The web's first magazine devoted to stories about life in giant artificial structures created by forces beyond human comprehension

The Cold

by Jon Baldridge

The young blonde greeted Jeff with a smile molded from hard plastic.

"You must be Mr. Winters."

Jeff tried to smile back. "Yeah, that's me. And this is—"

"Your wife Elise, and your son, Joseph."

The woman stooped to Joey's level and fixed him in the high beams of her smile. Joey shrank behind his mother's slacks and gazed back with one eye.

"Whaddya think little fella? Are you ready to live in the world of tomorrow?"

Joey's nine-year-old frame trembled, and Jeff rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. The woman straightened, her smile more genuine, satisfied.

"Nice to meet you all. I'm Vicki, your coordinator. It's going to be a bit strange at first, but I think you'll settle in just fine. So if you're ready, let's start getting our paperwork together, 'kay?"

Jeff nodded vaguely, and the woman rotated on a high heel and stalked off. Joey was holding Lisa's hand as they followed, something he hardly ever did any more. They sat in a small office, white walls without a trace of personality. Vicki across the desk fit in perfectly with the environment. A stack of paperwork stood a cubit high before them.

"Okay, let's start going over these releases!" Vicki's voice bounced with artificial pep. "I'm really glad you're interested in our prototype community. Family Unity Nation, or F.U.N. as we like to call it, will be the next advancement for families just like yourselves."

Jeff and Lisa exchanged a glance. Joey, too big for Lisa's lap, refused to look at anything. Poor guy, this was going to be tough on him. Even though it was summer and they had made arrangements for school in the fall, there were still friends in the neighborhood he could be playing with right now. If they still had their neighborhood. If they hadn't lost the house to foreclosure, and most of their possessions to tax collectors. If Jeff hadn't screwed up big time. If. Vicki was still talking, oblivious to Jeff's thoughts.

"So this first form here, this is a really important one. This is a release of liability for Lamb Incorporated and it's subsidiaries. It just says that you're agreeing to live in our community, free of charge, and we can't be held responsible for your activities here." Plastic smile.

Fair enough. Jeff signed, and passed it to Lisa, who had to reach around Joey to sign the four page document.

"Okay, great! Next is a waiver, establishing the rights of the company, and also your rights as our tenants..."

Plastic smile.



Everything Jeff and Lisa owned was in the back of the Suburban they had rented. Joey's worldly possessions consisted of a garbage bag filled with clothes and a couple of boxes. There was still room for their "coordinator", but she elected to bring a separate car. A massive steel door opened onto an intersection of two streets, both abbreviated by stark brick walls. The perspectives of continued street painted on the walls did nothing to alleviate the claustrophobia. As they drove through, the giant door crawled closed behind them with a sound that Jeff felt in his bowels. They stopped behind Vicki, and Jeff got out. Lisa rolled down her window.

"You can take your pick!" Vicki's brightness never seemed to dim. Each of these houses is differently sized, styled and furnished. So whatever's to your tastes, you'll probably find it. And they're all unlocked of course, since you're the first tenants." After four hours of signing papers, the bitch was really grating on Jeff's nerves.

"This is all in your manual," she continued, "but anything you need you just write it down on a request card and put it in the slot by the door. There's a stack of cards in each home, and the tenth from the end is pre-printed with a request for more cards, so you won't forget. Now, part of what Lamb gets from you living here is your product reviews. From time to time you'll be given products to beta test for us. Even if you don't use these products, you'll be expected to fill out the included questionnaires explaining why you didn't want to use them. These products will range from food items, to unreleased movies, to..."

Jeff nodded and tuned her out. Joey, in the car, stared out at the deserted street.

"So, you guys want to take your time, look around at houses, be my guest, 'kay?" Vicki finished.

"Listen," Lisa said, "we really have to get the rental car to the place before five. It's already two-thirty."

"Oh, don't worry!" Sometime since arriving Vicki had donned a leather jacket. "Our guys will pick up the car for you and take it back. Just have it unloaded by about four-thirty and leave the keys inside, they'll take care of the rest."

"What should we do if—" Jeff began, then looked up. Vicki was already back in her vehicle, the engine humming to life. "Hm," he finished weakly.

"So, honey, any of these houses look like a winner to you?"

"Well Jeff, it seems obvious, doesn't it?"

In the last few months, as times had gone from lean to barren, Lisa had dropped the "honey" and "sweetie" from her vocabulary. It had been replaced by "Jeff", always with a bitter emphasis that made him cringe.

"Yeah, it does I guess," he said at last.

