Marcus

Hyun and Kenny didn't get back to camp on the ninth and neither on the tenth day of the search.

There was a possibility that they might have gone too far from what they initially planned before they left the camp. They had talked about hiking off at least fifteen miles, hoping that it would cover enough ground to find any signs of Jacob's kidnappers. There were many reasons, so Marcus and the others gave it another day, anticipating their return before they would start looking for them, and worse, declared them missing as well.

Hyun's husband grew agitated the longer their disappearance stretched out, and he threatened to go after them, but Andy quickly reminded him that he had a child to take care of.

"I don't plan on making orphans out of three-year-olds," Andy said sternly, enough to change Blake's mind. Although, his protests grumbled well into the night, much to everyone's annoyance. He did make Marcus promise that he'd bring him south to look for his husband when they would start searching for them.

Marcus could feel the paranoia and unease rippling through the camp. Jacob was gone, and now Kenny and Hyun, too. He could read it everyone's expression, who would be next?

"What if it was the same people that took them?" Easton asked him one night around the fire. Fortunately, away from the ears of everyone.

"Keep it to yourself," Marcus told him. "I don't want to cause panic around here. Besides, we don't know if they were attacked."

"It's been two days—"

"—And they'll be here. Don't worry. It's no good when everyone's splitting their hairs over this. Let's all take a pill on this and not talk about it. There's still tomorrow."

"I admire your blind optimism."

"Are you saying Jacob is dead?"

Easton winced. "Don't twist my words—"

"—Because it seems like that's what you're implying."

"Shit, Marcus. That's not what I'm saying! I'm just tired, okay? We all are. I haven't gotten enough sleep the past week. You haven't been, too."

"I can't just sit down and be calm about this, Easton."

"But you should. Do you know how many times I wake up from you, tossing and turning around? The times you would get up and stare at the woods for hours? Shit's not normal, man. You need rest, and a good one at that."

"I can't do that. When I close my eyes, I see..." Marcus trailed off, couldn't roll the words out of his tongue. He bit his lip, holding back the well of tears clouding his eyes. "He can't be dead. Kenny and Hyun, too."

"Yeah, you're right. They're probably taking their sweet time getting back here. And who knows? They might've found Jacob. And they did mention that they found something interesting."

"Wish they would've radioed back."

Easton scoffed. "Wished they didn't walk too far out. But hey, it's not a bad idea to be cautious hiking back," Easton said, nodding, though his frown told a different matter.

Marcus let it go, nodding, and also hoping what he said was true.

"You know, Mr. Kapoor still has some melatonin supplements. Do you want me to get one for you? For the night?" Easton asked.

It was very tempting, but Marcus doubted staying longer in his dream—his nightmares—and saw Jacob in a state he would never imagine any of his children to be would be a good idea for his sanity.

He smiled, and shook his head, said, "I think Mr. Kapoor needs it more than I do."

Easton sighed. "Yeah, poor guy. I hope he feels better soon."

Malik's grandfather had worsened over the past week. He thought that Arjun's dementia might be to blame, although they had to worry about his dwindling medicine that Malik hauled from the house, and Easton tried everything he could to help the old man with what little knowledge he had for elderly care. It didn't help that Arjun was pushing well into his eighties with multiple health issues that they had to watch out for, far from the comforts of modern medical resources, and add that with the slew of nonsense he had been spouting since Jacob's disappearance, scaring off the children with violent talks of death and monsters. The melatonin made his behavior at least tolerable around the camp, awful as it was to drug up an old man.

"North is loose, and the South is forever. East is below, and West is never," Arjun would say over and over for the past week. "Fields of red, long river wide and hungry, isles of gold, plains of hell, feasts to worry and gather! We are deemed Monsters, but no. Far from the truth. Far from grace."

Mr. Kapoor didn't stay this way all week, fortunately, holding in with long stretches of his wits, being his old self, but then would have these unhinged outbursts that would take a significant effort to calm him down, taking several minutes to do.

