EPISODE 7

“Something Old, Something New”

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

DOV:

And welcome back to Kandel Against the Dark. Okay, so now that we've all had a moment to decompress a little from, uh, Jack's description of the terrible circumstances of his wife's death, I think we can press ahead.

Uh, Orson, now that...that Jack has finally, truly lost ‘Scilla, um...where could he possibly go from here? When when we last left him, he was speeding out of town, um, fleeing what he felt was was some kind of unseen, uh, force that was pursuing him. But where does one go, uh, in a world that has seemingly been overrun by the the Mater System and its...it's influences?

ORSON:

Uh, yes, uh, I think that's a really good question. “Away” seems to be the only answer that he had in that moment. But, um, as we pick up with him again, we'll hear that, uh, that once the panic of the situation subsides, uh, these these larger questions of “what now”, uh, really start to bubble to the surface for him. So I think we'll, uh, we'll let him tell us what was on his mind in the, uh, immediate aftermath of this, massive loss that he's just endured.

DOV:

Okay.

[TAPE CLI CK]

JACK:

Okay. We are almost there. Almost to the end -- or at least the end of everything that's come before now. There's just a few more things I need to tell you, and then you'll be all caught up. You'll know everything I know. And I guess after that, we'll be in new, uncharted territory together.

The moment I left my life behind, the moment I crossed the bridge out of town, I was swallowed whole by a massive bank of fog. And just like that, the entire world seemed to immediately fade into near nothingness. My whole existence had instantly shrunk down to a few dozen feet on all sides, limited only to what could be reached by the glow of my headlamps. And that light wrapped me up nice and tight inside its isolated little bubble. My own private universe.

And inside that space, devoid of distraction, my mind had nothing left to do but relive the trauma I had just endured. To replay it all -- all the panic, all the terror, all of the grief. It all came to me in stabbing, gut-wrenching flashes that made me feel like I was going to explode. And I cried. I sobbed until I couldn't breathe. I screamed into the void and demanded, from a God I don't even believe in, that ‘Scilla be returned to me, for her to be restored and protected from all this.

But predictably, those demands went unanswered. And so I just drove. I aimlessly sped through the haze, just waiting for something -- anything -- to happen. For the world to finally end. For my pain to finally end. For this whole fucking nightmare to finally be over.

You know, I don't have much practice coping with feelings like sadness or grief. And if you've been listening, you know exactly why. Crying is especially new to me. Before all this, I had never actually cried -- about anything. Except maybe when I was a baby. But even then, I'm told I was an unusually placid child. By the time I was a toddler, my parents knew that there was something very different about me, and that worried them a lot. So much so that doctors were consulted and tests were administered over multiple years. But no diagnosis was ever given because, as my own teenage research had revealed, there isn't really a word for the way that I was. So instead I was just labeled “abnormal”.

But I have to say, as concerning as my lack of discontentment was to those responsible for my well-being -- which is loaded with irony -- it never actually caused me any real trouble. Quite the contrary, actually. Once I figured out how to navigate the quote/unquote normal world, life was largely a breeze.

But that's all changed now.

It seems I've been cured of my little “quirk”, because I am full of discontent these days -- overflowing with it. And I have to wonder, was this really what my parents wanted for me? I mean, I know they meant well, but I don't think normality was ever the right target. Because normal, as it turns out, is where the trouble lies -- with all these feelings. With all these human desires. With all this suffering.

And I have to be honest, I think I rather preferred the way I was before -- the way I was before Priscilla's infidelity triggered this cascade of humanness inside of me. Before my life -- along with everyone else's, I'm assuming -- came to a horrible end. Because this is absolute torture. I don't know how anyone ever lived like this. I mean, it's pretty clear to me now that what we call the human condition has never been anything less than a complete horror show. It's oppressive. It's painful -- tyrannical, really. And in the end, it was also our downfall. That constant state of dissatisfaction and suffering and the obsessive quest to counter it. More success. More stuff. More love. More pleasure. More ways to drown out the pain of existence. Just more and more and more, no matter the cost.