Both of them were looking now at the house, the mansion, that stood at the top of the intersection, surrounded by vast rolling lawn and fledgling trees held up by wooden stakes.

Supported by the bodies of their dead friends, Jeff thought, and shuddered.

"Maybe this won't be so bad after all," Lisa said, but her voice betrayed her. Joey appeared at their side, huddling close to Lisa's side, shivering. Jeff rubbed his hands together too as the mild chill in the air began to sink in.

"Well," he said, trying to keep his voice bright, "let's check it out, shall we?"

Together they trekked up the stone-lined walkway that led to the front courtyard. Here was a massive walled-in area, complete with a fountain that sported a gallant angel carved from stone, standing with sword in hand and a foot hoisted atop a vanquished demon. Water poured from the end of the angel's sword, cascading down and obscuring the demon's features.

The area was well landscaped, with a colorful array of flowers flanked by short evergreens that twisted up in corkscrew shape to peek over the wall.

Lisa gasped, a sound that mingled with the babble of water and brought a smile to Jeff's face.

"Oh, it's beautiful! Look Joey, won't this be a great place to play?"

Joey didn't respond, thinking perhaps about his friends back home who would not be here for batting practice in the spacious courtyard.

"Oh my God, look at the door!" Lisa exclaimed, her animation growing more genuine by the second.

"Oh, wow." was all Jeff could say in response. The door was indeed a marvel: at least ten feet of what looked like solid carved oak, dark with intricate ornamentation. In the center was an oversized brass knocker, again an angel with its clasped hands resting against a shield. Glass inlays set in above eye level provided a fractured view of the chandelier that hung in the entryway.

Inside, the tiled foyer opened on a staircase wide enough for the whole family to ascend arm-in-arm. The ceiling was twenty feet above. Decorative molding, carved wood banisters, tasteful lighting seemed to grace every available spot.

Lisa headed for the stairs with Joey close behind, while Jeff wandered from the entryway into what may have been a living room or den. The furniture appeared antique and uncomfortable. Jeff shivered again. The fireplace that dominated one wall might see use sooner rather than later. Next a smaller, cozier den, then the formal dining room. The table could have seated ten families with room for guests. Jeff had no idea even where a set like this could be purchased, let alone what it might cost.

Came from the King's garage sale, his mind offered, and he chuckled. More likely it had come from Edward Lamb's personal collection, or maybe from his vacation home.

Next was a kitchen that could have served a hotel, then a hall that opened on another living area, a smaller dining room, and a library. Jeff glanced at the spines of a few books. The titles seemed to have been chosen for aesthetics rather than reading enjoyment. The bindings all matched, filled with Olde English-style titles, some of which were incomprehensible.

Back in the other living area, Jeff swung open the doors of a wall-to-wall armoire that revealed a television. Good. So Joey wouldn't completely go crazy, and neither would Jeff. In the cabinet below was a DVD player and a selection of recent, popular titles.

Lisa was at Jeff's side, though he hadn't heard her approach across the thick rug that dominated the room.

"Have you seen a phone?" she asked.

"No, but I hadn't really looked for it either. Where's Joey?"

"Still upstairs, picking out which room he wants. Tough decision, there's like fifty of them, and they're all nice. You should see the master."

"Yeah, I'll check it out in a second. I wish they would have put signs up so we could find our way around. Like at the zoo. 'Living room' with an arrow to point you. I'm going to get lost in this place."

Lisa smiled a little bit at Jeff's lame joke.

"The master suite's upstairs to the right. See if you can find Joey. I'm going to find a phone here if it kills me."



There was no phone. The walk-in pantry was stocked with food, they had two computers, plenty of the necessities, but no phone.

Lisa made it her first priority to write PHONE! on one of their request cards, and drop it through the slot by the door. There was no box to hold the cards, and Jeff wondered idly where they went from the slot. But only for a moment; it was time to unload the car.

Joey, having selected a room, bounded down the stairs when Jeff called him.

"C'mon buddy, let's get our stuff unloaded."

Outside, the temperature seemed to have dropped a few more degrees. They climbed back into the Suburban and drove the scant hundred feet or so to where their walkway began. Jeff noticed for the first time that they had no driveway and no garage. Not that they would need a car. Not that they had a car anyway.

"Did you see my room yet, Dad?" Joey asked. Jeff smiled at the excitement in his voice.

"No, not yet."

"Aw man, it's huge! And it's got a TV, and even a Playstation!" Joey's video game console had been one of the last and hardest casualties of their pawning.

"That's great. Don't forget the rule though."

Joey rolled his eyes, perhaps thinking his Dad wouldn't notice. It was an annoying habit.

