wasn’t just background music to him had something to do with Blake’s not waking up. And maybe Paula’s magic ability was why it affected her strongly. Kef also recalls that when she saw the preacher and the woman in the convertible, they were headed toward the Dallas skyline.
Paula: “So, Kef, you were seen.” Blake: “Seen?” Kef: “She turned and looked at me.” Blake: “The lady with the red hair and blue eyes?” Jeremy: “A lady with red hair and blue eyes looked at you? What?” Paula: “Kef had a vision, or a dream.” Kef: “Four of them.” Jeremy: “Oh, really? This song was playing through all of them?” Kef: “Just in the last one. Does anyone know who Ferris Kellogg is?” Paula: “Yeah, he’s an evangelist, a new voice on the Dallas religious scene.” Axle: “He’s got a billboard out here on Highway 80.” Paula: “Kef saw him riding in a car with the red-haired woman.” Kef: “And she’s on her way to Dallas, if she isn’t already here. She enjoys fighting… I guess… she enjoys death. The dreams spanned history.” Axle: “Do you think this has anything to do with going to Hell?” Kef: “I guess she could be a demoness. That would be the type to hang around with an evangelist.” Jeremy: “Sold his soul to the Devil.” (Axle: “Guess I’d better start practicing my fiddle.” Blake: “Are we going on down to Georgia?” Jeremy: “I ain’t going back to Atlanta!” Kef: “Sorry, Axle, you’re on your own.”)
Blake: “Paula, aren’t you from Alabama?” Paula: “Yes, lived most of the past fifteen years near Montgomery.” Blake: “Montgomery. That’s interesting. I was thinking about opening up an office down there, so I’d be close to Atlanta, and close to Deputy Tyson… but not too close.”
Paula: “The evangelist and the woman have gotten our attention, and I have a feeling you’ve gotten hers.” Jeremy: “Or *we* have.” Kef: “Why? I don’t recognize her.” Blake: “Did she look like she recognized you?” Kef: “Well, she got a good look at me.”
Jeremy announces he’s going out to get a newspaper. Paula sits quietly for several moments, thinking back. It occurs to her that while she was traveling from her house to Blake’s, she was driving overly aggressively, even taking into account her concern for Kef. Kef gets up and pads into the kitchen, finds a pencil and some paper, and begins sketching.
Paula sits down at Blake’s computer and googles Ferris Kellogg. He is thirty-five years old but appears younger. His bio says he grew up in the Dallas area, then left for a while. There’s no indication of where he went. He came back and began preaching at a small church in Oak Cliff. The church has grown to fair size, with an ethnically diverse congregation. Wealthy people drive from all over Dallas to attend his church. He only preaches there every other Sunday; other times he travels around the country as a guest preacher, and on occasional Sundays he disappears to nobody knows where.
Paula goes into the kitchen, picks up the sketches Kef has already completed, and scans them into Blake’s computer. Blake calls Jethro and tells him to match them to a “historical or mythological” (Paula’s terms) woman. “Yes, she has clothes on. Yes, I know this is before you usually start work, plus it’s Saturday. I don’t care.” (Jeremy: “One day’s just like any other. They all end in ‘y’.”)
The phone rings at Axle’s house, but he’s not there. He’s going to pick up breakfast and head over to Blake’s.
Feeling tired and miserable, Kef pushes aside her drawings, lays her head on the kitchen table, and tries to sleep.
As soon as the truck pulls up to refill the newspaper vending machines, Jeremy ties a dollar onto the string and takes a Saturday paper. Going back to his office, he opens the paper to the Religion section (John: “Hallelujah, it’s there!”) but there’s nothing there about Ferris Kellogg. It does list the times for worship services at his Oak Cliff church, which will be conducted by associate preacher Emmanuel Jackson. “I’m back,” Jeremy hollers at the phone. “He’s not preaching tomorrow, at least not at his church.”
Jeremy has flown a combat helicopter in southeast Asia, and he never heard any stories about “an Amazon in red fatigues.” Paula voices her belief that the woman is a supernatural being. Jeremy points out that in Roman times, the goddesses Minerva and Artemis were depicted as warlike. “Or she could be a demon.”
At 4:59, the doorbell rings. Blake opens the door to Axle, carrying a double armload of breakfast. He sets it all on the kitchen table near Kef, then picks up the sketches and studies them. Blake looks at Kef for a moment, then leans down, brushes her thick red hair away from one ear, and murmurs into it, “Psst. Are you okay?” Kef raises her head. Axle waves at her from across the table. Kef replies to Blake, “I was trying to see if I could see anything else.” “I think you’ve done seen enough for tonight, don’t you think?” “No, obviously not.” “Have you told them about the second part, what happened when you woke up?” “That I tried to kill you?” “Yeah, that part.” “Axle, I tried to kill Blake.” Axle: “Doesn’t seem like it worked.” Kef: “No, he’s bulletproof.” Axle: “Did you imagine him to be somebody else, or what?” Kef: “No, I had to kill somebody.”
Blake calls Paula away from the computer into the kitchen. She brings the phone with her. Blake steps back from Kef and asks Paula, “Did she tell you about what happened when she woke up?” Paula, chagrined: “I started calling people and didn’t give her a chance to finish.” Blake: “Tell me exactly what you did.” Kef: “I woke up. I knew my gun was at home. I knew where Blake’s gun was. I was perfectly lucid. I went over, took his gun… chambered a round… went over to where Blake was sleeping…” Kef stops, unable to go on. Paula: “But you pulled yourself out of it, so you’re okay. Hold on to that thought.” Jeremy, cheerfully: “Blake’s made *me* that mad before!”
It occurs to Paula that as she was driving over, there had been an entire concert playing in her head. She figures it was playing in Kef’s at the same time. The music was making Paula drive aggressively.
Paula repeats, “You fought the song and won. Hold on to that thought.” Kef, slowly: “Well, that’s not quite how it was. There wasn’t anything to fight. I wasn’t being forced to do anything.” Paula: “The song was pushing you to be more aggressive, more violent. It affected me that way, and I wasn’t the primary focus of it. I think you were the primary focus because she connected to you through your vision.” Kef, loudly: “And *somehow* to all the rest of you.” Paula: “Well, after all we’ve been through in the past five years, I think we have a pretty solid link.” Kef, very softly: “That’s why I was always a loner before.” Paula: “But having a link makes us better able to withstand this type of thing. It makes us vulnerable sometimes, but stronger in the long run. Teams – families – are like that. She always appeared in violent scenes, so she’s pushing those buttons.”
