he loaded the browser and started searching for a database of Maidenhead coordinates.
When he'd finally pulled up the site, he copied the string of characters slowly into the search bar and hit enter. The old computer whirred as it thought over the inquiry, and then slowly spit out an answer.
The address given was in his home state of Minnesota. A little town called Akeley, which he'd never heard of. The map provided showed it to be a rather rural area, dotted in small lakes. What could possibly be the meaning of this? Pawing at his forehead and fighting off the growing dread that rippled through his stomach, Reggie tried to make sense of this find.
A woman had appeared in the documentary he'd taped, in the background of an early scene. She'd lingered on screen for about a minute before suddenly vanishing, and had spoken quietly all the while. Her message, it seemed, was a collection of characters, a set of Maidenhead Locator coordinates that, when applied, pointed to a remote spot in rural Minnesota. But why? Was it just sheer, dumb luck that the woman's ramblings corresponded to this particular location?
He wanted to say it was so, but his intuition told him otherwise.
This could not be mere coincidence. He felt sure of it. And this certainty inspired yet greater dread than anything that'd come before it.
Scanning the map, he found that Akeley was about three hours away from his home in St. Paul. If he was willing to take a three-hour drive to this spot, whose finer characteristics were unclear and pixellated, it was possible he'd get his answers.
But did he really want to know what this was all about?
Reggie stared at the flickering computer screen and massaged his temples. He wasn't sure what to do with this new information. “Dear Lord, give me strength,” he muttered for the second time that day.
TEN
The door to the shack flew open, and both Kenji and Dylan jumped backward.
Staring out at them narrowly from within the shack was a tall black man with broad shoulders. He looked older, perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties, and wore his greyish hair in a closely-shaven style. “What are you doing here?” demanded the man, looming in the doorway, fists balled.
Dylan fell back a couple of paces. “I'm sorry, there must have been some kind of mistake. We're... we're actually leaving now.”
Kenji, too, took the hint and glanced back at the Honda, wondering if they hadn't just trespassed onto this man's private property. “Sorry,” he uttered.
The man in the doorway didn't budge, however. Looking down at the two of them, he repeated, “What are you doing here?” Then, he continued. “How did you kids find this place?”
Kenji and Dylan looked to one another, exchanging nervous glances, and realized there was no telling this guy the truth without sounding utterly insane. What were they supposed to say in such an instance? That they'd stumbled upon a secret message in some obscure song and followed a set of coordinates all the way here on a whim? When he thought about everything that'd preceded their arrival, even Kenji had trouble believing it all.
“Well...” began Dylan, “we were just, uh...”
The man stepped out, cocking his head to the side. There was a shift in his expression; a bit of ferocity ebbed away and curiosity came to replace it. His dark lips were pursed for a time as he appraised the students before him. Then, he actually cracked a slight grin. “Don't... don't tell me you two got the coordinates, too.”
Kenji's heart very nearly stopped. “W-what?” he gasped, staggering forward. “You know about the coordinates?”
The man began to laugh, holding onto the inside of the doorway to support himself. “This... this shit is getting out of hand. Insane, just completely insane!” he proclaimed, his voice echoing through the night.
Dylan sidled up to Kenji and leaned in for a whisper. “Y-you mean we aren't the only ones who followed the message in the song?” Looking
When he'd finally pulled up the site, he copied the string of characters slowly into the search bar and hit enter. The old computer whirred as it thought over the inquiry, and then slowly spit out an answer.
The address given was in his home state of Minnesota. A little town called Akeley, which he'd never heard of. The map provided showed it to be a rather rural area, dotted in small lakes. What could possibly be the meaning of this? Pawing at his forehead and fighting off the growing dread that rippled through his stomach, Reggie tried to make sense of this find.
A woman had appeared in the documentary he'd taped, in the background of an early scene. She'd lingered on screen for about a minute before suddenly vanishing, and had spoken quietly all the while. Her message, it seemed, was a collection of characters, a set of Maidenhead Locator coordinates that, when applied, pointed to a remote spot in rural Minnesota. But why? Was it just sheer, dumb luck that the woman's ramblings corresponded to this particular location?
He wanted to say it was so, but his intuition told him otherwise.
This could not be mere coincidence. He felt sure of it. And this certainty inspired yet greater dread than anything that'd come before it.
Scanning the map, he found that Akeley was about three hours away from his home in St. Paul. If he was willing to take a three-hour drive to this spot, whose finer characteristics were unclear and pixellated, it was possible he'd get his answers.
But did he really want to know what this was all about?
Reggie stared at the flickering computer screen and massaged his temples. He wasn't sure what to do with this new information. “Dear Lord, give me strength,” he muttered for the second time that day.
TEN
The door to the shack flew open, and both Kenji and Dylan jumped backward.
Staring out at them narrowly from within the shack was a tall black man with broad shoulders. He looked older, perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties, and wore his greyish hair in a closely-shaven style. “What are you doing here?” demanded the man, looming in the doorway, fists balled.
Dylan fell back a couple of paces. “I'm sorry, there must have been some kind of mistake. We're... we're actually leaving now.”
Kenji, too, took the hint and glanced back at the Honda, wondering if they hadn't just trespassed onto this man's private property. “Sorry,” he uttered.
The man in the doorway didn't budge, however. Looking down at the two of them, he repeated, “What are you doing here?” Then, he continued. “How did you kids find this place?”
Kenji and Dylan looked to one another, exchanging nervous glances, and realized there was no telling this guy the truth without sounding utterly insane. What were they supposed to say in such an instance? That they'd stumbled upon a secret message in some obscure song and followed a set of coordinates all the way here on a whim? When he thought about everything that'd preceded their arrival, even Kenji had trouble believing it all.
“Well...” began Dylan, “we were just, uh...”
The man stepped out, cocking his head to the side. There was a shift in his expression; a bit of ferocity ebbed away and curiosity came to replace it. His dark lips were pursed for a time as he appraised the students before him. Then, he actually cracked a slight grin. “Don't... don't tell me you two got the coordinates, too.”
Kenji's heart very nearly stopped. “W-what?” he gasped, staggering forward. “You know about the coordinates?”
The man began to laugh, holding onto the inside of the doorway to support himself. “This... this shit is getting out of hand. Insane, just completely insane!” he proclaimed, his voice echoing through the night.
Dylan sidled up to Kenji and leaned in for a whisper. “Y-you mean we aren't the only ones who followed the message in the song?” Looking
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