CHAPTER 7
THE HEAD ON A PIKE
TONIGHT
THE DRIVE TOWARD THE NORTHERNMOST LIMITS OF THE TOWN was nerve-wracking, to say the least. With the power out, Eben could hardly see where he was going. He noticed as he drove through town that some people already had their generators going, dim lighting coming from their homes. But everywhere else in Barrow was drenched in darkness. He had to focus every inch of the way as he drove through the snow, careful to remain on the roads and not run over one of the dark shadows that waved at him as he drove by.
The further he got out of town, the more worried Eben became. Ever since he got in his 4x4 and started driving, he has been trying to get a hold of Gus Lambert over the radio, but the man wasn't responding. Which worried him, for Gus never left them in the dark. If there was ever any trouble up at the tower, he would always radio in and let them know what was going on. But now? Nothing. Just static.
Eben wasn't sure what to expect, his hands continuously shifting around the steering wheel as he tried to remain optimistic about the situation. But after everything that has happened today with the burnt cell phones, sleigh dogs, the trekker, and the helicopter, he had a gut feeling that something had happened at the satellite station too.
The first thing Eben noticed when he arrived at the station was Gus Lambert's truck. Good, he thought, he's still here. What wasn't good was the fact that the entire tower was dark. There wasn't a single light on, inside or out, not even the ones that blinked red at the very top of the satellite dish. Which meant the generator hadn't been started. So, either Gus was perfectly content in sitting in the dark, or something was terribly wrong.
Cautiously, Eben reached for his flashlight and drew his pistol as he stepped out into the snow. He made sure to keep the engine running and the high beams on to give him some more light. The first thing he did was investigate the truck parked not too far away. He tried opening it up, but it was locked. He released the handle and shined the light through the windows. Empty. Nobody inside.
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Dark Days ✶ Eben Oleson
Hayran Kurguthat cold ain't the weather, that's death approaching . . . ( 30 days of night / eben oleson ) ( dunbonnet © 2021 ) ( cover by @pepperronys )