(It occurs to Kef that the effect on Blake was minimal because ‘pushing his buttons’ simply doesn’t work the way it does in most people. He’s already violent, so pushing him to be more violent didn’t work. “But he didn’t wake up wanting to kill me, either.”)
Axle: “Would this be something Enigma did? A way to contact us, to warn us about something?” Paula: “I never understood how he knew what he knew and how he’d pass information on. He lived up to his name all the time.” Axle: “Would this be down his alley?” Paula: “Yes, it would.”
Blake: “So… we now know that this woman tried to push you to do something that wasn’t… No, no, that’s not what you described, is it? Killing me seemed to be against your nature, but killing didn’t seem to be against your nature.” Kef: “I just knew I had to kill somebody, and I… had never hurt an innocent person in my life.” Paula: “She hasn’t. And her record is still good, because she didn’t end up killing you, either.” Blake, laughing: “Even if she’d killed me, it still wouldn’t have counted!” Paula, also laughing: “No, Blake. In your nature, you’re basically on the side of the angels. In the context of what Kef’s talking about, you are an innocent.” Axle: “Well, nobody said ‘true’ innocent.” Blake: “Let’s not go farther than that. (To Kef) Which is why you didn’t kill me. It didn’t fit in your nature.”
Kef: “Why was I so susceptible?” Paula: “Because you had a direct link to her through your vision.” Kef: “Why is she linking to me?” Axle: “Are you sure she linked to you?” Kef: “No.” Paula: “Your ‘ability’ serves to warn us of danger, things we can help and prevent. It could be that she’s a threat, if not to the world, at least to this part of the world.” Blake: “Or to us.” Paula: “She could be hunting us, but more likely not – so if she sees you as a threat to what she’s planning to do, she’s going to have to find you.” Blake: “In your visions, a person of power may notice you when you’re looking at them. That’s happened before.” Kef: “Yes, it happened with Kevin McGuire’s companion. She turned and looked at me in almost the same way.” Paula: “Well, if she’s a person of power, we need to approach this methodically and carefully.”
Axle’s cell phone rings. It’s his old buddy Butch in California. “Axle, something strange is happening at one of the warehouses out here.” “Shouldn’t you be calling the police first?” “Well…” “Strange funny or strange?” “Strange strange. I was doing my rounds and saw a strange glow. So, being the brave man that I am, I peeked in through the window instead of opening the door. I saw this guy, and then he was gone. I went inside and looked, and there was a burnt mark on the floor, but that was it.” “Anything missing?” “There couldn’t be anything missing, there wasn’t anything in there.” “Okay. Did you recognize him.” “No, I didn’t.” “What did he look like?” “He just looked like a guy. He had a white t-shirt on, blue jeans, and tennis shoes. Blond hair. I suggest you come out here and take a look.” “Is there any shape to the burn mark?” “No, it looks like a starburst, I guess.” “If you’ve got a cell phone that takes pictures, send us a picture.” Several minutes later, the picture shows up on Axle’s phone; he shows it to Paula, who can’t tell whether it’s a byproduct of magic. “Well, keep an eye out, let me know. We’re working on something here right now.” “Okay, boss.”
Axle gives everyone a summary of what Butch said had happened at one of the warehouses that Axle leases from Blake (which formerly belonged to Deathwish). Blake: “One of them had a magic mark or a portal.” Axle: “It could have been a portal. He described a bright light.” Blake: “But I thought it was closed.” Paula: “They were all closed. Someone would have had to go to some effort to reopen them.”
Axle: “Jeremy, are you still there?” Jeremy: “Yeah?” Axle: “I think you might want to make a flight plan to LA.” Jeremy: “Okay. But I thought that Kef’s vision saw the woman here in Dallas.” Axle: “Yeah, but something just happened in one of the warehouses that Blake acquired from Deathwish. So this could be associated with that.” Paula: “Yeah, I don’t believe in coincidences.”
At 6:15 Paula’s phone rings. It’s one of her Renaissance fair contacts. “Hi, Paula. You know how you wanted us to keep our eyes open for anything unusual? Well, in Montgomery on Thursday night, there was an outbreak of weird. And some of it seems to be magical. We’ve had people just drop dead, gangs of kids walk around attacking people and then they don’t remember why…” “How long has this been going on?” “Oh, two or three days. The strangest thing, though… the only thing that really seems to be connected is a song.” “Tell me the song.” “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. It’s James Brown, ‘Cold Sweat.’” “That’s what I thought you were going to say. Any visiting evangelists or preachers running a revival in Montgomery this month?” “There’s *always* a preacher running…” Paula cuts in, “Somebody who started just a few days before, or around the time this outbreak started, or ended when it started.” “I’ll have to see, but none that sticks out.” “Check it. You described several things, dropping dead, unprovoked attacks by youth, what else?” “There was a dismemberment.” “Okay, how is the local press explaining it?” “Well, they’re not, really. They’re not putting together the events. The youths attacking has made big news. They’re kids from different backgrounds who aren’t even friends. Then they happen to be at the mall and walk by each other and it’s like, hey, let’s go beat up some people.” “Is it isolated just to Montgomery and Montgomery county, or has it been seen in other parts of the state?” “No, we’ve just seen it in Montgomery. So if you could come down here and take a look…” Upon a suggestion from Axle, Paula says, “Check whether Reverend Ferris Kellogg has visited Montgomery within the past two weeks.” “No. He was here a month ago, though.” “A month ago. How long was he there? Was it a week-long revival or a single speaking engagement?” “It was just a Sunday. It was a big deal, which is why I remember it so easily. He was at one of the really large churches.” “And it was packed, wasn’t it.” “Oh, it was standing room only.” “Do me a favor. I want to know if everyone involved had attended that service, the youths taking part in the violence, the people who dropped dead. See if you can relate them back to that service. I have a bad feeling about this.” “Okay. Are you coming down?” “I may. I’ve got other problems breaking out in Los Angeles. I’ll have somebody check it out. Somebody will be around as soon as I can get them there.”
