If you don't have sunglasses, It really sucks to walk toward the setting sun. If Joe had been given any other reasonable options with his day, then he would have chosen any other direction. The council had based itself out of the statehouse in downtown Columbus so that east would be heading closer to their zone of control. Straight north would be right through the homes of all the Dublin council members and their favorite golf club. Heading to the south would put him in Hilliard. It had been a transitional neighborhood before all of the mess in the last few years. When the gang lords had locked down Broad Street and headed north, it transitioned in the wrong direction.

So, west was the direction du jour, and if he was lucky, Plain City wouldn't be unfriendly. Joe didn't know for sure, but he did know that it was the only place within a two-day walk that wasn't guaranteed to be dangerous.

Most of Ohio was flat as a griddle, so at least the walk wasn't challenging. Joe kept the pace above his average walking pace before the System and was surprised that he could keep going without breaks, even with the backpack. He didn't think they would waste some of their limited fuel reserves on one runner, but he kept his ears open for the sound of vehicles anywhere nearby.

The burnt-out husk of the Costco stood to his left as he kept moving. It was out of the way and had survived the early fuel riots that caused so much destruction. The food riots that followed later couldn't resist a target this large. It had been more than half empty before that, but the rioters had torched it once the food was gone like so many other buildings.

Joe had gone another half hour when the sun had finally dropped below the tree line in the distance. It was only about five miles to Plain City, but he didn't want to hike it in complete darkness if he could help it. It was easy to forget how dark the night was without the electric lights that were so prevalent. It was impossible to see more than a few steps ahead unless the moon was over half full.

The train tracks were up ahead, and Joe decided to keep moving and hope for the best. Most of the houses near the tracks had been abandoned, and those that were occupied weren't known for their hospitality. Joe had never gone even this far west, so he was basing this information on some very unreliable rumors.

Joe walked quickly through the collection of houses. He kept his ears open, but his head pointed straight ahead. Joe didn't know who still lived there, but he figured that there wouldn't be any trouble if he appeared confident and moved away from them. The plan either worked, or Joe finally got lucky, but he made it to the other side of the tracks and past the old lumber yard with no issues.

The sun finished setting shortly after, and the moon was not bright in the sky. Joe didn't want to bed down on the side of the road, so he decided to keep going for now. He might find an abandoned house that didn't have an animal occupation if his luck held out. Even if he wasn't that lucky, he might find a shed with a solid roof and a door he could wedge closed.

The night was dark, and Joe couldn't make out a lot off the side of the road. He only had a few chemical glowsticks in the pack and didn't want to light one up right away. He would stick out like a sore thumb for anyone within a couple of miles on a night this dark.

A small cherry-red light flashed into existence in the corner of Joe's vision. It was gone just as quickly, leaving him wondering if he had just hallucinated it. The wind shifted, and he smelled a cigarette's smoke faintly drifting towards him. Joe froze and stared towards where he initially saw the light. There was nothing for a minute, and then it appeared again.

Joe's eyes managed to pick out a house in the faint moonlight. The cigarette had glowed from somewhere on the porch. Joe didn't know that whoever it was had spotted him or if they were hostile, but it was best to play it safe. Trust was in short supply before the System came into their lives today, and there was no way it had made that deficit better.

"I'm not causing any trouble. I'm just passing through to Plain City."

As he spoke, Joe raised his hands in the air. He continued walking along the road, though he did so in a side shuffle, keeping his eyes on the house. At first, there was no response, just another tiny flare of orange light.

"It's pretty late to be traveling, and most people out this late are up to no good." An old man's voice called over from the house. It was solid and firm, despite the age, you could hear it carry. Another orange glow punctuated his sentence. "What sends you to Plain City after dark?"

Joe paused for a moment before he spoke. He continued slowly walking and debated whether a flat sprint down the road was in his best interest. Guns and bullets had gotten hard to get, but they still existed. An old man living by himself most likely had one and catching a bullet in the back while fleeing would be his luck today.

"Dublin got weird today. The messages and that rift that destroyed the hospital. Things were not going well, and I decided to get out of town. I don't have much, and you'll never see me again if you let me go on my way. I promise."

There was a pause and another drag on the cigarette before the man spoke again.

"Weird is an understatement today. You don't have to keep shuffling away. I'm not going to hurt you, boy. If you want a dry place to sleep, you can crash here on the porch. I'd invite you inside, but I don't think we know each other well enough for that."

There wasn't any malice in his voice, but Joe was still hesitant. This was the kind of situation he wanted to avoid, but he did not relish the idea of camping out under a pine tree if he could find one. There wasn't much down this road except some farmhouses and a funeral home, and neither of those felt like a good idea.

"I'm coming over. I'll move slow and stay at the other end of the porch, so we both feel more comfortable." Joe slowly walked over and found a chair on the porch. He hesitated to sit for a moment but realized if the man did have a gun, there wasn't anything he could do about it. He felt faster and stronger, but it wouldn't matter all that much if a bullet hit him. Joe still couldn't see the man, but a spiraling light into the yard showed he'd flipped the cigarette butt away from the house."

"So you did the calibration thing that the messages talked about?"

Joe was caught flatfooted. Even in the suburban enclave, he assumed everyone had tried to complete the calibration. Even facing an unknown and scary situation seemed better than what promised to be certain death.

"Have you not done it? My messages had a time limit and told me anyone who didn't do it would be killed." Joe didn't even think before he blurted the words out. "There's not much time, but you can get to Dublin if you hurry. The calibration is dangerous, but it's not certain death."

"I'm seventy years old. I'm not walking into Dublin to do whatever some fiery letters tell me to do." That statement was accompanied by a dry chuckle.