And you know, it isn't even anybody's fault either. They couldn't help it. It's the way they were made. The way I've been remade. So I guess, in a way, what's happening is really just more of the same. I don't know, maybe this was always humanity's inevitable conclusion.

Anyway, I don't know how long I was driving, how many hours or days I spent surrounded by that nothingness. There was no frame of reference for me to judge. Like I said, there's been no sign of the sun in what feels like an impossibly long time. So in the end, I have no idea if it's time itself or just my perception of it that's bending and twisting in on itself. Another mystery in all this. You know, not that it particularly matters to me when it's all said and done. It's not like I'm expected home for dinner. Besides, there's no one left to go home to, is there?

And that actually is a realization that finally sunk in on my drive. The fact that I'm likely all that's left, that I'm just talking to myself on these tapes. I mean, it seems like a fair assumption knowing what the Nodes were doing to people. And I've got to tell you, “Last Man on Earth” was not an honor I sought, nor an office I wish to hold. In fact, I'm interviewing replacements. Interested? Consider this your job description. Yeah, I didn't think so.

But you should really reconsider, because you would certainly bring a lot more integrity to the role than I have. I've set the bar pretty low on that one. I'm an easy act to follow. Because I am the guy who abandoned his dying wife. And while it's true that I have no memory of it, that doesn't really matter, because clearly I ran. I ran to protect myself while my wife was on the floor of our laundry room, helpless. I left her screaming as she was being decimated by whatever twisted version of her offspring came out of her. Yeah, for all my talk of being there for her till the end, when it really came down to it, I ran. And I will never forgive myself for that. Nor should I. And neither should you.

The truth is, I would like to die. I would. Why not? What's left? But I don't have the drive. Or maybe it's the courage to actually do it. To end it. And that right there is just another bit of built in programing. Survival instinct. Survive and propagate. It all seems so futile at this point, but some base part of me won't let me just commit to that fact with any kind of action. But I guess that's really nothing new for me. Even back when I lacked desire for almost everything, the one specific to survival has always been the glaring exception. In fact, up until I met ‘Scilla my only meaning in life seemed to be to continue it. And now that she's gone, I guess I've defaulted back to my fundamental baseline.

But there's something else driving me now, too: a need for answers. Or I guess, just one, really. Because I have come to realize that, in the end, there are plenty of questions I don't really care if I ever have the answers to. It doesn't actually matter to me if the Sun disappeared or what time is doing, and it isn't particularly important to me “how” any of this happened either. I don't care about the mechanics of it all. I don't care about how the Mater or the Nodes work, or what exactly crawled out from inside of them. I don't care. Because none of that is what actually matters, at least not to me.

All of these how questions are just distractions, poor substitutes, easier questions to ask than the only one I'm actually completely terrified to ask -- because I can't bear to have it go unanswered. The question of “why”. Why were we chosen? Why was this life taken from her? Why did they do this to her body? Why was she taken from me?

Why?

If there's a plan, there's a reason. And there clearly is a plan. And I'm obviously integral to it. That much I am completely convinced of. And if you're wondering why I'm so adamant about that, I think that once I tell you what happened next, once I tell you what I found, my reasons will become pretty clear.

So with that, back to the fog and my experience inside of it. I say I felt isolated and alone as I tunneled along through that haze, but that's not entirely true. Because I eventually realized that blankness all around me wasn't as empty as it first seemed. There was clearly something hiding inside of it. I don't know what they were exactly. All I could make out were these occasional diffuse points of that now familiar blue light swimming through the cloudiness all around my automo. It seemed reasonable to assume that what I was seeing was probably more of whatever had scurried from Gar’s Node -- that and/or things like the monstrosity I'd seen emerge from my wife. And while I can't say for certain that that's what they were, I was keenly aware that the world now had some new inhabitants. And if they were either of those things, I'll say this: They’d grown. A lot. Because most had to be at least twenty feet in the air, and the glow they produced suggested something far more massive than what I'd already seen. And at this point, I wasn't really sure if I was being chased or escorted by whatever they were. I guess it was also entirely possible they were just as disinterested in me as the bugs in Gar’s basement. I just didn't know. But I can tell you this: that pesky survival instinct I mentioned earlier meant I had no interest in finding out the answer.