Jeremy talks to some of his contacts “who have access to information I’m probably not supposed to get.” He learns that sometimes Rev. Kellogg flies commercially, but as of a few months ago he began flying on rich folks’ private jets. One of the pilots, Joe, describes Kellogg as “a really nice guy” and he had last flown him just a couple of weeks ago. “Really? Where’d you take him?” “Let’s see. It was weird. First we stopped in Montgomery, but only for a few minutes. Then we went to Chicago, and he stayed there a couple of days. Then we came back to Redbird, then came up to Addison.” “All on your boss’s nickel?” “Oh, yeah. My boss loves him. When Ferris got off, the boss asked him if there was anyplace else he’d like to go. He has a presence about him.” “Yeah? Has he got an entourage?” “That’s the strange thing. No, he usually flies by himself. There’s people there to meet him wherever he goes. But when he flew with me, it was just him.” “I was just wonderin’. I’ve been approached about a job, and I thought I’d better check it out. You know, I wouldn’t want to get up in the air with some nutcase.” [Mary: “Some *other* nutcase.”] “He seemed really nice. He wasn’t too demanding. The boss went all-out for him.” “So are you scheduled to take him anywhere sometime soon?” “No, just whenever the boss calls.” “That’s kind of what I was afraid of. I kind of need a schedule. That’s kind of tough for me.” “Excuse me? Is this Jeremy Grant? Is this who I’m talkin’ to? Are you an imposter? Did you just say what I thought you said about ‘schedule?’” “Yeah.” “One of us needs to get our coffee. It must be me.” “No, really. Now that I own my own plane and do all that, I kinda got to schedule things out. I can’t just…” “As I said, I think I’ll go get my coffee now, Jeremy. Nice talkin’ to ya.”
It’s 7:59. Blake tries to coax Kef into eating some breakfast, but she’s giving him the cold shoulder. Blake thinks, “Maybe I tried to kill her and don’t remember.”
Jeremy suggests, “Maybe Kellogg stopped to trigger something” during his recent brief stop in Montgomery. Blake: “That’s a long trigger.” Kef: “Was she with him?” Jeremy: “No, he flies alone. Supposedly. That’s what I was hoping, that somebody would have seen her.” Kef: “If she *is* a supernatural being, maybe only certain people can see her.” Paula: “Do you have more people you can check? We need to see what cities he’s hit.” Jeremy: “There have been other pilots. I just found one that I knew who had flown him around.”
Kef: “What impulse do these rich people have for suddenly handing huge wads of cash to this preacher?” Jeremy: “Well, that church down there has started drawing all kinds of rich folks.” Kef: “Doesn’t it usually cause problems when preachers use that money to indulge themselves and travel around in private jets instead of, you know, helping the poor?” Axle: “Only if he’s taking the money from the church.” Kef: “So people are giving *him* money directly.” Jeremy: “They’re just offering him rides. And maybe to get in good with him, they have to donate money to the church as well. Usually when those things fall apart, it’s when the preacher falls out of favor with some of the congregation, then everyone starts asking questions. As long as everyone’s happy with him, nobody asks any questions about how he’s spending the money.” Kef: “Then why are they happy with him when he doesn’t even show up to preach half the Sundays?” Jeremy: “I dunno. Want to go to church tomorrow and find out?” Kef: “No, not particularly. Besides, you said that the associate pastor was preaching.” Jeremy: “Exactly! That’s when you should go and ask why they’re happy with the guy who’s not there.” Blake: “That sounds like a good idea.” Kef: “We could ask him that today.” Jeremy: “I wasn’t going to ask him, I was going to ask them… if anybody shows up tomorrow.” Paula: “According to all the sites, they do show up even when he’s not there.” Jeremy: “I wonder if they play James Brown at the services.” Paula: “That’s a good question. I couldn’t see anything like that in the material.” Blake: “James does some religious songs where you can actually understand what he says, but ‘Cold Sweat’ is not one of them.”
Paula: “Well, a lot of bad things are happening in Montgomery, Alabama.” Blake: “Is that your plan, to go to Montgomery? Because I really need you down in Montgomery, now that I think about it.” Paula: “She was desperate for help, and she doesn’t have the wherewithal. She’s smart enough to put it together that they’re all connected, and she knows that I’ve been involved in some stuff over the last several years, and I’ve been asking questions for the last year, so she knows I’ve been paying attention. Whatever he’s planning, it looks like it has some sort of delayed effect. It’s not instantaneous.” Kef: “It’s probably not *his* plan.”
Paula phones Rev. Kellogg’s church. The female voice on the other end answers, “Church of the Natural God. How may you serve the Lord?” Paula asks to make an appointment to see “Reverend Ferris” today or tomorrow, and is told “I’m afraid that would not be possible. He is not in town.” “May I inquire as to which city he is currently bringing the blessings of the Lord to?” “You can inquire but we will not tell you, because we do not know at this time. He is indisposed, and he is studying the Word.” [Jeremy: “Is she a redhead?” Axle: “He’s only gotten to second base… er, chapter two.”] No, he did not name a date when he might be available, but he will probably check in Monday or Tuesday.
Blake: “Okay, I’ll stay here and guard the fort. And if something happens…” Kef: “No, we can’t ever leave you alone, Blake.” Blake: “I have plenty of people to assist me…” Jeremy: “If something happens, we can always come to Hell and look for you, again, huh?” Kef: “How are we going to get there? Mr. Grimes isn’t around.” Jeremy: “The heck with that, we’ll just leave him.” Kef: “No!” Paula: “The situation in Montgomery right now has violence in it, and Blake deals with violence quite expertly.” Axle: “You have enough people locally to inform you if something happens. What I think is that you and Paula should get on a commercial flight and head that way. Jeremy, myself, and Kef will go to LA and check that out, then meet you in Montgomery.” Paula: “If you have Jeremy with you, you’ll have the flexibility to go to Chicago or elsewhere if necessary.”
(Kef: “You could ask the Professor if he has any plans for a red-headed demon b*tch detector.” Axle: “I was thinking he could hook it into the Early Warning System.” Kef: “According to Arthurian legend, Nimue had red hair.” Blake: “Who was that?” Kef: “She was a demoness who imprisoned the wizard Merlin.”)