"I know Dad, only two hours a day, and never after bedtime." Jeff cringed. Joey had added the same sarcastic emphasis to his name that Lisa did. God, it hurt worse coming from his son, even though Jeff knew he was only aping his mother. This time, Jeff would come through for them. This would be just what they needed to bounce back.

"Well, I'm glad they thought of it, buddy." Jeff tousled his son's hair, and he could almost see the eye roll through the back of Joey's head.

They brought Joey's garbage bag of clothes upstairs first, along with the two cardboard boxes of baseball cards and comic books.

"Dad, do you still need me to help?"

Can I fire up the Playstation? was implicit in the question. Well, and why not? The kid had been through plenty.

"Nah, why don't you stay and get settled in? I'll take care of the rest."

"Thanks, Dad."

Jeff could already hear the sound of electronic gunfire as he reached the head of the stairs.

Lisa was nowhere in sight when he deposited her bags in the master bedroom.

Next trip: more of Lisa's stuff and one of Jeff's own bags. One more trip would do the trick, sad as that was.

Next trip the car was gone.

Jeff walked a few feet down the sidewalk, looking one way, then the other down the deserted street. For a moment the fake perspective painted over the exits fooled him, and it was disconcerting. Jeff hadn't heard the car start or the sound of the door closing, which had seemed enormously loud when they had entered.

The people from Lamb must have taken the car back to the rental place, as promised. Hopefully they would notice the bags still in the back and think to remove them. Was it four-thirty already? Maybe, it was hard to tell without the sun as a reference.

Jeff wondered if the lights would stay on all the time here. If he strained his eyes upward, he could almost see individual fixtures high above, but it was a pretty convincing illusion. The closed-in roof appeared uniformly white. It was a little creepy, unnatural, and Jeff shivered again in the chill.

When he got back in, Jeff decided, he would fill out another couple of request cards, one letting the Lamb folks know that they had still had bags in the car, the other asking them to up the temperature a few degrees. Outside, the weather had been warm California all the way. To keep this enormous building as cold as it was must be costing them a fortune. They would probably thank Jeff for that particular request, he thought.

As Jeff stood on the sidewalk, his earlier question was answered when the lights went out overhead. Stars twinkled above. Nice touch.

Jeff fumbled his way up the unfamiliar walkway to the door, stumbling on the steps that led to the door. Inside, he completed his two request cards, plus another.






That night Jeff and Lisa put Joey to bed. They were years past tucking him in, but in this new place it seemed appropriate, and he didn't object. They were back downstairs looking for a fire log for their bedroom when Joey called out.

"Moooomm! MOOOOMMM!"

The panic in their son's voice was unmistakable, and Lisa and Jeff dashed up the huge staircase, Lisa making sure to stay in the lead.

They burst into Joey's room, where the light was already on, and their son stood just inside the door, looking up at the ceiling.

"What's the matter, are you okay?" Lisa blurted out before Jeff could say a word.

Joey's earlier panic was already fading. "It's just...it was dark and I saw this red light up there, and I tried to turn the light on, but at first it wouldn't come on. It just came on before you got here."

Jeff examined the ceiling in the far corner of the room for a moment before he finally saw the blinking red light of an LED in the corner.

"What is it?" Lisa asked, still on her haunches hugging Joey.

"It's a camera," Jeff said.

Jeff could barely see the lens, so cleverly was the camera concealed in the peaks and valleys of the molding that circled the room. If not for the blinking LED, they may never have noticed the device.

"Hm," Jeff said.

Lisa said low, soothing things to Joey as Jeff headed down the hall to their own bedroom. He scanned the molding with his eye, saw nothing, and flipped the light back off. In a few seconds his eyes adjusted, and he glanced around the room. No red LEDs anywhere. Turning the light back on, he walked the perimeter of the room. And in the corner, there it was. The light on this camera was dormant, but if he stood at the right angle the lens caught the light.

Downstairs, Jeff found cameras in the living room, the kitchen, the dining room. No evidence of one in the library, but the shelves were so well-stocked, a tiny lens could be concealed anywhere. With a horrible feeling in his stomach, Jeff headed back upstairs to check the master bathroom.

He scanned the molding carefully, checked around the tub, around the edges of tile where grout was missing. Even lifted the top off of the toilet tank. Nothing. Thank God.

Jeff listened at the open door as Lisa reassured Joey. No, no one was watching him sleep. The camera was just for his own safety. They would be right down the hall if he needed them. Then Joey and Lisa slipped off downstairs, back to the small den.

"There were no lights on the other cameras?" Lisa asked.