"He's a Seer," Brett told him after Arjun had his worst episode yet on the eighth night. "Order of The Cleric, Level 10, from what he told me before he, well, you know." Brett stuck out his thumb and pointed it down.

"You telling me the guy can see the future?" Marcus asked.

Brett shrugged. "Don't know. Seers are usually the prophets in RPG fantasy games: good alignment, dex-con balance, worships deities, gaining precognitive senses, maybe a touch for religious zeals."

"English, Brett. English."

"Right. If the rules also apply here, then, yeah, Mr. Kapoor can totally see the future, maybe everything," Brett said, "though, I don't know how religious he is. Might answer some of my questions," he muttered off at the end.

"Are you sure? I mean, no one can see the future, that's obvious. Mr. Kapoor used to work as an accountant. If this world labels me a 'Warrior' because I'm a soldier, then Arjun—"

"—Has seen some shit," Brett finished. "Malik told me the old man lived through the Indian Independence, the partition, the war with Pakistan, then lost his entire family, and then immigrated to the US with barely a couple of hundred bucks in his wallet. Based on all that, this world must've judged him to be wiser than all of us for his unique life experiences alone. Therefore, a cookie-cutter Cleric. My guess? He's all in on Wisdom stats if we follow the rules."

"Your made-up, somewhat vague rules, you mean. This world's fucking with us with this RPG-horseshit. Fucking aliens."

Brett shrugged again. "I'm just telling you what I think. And don't blame my observations. I tried to keep it as understandable as possible. We gain abilities here by interacting with what's around us, so let's take advantage of it."

"Like the real world."

"We've been improving our survival skills as a group."

"And which one was that?"

"Natural Instinct."

"Ah. So tongue-in-cheek."

"I know everything seems kind of weird, but it wouldn't hurt if we learn about it. It could help us in the long run. This world marked me an Artificer and based on Merriam Webster's dictionary, or by asking your father-in-law, it's supposed to mean a skilled craftsman or an inventor, and I see myself far off from that verdict."

"Maybe the aliens are drunk or something."

"They could be judging my job as a game designer and developer, which makes sense, I guess. Or it could be a glimpse of what we will ultimately become." Brett pressed his finger to the side of his temple, grinning. "Think about that."

Though it was hard to believe at first, and ignoring Brett's willingness to go back into Dreamland and all the weird shit that came with it just to study it more, Arjun did know something Marcus had never told anyone in the group beside Easton and Andy: His brother's name.

"Nelly wishes you well," Arjun whispered to his ear out of the blue. "He says it wasn't your fault."

It had been a long time since Marcus had heard his brother's name, and he didn't mean to push the old man away after hearing it, a knee-jerk reaction that spread goosebumps all over his body, causing Arjun to sprain his ankle when he fell off the log he was sitting on. Marcus tried to avoid Arjun from that day forward. The old man creeped him out.

But it might not be a bad idea to talk to him, Marcus thought.

He cursed Brett's name under his breath for putting the idea into his head.

Could tell the future, my ass, he hissed, only stopping himself when he realized that Mr. Kapoor knew that Nelly was dead.

Marcus pulled out his dog tags from behind his shirt and balled them tight into his fist; his eyes turned a deeper shade of green, shadows looming behind his pupils. He had two pairs dangling from his neck, and he never left one without the other: One for him and one for the brother he lost in Afghanistan. He caught Easton staring at Nelly's tags, but the man didn't say anything, keeping his eyes on his feet.

It wouldn't hurt to talk to the man, Marcus thought, though he couldn't tell the difference whether it was out of curiosity or desperation.

"Fine, I think I'll take that rest you oh so whine about," Marcus told Easton.

Easton let out a smile, patted him on the shoulder. "Glad you came to your senses, old man."

"Old man? I'm not that old."

"Eh. Potato, pot-a-to."

"Hmph. Alright. You get first-watch then."

Easton stiffened. "You're punishing me, aren't you?"

"Nope. This old man is just getting his much-needed beauty sleep."

Marcus said his goodbyes before sauntering toward their tent.