The group agrees to Axle’s plan. Blake makes flight arrangements to Montgomery for Paula and himself. Their flight leaves at 10:20.
Jeremy calls an acquaintance of his, Supervisor Ted, who has worked at Redbird Airport for fifteen years. “Hey, Ted, it’s Jeremy Grant.” “Hi, Jeremy.” “I’m trying to check some stuff out on a potential client, and I figured you might know something about him.” “Okay, I’ll see if I know anything.” “Do you know anybody that’s flown this Reverend Ferris Kellogg?” “Oh, the Right Reverend Ferris Kellogg! Yes. Well, I know Joe flew him.” “Really? When?” “Oh, probably a month ago.” “Well, I’m wondering about something more recent than that. You haven’t seen him any more recently, have you?” “I don’t know of anything more recent than that.” “So, you know this reverend?” “Well, yeah, I’ve been down to his church.” “Oh, yeah? Seem to be a pretty up-and-up fellow?” “Aw, man, he’s incredible. He gets up there and you can just feel the spirit move through you. Sometimes you’re happy, sometimes you’re sad, you just feel the spirit go through you.” [John: “Sometimes you feel rich, but when you leave you feel poor.”] Ted continues, “I mean, he’s turned that church around. They have that great big ol’ building, and they used to have maybe twenty people in there.” “A few more than twenty when you went, huh?” “Aw, man, it was packed! At the end we went up there, and he shook my hand and he looked me in the eye, and I could just feel it coming from him. I never felt that before. And you could tell from his face that he knew something.” “Yeah, I’ve met some guys like that. Well, who do you know up at the Addison airport that might know something about him?” “Addison Airport, lemme see. What’s that guy’s name… he has a funny name, one I should remember. Harry… Harry Truman! We used to make fun of him. H. Truman is what he goes by. He’s one of the mechanics up there.” Jeremy knows him (even though he does all of his own mechanic work.)
Paula scans the websites for the Montgomery Advertiser and the WSFA-12 NBC affiliate. She finds articles confirming what her acquaintance had told her. There are few details regarding the dismemberment. [Mary: “They can’t put the pieces together.”] A petty thief had snatched a purse and the police were chasing him on foot. When they came around a corner, they found the thief’s legs, then his arms, then his head, then his torso. This had been done in the space of less than twenty seconds, the cops had heard no sound, and whoever had done it was nowhere to be seen. [Mary: “It wasn’t a magic sword, it was an eldritch cleaver.”] According to the autopsy report, each limb had been severed with a single precise blow. Jeremy: “In other words, the person who did this was a butcher. He knew right where to cut.” Kef: “Or a surgeon.” There’s a bio and rapsheet listed for the victim, with the implication that the world won’t miss him. Jeremy: “In other words, they’re trying to say that it’s okay that this happened because he was a bad man.”
At 8:59 Blake goes into his bedroom to get ready to go to Montgomery. He pulls his reluctant red-haired partner along with him. Kef, annoyed: “What?” “Come on. Let’s go in here and talk.” “No.” “No?” “I don’t have anything to say to you right now.” “That’s okay. I have something to say to you, so you can listen.” He closes the door, then immediately confronts her. “For some reason you seem to be upset with me. I’m not sure why.” “Because you don’t care about me, Blake.” “I don’t?” “No. You don’t.” “I thought I did.” “I thought you did, too.” “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, that I don’t care.” “I told you I was scared, and all you did was say ‘we’ll talk about it in the morning.’” “Well, that’s what I usually do… I didn’t feel threatened by you at three o’clock in the morning. I figured that it would wait. I didn’t know that Paula was on her way up here...” Kef: “But you didn’t even offer me a hug! You didn’t offer me any comfort at all, just ‘wait till morning.’” Blake: “Okay, I was wrong! I was still sleepy. I had that song running through my head.” Kef: “Well, you’ve been awake now for how many hours?” Blake: “And you’ve been mad at me for how many hours?” Kef: “And you haven’t done anything to make me otherwise in how many hours?” Blake: “Well, I tried to talk to you, but I kept getting the cold shoulder.” Kef: “I was busy drawing pictures.” Blake: “Yes, I know. And I was busy trying to figure out who we have p*ssed off so far. And now that I have you in here so we’re alone and talking… I might not have handled it correctly this morning. But there’s no reason to go, ‘oh, Blake doesn’t love me’ because that’s not true, and ‘he doesn’t care about me’ because that’s not true. I won’t even say it was a man thing, because it wasn’t. I went back into the mode of, okay, we have some kind of trouble that’s coming, let’s fix it.” “That was the thing, you didn’t think there *was* trouble.” “No, I didn’t, when I woke up. But now, I can readily admit that I was wrong.” “Blake, I can read auras. There wasn’t *any* concern for me.” “Or myself! Because I didn’t feel any danger, any… Why would I feel any danger from you?” “I’m not talking about danger! I was upset, I was afraid…” “Well, I don’t read auras.” “I told you I was scared.” “I thought it was that you were scared that you’d almost killed me. And my thing was to let you know that I had no fear that you would hurt me.” “Oh. My dream didn’t have any significance for you because you didn’t get hurt.” “Well, if your dream was the source of wanting to kill me, and I didn’t get hurt, my conclusion is that you had won out over your dream.” “And the fact that I was upset about it didn’t mean anything to you.” “Well, if I could have gotten you back into bed and talked to you then…” “You were going to roll over and go back to sleep! That’s why I got up and got dressed. I was going to leave, and then Paula showed up.” “And go where?” “Away, so I couldn’t hurt you.” “Once again, I wasn’t worried about being hurt.” “I know *you* don’t worry about being hurt.” “No. I didn’t know that you had got my gun until later. You never said ‘I almost shot you, Blake.’ You said ‘I almost killed you.’ As far as I knew, you were about to stab me or choke me.” “It doesn’t matter *how* I was going to do it!” “Well, if you were going to choke me, I might have a shot. If you were going to stab me, well, I’d have been just bloody.” “I was sitting on top of you, Blake, with your gun pointed at you. You didn’t stir.” “Wow. I didn’t? That’s unusual, don’t you think?” “Well, we’re back to talking about *you* again. It’s *always* you, Blake. It’s *always* about you.” “That’s usually the way my life goes, but that’s not the point, though.” “Well, it started out not to be the point.” Blake, snickering: “Point… You were pointing the gun, it was about *you* then.” “Sure, it was all about me.” “I think… I think whatever you read, you’re not reading correctly. Even if you can read auras, it doesn’t always work the way you think. Nobody’s that accurate.” “Oh, so I didn’t really have a dream about…” “Killing me? No, I’m not saying that. You said you read my aura and you felt…” “I didn’t *have* to read your aura to tell that you didn’t care. I did it because I wanted to find something that indicated that you did. And I didn’t.” “No… I wasn’t concerned… my thing was that you said you almost killed me. That’s what I was focused on.” “Then when you woke up and you weren’t dead, ‘okay, go back to sleep.’ Never mind that I’m standing there naked and shivering.” “Well, I handled it badly.” “So. That’s why I’m upset. Is that enough?” “Yup, I’ve, um, had enough.” “All right.” “I suppose that we can talk about this later.” “There might not be a later.” “Why not?” “Things are in motion now.” “Oh. I thought you knew something I didn’t know. You said ‘there might not be a later,’ I was thinking ‘what do you mean?’ Well, if there is a later, we can talk about it later. How’s that?” “What is it you want to say?” “What do you mean?” “You said we could talk about it later. Why not now? What have you got to say to me?” “Well, I still love you, so what is it that’s… You seem to think I don’t. Is that the case?” “You don’t.” “Okay, I’m just delusional.” “Mm-hmm.” “Okay. I just wanted to make sure I was on the same page. All right. If you’re as sure as you think you are about how I feel… well, I’ve never known anybody to be able to tell me what I feel, but obviously as you go along you meet people like that. If you believe that, then… then there’s nothing ‘later’ to talk about.” “Then there’s nothing you can do about it, is there.” “Not if you believe that, no, there’s nothing I can do.” “You’re not going to try to change my mind?” “You’re the person that believes that.” “And you’re not going to do anything to make me think otherwise. So it’s a self-fulfilling proposition. You say I can’t make you feel however you feel, but I am, because I don’t think you love me.” “No, I said you can’t tell me how I feel.” “Oh. All right.” “But your belief – and you’re pretty stubborn once you get something in your mind, once you get it in your brain that this is the way it is – it takes a shock to your system sometimes to bring you out of it. And since I don’t really have any way to bring a shock to your system – well, yes, I do, but right now I need to focus… I believe that you’re taking one instance that things didn’t go your way, you were scared and I didn’t react the way you thought I should react, and I plead just being dumb on that part. And when I got up, I was just… when I realized, okay, there is a serious problem, instead of looking and saying okay, I need to go back and see how she’s doing, I just started to focus on what we usually do. ‘Oh, we have a problem, we need to get together and figure out what we need to do.’ I should’ve said ‘okay, let’s see about Kef,’ because I should remember how traumatic these dreams can be. And I didn’t. As I say, ‘handled it badly’ might be an understatement on my part. But it wasn’t that I didn’t care. It’s as things got caught up, I said I should go and do what I normally do: take charge of the situation, and try to move it along. You know how we are, it’s like herding cats, with Paula wanting to run this way, and Jeremy wanting to run this way, and Axle wanting to run up and down. And for us to come to a consensus that three of us go to LA, which is what I said at first, and two of us go to Montgomery was my very first saying I said, we went around and around and around and came back to where? Back to what I said we should do in the first place. It wasn’t that I wasn’t thinking about your feelings, it simply was a mindframe, a mindset that I have. And this relationship that we’re in… I’m pretty used to it. But I didn’t take into account that at the beginning… Most of the time you’ve already had the dream, and had the shock, and then I come in and calm you down and try to bring you back to where it’s not so overwhelming. This time, I was at the beginning and didn’t appreciate it. So… give me another chance?” “Okay.” “All right. Good. That’s a weight off my mind.
“Now. LA?” “I suppose I need to go to LA to examine that scorch mark. Maybe it’ll let me learn about the being that made it. But I’m not sure what to do after that.” “I think the direction we’re going might help out. Because I think we might not be seeing the whole picture here.” “It’s more likely that Paula will learn something in Montgomery because the violence there has already started. But something’s about to happen in Dallas, if that last part of the vision is any indication.” “Well, you know what they say – all roads lead to Dallas.” “*We* say that. All the world’s problems land on our doorstep.” “Well, you know, it’s the Kennedy thing; it’s a weirdness magnet here now.”
Jeremy flies Axle and Kef to Los Angeles. On the way, Kef phones the Grays to ask if Ed had had any dreams he hadn’t yet told Auntie Kef about. “Ya know, I did dream something strange about Paula last night. There was a soundtrack playing in the background. And I see her face, and she looks scared, totally frightened, like she’s watching a scary movie or somethin’.” “What’s she looking at?” “I can’t see. All I can see is her. I could see people around her and stuff, but nobody I knew. Then I saw her fall. She just fell over backwards onto a sidewalk.” “Okay, Eddie, I’m glad you told me this. If you have any more dreams or visions, be sure and let me know.” “Okay.” Kef asks to speak to Ed’s mother, Carla. She tells her “Paula and Blake are flying to Montgomery, and there might be some trouble going on, so stay out of Montgomery. If anything psychic or weird happens, let me know right away.”
Paula and Blake land in Montgomery. Blake rents a car (and buys insurance). They pick up Paula’s friend. Paula wants to go first to the place where someone just dropped dead, so they head to a downtown shopping district. On the way there, Paula takes a quick call from Kef, who gives her an outline version of Eddie Gray’s dream. Paula in turn warns Blake that she might faint in the next hour or so, and “whatever causes it, you probably need to… contain.” She turns to her friend and says, “You stepped in the middle of something dangerous, and I’ll get you out of it as soon as I can.”
While Axle is renting a car at LAX, an official approaches and says he needs to speak to Jeremy about his jet because “it ‘pinged’ odd.” Jeremy readily cooperates and shows several inspectors around his plane, but they won’t tell him what they’re looking for. He explains that the solar panels can be used to recharge the engines. He even offers to take them for a flight. Eventually they allow that the solar panels might have been what ‘pinged funny’ and thank him for his cooperation.