Jeff shook his head.

"So why do you suppose the one in Joey's room was on?"

"I wonder if it means it was taping or something. Or maybe all the others are on and that one's off. Or a warning to say it got disconnected or something, I don't know."

Lisa's voice lowered to a whisper. "I wonder if they're listening too."

“No, I don’t think so.” This was not true; he just didn’t want to imagine it.

“How do you know?” Lisa hissed.

“I don’t. How could I know? Just a feeling.”

“Did that girl say anything about surveillance? It seems like something we’d have to give permission for.” Lisa said.

“I don’t think she said anything. I mean, we’d remember that one, right? She did say something about monitoring for our security, but I figured that was something like smoke detectors. I didn’t think she meant cameras.”

“Let’s look through all those papers we signed. It would have to be somewhere in there. I know there’s a lot, but maybe you take one stack and I’ll take one and we’ll just skim them.”

Jeff slapped his forehead. “They’re in the car. Along with most of my clothes. They were stacked up on the floor behind the driver’s seat.”

“Shit, Jeff, didn’t you think we would need that stuff later?”

“Well, I didn’t think they were going to just take the car.”

“God, this is so typical. If it’s important, you’re going to screw it up.” Lisa’s face softened. “I’m sorry. That isn’t fair, and I promised I would give this a chance. It’s just creepy, you know? Feeling like someone’s watching me.”

“Well, there’s no camera in our bathroom, at least there’s that.”

“God, I hope they give us a phone soon. I really need to call my mom. Meanwhile, until we get the papers back and we know more about the cameras, let’s not do...anything. You know, that we wouldn’t want on camera.”

Yeah, God forbid, Jeff thought. He shifted in his chair as something dug into his leg. He fished in his pocket, and his hand emerged holding the keys to the rental car.



Jeff lay awake most of the night, thinking of the vast building outside, thinking of stolen rental vehicles and concealed cameras and listening to Lisa’s gentle snore from where she slept with her back to him.

In the morning Jeff was the first up and showered, the first to descend the staircase into the foyer. On the tile floor were Jeff’s bags and the stack of paperwork they had signed the previous day. Beside them, a blue plastic flashlight still in the package, and a cheap corded phone.

Jeff first opened the flashlight, resolving to put it by the door in case he needed to go outside at night. No batteries were included.

Jeff rifled through the drawers in the kitchen, found silverware, cooking utensils, no batteries. Apparently whoever fulfilled these requests thought he would need a flashlight with no batteries. Maybe they were instructed to follow the requests to the letter, without regard to how nonsensical they might be. After all, he hadn't asked for batteries. Jeff sighed, and pulled the pen from its slot to fill out another card.

BATTERIES, he wrote, then modified it to read C BATTERIES, then 2 C BATTERIES. On further thought, he changed the two to a six and dropped the card into the slot.

"Hey, they brought us our phone!" Lisa was padding to the bottom of the stairs in her robe, looking tousled and cute. Joey followed a minute later, and Jeff headed to the kitchen to make breakfast while Lisa unpacked their new phone.

He had one omelet done and was chopping onions for the second when Lisa swept in with the phone in her hand.

"I don't suppose there's a phone jack in here," she said, as if she already knew the answer.

"I hadn't looked." Jeff folded the omelet over and watched as Lisa scanned the counter, the baseboards, even the spaces under cabinets.

"Goddamnit, I'm going to check our bedroom. There better be a goddamn phone jack in this house."

"Yeah, they gave me a flashlight with no batteries too." Jeff couldn't help laughing, and Lisa's expression darkened.

"Did we ask that lady if there was phone service here?" he continued, "I don't think we did."

"We shouldn't have to," Lisa snapped. "They should have to tell us if they're not going to allow us phone service. That's like a basic human necessity."

"You know, I didn't see any poles or wires. I remember it kind of broke the illusion. I just figured the wiring was underground or something."

Jeff looked over, but Lisa was gone.






They received the response the following day -- RE: PHONE SERVICE. PLEASE REFER TO YOUR CONTRACT.

"Ah, God, I told you we should have read the thing," Lisa said. "This really sucks."

"Well, I didn't see you reading it before we signed it. Too bad you didn't say something then."

"Screw you, Jeff. Don't get all defensive on me. This is your fault anyway!"

Jeff decided to let it drop. "Look, let's take some time and go over all those forms we signed. Now I'm wondering what else is in there."

As they entered the den, Lisa clutched his elbow so tightly it was almost painful, and Jeff knew she was thinking about the cameras.