But if I'm totally honest, I think a part of me hoped that my self-protective instinct would just end up moot. That they'd just attack, removing any agency for me and finally putting an end to all this. But they didn't, because that clearly wasn't part of the plan. But of course, I didn't know any of that yet. Because I hadn't yet figured out that they had a plan for me.

I just kept driving -- driving, and ruminating -- in what felt like an eternal limbo of relentless nothingness. But then something finally appeared to break up the sameness of it all. A giant swath of illuminated fog materialized in front of me, growing brighter and larger as I approached it -- ambient light from...something. And as I got closer, the thought occurred to me that this light, this glow, might be something dangerous. That maybe it was actually being emitted by some gargantuan version of whatever I'd been seeing all around me. That maybe this light was like the lure of an anglerfish drawing me into its maw. I could feel my nervous system rebelling against me, but I just gripped the wheel and kept on going anyway. Because whatever was ahead, it was something new, at least. Something to rescue me from the torture of my own thoughts.

And once I was fully surrounded by that glow, everything came into much sharper relief. The fog opened up just enough to accommodate what was producing the light. It was like I'd washed up on the shores of a little island in that awful sea of emptiness. And that's when I was able to see that the source of this glow wasn't a single light at all. It was actually many smaller lights stood up on poles. Poles planted in the asphalt of an automo park. And at one edge of this black pitch, there was a huge box of a building with a big yellow sign affixed to its front. And once I could make that out, I knew exactly where I was. And in that moment, it occurred to me that, in a way, I had actually come full circle in my journey. I had come back around to where I'd first witnessed the beginnings of all of this. The beginning of the end. I had come back to Awlmart.

And I will tell you what happened next, but first I need a break. So stay tuned.

ORSON:

Okay.

DOV:

Um-hum.

ORSON:

So at this point we are where we were when I first introduced this story, and that... several months ago when I read the book excerpt. But in the interest of giving the listeners the full experience of everything, I think that we should go through that and let them kind of hear that portion of it, specifically from Jack’s, uh, in Jack’s own...own words.

DOV:

Yeah, that sounds great. And I will, uh...let's...let's take a quick station break. I'll let you look for, uh, you can cue up that portion that references the earlier excerpt from the book, and, uh, we'll be back in just a few moments and we'll hear that.

ORSON:

Great. Alright, thank you.

[THEME SONG PLAYING]

DOV:

And we are back with more Kandel Against the Dark.

Now let's just dive right back in. Uh, we are picking up with Jack, uh, having come full circle, as he puts it. Uh, he finds himself once again at an Awlmart -- uh, the very place where he witnessed, uh, for the first time, the power of the Mater Nodes.

ORSON:

Uh yes, that's exactly right. Uh, and rather than spending a lot of time, uh, setting things up, I think we should just, uh, hit play him and let Jack speak for himself.

DOV:

Let's do.

[TAPE CLICK]

JACK:

Alright, so I found myself back at Awlmart. It wasn’t our Awlmart, the one in our town, but it was an Awlmart. So for all intents and purposes, it may as well have been ours. Everything was identical, even down to the automo park. And for the briefest of moments, I actually felt a ripple of relief make its way through my body. It was this sudden feeling of a kind of comfort and safety. I think just because it was finally something familiar, you know, something I recognized as being from my life -- or at least a life I used to have. It may have also been partially because, for the first time since I crossed the bridge out of town, the world finally seemed larger than the size of my own head.

And as I pushed open my automo door and stepped out, I remember thinking that it felt like old times. It's sad, really, that Awlmart had suddenly become my touchstone. You know, this representative of an entire way of life now extinct. But again, given the general disposition of the human race, maybe there was a bit of poetry in it, as cynical as that sounds. But I think I've earned the right to be a little cynical at this point.

Anyway, Awlmart definitely wasn't the sole holdover from my personal life I would have chosen, because we all know who I would have nominated for that. But it's the one I got, and I was going to make the most of it. “Any port in a storm”, as they say. There was food and water inside. And my little reprieve, that sense of comfort I'd been feeling, was enough for my brain to register that it had been a long time since I'd had either of those things.