Blake finds a place to park. He, Paula, and Paula’s friend walk a couple of blocks. Two of Montgomery’s Finest climb out of their squad car, stride directly up to Blake (the tall well-dressed black man accompanied by two white women) and take him around a corner to have a chat. When Paula tries to follow, she’s requested to “wait here, miss.” “Is he under arrest?” “No, we just want to have a conversation.” “No need to go out of my sight to do it.” “Miss, I think you should probably back off right this moment, or you’re gonna be…” “Arrested?” “That is a possibility.” “For what, sir?” “Interfering with an officer of the law comes to mind.” Paula quickly backs down. “Yes, sir. I understand. I do not want to obstruct justice; that’s the furthest thing from my mind.”
For some reason Paula’s attention is drawn to something behind her. When she turns and looks, she sees five young men harassing other people. As the cops and Blake disappear around the corner, the gang rushes up toward Paula and her friend, and one of the guys (G1) pulls a knife. Paula quickly forms lightning in her hand, and her friend ducks behind her. “Don’t follow the song,” says Paula tensely. The two guys flanking the one with the knife draw their guns and point them at Paula, one at her head (G2), the other at her chest (G3). Paula’s friend (PF) crouches down, and the other two guys (G4, G5) spread out to cut off her escape. “Oh, this is a robbery, then,” Paula says. G1 lunges; Paula parries him with her off-hand, and with her other hand slaps her lightning hand against the gun pointed at her head. The electrical shock causes G2 to twitch the gun upwards and step back. Paula steps into G2 to shield herself from G3. G2 takes two quick steps back; G3 steps toward her; G1 steps forward and slashes air; G4 and G5 close in as PF stays right behind Paula. Paula senses that these guys like the fact that she looks worried and PF is terrified. Concentrating, Paula steps into G1. G2 slides behind her, pointing his gun at the back of her head. Paula tries to cast Spasm but fails badly, and now things happen in slow motion. G1 steps back, slashing at her leg and missing. G3 fires and misses. G2’s finger tightens on the trigger and Paula can actually see the bullet emerging from the gun. She throws herself to the side, but knows she didn’t dodge.
Suddenly a tall man (S) appears, seemingly stepping out of midair. G4 and G5 turn to look at S, then faint dead away. The bullet creeps closer to Paula, who dodges, coming face-to-face with S. She starts to lose consciousness. S brushes past Paula and suddenly G3’s torso is sliced in two. Next, something severs G1’s hand, then his leg. As Paula kisses the sidewalk, she sees G2’s arms and head fall off.
Paula awakens in the car, with Blake holding smelling salts under her nose. As Paula comes around, Blake repeats the treatment with PF. “Okay, Blake, that answers one question. Are you okay?” “Yeah, I had to take care of Tweedledum and Tweedledee first.” (When the gunshots sounded, the cops turned their heads and Blake dazed them.) “Didn’t kill them, I hope.” “No, they’re fine. I went back around the corner and woke them up once I got you and her into the car. It was a bloody mess around there.” “I didn’t even have time to go for the dazer, it was so quick, but I don’t know how much it would have helped. I know what happened to the dismembered thief, or how it was done, at least.” “And how was it done?” “Someone’s got a major time manipulation spell or ability. Somebody phased in, chopped them up – saved my life in the process, thankfully. On second thought, he didn’t slow time, he was moving fast. I had a problem that let me see him. Something about him put me out, just like little Ed said. When you came around the corner, how many bodies or parts of bodies did you see on the ground?” “It looked like what was left of five individuals. [Two died of fright; three were dismembered.] When I woke up the two cops I asked them ‘Is there something wrong around here?’” “They didn’t get your name or ID or anything, did they?” “Oh, yeah.” “They always do.” “But they don’t remember what happened to them.” “I don’t know if my dilemma drew him, or what happened, why he came.” “Was it a he?” “I think it was a he. Definitely wasn’t the redhead. Now I’m confused about which side this guy might be on, given who he’s killing and what he’s doing. A little overreaction for a mugging, but for someone trying to murder somebody it was appropriate.” “Sounds effective.” “They won’t do it again. While this person’s reaction it extreme, it was along the line of the way Steve reacts. A little heavy-handed, but the perpetrator ain’t gonna do it again. So this person could be in opposition to whoever’s creating the violence. Or it could be a manifestation of it. I don’t know. Not enough information. But it was frightening enough that it just knocked me out. And I can’t remember his face because of it.” PF remembers the guy trying to cut Paula and PF attempting to hide; she heard a gun go off, then a wave of fear hit her and she blacked out. Paula: “The weird thing here is, I don’t know what he cut them up with. I don’t remember seeing a weapon. Several things might could have done that. Very sharp magical blade, or monowire.” But his hand and arm motions didn’t correspond to wielding a sword or a whip. His movements were reminiscent of a weird dance.
Blake: “I think we’ve learned enough for the day. I think we should get your friend home and settled down, and then catch the next plane out of here. You’ve already had one close call. I’m just hoping it’s not centered on you.” Paula: “Could have been a target of opportunity, or could be that my… ability drew the ruffians. But five was way more than I could handle myself. [S killed all five of them in less than two seconds.] You’re right, let’s get out of here. There’s nothing I can do here to stop it.” Blake: “Let’s get you back on familiar ground, then once you calm down and think things through, maybe we’ll have a better assessment.”
After the authorities finish harassing Jeremy, Axle slides behind the wheel of the rented car. “We’ll have to have Darvich put an anti-ping device on your plane,” Kef remarks to Jeremy. They drive to the warehouse where Butch greets them and opens the place up. Nothing looks unusual from the outside. But inside, toward the back, there is trash scattered all around. Butch: “That wasn’t there before.” Axle pokes through food wrappers, newspapers, and other debris while Butch shows Kef the scorch mark on the floor, not quite in the center of the warehouse. Kef kneels down beside the mark and holds her hand just above it. She doesn’t feel any emanations from it, so she touches it. [Bill: “Zap!” Mary: “Then I turn into a scorch mark, and that’s the end of *my* adventure, but I have a backup character. She’s a medic.” Bill: “No…” Axle: “She’ll revive you?” Mary: “No, she can’t revive Kef because she’s a scorch mark, but if anyone else…” Bill: “We’ll cut out the scorch mark and hang it above the mantel.” Mary: “Yup. ‘That was my last girlfriend… she tried to kill me.’” Bill: “’I gave her the kiss of death before she left. Kissed her on her forehead, and she was wondering why.’” Mary: “Yup. It’s the mark of you, Beast.”]