Mr. Kapoor's tent was set up deeper into the cave, behind the Fosters. Marcus passed by the latter and could hear Blake telling Willie a bedtime story. He frowned, could only imagine what the kid must be feeling and thinking with his father missing in the woods, and Blake did a phenomenal job taking his mind off of it. Though, Marcus couldn't say the same thing for his own kids. Both Connor and Eli were old enough to realize the gravity of the situation. He wished they were more like Willie.

Marcus reached the Kapoor's tent. Malik was inside trying to quiet what his grandfather had been mumbling about, though it seemed the old man put up a fight against Andy's mushroom soup that he made out of the last three Campbell's cans they had. The salt and pepper didn't make everything taste appetizing. Marcus didn't like to say that in front of Andy, however.

"Baba, you need to eat," Malik begged. "You haven't eaten once since last night."

"I hate breakfast today."

"One piece of cheese crackers doesn't count as breakfast."

"Hmph. The old man can cook a book better than the real ones," Arjun moaned.

Marcus cracked a smile. Andy would surely love to hear that.

"Mr. Russell is doing everything he can to make you feel comfortable. They're good people. He made this extra special for you."

"What's so special about it then?"

"I—uh—he didn't say."

"A hundred points for effort and one-hundred negative points for execution. I don't need anyone's shallow pity, boy. I can hear what they say behind my back. I see it."

"You haven't been yourself since the city, Baba. I understand. They all do."

"So you think of me that way too, huh? That I had leaped off the edge?"

"That's not what I meant—"

"Bah! Eat that thing you call soup, Malik, if you could even manage to swallow it down. Go attend to the children. Mr. Ward would like a word with me."

It was as if he could feel a thousand stares shooting out of the tent's flap, directed at where he stood. Marcus shifted on the spot. Suddenly, Malik's head peeked out of the flap's hole, carrying a platinum bowl filled with the mushroom soup.

"Oh, Mr. Ward! I didn't see you there," said Malik, his smile turned into a frown when the boy realized he must've heard most of the conversation he had with his grandfather.

"I just got here," Marcus reassured him.

"Um, my grandfather's not doing too well, Mr. Ward. He refuses to eat his dinner."

"For the last time, I am doing fine, Malik. Go on. Get out, boy. We'd like to talk alone," Arjun said. "And don't go spying on us. I'll know of it, and I'll cut off that ear of yours while you sleep. You know I've done worse things that will make your skin crawl."

Malik went rigid and shuffled away from the tent, like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs, never daring to look back. Marcus hid his amusement as he readied himself before he entered the tent, saw Mr. Kapoor lying inside covered in his sleeping bag at the far left side, a small LED lantern was the only source of light.

Marcus was about to open his mouth when Arjun raised a finger to shush him, said, "I know what you are going to say, and I forgive you."

Marcus's cheeks flushed. "I didn't mean to push you that day. I'm sorry. My nerves got the better of me."

Arjun waved his hand. "Like I said, I forgive you. Now that is out of the way, let's talk about why you are really here, Mr. Ward."

A beat.

"You know about Nelly, my brother."

Arjun didn't answer, but his burrowed gaze already told Marcus what he suspected.

"Do you know anything else?" He asked.

"It comes, and it goes, but the plate remains the same. It's what my mother used to say to me when I was a child. The English translation is awful, but the native tongue sounds beautiful. Trust me. Though the message still holds true."

"So, you can tell the future."

"I have stopped asking myself what on earth is going on with me. It seems a waste of energy to dwell on it, given the circumstances of the past couple of weeks. First the fall of the city and then we wade into the wilderness, hungry destitute, a little desperate. Better let it happen and deal with the present rather than thinking of a way to explain stuff of the things to come and the things that occurred. The past and the future are irrelevant to the grip of the present."

"Sounds like an awful way of looking at it."

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Marcus held his tongue.

"Anyway, if you came here because of what Mr. Boone said, then yes, I am having visions, if you two call it that. Brett calls me a Seer. It is somewhat fitting, I guess, given what I can do, though I doubt it was like the fiction books I've read in the past. What a strange young man, that one."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "On that, we can agree."