But I got to tell you, as I approached the sliding doors at the entrance to that store, all of that relief I had been feeling was immediately snuffed out. All of the lights -- all of them -- those in the park and those in the store itself, went dark at the same time. And that stopped me in my tracks. I wasn't sure why it had happened exactly, but it felt ominous. I considered turning around and climbing back into the automo, but I dreaded the idea of returning to that fog so quickly. You know, at the time, whatever had caused that blackout seemed a lot less threatening than a psychological torture of that mist, so I kept going.

I had to pry the doors open, but once I could get my fingers in the gap, they were relatively easy to slide apart. And once I had, I was instantly hit with that same putrid smell of rot and decay I had experienced in Gar's mansion. So clearly this wasn't the first time the power had been out. And judging by the smell, it had been out a lot more than it had been on.

But nonetheless, it had conveniently found its way to being on just long enough for me to find it. I mean, I suppose it's possible that my happening upon the store while the lights were on was just an incredible coincidence. You know, a fluke with no real meaning behind it. But it was also equally possible that my passing theory of the lights acting as a kind of lure was a lot more spot on than I originally thought. And looking at it now, knowing what I know now, I think the latter is probably the actual truth of it.

Anyway, it wasn't completely dark inside. The power outage had triggered the emergency lights, which I was grateful for. But I have to say, they weren't really doing much. They provided just enough ambient light to avoid running face-first and anything. So I guess whatever battery backup they were on was clearly on its last legs.

But thankfully, I didn't have to wander long before I stumbled on an end cap dedicated to storm preparedness. A nice little collection of slickers and folding knives and flint flickers and emergency radios, and the exact thing I needed: e-torches. There were two kinds available the cheaper plastic kind and the more heavy duty metal Mech-Lite style. And I don't know what it was, I guess just habit, but I caught myself checking the prices for each, looking for the better deal.

And when I realized how ridiculous that was, I let out a little laugh. It wasn't all that loud, but in the silence of that empty store, it was loud enough that I felt vulnerable after doing it -- like I’d just announced my presence. And that feeling wasn't eased at all by the fact that it was immediately followed by a strange little set of clicking sounds coming from somewhere deeper in the store. And that definitely put me on edge, even as I was trying to reassure myself that it was probably just something settling on a shelf somewhere.

So I made use of a nearby pack of energy cells, which I popped open with the help of one of the folding knives, and I got a Mech-Lite up and running as fast as I possibly could. And that added light did give me at least a little more of a sense of security -- but not so much that I didn't keep hold of that knife. I gripped it in my hand until my knuckles were white, and then I continued my search.

And the further into the bowels of the store I wandered, the more like bowels they started to smell. Well, not exactly. It wasn't a shit smell this time, thank God. It was more like the smell of a dead rat slowly decaying inside your walls -- the smell of death. I had ventured in in search of food and water, but once I was in there, I had squarely lost my appetite. The stench had made pretty quick work of that. So suddenly, I just found myself standing in the middle of a darkened store, the current inhabitants of which were completely unknown, armed with nothing but a Mech-Lite, a pocket knife, and no real reason to be there anymore. And given the unsettling clicks I'd heard, I was strongly considering heading for the door. But then I reminded myself that eventually, once I was free of all of the aerosolized food particles and who knows what else, I'd regret not having grabbed what I came for. So again, I pressed on.

Given the spoilage of all the fresh foods, I was limited to the pre-packed stuff. So I ended up grabbing a few boxes of granola bars and as many bottled waters as I could manage. But it was cumbersome. Trying to carry all that while keeping the beam of my e-torch pointed out in front of me. And I was doing my best, but it wasn't long before the inevitable happened. One of the water bottles jostled loose and it slid out of my arms. And once that went, the whole load started slipping. I tried my best to catch what was falling, but it had become this little unstoppable avalanche, and before I knew it everything was crashing against the floor -- the exact kind of ruckus I was desperately trying to avoid. And that is when I lost hold of the Mech-Lite. It was like it was falling in slow motion. Absolute panic set in as I watched it descend toward the floor. In a last ditch effort to break its fall, I stuck my foot out, but all I managed to do with that was kick it away from me, sending it bouncing and then rolling -- loudly -- before it slammed into the base of one of the shelves with another huge clunk.