They split the gigantic pile of papers into two stacks, and Jeff peeled off the top sheet. It was the initial disclosure they had signed absolving the Lamb Corporation of any liability for their activities. It seemed a pretty standard legal document, and--

"Holy shit!" Lisa cried, snapping Jeff away from his thoughts. He looked over.

"Look at this," she demanded, shaking a sheaf of papers at him. Jeff took it, flipped through the pages. Every page in Lisa's stack was blank.






Three days passed. Jeff received his flashlight batteries, but still no phone jack, and their demand had not even been answered this time. They had received a notice that their contract would be delivered "in two to six days". Lisa was fuming, and Jeff reassured her. This was just a minor hitch. Once they got everything squared away things would be fine. Lisa eventually succumbed to this reasoning, at least on the surface. They barely spoke all day. Lisa stayed in the library, reading from the formal books with their identical spines.

When the lights went off outside, Jeff was going up to Joey's room, intent on telling the boy to get off the video games and take out the trash. Joey had scarcely left his room since their arrival, coming downstairs only for meals.

"Joey," Jeff called to his son from the doorway. He had to speak up over the sound of screaming from the television. The light of the screen flashed pale on Joey's face in the dark room, and Jeff noticed the LED that gave away the camera's location was now dormant. Joey did not look up.

"Hey buddy, I need you to pause the game a minute and take out the trash, okay?"

Joey's eyes never wavered from the screen.

"You came all the way up here to tell me that?" he wondered, "You could have walked just as far to take out the trash yourself."

Suddenly Jeff was furious; furious at his son's unprecedented insolence, furious at Lisa for snubbing him day after day, furious with himself for having them here, for not reading the paperwork. He jerked the controller from his son's hands.

"Get your ass up and take out the garbage like I told you to. And don't answer back to me again or I'm taking the games away and you can just find something else to do."

"All right, all right," Joey left the room grumbling to himself, but Jeff took a deep breath and let him go. He glanced at the television.

On the screen, a woman was tied up and gagged, naked, suspended by her wrists. On either side she was flanked by dwarf-sized demonic creatures, each holding some sort of tonglike tool that glowed with heat. What the hell was this?
Unable to take his eyes from the television, Jeff shifted the controller in his grasp and tapped buttons at random. The demon on the left moved toward the woman and grasped her thigh with the pincher, viciously twisting the tongs. This elicited a muffled scream from the victim, and a look of terror across her face, in graphics so realistic they might have been live video. This was the screaming Jeff had heard as he entered. Was this even a game? And if so, what was the object?

Disgusted, Jeff threw the controller to the carpet and fumbled with the game console until he figured out how to eject the disc.

"The Maiming" was emblazoned in dripping red letters on the disc. Jeff couldn't control his revulsion, he snapped the game in two and let it drop to the carpet.

What else had the Lamb Corporation given his son to "play"? Jeff opened the cabinet beneath the television and extracted a stack of titles, each in a plain white box like that of a rental video. "Mutilator" read one title. And there was the box for "the Maiming", then another called "Score a Kilo", which didn't sound wholesome either, nor did "Big Pimpin'", or "White Supremacy".

Jeff pulled the whole stack of cases from the cabinet, and stormed toward the stairs to show them to Lisa. But he didn't get that far. Joey was waiting in the hallway.

"Dad, what are you doing with my games?"

"Games? These are games? They're fucking sick, and I'm throwing them in the garbage!"

"You can't do that," Joey objected.

"Oh yeah? Watch." Jeff muscled past his son, headed toward the kitchen.

"No, Dad, I mean you can't!" There was something close to real panic in Joey's voice now, and Jeff paused.

"Why?" he demanded.

"They said...they said not to. There was a note, in with all the games. They're new, it's stuff that hasn't even come on the market yet. I'm supposed to try them, at least ten hours each. They said they're beta copies." Joey's voice was barely above a whisper now. "They said I had to play them or there would be...consequences."

Jeff blanched, remembering the way he had snapped the disc in two. He knelt down to Joey's level.

"What kind of consequences? Did they say?"

"No. But they said 'don't let your parents see these'. I remember that. And they just said 'consequences'."

"Listen, nothing's gonna happen to you, okay? But I don't want you playing these games any more. They're a little above your age level. But nothing's going to happen, we'll just turn in a card and ask for some different games for you to test out. And we'll remind them that you're only nine, and you shouldn't be playing with this type of thing. I'm not mad at you. Okay?"

Joey nodded, his lip trembling.

"But they're watching me, Dad. What if they know I'm not playing them like I'm supposed to?"

"Ssshh, Joey." Jeff hugged his son, felt the boy's body trembling. "It's okay, buddy, nothing's going to happen. Ssshh."