"Though, I suppose Mr. Boone's lists of…what did he call it…ah, Classes, aren't too far fetch from what is going on. My abilities—yes, let's call it that—are more complicated than that. They are like memories, but they don't belong to me. I could feel that they are not mine, but I see well into it as clear as day, as clear as I am seeing you now. Strange, yet it is somewhat comforting and familiar. But there are times that they scared the living daylights out of me. How far humans can dig so deep below the depths of depravity is a question for the universe and God himself."

"Did you see—"

"Your son? Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"As I've told you, it comes, and it goes. After each vision, it lingered like a dream, but most of the time, in the past two weeks, they fade away like any dream would if you don't dwell on it too much. Ninety percent of the time, they are harrowing. Even now, thinking about it makes my head spin."

"But you do remember some."

"Of course! Do you think I'm an idiot? I might've freaked out over what I've seen, but I am not stupid to notice that they're all a vital piece of information. Useful. Valuable. I find it better when they're fresh right after I've seen them. I tried to remember what I can, though, forgive me if this eighty-year-old brain could barely keep up with the lot. Sometimes, I don't even understand what I'm saying, but I let Malik write it down for me after each vision—on this." Arjun took out a notebook out of his bag, leaning at the side. "From time to time, I liked to read a few passages. It even surprised me that I can't recall some of them! But I like to hold on to my sanity for as long as I can, wouldn't you agree?"

"Does it hurt?"

"Nothing that a couple of Tylenol can't fix. My grandson thinks I have completely lost it, hell, I would think so myself. Though, he won't think like that for long. I have seen the man he will become, and in time, he will understand what I am."

Marcus raised his eyebrows, curious, and he caught Arjun's smile. "You will teach him well, Mr. Ward. At least that eases some of my worries," he said.

"Teach him…what exactly?"

Arjun smacked his lips and yawned, never leaving the smile off of his lips. He put the notebook back inside his bag and regarded him once again. "Give me your hand," he said, reaching out his own.

Marcus hesitated but eventually extended his hand out. Arjun gently laid the back of Marcus's hand on his palm. Arjun glanced at the creases, eyes sparkling against the light.

"You seeing something?" Marcus asked after a minute had passed.

Arjun muttered something that Marcus quite couldn't hear. "Admiring, mostly."

"Look, If you're not gonna help..."

"But I am. When I see this,"—Arjun pointed at Marcus's hand—"I am thankful that my grandson follows you, the hand that will guide us away from The Dark. He will be loyal if you tread the path that requires the hardest wills—and God be praised we have too many of that ahead of us—which I am sure you will manage. Malik Kapoor will protect you and your children with his life. He will be a good Lord for you."

"A Lord?"

"I have seen a thousand visions. Maybe millions. They form as one in my head, and it's hard to separate them from the people I know. But you, Marcus, even in that giant muddled glob, everyone sees you. Your friends see you. Your enemies see you. They see your children, too. Yes…them most of all. You have to keep one eye on them for the rest of your days."

"Is Jacob alive?" Marcus asked, almost a whisper.

Arjun chewed on his lip and leaned forward, the dark circles under his eyes more evident as he drew near. "Trust your blood, Mr. Ward, but you must also fear it. It has deeper roots in this world more than you can ever imagine. It calls for you as it calls for your sons. When they choose to heed its cry shall the world tremble beneath their feet, beneath yours."

"Is Jacob still alive?" Marcus asked again, louder this time.

"Oh, yes. The boy is well."

Marcus let out a sigh of relief, but Arjun's expression remained stern.

"—But his time will come," Arjun finished.

"What are you saying?"

"Jacob is a dangerous boy. Your other sons as well—all five of them."

Marcus frowned, winced. "Mr. Kapoor, I only have three. If you're counting my daughters…"

"No, Mr. Ward. They are long gone, and you won't see them again. We will never see our old world again. They will mourn us as we will mourn them."

