The Voice
The Voice Joeflashes on the high-beams, refictinglight offmetal. That’s when the disease catches up with Gregor again. The trees becoming luminous, and suddenly, there’s a lot more of them outside the windav than there used to be. The truck isn’t even on a road any m e , just a long shining path leading off to the horizon.
The world is suddenly full of patterns. G r e w sees the road is paved in sp& webs, telephone wires puling to the horizon - the Weaver. The cars are gone, replaced by speeding, luminous lights, the energy of trees by the roadside - the Wyld. The city quickly receding into the distance, its hldings pulsing dark and black with massive, c m p t tendrils - the hallmark of the Wyrm. Gregor shakes his head, trying to shake off the effects of the trip. The sickness is driving him insane; he’s hallucinating again. 0 . .
“’Scuse me, kid. We’re gonna take a little short cut. Don’t like using the damn roads much. As I get older, road rage gets a little too easy. What the hell you expect, huh, bein’ a shapechanger? Ha ha ha ha! Everyone’s getting pissed off! Even the humans are getting angrier and more violent. You can tell the End Times are approaching.. . see it in a thousand different ways.
“Don’t look at me that way. It ain’t like I’m gonna start quoting from the Book of Revelations - well, not yet. Look, I know it’s all a bit much. It’s all a lot to take in, and if it weren’t for the visions, you probably wouldn’t believe any of it. You think we’re all insane, don’t you? I had it a bit easier I guess. I was chosen long before I was infected.
“Yeah, I see that look on your face. You’ve heard the voices too, haven’t you? Did they put you on medication? Did you get that whole ‘khemical imbalance” talk? I still laugh at that one.
Those voices.. . . those were your brothers and sisters callingfor you fiom the spirit world. That was the sound of your family, trapped in the Umbra, hidden behind the velvet shadow, waiting to break free. I kinda like it. The voices and the visions go away, once you change, but until then, you better listen real close to what they tell you.”
“I thought I was losing it, too.. . until I heard the Voice. It happens to a lot of our Kinfolk, too. That’s how our family has stayed together for so long. I remember sitting in my living room, back on the farm, when I heard someone calling my name. I didn’t know where it came from, but I turned around to see who it was. There was no one in the house. There was no one within miles, but someone was calling me; clear as day.
“The spirits of the Rat God work in mysterious ways.
Before I got my Birthing Plague - collapsed in the middle of my kitchen from the fever! - I did all sorts of things for the Rat God. I knew the End Times were coming. I started stockpiling food in my basement. I bought up cases and cases of ammunition. The gun running went a little fast and loose, but I knew the day would be at hand when all Hell broke loose. ‘That wasn’t the scariest part, though. The scariest part was when I Changed.. . and found out what was really going on.
See, you’re my Kin, distantly related, and I’m taking you to meet the family. We’re all family, boy. We’ve got Kinfolk, but not like Mother’s other children. We left the world for so long that a lot of our Kin’s blood has become diluted. The blessing Ratkin of the rat blood never goes awayit liesdormant in your blood, like a disease - and one of our Kin can’t really draw upon that gift unless he starts to hear his Momma calling for him.
“When everything’s really quiet, one of our Kin might start to listen for signs of his brothers and sisters around him.
Anything might set him off. A scratching in the wall. A whuffling under the floorboards. In the middle of a dark street late at night, he may start to hear a chittering sound coming from nowhere. It’s enough to drive some people mad. That’s the idea. You’ve been hearin’ the Voice, boy. (Zhe tnb rimes “I’m sure someone’s told you about the struggle, the battle between good and evil. The Wolves seem to think that the Apocalypse is a foregone conclusion. I’m not so sure. After all, what exactly’s at stake? Will the Apocalypse mean the end of all of creation? I’m thinkin’ that maybe the “end of the world” will just mean the end of human civilization. For me, there’s nothing wrong with that. The best thing that could happen to Mother’s world is the end of the human race.
“And once the humans have been exterminated, millions of our brothers and sisters aregonna swarm over the world. No matter how much the Wyrm destroys, we are the purest form of the Wyld, and we will surge over the planet to cleanse it of evil. Pure chaos will overwhelm everything that remains. At least, that’s what I see when I dream. That’s what the Rat God whispers in my head.
“NOW I’ve got this little plot of land just outside the city.
Hasn’t got much more than a trailer and this pick-up ... and what I’ve got buried under the back yard. That’s where we’re going. That’s where you can rest up a bit. You’re family now, and we’ll take care of you.” 0 . .
The-truck comes to a stop out in the m& of Upper Butt Crack, Washington, somewhere off an access road in the eastem part of the state. There’s no point in boltingnow, not unless Gregor wanted to hide out in some barn somewhere. Might as well play along, since none of these people can be trusted anyway. Joe’s farm isn’t very impressive, just a double-wide traikr on apatch of land.
Sure enough, you can see the ‘lnaturepreserve”fiom where the truck is parked, fenced off by the government. The Ford stops on a oilsoaked stretch of asphalt. No one’s around for miles.
That’s when Gregor hears arustlingsoundabout tenfeet away, like something’s coming up out of the ground. The dirt settles as a crazed young wuman pushes up a piece of plywood fiom underground. There’s a tunnel stretching ohm under the earth. Who’s this “family” that found me, anyway? Gregor thinks. Survivalist freaks? A local militia? Some religious nuts talking about the Earth Mother and the Final Days?
The raggedy young wuman leers at him from underground.
Unfortunately, Gregor has always had a weakness for dangerous women. He can smell her name: Ariel. Like the angel. He hears a whuffling sound at the back of his mind, and the headache starts to come back. Ariel straightens her dreadlocks and looks over Gregor withelevatmeyes, scanninghimfiom top to bottom. Thenshe starts ofj with her opening line: “Shit! You look like a mess. Be careful stepping over those sacks. Fertilizer ain’t cheap these days. ”