They stayed that way until Jeff's legs began to fall asleep and he had to stand.

"Did you take out the garbage like I asked?" Jeff winced at the accusatory tone in his own voice.

Joey shook his head, still struggling against tears.

"Well, let me grab the flashlight and we'll take it out together. How does that sound?"

Joey nodded.

The weak beam of the flashlight barely illuminated the walkway ahead as Jeff and his son each carried a bag of trash down to the curb.

"Dad!" Joey hissed, a stage whisper that seemed to carry a mile through the night.

Jeff immediately saw the source of his son's alarm. Across the intersection of streets a light cast criss-cross window pane patterns on the adjacent lawn.

"Oh, hey, maybe we have some neighbors. Your mom'll be relieved, she'll have someone to talk to now. What do you think, buddy? Should we go over and say hi?"

"No, Dad, let's just go back inside." Joey's voice barely emerged.

"Listen, we knew there would be other people here eventually. Don't you want to meet the new neighbors?"

"NO! WE NEED TO GO BACK INSIDE!" Joey was panicked, snot glistening on his nose in the scant light.

Jeff had to carry him up the walkway, and by the time they reached the front doors, some of his son's fear had seeped into him from their contact. The night seemed infinite, teeming with unseen danger.

At the door, Jeff turned and looked back toward the street. The light in the window was gone. He and Joey searched for the note that their hosts had stuck in with the games, but they never found it.






The next morning, still no contract, no phone, no new games for Joey. Lisa wouldn't speak to Jeff.

"You should know what's wrong," was her only response to his repeated entreaties for conversation. So after breakfast alone, with Joey still sleeping, Jeff decided to visit the new neighbors.

He crossed the street, looking both ways for traffic out of habit, and approached the front door. No sounds, no signs of life from inside. He rang the doorbell, and again a minute later.

Now Jeff noticed for the first time that the front door was not locked or even latched. For a moment, Jeff stood in indecision, shivering in the frosty air. It almost felt like winter was coming on and it was only...what was the date? Jeff counted back. Had they been here three days? Four? He couldn't remember, and he settled on four as he opened the door.

"Hello?" Jeff called.

This house was tiny compared to their own, but Jeff thought it might have been the better choice. The entryway was cozy, immediately opening on a spacious and comfortable living room.

A shock greeted Jeff in the kitchen. Food had been pulled from the pantry and flung, jars shattered, flies humming. The stove stood open, and a whole freezerful of meat sat on the wire shelves, glistening with moisture. Fresh.

In the hall, Jeff chewed his lip and stared at the graffiti on the walls. The symbols belonged to no language Jeff could identify, and looked somehow more sinister than the gang grafitti Jeff was used to seeing at home. No one seemed to live here, and yet someone had done this. Joey and Lisa had scarcely left the house since they had arrived, and they had been together most of the time. So who could have trashed the house, painted these sigils? Perhaps a disgruntled employee? But in a place like this where it could lie undiscovered for a long time this vandalism seemed an unlikely attention-getter.

Back in the courtyard in front of their own home, the fountain had been replaced. Where it once had depicted an angel standing in triumph over a vanquished demon, now they were locked in combat, an impossible jumble of arms and claws. The angels' sword had broken off, and the water that had issued from its tip now poured from the angel's eyes. Bizarre. Jeff tried to remember whether he had looked at the statue on the way out of the house, and could not. But it couldn't have been replaced in the short time he had been gone. Jeff shivered, partially from the cold and partially from the image of a crew replacing their fountain in the artificial night.

Lisa would not speak to Jeff, and Joey stayed with his mother most of the day. For dinner, Jeff ate microwave burritos that he found in the freezer.






The next morning, Jeff woke before the lights came on outside. Lisa was not in bed. Jeff took his flashlight to see if the fountain had been restored. It had not.

The lights came on outside as Jeff was taking a bite of a frozen waffle he had microwaved for breakfast. Joey walked into the long dining room, still in his pajamas, pale.

"Where's Mommy?" he asked.

"I don't know, buddy. Have you checked the living room? Or the library?"

"Yeah, I looked, but she's not there."

"Well, c'mon, let's take a look around. She's probably just being quiet somewhere."

Together they walked through the maze of rooms and corridors on the first floor, ending up in the entryway. A stack of white cases that undoubtedly held Joey's new games was in the center, directly underneath the elaborate chandelier. Jeff had not seen them when he had gone outside earlier.