Kef concentrates on a particular time. At first she is in darkness. She can hear Butch patrolling outside, talking to someone on his phone. Suddenly a blazing brilliance strikes the floor. Searing white light illuminates the entire interior of the warehouse. Kef sees a pale-skinned man, perhaps 25-30 years of age, with white-blond hair and gray eyes. His facial features are so nondescript that Kef knows she must make a special effort to remember them. He is clad all in white – t-shirt, pants, shoes. He doesn’t appear to be carrying any equipment. He smiles, and Kef’s empathy reads a “happy to be here – finally, the time has come” feeling from him. He stands there for several seconds, then turns in a circle and looks around (he doesn’t seem to be looking for anything, though). His hands move, and seemingly from nowhere, trash appears and rolls toward the back of the warehouse. [John: “It’s the Intergalactic Garbage Guy.” Bill: “Nah, if it were him, you’d be seeing piles of lost socks. That’s for another scenario.”] The bright light seems to collapse on itself, and then the man is gone.
Meanwhile, Butch suggests to Axle that they go check some of the other warehouses. “Okay,” replies Axle, “as soon as she’s done here.” “How long is that going to be?” “A couple of days. Why? Are there scorch marks in the other ones?” “I don’t know.” “I’m not going to leave her here alone.” “Well, Jeremy’s here with her.” Axle repeats, “I’m not going to leave her here alone. How far are they from here?” “One’s a couple miles down the road.” “Let’s hurry,” says Axle, telling Jeremy, “We’ll be right back.”
Butch drives his lime-green Gremlin onto the freeway, and a couple of exits down, traffic comes to a near-standstill. Butch, whistling, creeps slowly forward. Axle cranes his neck, trying to see what the holdup is. Butch fumbles with the radio, and over the airwaves comes a report of a gas spill on Highway XX, the same road they’re on. Axle sees a man walking toward them on the shoulder of the road. He’s pale, blond, and dressed in a white t-shirt, pants, and shoes. The radio starts playing “Cold Sweat,” and Axle quickly shuts it off. [John: “See, I told you I shouldn’t have left.” Bill: “It would have just made it worse. Don’t worry.”] Not quickly enough, apparently, because Axle suddenly feels very sick. It’s as if the passenger compartment filled up with gasoline. (“If I’m gonna get toasted, it’d better be premium gas,” thinks Axle.) Axle passes out.
Kef stands up, walks over, and starts picking through the trash. There’s trash from all over the place here, including distant cities like Dallas and New York. “He’s a teleporter with a side-effect of littering?” she mutters. From not very far off she hears a lot of sirens. Finally, she notices that Axle’s not around. She looks out the door, and through the trees she sees a number of police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks rushing past. “Where’s Axle?” she asks Jeremy, who tells her he’d gone with Butch to check out a different warehouse. “Another warehouse? And they didn’t take me?” “You were busy.” “How long did they say they’d be gone?” “Just a few minutes. It’s just a couple miles down the road.” “Uh, down which road?” Jeremy points. “They left going that way,” the same direction all the emergency vehicles are heading, “about twenty minutes ago.”
Kef speed-dials Axle. (“Let me guess… the spark from the cell phone sets off the gasoline fumes, it all goes up in this big fireball, and I just toasted one of my friends.”) As she listens to the phone ring, she sees a big fireball go up. “Oh, no,” she groans. She looks in the warehouse office and finds a police scanner. The police aren’t sure how the explosion occurred. Kef calls out, “Jeremy…” Jeremy: “I can explain. Flame, gasoline…” Kef: “Jeremy! Axle went that way! And he’s not answering his cell phone!” “In a truck?” “In Butch’s car, I guess.” (“They took a lime-green Gremlin? It deserved to blow up.” “Oh, come on. If he’s got a Gremlin that’s actually still in working condition, it’s a museum piece.” “Yeah, but if it’s lime green…” “Well, it could be painted!”)
Regaining consciousness, Axle finds himself lying on his back, looking up at the sky. Nearby, a paramedic is working to revive Butch. The man dressed all in white is nowhere to be seen. Axle asks, “What happened? I smelled gas, and that’s all I remember.” The medic explains that there had been a spill from a gasoline tanker, and it was as if a powerful wind had carried the fumes down the line of cars on the highway, causing people to pass out. “Then some fool threw a cigarette out, right?” guesses Axle. “I guess so,” replies the medic, “because the tanker blew up.”
Axle’s cell phone indicates a missed call, so he hits callback. Kef: “Hello?” Axle: “Hello.” “How come you didn’t answer before?” “Apparently I was passed out from gas fumes.” “There was a fireball! You could see it from here!” “Yeah, and I could see it and feel it from here, too.” “Well… you shouldn’t be there!” Axle explains they were about a quarter-mile from the tanker when they were overcome by the fumes, and Butch is still very groggy.
Kef describes the man she saw in her vision. Axle says, “Yeah, he was walking toward our car, and was right next to the car about the time I passed out.” Kef: “So it was like he was bringing the fumes toward you?” Axle: “I guess so. Actually, it was like having gasoline thrown in my face.” Jeremy: “Tell the guy to take a bath!” Kef exclaims, “I understand now. It’s another gang of evil friends of Kev McGuire’s clone. I’m gonna kill him again!” Kef describes how the man had scattered trash in the warehouse. Axle recalls that the man in white was carrying one of the caps used to seal a tanker’s delivery system to prevent leaks. Kef: “So he unsealed the tanker and carried the fumes with him just because he could.” Jeremy: “And maybe blew it up.” Kef: “So why weren’t you toasted?” Axle: “I guess this Gremlin’s tougher than we thought.” But it’s very puzzling – if the fumes were so thick as to knock people out, why wasn’t everyone incinerated when the tanker went up?
