The Attention Farm — Part 5
Series — Cal and Josiah track Winston to his last known location, and seek help from an unlikely ally against the Sigil.
Back in the glory days of blue collar, muckraker journalism, keeping tabs on a vehicle was an expensive and complicated affair. Now, trackers cost less than fifty bucks apiece, took up almost no space, and could sit for months at a time without maintenance. Surveillance on a car was as simple as slipping a credit card-sized device between the driver’s seat and the center console. For a generally suspicious, paranoid sort of person, the precaution was a no brainer.
So upon waking up to a room with no note, no keys, and no Winston, Cal simply rolled over and powered up the TrackR app on his phone. When he saw the car ping more than two dozen miles out in the desert, he called Josiah.
The pair was on the road in the shopkeeper's dusty pickup before breakfast, kicking up clouds as they sped in the direction Winston had traveled just hours before.
“I admit, I had my suspicions when I saw how quickly he learned from the Confinium. But I still have a hard time believing Winston serves the Sigil,” Josiah said. “Are you sure?”
“Not necessarily. Wherever he is, he went willingly. If he was following a lead, why not tell me? If he was taken, why didn’t his captors take me, too?”
Josiah grimaced, gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, and stared off at the horizon.
They found the Buick beneath a rock overhang just wide enough to provide shade from the sun. Someone had draped a desert camouflage tarp over the vehicle to further hide it from prying eyes.
The two men exchanged a knowing nod before checking their guns — Josiah, his 12 gauge; Cal, a snub nose revolver — and stepping into the climbing arid heat.
A sweep of the place turned up a few footprints, but no sign of recent activity.
“How about I keep watch, and you have a poke around the car,” Josiah suggested.
Cal nodded in agreement before disappearing into the vehicle. He re-emerged a few minutes later clutching a few scraps of paper, and wearing a triumphant smirk.
“Found these tucked in the sun visor. Notes from Winston.”
“You’re actually enjoying this aren’t you?”
Cal’s smile widened. “What can I say? I love a good mystery. And boy, did this plot just thicken.” He held out the papers in an outstretched hand.
Josiah slung the shotgun back over his shoulder, and read as quickly as his eyes would allow.
“So he’s what—possessed by the Sigil?” Josiah asked.
“Maybe? Seems more like he's tethered it to himself, somehow."
Josiah nodded, and flipped the page. "A change in the ritual." He squinted, pausing to re-read a line. "Interesting."
"What?"
“When Winston and I first studied the book—this was years ago, mind you—we spent a great deal of time theorizing about how one would free a Sigil, if they wanted to.”
Cal raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I gotta start keeping an eye on you too?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. My curiosity came from concern. I wanted to be sure that in our studies, we didn’t release one of these spirits accidentally. As it turns out the Signum Confinum’s creator is far more clever than I had begun to suspect. The book alone lacks the tools to free its prisoners; Winston describes this well.
"Think of the book like an ordinary door, taken from its frame. It can't open to anyplace, it doesn't lead anywhere—it's just a plank of wood. Now imagine somewhere, someplace, there's an equally mundane door frame. More of a free-standing archway, really. You can walk through it, but you won't go anywhere."
"When you combine the two, you get an actual bona fide portal to a place that doesn't exist anywhere on this planet... or our reality, for that matter."
"The Signum Confinium," Cal said.
Josiah nodded. "I assumed the book was incapable of harm, without this connection. Of course, I never considered that the Confinium knew where it was in relation to the doorway; nor that it was influencing its owners to bring it ever-closer.
"When I suspected the book was trying to lead us to a location near the outskirts of Gorham, I knew I needed to get the damn thing as far away from this place as possible." Josiah sighed, and seemed to shrink a little. "By then it was too late. Smoke—the smoke was everywhere. I didn't even realize the Confinium was gone until after... you know."
Cal leaned against the car and chewed his lip. After a few moments of thought, he said: "Winston knows about this place. If not him, then the Cult. Figure, they've got a few hours head start. You see where I'm going with this, right? If they only have to make it to Gorham..."
"Then why haven't they released Willow yet?" Josiah finished for him.
"Yeah."
"Help came a couple hours after the Madness. Just not from paramedics or police. The group that did show up, came with hazard suits and guns. They seemed real interested in figuring out why my building was the only one in town still standing. When they couldn’t coax me out, they tried breaking the door down. And when that didn’t work, they asked me to at least point them toward where the smoke had come from.
“Over the next few days, I saw them moving in one of those portable cranes. Whole bunch of 16-wheeler flat bed trailers came and went, hauling something bulky all wrapped up in tarps. They left, ‘n they took the doorway with them.”
“Well that’s got to be ARC,” Cal said. “They’ve probably got the doorway somewhere in that basement of theirs.”
“But these cult psychos have been creeping around Gorham all this time. They have to know it was taken. Might even know where.”
Cal pulled two cell phones from his pocket, inspected them both, and put one away again. “Winston’s,” he explained. “Left it in the hotel room.” Unlocking the device, Cal’s fingers flew through his former colleague’s call history. He went on: “Right before he came here, Winston met Neil Lurk—man in charge at ARC. If he picks up, we can warn him.”
Cal tapped the call button. The phone rang once… twice…
Josiah shuffled closer to look over Cal’s shoulder.
“I take it you’re not Winston.” Neil’s voice came across the phone cool and clear, cutting through a symphony of chaos playing out in the background: alarm klaxons, gunfire and the dull repeated thumping of something heavy beating against metal.
“No sir—listen: there’s very little time.”
Neil scoffed.
Cal continued: “Winston may be compromised. Group A. He’s got a group of followers bent on releasing Willow, one of the Sigils. They need an artifact you took from Gorham—some kind of doorframe or arch. We think they may be on their way to your facility. You need to lock down.”
Director Lurk let out a strained, haughty laugh. “Thank you for providing context. One small correction: Winston isn’t on his way, he’s here right now, beating down my door.”
Another metallic thud.
“How is that possible? You—you’re in a secure facility!”
“Critical mass. There’s a Sigil on site, along with a ton of Group A’s. The B’s, C’s and D’s started succumbing to the Sigil’s effects too. My staff just threw the doors wide open for Winston.”
Josiah cursed under his breath.
“Where are you now? Do you have backup?” Cal asked.
“I’m holed up in my office. Flipping through the cameras now, it looks like I’m the last man standing who hasn’t joined up with these freaks.”
“Do you have any access to security, or backup?”
“Negative. Not much I can do from here, aside from control the cameras and external feed. As for backup: any non-E Group person who shows up here will just get swept up be the Sigil, same as everyone else.”
“Mister Lurk, my name’s Josiah Paige. I studied the Sigil long before you and yours ever knew it existed. I’ve got an idea.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You say you’ve got access to the external feeds? Cameras?”
“Go on…”
Finale available now!
Thank You for Reading!
As it turns out, I couldn’t wrap this sucker up with just one more installment. The Attention Farm will be, as it seems, a six-part series. I know exactly how it ends, and I’m working on it as we speak now that the writer’s block is gone.
As soon as this story is done, I have ANOTHER series completely finished and ready to go. It’s called the “Turtle Tunnel,” and covers the plight of a new homeowner who makes a life-altering discovery while renovating his home.
While you wait, you can access the full archive by upgrading to a paid subscription.
If you don’t have the money for a paid subscription, telling a friend about me is pretty cool too. Getting your words in front of eyeballs is honestly harder than doing the actual writing and editing…