Jeff and Joey split up upstairs, whirling through bedroom after bedroom, each as empty as the one before. Joey was the first to call out, and cries of "Mommy" mixed with Jeff's own calls of "Lisa", echoing down the stairs and out into the street. Lisa was nowhere to be found. Jeff and his son met up again at the head of the stairs.

"I don't know, buddy, she probably went for a walk or something."

Joey nodded, but didn't appear any more convinced than Jeff was. The boy followed his father back into the massive dining room, where the plate of waffles was gone. They found the dish in the washer, already clean.

Outside, after a search of the outdoors that did not include entering any other houses, Jeff and Joey stopped at the huge metal doors that led out of the community.

"Ah, of course, that's where she is!" Jeff said, trying to muster some conviction. "Buddy, your mom must have left to go use a phone since ours still isn't working yet."

"You think?" Joey was skeptical.

"Well, yeah. She probably just didn't want to wake us up to tell us. She must have figured out how to open the doors, and just went to run errands or something."

"When's she going to be back?" Joey's expression begged for reassurance.

Jeff said nothing.

Jeff and Joey investigated the door thoroughly, and then again, trying to find some hidden latch or panel that would cause it to open. How had their coordinator done it? They had been following her in the car at the time, and Jeff hadn't really paid attention. Maybe she had a remote, akin to a garage door opener.

A walk of a block to the other door, only to find that it was identical.

"So how did Mommy get out?" Joey asked, his case of sniffles returning.

Jeff couldn't answer.

"I want to go home," Joey declared. "I don't like it here. I want Mommy."

In their courtyard, the fountain had changed again. The demon now rested on all fours atop the fallen angel, its oversized teeth buried in the angel's throat. Water issued from the neck wound, more gout than stream, and it was discolored with rust filling the bowl below.





The next day, still no Lisa.

"They took her," Joey said, "it's because I didn't play my games like I was supposed to. I shouldn't have told."

In tears, Joey grabbed a game from the new stack, which had as yet remained untouched, and pelted up the stairs to his room. A minute later, the screaming started, and the sound of an electric drill. Jeff was scared to leave the boy alone, so he went and sat outside the door to his bedroom, glancing in every now and then.

Jeff was convinced that Lisa hadn't been taken. She hated it here from the beginning, and so she had left. The door had to be opened at some point, if only to allow entry to the mysterious workers who fulfilled their requests. A time consuming request would keep it open long enough to slip out.

Jeff contemplated this, his mind heavy and bleak. Why couldn't he have just talked to her? Why hadn't they been in this together from the beginning? Jeff should have acted at the first sign of trouble, when the money had started getting tight. This could have been prevented. Money came and went, but their marriage was supposed to be more important. He should have reached out to her, should have done whatever was necessary to shore up their love instead of letting the coldness develop between them over the past year. And now it was too late. She was probably on her way to Florida to live with her mother right now.

But no, she couldn't have left. Lisa would never have left without Joey. Maybe what he had told Joey was correct after all, and she had just gone to use a phone, or to accost the Lamb Corporation over their strange treatment.

Or maybe she had been taken.

Leaving Joey alone with his horrible games for a minute, Jeff headed back to the master bedroom. He had seen Lisa's clothes on the floor earlier, but something hadn't registered at the time. Her shoes. Lisa's shoes, both the pairs she now owned and even her slippers were lined up neatly under Lisa's side of the bed. She had not walked down the gravel walkway and into the street barefoot.

He had to get his son out of here.

The light that streamed through the bedroom windows abruptly went out. Jeff's watch said it was only two-thirty. Fumbling in the dark, he made his way back to Joey's room, where the glow of the television remained unchanged. He knelt down to his son's level.

"Listen Joey, I need for you to go in the bathroom off the master bedroom. I'm going to come with you."

Joey nodded his assent, paused the game although he did not switch off the console. The boy's eyes glistened in the television's light. He was shivering.

Together, they went into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Is it 'cause there's no cameras in here?" Joey wanted to know.

"Yes. Now listen carefully, because after now we're not going to talk about this. We're going to eat dinner in a few hours. Go ahead and play your game, or better yet, come downstairs and watch a movie or something. When we go to bed, you'll be in bed with me. I don't want to let you get too far away, understand?"

Joey nodded. Just the glimmer of a plan seemed to be improving his mood.

"I'm not going to go to sleep. We're going to keep our sweaters close by, and after an hour or so, we're going to get up and leave. We're going to sneak out super quiet, in the dark so hopefully the cameras won't pick us up, okay?"

Another nod.

"Then we're going out to wait by that door at the end of the street. Sooner or later, they'll have to open it and come in, and we're going to try and sneak out while the door is open. Even if they see us, that's okay too. We're not prisoners. I know how it seems, but we've got every right to leave. Sound good?"