Axle loads Butch into the Gremlin, turns on the emergency flashers, and carefully backs the car down the nearest on-ramp. At the warehouse, Kef assures Jeremy that the dimensional gate that was once there is still closed, “Eradicated, I hope!” [Bill: “You never know but that the next GM will need a new gate, so…” Mary: “He can open up his own! Don’t use mine that I closed!” Tom: “Stay away from our warehouse! It’s a gate-free zone.”] Jeremy: “So we have albino guy…” Kef: “Yeah, we have albino guy, who’s in Los Angeles, and he just pulled the plug on a tanker truck and passed gas all up and down the freeway.” Jeremy: “And he came here from New York and Dallas and…” Kef: “Well, his trash came here from there. Maybe that is a sign of where he’s been.” [Bill: “Well, some of it looks Chinese. You even have Euro-trash.” Mary: “He looks like Eurotrash.” Tom: “Is that kind of the same as poor white trash?” John: “Yeah, we find a mobile home in there.” Tom: “Double-wide.” Bill: “Don’t say that. I used to ride down I-30 and count the trailer parks outside Little Rock. After awhile, I got tired. No wonder tornadoes hate ‘em. They’re so easy to find.”]
When Axle arrives back at the warehouse (Butch went to get cleaned up), Kef checks him over for injuries. She can smell gasoline on him. “We need to get you a bath and a change of clothes.” Axle agrees. Kef goes on, “Unless I go to where the tanker is, I don’t have any way to follow him, I don’t think. Why he was only two miles away, and he can teleport…” Axle: “He was walking back this way, though.” Kef: “Was he smiling?” Axle: “Yeah, he was smiling.” Kef: “Okay, whoever he is, he gets off on making people sick.” Axle: “Maybe it’s the gas or whatever, but I can barely remember his face, now. I just remember him smiling.” Kef: “He has that kind of face. He’s just not particularly memorable, except for that blond hair and cheesy grin and the white clothes.” Axle: “I don’t know if he’s going to return to this warehouse, or what. He hadn’t gotten very far. It’s been almost twelve hours since he first arrived. What else is there around here that Deathwish owned?” Kef: “I imagine Steve or Blake has the list.” Jeremy: “Did anybody die in the explosion?” Axle: “I didn’t ask, but it didn’t look like it. A bunch of people were passed out and not waking up.”
Just then over the police scanner comes a report that when the tanker exploded, the driver had already gotten out, and none of the people nearest the tanker were hurt. The tanker itself is on fire, but nothing else. Kef: “So he’s here to be…” Jeremy: “Obnoxious. Draw our attention away from Dallas.” Kef: “Ya think?” Jeremy: “That’s where you saw her, and none of us are there now.” Kef: “I didn’t see this guy in any of my visions.” Axle: “There was one thing. That James Brown song came on the radio, and I reached over and shut it off, then I looked up and saw him.” Jeremy: “Did it turn off?” Axle: “I think so, yeah. I don’t remember, I passed out. I guess what we need to do is get a copy of that recording and listen to the whole song.” Kef: “Do you think there might be clues in the lyrics?” Axle: “I don’t know. I’d never heard it before.” Kef: “We don’t have to go to a record store. We just log on and download it.” Axle: “We won’t get busted or anything? I’ve heard a lot about that.” Kef: “It wasn’t me and you can’t prove it. I’ll go to a pay site.”
The LA people contact the AL people, who are sitting at the airport waiting for their plane out of Montgomery. Kef: “Did the thing that Eddie foresaw happen to you?” Paula: “Exactly.” Kef: “Oh, little Ed will be so proud.” Paula: “The entire event he saw took about a second, but to me it seemed like several, because I had a spell misfire right before the gentleman phased in. He was moving so fast that my friend didn’t even register him.” Axle: “Was he dressed in white?” Paula: “It was black.” Kef: “We have white, we have black, we have red…” Paula: “Do you think we’re dealing with some supernatural family?” Kef: “I don’t think they’re related. The woman is beautiful, Mister Trash is kind of average.” Paula: “I can’t tell you what this guy looks like. He was generating fear, and it seemed to be coming from his face, so it must have been hideous. So we have one who is beautiful, one that’s so bad-looking it instills fear, and the other one so mundane you can’t remember. Looks like we’ve got some powerful deities or meta-beings messing with our reality that we need to convince to go somewhere else.” Kef: “Well, last time this happened, it wasn’t *us* who did the convincing. It was another group of super-beings.” Paula: “Either we convince them, or they could be competing against each other. We don’t know if they’re cooperating or in rivalry. We don’t know their relationship to each other. I said ‘family’ but I was talking off the top of my head.” Jeremy: “So the guy that you saw dismember somebody in front of you…” Paula: “I was being assaulted. Actually, he came in right as somebody fired a gun point-blank at my head. He phased in and basically saved my life. But he killed five thugs in the space of thousandths of a second.” Jeremy: “How?” Paula: “I couldn’t really see the weapon. He was doing something that reminded me of some sort of martial arts move/dance, and as he did them it sliced off parts of their bodies. And he killed two of them by sheer fear. They had heart attacks.” Jeremy: “But it was all bad guys that he killed?” Paula: “All bad guys. Myself and my friend, while we were knocked out by the fear, we weren’t in danger of our lives, I don’t think. Whatever’s happened to make people more aggressive…” Jeremy: “Sounds like we’ve got War and Death. Is your guy Pestilence or Famine?” Paula: “You’re not thinking of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, are you?” Jeremy: “Well, we’ve only seen three of them so far.” Paula: “So the one that saved me was Death?” Jeremy: “And War is the woman that likes causing battle.” Paula: “So the one you encountered in LA would be what?” Jeremy: “That’s what I said. I don’t know.” [John: “The gay one.” Mary: “The metrosexual.”]
As Jeremy, Paula, and Axle continue talking, Kef happens to glance around, and amid the trash she sees a bit of paper that somehow looks out of place. She picks it up and finds a leaflet for the Reverend Jack Delphont titled “Where Will You Be At The End?” The leaflet was printed in Los Angeles. She shows it to Butch, who says, “Reverend Delphont? You don’t know about him? The biggest preacher in LA, and you don’t know of him? He’s nationally known.” Axle: “What does he look like?” Butch: “He’s a short, curly-headed guy. Wears loud suits. Real nice guy, at least that’s what I’m told. And he prays for people really well.”
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