This was not going well. And by the way, I don't remember what the price was on that Mech-Lite, but whatever it was it was too much. Because the impact with the floor had broken it. So suddenly, once again, all I had was the faint, failing glow of the emergency lights to see by. And I froze. I didn't even want to breathe. I just stood there, half hunched, clutching the few granola boxes I was actually able to hold on to. And I listened. I was convinced I had just made a fatal error. Those clicks had largely only set me on edge, but after this blunder my fear would no longer allow me to even consider the possibility I was alone in that store. I was positive I had just invited some unknown predator over for an easy meal.

But then nothing happened. Thankfully, all of my fumbling was met with total silence, no indication that I had disturbed or alerted anything at all. Still, I wasn't going to take any chances going forward. I realized I needed to find something to put everything inside, something that would make it all easier to carry. So I figured it was probably wise to just set down what I still had in my arms, as quietly as possible, and go look for a receptacle. And I also decided not to risk the extra time it would take to go back for another disappointingly flimsy Mech-Lite. And besides, I was starting to think that the light probably wasn't a good idea anyway. You know, if there was someone or something in there with me, an e-torch would have given up my position immediately. So instead, I was forced to just wander around in the dark some more.

But fortunately, I only had to go one aisle over before I came across the luggage and briefcase section. So finally, a hint of luck. I immediately gravitated to one made of a sturdy-looking metal. The tag on it said it was titanium, was waterproof, and was as strong as steel at half the weight. And it was probably overkill, but at the time, given my fear, that tank of a case was nothing short of perfect in my mind. So I was feeling pretty good about my little turn and fortunes. You know, things were finally starting to look up for a second.

But as has consistently been the case with every little victory I've experienced lately, something else managed to come along and spoil the moment. I can't really logically explain what happened next. But I guess that really shouldn't come as any great surprise. I mean, it's kind of par for the course these days. But it's not just that it didn't make any logical sense, it's that it's hard to describe in any way at all. I was making my way back toward my food stash, moving as quickly and quietly as I could, but I didn't make it very far before a brilliant flash of light stunned me and stopped me cold. And it also came with a stabbing pain at the top of my head. At first I thought I'd slammed into something in the dark, but there was nothing there. And then I realized my feet just...wouldn't move anymore. You know, like I had lost all conscious control of them. And no matter how hard I willed them, they would not budge.

And from there, things just got worse. I suddenly felt a deeply invasive sensation. I'd actually felt that before in the demo tent, at that other Awlmart, in that other life I used to have. Like my brain was being hijacked, invaded by some foreign consciousness. Only this time that consciousness was aggressively ramming an image into my mind's eye: a tiny flashing red light surrounded by darkness. It had no context, no clarity. It was just a light that seemed to be silently screaming at me with every cycle of its steady pulse. And that unrelenting sight triggered something deep down inside of me. An uncontrollable urge. An overwhelming, compulsive need. I didn't know why, but in some primitive part of my mind, it suddenly became absolutely necessary for me to immediately seek out and hold that little flashing light in my hands. And as much as I tried to dismiss that urge, it refused to be ignored. It was like I'd become an automaton. My feet started to move on their own -- despite my efforts to stop them. Every part of my rational brain was screaming to go the other way, to collect my granola and my water and escape back into the fog. But I couldn't. And I didn't.

Instead, I ventured deeper into the darkness at the center of the store, further in where the emergency lights couldn't reach. And as I walked, it was like there was a map revealing itself to me in my head. You know, like the images you'd see if someone asked you to describe your daily commute. You know, something your brain knows by rote and can conjure at a moment's notice. And I have no explanation for this automatic knowledge. But it was there, acting as my demanding guide, ushering me along through that web of aisles, telling me where to turn and reassuring me that I was almost there. And through all of it, the sense of that light, the seductive sight of it, never abated.

And I could feel my feet falling into rhythm with its flashing, like I was tied to it, and nothing was going to stop me from finding it. So I wasn't surprised at all when I rounded the last corner and finally laid physical eyes on it, because I'd already been shown exactly where it was. But what did wholly surprise me was the revelation of what it was. It was a tape recorder. This recorder. The one I'm making this tape with now.

