Left its seeds while I was sleeping

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the sounds of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

'Neath the halo of a street lamp

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of neon light

That split the night

And touched the sound of silence

Fools, said I, you do not know

Silence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you

But my words, like silent raindrops fell

And echoed in the wells of silence



*knock knock*

*knock*

*knock knock knock knock*

"Come on in," I yell over the music, slightly annoyed at the interruption. Dane walks in.

"You ready, man?"

"Yeah. Give me a minute and I'll be out." He nods his head and closes the door behind him on the way out. I re-crank the volume. I sing along some more, as I finish up my hair and put my socks and shoes on.

And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon god they made

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming

And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls

And whisperrrrrrrred in the sooooounds of silence

I make sure everything  is turned off and make my way to the living room so we can all head out to our assignments. When we reach the parking lot, I go to my Jeep, while Dane and Same go to Sam's Jeep and we head out in different directions.

***

After leaving the coroner's office, I contemplate what I saw. On each of the four victims, I guess the bunker council was right about the bus victim, was a symbol. It was easy to miss if you weren't trained to know what to look for. All of them had a strange symbol, in what appeared to be a postmortem bruise. It looks like a pitch fork of sorts, except the right side of the "pitch fork" is connected like the letter "P." I took some pictures, so when we were able to finally make our way to the bunker, we would be able to research it more in the archives.

I enter Jessica Matthews' address into the GPS and head over to her place so I can interview her about the bus victim. I was having a hard time connecting him to the other three, but the mark on his body that matched them was something I couldn't ignore. 

I follow the directions the robotic voice sounds out to me and I pull up to an expensive apartment building in the middle of downtown. This chick must be loaded to afford this place. I get out of the car, locking it behind me and walk up to the door. I buzz the correct apartment and wait for an answer.

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