The Power Station

It was dark by the time they arrived at the power station. No one was inside. Outside, a phone marked “Call In Case Of Emergency” was lit by a single bulb above it. There hadn’t been much reason to fully staff places like this once the Breach neared a populated area. Everyone was either already gone or making plans to leave. Once the Breach arrived, there wouldn’t be anything left to power.

Vic walked up to the front door and gave it a pull. The lock crunched and the door stayed shut. He looked at the others. “How do we get in?”

Meg drifted through the doors, hovered near — or rather, in — the control panel at the front desk, and after a moment, the lock buzzed open.

Ash opened the door and walked up to Meg at the console. “You can work this?”

“Apparently.” Meg looked down the hallway. “This way.”

They entered the room at the end of the hall. Vic moved off to the side of the room and leaned against the wall, while the rest gazed at the controls like they were tourists in a museum. The space was large, but you wouldn’t know it from what you saw when you entered. Control boards with tall displays lined the path as you entered, blocking the view to the rest of the room.

“Here’s the one,” Meg moved toward one of the consoles and partially entered it. Lights on the board flickered, then turned on.

“I’ve turned on the power at the North end of town. That should slow the Breach for a while.”

Ash and Wake looked at each other, confused. “What do you mean? Why would it ‘slow it down’, and why do you know any of this?” Wake scrunched his brow.

Meg buzzed. “Hard to explain. It … follows? Electricity. And I know because I know.”

No one spoke for a moment.

Ash looked at the map board with most of the lights off, with just a few lit in the areas where people still lived.

“So,” Ash began to understand. “When people move out of town, and we shut off the power and redirect energy toward people’s new homes … the Breach follows the people?”

“Follows the electricity, yes,” Meg twisted a little. “And magic.”

“Fuck,” Wake shoved his hands into his pockets. “I wish the schoolmasters had known, might have changed things.”

“No,” Meg objected. “This was the plan.”

“What?” Wake moved toward Meg, as if ready to fight, but recognized there was nothing there to fight.

“Schoolmasters taught you to … control the direction.”

Wake felt his soul spin. “Control the direction. You mean, they were steering the Breach.” Wake started to nod, understanding. “They taught us to move Bobs through, to keep you moving, and by doing that, kept the Breach lines going where they wanted.”

“Yes.”

Ash looked pale. “Why?”

Meg spun. “I don’t know.”

Ash walked over to a far wall where a larger power grid map displayed electricity activity across the continent. Wake and Meg followed, while Vic remained at the other end of the room.

“The Unraveling started here, yes?” She pointed up toward the Northwest corner of the map. “It’s been moving Southeast this whole time, never moving directly East from the origin.”

Vic snapped into awareness. “They chose this? They chose to bring this here? To my home?” He looked at Meg as he rejoined the group. He kept expecting (hoping) to see Meg jump out of the void, and then the void would wink into a little pinhole and disappear.

Meg’s edges softened. “I don’t think they chose here, so much as they protected elsewhere.” Meg spun a little extra now, thinking (remembering). “They … they knew it will end. They bought time.”

“Time for them,” Vic was almost yelling.

“Time,” Meg said, softening.

“Fuck,” Wake said again. He looked at the board. “Why not just leave the power on in one place, let it chew on itself forever?”

“Because,” Ash said, understanding. “Eventually, the Breach takes down a whole grid. It has to keep moving.”

“Fuck,” Wake said a third time. He looked at the board for a moment, but there was nothing useful there to see anymore.

He turned to leave when something on one of the desks caught his eye.

He picked up a small figurine from the desk. A little gargoyle.

His little gargoyle.

He picked up the statue. “Fuuuck.”

“What is that?” Vic looked closer, confused and more than a bit exasperated.

“This,” Wake rotated the gargoyle in his hands, “turned to dust in my hands a few hours ago.”

“This exact one?” Ash grabbed the statue, inspecting it from every side. “No way.”

“See right there?” He pointed to a scratch that ran from the left ear around to the right shoulder. “That’s from that one drive two winters ago.”

Ash ran her finger along the crack. She remembered how Wake had been sure the little guy would be fine sitting on the floor of the car. It had not been fine.

Ash handed the statue back to Wake. “What is it doing here? How is it here??”

“I don’t know,” Wake rubbed his forehead, “but I feel dizzy. Glad I brought that water,” he said with a smirk, and started walking toward the car.