So yeah, at this point you're probably getting a little clearer of a picture as to why I've come to realize that there's some kind of specific plan for me. Because the way I found this recorder certainly seems to suggest exactly that. But I haven't even told you everything yet. There's more. Because this isn't just any recorder.

The first thing I noticed about it was that it was my brand. I have one exactly like it tucked away in my desk drawer back home. But it wasn't just that it was my brand, because the next thing I noticed was a scratch on the tape window -- a scratch with the same exact look and dimensions as the one I had accidentally made on mine. I already knew before I even turned it over, but there was no room for doubt once I saw the little black label on its backside -- the one I had made and stuck to it when I first bought it. The one with my name punched into it. This isn't just any recorder. This is my recorder. The actual one. The recorder that is, like I said, as far as I know, still tucked away in a desk drawer back home. But somehow it is also simultaneously here in front of me now. And apparently it had just been inexplicably sitting on a shelf in some random Awlmart, very, very far from home, impatiently waiting for me to find it. And in that moment, I finally had. Another “how” question I'll never have the answer to, I guess.

But one thing I was sure of in that moment was that I had to take that recorder. I didn't know why, but I knew I had to. So I popped open my shiny new briefcase and I tucked it inside. And I also grabbed a pack of hydrosalt cells, because I knew that that red blinking light was the energy cell indicator warning me that they were about to fail. And I grabbed a pack of tapes, too. These tapes.

Then I latched the lid on the case and I started back toward my food. But whoever is behind all of this wasn't quite done with their little magic trick just yet. I still had a few strings left to pull, and they didn't hesitate to start yanking. Whatever map I had had in my head to get me to where I was...it wasn't there anymore. I had no idea where I'd left my food. And this meant I had to wander yet again, just hoping that I'd stumbled back on my stash.

Like I said at the start of these tapes, it's always an expedition going to an Awlmart; you never know where you might find what you're looking for. Anyway, as I made my way through the aisles, I had actually all but forgotten about my fear that I wasn't alone. You know, the shock of finding the recorder and kind of put my mind on a different track. My gears were turning on other things, just trying to divine what exactly all of this meant. And I was frustrated. I felt like I had looked everywhere, and I still hadn't found my damn food.

And then something else caught my eye: a pale glow emanating from something on a shelf up ahead. And just like the recorder, once I had this thing in my hands, I immediately knew it wasn't just some random thing I had happened upon. It was clearly something specifically placed, something strategically left there for me to find. But unlike the recorder, this item wasn't something I already owned. No, I had lost interest long before this thing was manufactured and released. But apparently it had been decided I was going to own it now.

I recognized it for what it was immediately. It was music. A polyvinyl box set, to be exact. A box set retrospective for the band Æ.S.C. My Æ.S.C. And there was something else. Something even I can't fully bring myself to believe. The glow I had seen -- the one that caught my eye -- was coming from one specific part of the band's photo on the cover: a flawless, milky orb hovering over the outstretched hand of the frontman, the one they called Te’in The Prophet. I had seen this photo a million times before. I even had a poster of it on my dorm room wall. But now I was seeing it in a whole new light. I was seeing it in the context of all of this. And I suppose I could just chalk this up to being some kind of insane coincidence. You know, maybe I could say that an ocult themed band using a widely recognized trope like a crystal ball isn't indicative of anything. And I could also argue that the light it emitted can very easily be explained by the use of some kind of glow-in-the-dark ink.

Yeah, I could say these things. And I'd be right on some level. But let's be honest, that seems pretty fucking naive at this point -- that or willfully ignorant. I'd have to be a fool not to recognize the glaring synchronicity at play. And I don't know what I should be taking away from all this exactly, but what I do know is that this isn't just some bizarre coincidence. Because, like I keep saying, it seems pretty clear that none of this -- none of what has happened -- is by accident.