Marcus reeled his hand away from Arjun's grip. "I think this has been an eye-opening chat, Mr. Kapoor, but I think I need to get back."

"Please. Don't be offended by what I've seen."

"I think its best if we don't talk about this anymore, or to anyone for that matter."

"Keep it between us? Alright. I can agree to those terms."

"Great to hear."

"But you must know: You will have five sons, Mr. Ward. Before you die, you will have five. They will do extraordinary things to this world, reshape it in their own image—both the terrible and the remarkable. For that, it will also be their doom. When they hear the call, all five are destined to die."

Arjun paused.

"You know, it is a fortune in of itself that you won't have to live to see it."

Marcus sprung up to his feet. "That's enough, Mr. Kapoor," he snapped. "I doubt it would be possible for me to have two more children."

"This world might surprise you."

"I really need to get back."

"Ah, yes, it is already getting late. I'm sorry to keep you up. But worry not, it won't be long, Mr. Ward. You have a long journey ahead of you tomorrow. Sleep well, if you can manage that."

Marcus hurriedly left Mr. Kapoor's tent, past Malik who shot him a confused look, and he ended up with more questions than answers for the rest of the night.

* * *

On the eleventh day since Jacob went missing, the morning was unusually warmer compared to the past week. The sun shone brightly up in the sky, and the snow was beginning to thaw out. Marcus had planned to search the area where they found Jacob's tracks again. The others had scoured it a dozen times, but he hoped he would uncover something they never noticed before. It was a long shot, but it would take his mind off from waiting for Kenny and Hyun to show up.

And take my mind off Mr. Kapoor's crazy bullshit, Marcus added.

It was then he heard Easton yelling at the cave's entrance. Marcus grabbed his gun and ran out to the tent. Almost everyone had gathered at the entryway, and as he waded through the crowd, he saw Kenny hunched down on top of a crate, drinking a hot cup of coffee. Kenny looked up with a smile.

"Holy fuck, Where the hell have you been?" Marcus bellowed, unable to hold back a wide grin spreading across his face. He took Kenny into his arms, partly relieved that he was alive, albeit cold and tired. The days of worrying madly felt like nothing. "We thought something bad happened to you."

"Come on. A big fellow like me? Nothing can stop me," said Kenny, barking a laugh.

Marcus looked past him, gazing on the smiling crowd who breathed a sigh of relief, something that they had been holding for the past few days, and he realized something was off.

Hyun wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Where's Hyun?" Blake asked before Marcus could.

Kenny let out a heavy sigh. "He's fine, Blake."

Blake tensed. "Is he hurt? Did something bad happen to him? Is my husband okay?"

"I said he's fine, Foster. Little Asian dude can outrun me all goddamn day and then some."

"But where is he?"

"Camped out at least forty miles south of here. Well, at least that's what he told me."

"You left him there?" Blake hissed.

"Relax! Jeez. As a matter of fact, he insisted I come back here to get the rest of you! Something about not losing ground, wanting to keep going forward, yadda, yadda."

Blake huffed. "Typical, stubborn dollop."

"Why did he stay back?" Andy asked.

Kenny frowned, and his gaze returned to Marcus. He fished something out of his belt—a dagger—turned the blade and handed it to him. It was one of Andy's collection, but at a closer inspection, he realized who it belonged to.

Jacob's.

He almost lost his grip on the handle, as if the cave spun around him all of a sudden. He managed to buckle his knees, studying and turning the blade on different angles. He handed the knife to Andy, who quickly studied it. There were no markings of blood or anything on it.

"You found him?" Marcus asked.

Kenny wrinkled his nose. "Um…not exactly."

Marcus clenched his jaw, afraid to ask, "Is he…dead?"

Kenny shook his head. "But you need to see it for yourself."

Marcus felt a pull behind him, and he turned around to look at the Kapoor's tent. Arjun sat crouched in front of the tent's flap, staring at him with a broad, all-knowing grin.

You have a long journey ahead of you tomorrow, Arjun said last night.

Marcus clenched his jaw and nodded. "Alright. We leave in half an hour."