"But what about Mommy?" Joey whispered.

"Well, she's not in here anywhere, right? We looked everywhere. So she must be out there somewhere, and when we get out we'll find her, okay?"

"We didn't look everywhere. Not in the houses."

"She's not in one of the houses. I already checked the houses. Do you believe me?"

Joey still looked doubtful, but it didn't matter. The main thing was to get out, get some perspective, and try to sort this out. Once they were out, the whole experience probably wouldn't seem that strange after all. With some perspective.

After dinner Jeff and Joey set about making sure the doors would open tonight. They filled out one request card after another for items too large to bring in without a vehicle: a big-screen TV, a minivan, an elephant. It turned into a game to see who could come up with the most outrageous request. Joey actually smiled once, a sight that did Jeff's heart good.

When they were close to running out of request cards they retired to bed. Joey clung to his father with fierce strength, as if afraid that he would disappear if he didn't hold on tight.






Jeff's sense of time had been distorted by the early darkness, so when he was sure it was midnight, he checked the clock by the bedside and it was only ten forty-five. He forced himself to wait, then wait some more, alert for any noise from downstairs.

After midnight, still no sound from the house. Jeff woke Joey, who slipped on his shoes and sweater without a sound. They snuck down the staircase and out the back door that opened off the kitchen, so as not to alert any workers who may be coming to fill their ridiculous requests.

Jeff kept the flashlight stashed in his back pocket, not wanting the light to show up on camera inside the house. Outside even the stars seemed to have been extinguished, and he was forced to flip the light on as they circled the house, down the gravel path, past the hedges to the street.

Silence.

Lights shone in two of the neighboring houses.

"Look, Dad," Joey whispered.

"I know, I saw them too."

"What if Mommy's in one of those?" Joey was jerking at Jeff's sleeve in an effort to draw him toward the lights.

"She's not there, Joey, I already checked, remember?"

"But what if she is? What if she was hiding and you missed her. We have to--"

"We're not going over there," Jeff shouted, and the sound of his panic slapped around the street like waves at the hull of a boat. Jeff softened his voice.

"Look, I know she's not there, okay? We need to get to the door quick, they may be coming any minute."

Jeff could hear the boy sniffling, but thankfully was spared a look at his face by the darkness.

Their stealth lost by Jeff's shout, they hurried to the metal door at the far end of the street. The yard of the nearest house had a low fence large enough to conceal them both. Jeff and his son settled down to the ground behind it, hidden from whomever might come through the large doors. They huddled together. The night was so frigid that if Jeff had not extinguished the flashlight he would swear their breath would be visible. Joey snuggled close in to his father's armpit, shivering from cold and nerves.



When Jeff woke it was still dark. Good. So he had not missed the door opening. But a tap of the button on his watch revealed that it was almost ten in the morning.

Joey was gone.

Jeff scrambled to his feet at the realization, fumbling for the flashlight, then sweeping it left to right. No sign of his son.

Jeff ran down the street, guided by the bobbing flashlight beam, up their gravel walkway, past a fountain that now featured only dismembered body parts and a healthy-looking demon. He ran through the house, tearing open doors. Calling, then screaming Joey's name.

Outside again. The expansive backyard, nothing moving. The nearest house, just a shell, no interior walls. Concrete slab and empty space, a stage dressing. The next house the same. At the end of the street a light shone from a front porch, but before Jeff could reach it, it was extinguished.

Jeff's voice was sore, his breathing ragged, but still he cried his son's name, relishing the sound it made as it echoed off the high walls and ceiling. Like someone else was here. He screamed until the very word didn't make sense any more.

Back into the street, another light shining in another house, out before he reached it. Inside a cavernous space, a wood floor, a single copper penny glued to the center. Shining.

Jeff pounded on the metal door at the end of the street. He screamed, so high and shrill that it must carry through to the other side. "Let me out," and  "Joey". The heels of his hands swelled up like sticky plums, dripping with blood from where they split open. The flashlight fell to the ground, and it wouldn't work again.

Back in their house, each illuminated clock was now set to a different time. It could have been four in the morning, it could have been midnight or high noon. Jeff did not know how long he had run through the street, how many houses he had entered or whether he had checked them all. It was freezing cold, his legs were numb, and mercifully so were his hands. His throat burned like he had swallowed a fistful of thumbtacks. He didn't know any more whether he was still crying.






Outside, snow began to fall.


Jon Baldridge is an author and a musician. He lives in Texas with his wife and two children. This is his first publication.