Anyway, I wasn't going to leave that album behind, and when I took a step back to set the briefcase on the floor to open it, my foot came down on something with a sickening crunch. It sounded like something paradoxically wet and dry at the same time. And I wish I wouldn't look to see what it was, but I did. The emergency lights were just strong enough to make out its shape. It was human. And there was a deep valley in its skull where my foot had just been. And that was upsetting enough, but it got even worse when I realized what was resting in the palm of that corpse's hand: a jet black, shattered Node. I knew instantly what had probably crawled out from inside of it, and suddenly I was very aware again of the fear that I wasn't alone in that store.

I immediately raised my head to survey my surroundings for any threats. And that is when I noticed what was on the shelves in front of me. I wasn't in the music section like you'd expect. No, that album had been left for me among rows and rows of little black cube-shaped boxes. Boxes I immediately recognized as being from Mater Nodes.

And almost as if on cue, each of those perfect little packages started to jostle and vibrate on the shelf as the light of their contents seeped out from whatever tiny gaps it could find in the cardboard. And then I heard that clicking again. But this time it was louder, and it sounded like it was coming from multiple spots in the store at the same time. And even worse, it was accelerating. There was no doubt in my mind anymore that I wasn't alone. I frantically whip my head around, looking for any possible sources, and I was not disappointed. From somewhere deep in the darkness, a light much larger than the Nodes was staring back at me. And from that same general direction, that clicking was getting louder -- closer. And then another light appeared next to that one, this one connected to a deafening shriek -- like a starving beast finally sensing prey. And then another light. And another. And another. I tucked the album under my arm, snapped up my briefcase, and I ran.

And after that, everything was just a blur of chaos. I could hear shelves and merchandise cascading to the floor behind me. I didn't think I was going to make it out of that store. But I did. I raced to my automo and dove inside like I was some kind of action star. But unlike those guys, I had to frantically fumble for my keys. Thankfully, I found them pretty quickly and I was across that automopark and back into the fog only seconds after that -- safe for the moment, in the same haze I had gone into that Awlmart to escape. Context is everything, I guess.

You know, thinking about it now, I don't think I was ever in any real danger in that store. Like I said, there's a plan, and whatever those things were, they were put there. Just like this record and that album were. I think they were there to push me, to force me onward to the next phase of whatever it is they want from me. And knowing that, I feel kind of silly about how absolutely terrified I was. You know, especially for someone who doesn't even have any real desire to go on living anyway. But that kind of clarity is only possible in hindsight. You know, now that my body is an amped up on fear and adrenaline.

So anyway, that is what happened at Awlmart. I went in because of thirst and hunger, and I left with no real solution to either. Instead, I got this recorder and an album to remind me of a time long past. So I guess I was right before. Clearly my suffering is at least part of their plan.

[TAPE CLICK]

DOV:

Wow.

ORSON:

Yes. As I said before, we wonder about the power and the reach, uh, of these things. And you think about the logistics it would take to get this tape recorder... There are so many questions here that...that, again, the “how” must escape us. The why almost looms larger. There's also the sense, though, of, uh, “the plan” of... that this has been carefully crafted to the point of...of, uh, they didn't seem to want any, uh, deviations from the norm in this plan. So they actually walked him there and put images in his head.

DOV:

It seemed so random that he ended up at this particular Awlmart. He didn't know that's where he was going. How could they have?

ORSON:

Exactly. Exactly. And it was within this fog, and that it opens up...and, all along in the in the fog, we...the team wondered about, about this fog, the alienness of it. And we were wondering if, uh, we had had, of course, the theories of the breaking through...if this might have been a passageway between worlds, possibly, if that was what this was representing. And we felt sort of like lurkers on the threshold, so to speak. You know, observing what was happening from those tapes. But he gets to this Awlmart and everything that he sees...there's no sense of anything being alien to him. And indeed, something very familiar to him is waiting here. And this gives an idea that, um, all of this -- the fog, everything -- is somehow constructed and quite intentional. And you can understand why he he moves toward this conclusion that this is a definite plan and that all of this was intended for him.

DOV:

This is far beyond happenstance at this point.

ORSON:

Absolutely.

DOV:

Well, we should probably move forward. But, before we do that, we do need to take a quick station break. So we will be back shortly with more from Kandel Against the Dark.

[THEME MUSIC]

END OF EPISODE 7