"I can help you get there. If you have a cart or even a wheelbarrow, we can make it there in time. I'll tell you about it, so you're not going in blind like I did."

The man paused, and the silence hung heavy over the porch. Joe was opening his mouth when the man spoke up again.

"Tell me what the calibration is like."

It was Joe's turn to pause and think. He didn't want to make it sound too bad and scare the man off, but lying about something that dangerous didn't sit right with him.

"It wasn't good. You go into a fiery hole in the air and have to fight. There are ugly little goblin things in every room and challenges for crafting and magic as well. I tried my luck with an extra combat challenge, and it almost killed me. I didn't get a good look at the camp around the exit, but there were a lot of people that had that thousand-yard stare."

"What's your name?"

"Joseph, sir. My family calls me Joe. You can call me either."

"Joe, I don't want to fight for my life inside some fiery alien hole. I'm tired. Normally I'd be asleep by now and never noticed you passing, but I was up saying goodbye. I've got my last couple of cigarettes and a bit of bourbon I've been hoarding. I intended to spend the night remembering and praying before seeing my Barbara in the morning."

"Sir..." Joe began to speak, but he was cut off.

"It's Jacob. I don't go by Jake. I've always preferred the full name."

Jacob," Joe began again, "If we don't get you there, you won't see anyone again, much less Barbara. I don't know if I can go in again, but I'll give you all the information I can while we go. If you have any weapons, I think you can do it."

"You missed the point, Joe. Barbara is my wife, and she passed eight years ago. I'm tired of this world. It's gotten cold and mean, and I'm ready to go home." Jacob's voice wavered a tiny bit at the end, and it was heavy with regret and thick with some unshed tears. Joe knew how he felt. Jacob cleared his throat and continued. "Joe, you don't know me from Adam, but would you talk with an old man for a while? I feel ready, but I suddenly don't feel like being alone."

"Sure, Jacob. I can do that."

Joe and Jacob talked for hours. Jacob asked for Joe's story from the last couple of years, and for the first time, he could remember, Joe told it with no holding back. He described how helpless he felt when his family was taken. The years of trying to keep the home together and keep himself fed. The horrible, shattered feeling when an unfeeling message told him his family was dead and he would be next if he didn't obey.

Jacob was alone and had been since his wife died. His children had both moved south, and after the 1% disappeared, accessible long-distance communication was not readily available for most people. He hoped they were doing well and prayed for them every day.

Joe described the rift and the combat. He described the council and decided to be honest about skipping town with his money and information.

"I don't blame you there. That council isn't all bad, but they damn sure aren't very good. If you weren't the first, they'd know you spent the money on something and wouldn't let you go." Jacob's voice was gruff and stern when he spoke about the council. Joe guessed he'd had a run-in with them at some point. "So, what will you do know?"

"I only thought to get to Plain City. I haven't been out that way since my gasoline for the bike ran out, but I thought with all the farms that I might find somewhere to get some work and stay away from the trouble in Dublin."

Jacob grunted noncommittally. There was a rustle as he fired up another cigarette and took a drag. He took a swig from the bottle near his chair before speaking again.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Joe. My messages don't point towards Dublin. It points towards Plain City. There aren't as many of them, but some council folks set up shop at the old bowling alley. I don't know what's happening there any more than you, but it won't be free of this mess. Based on what you've said, I don't think anywhere will be."

Deep down, Joe had worried about that. He'd hoped it would be a clean getaway, but he had always suspected it wouldn't be that easy. His thoughts chased themselves back and forth before he noticed the beginning of light staining the eastern sky. Joe didn't have the timer anymore, but he was sure that it wouldn't be much longer until they all ran out.

Jacob noticed the light a minute later and grunted. "It won't be much longer now. The timer went away about an hour ago. I think they gave up on me." He barked a humorless laugh at this thought. "I appreciate you keeping me company. It's meant more to me than you know. If I could ask you for a favor, don't leave me on the porch. I've got a hole dug out back. It's not the churchyard with Barbara, but it's the best I could do with a day's notice."

Joe didn't answer at first. A few tears traced their way down his dusty cheeks, and he was having trouble speaking around the know in his throat. "I'll make sure of it, Jacob. Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"

"Just take care of yourself, Joe. You're welcome to anything in the house. Just lock it up when you're done. I know it's silly to think about that now, but I don't want it just to sit open."

"You got it, Jacob. Say Hi to Barbara for me."

Joe could finally see the other man as the light crested the horizon. He was a tall man and looked like he used to be powerfully built. His skin loosened slightly from weight loss but was still a healthy color like coffee with cream. Joe would have guessed he was fifty rather than seventy if he had met him on the street.

Jacob nodded and stiffened suddenly. Orange light flashed out of both eyes before the older man slumped over. Just that fast, Jacob was gone. The suddenness left Joe stunned for a moment, and then he cried. He had known Jacob a few hours, but its senselessness all caught up to him. He cried for Jacob. He cried for his family, and he shed a few tears for himself as well. He stood up and moved over to the old man when he was done.

The body wasn't as heavy as Joe had expected, and he managed to get to the hole in the backyard without major difficulty. He placed Jacob in the grave as gently as he could before grabbing the shovel and slowly covering him with dirt. He stared at the earth when he finished.

"I hope you see her, Jacob."

The front door to the house was unlocked, and Joe took his bag in when he went. There was a living room right off the entrance with an old couch. It felt wrong to sleep in Jacob's bed, so Joe shut and locked the door before curling up and falling asleep almost immediately. He'd been awake for almost a whole day with more craziness than he would have ever thought possible. He was done, and the future was tomorrow Joe's problem.