APOCALYPSE ROCK by Nate Budzinski

And so it ends.Thank you for following this story — and it's meant a lot to me to see that some people have even parted with their hard-earned cash for the ebook/audiobook versions of APOCALYPSE ROCK

Things are coming to a close for Doug and his friends — it's been a long and strange journey for everyone! Now, after all the changes — the ingratiating new age retreat and their piles of tech corporation cash, missing pets and people, packs of rabid and feral dogs roaming the island, children living out in the woods, and everything else — things seem to have calmed. But, as ever on Sternum Island, things aren't ever what they seem…If you'd like to get a complete copy of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

It's the morning after the day before, the storm has passed and everything's peaceful, calm… Well, most everything… If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

Doug has escaped the murderous clutches of Gavin and his mercenaries, as well as the attention of the remaining new age acolytes. Into the dark forest, to Arbiter's Perch, and to meet a kindred spirit, of sorts…If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

This week, everything comes to a boil — and, as the title hints at, it's not for the squeamish, so consumer beware, there's some violence and gore herein — Doug's head is still swimming with voices, and Ramses the Great Dane has reappeared. But now everything that the new age retreat has been working on is about to be exposed…If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

Doug awakes to find all humans and beasts asleep in the sweat lodge — and meets an old friend who he hitherto thought was lost…If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

And now, the ritual begins… If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

Doug — and seemingly the rest of the Sternum Island population — are cozy in the New Atlantis Sweat Lodge. Now who should show up but Tiberius Organ himself — new age guru and CEO of InnovoSol (among other things), and even though he's a busy man, he's got a lot to say… If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

This week, Doug finds himself herded into the so-called New Atlantis Sweat Lodge, and things are about to get… dramatic.If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

Doug's on his own now, pushed ever further by throngs of visitors to the new age retreat's open day. His kombucha gets spilled, there's gibberish in the air, and holograms…If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

This week: Doug and Gus arrive at the Golden Years retreat near the summit of Mt Costo searching for their missing friends, and things are heating up — literally: the sun is out and it's boiling! Luckily, the new agers have set up a kombucha stall… But what's with all the creepy kids dressed up like animals, following Doug and Gus around?If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

This week: Doug and Gus head to Mount Costo in search of their missing friends and some answers — they'd better hurry as there's a storm brewing… If you'd like to listen and/or read all the way to the conclusion of APOCALYPSE ROCK you can buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US)

It seems like the replacement of Sternum Island's population is almost complete — right down to Brandi of Brandi's Café now being run by the human-boutique-pop-up known as Shining Wind. The sight of a particularly hallucinogenic donut led to Doug having a waking dream from which he emerged to find himself assaulting Shining Wind. Definitely not in character for Doug. Luckily, good old Gus was there to help settle things down. THIS WEEK? Preparing for the storm that's about to hit Sternum…

It's the morning after the day before and Doug's realized he's not the crazy one — it's everyone else! Or so he thinks. Either way, he needs a coffee…

So now Doug's sure that the population of Sternum Island is being mass-brainwashed by cold-war mind-control techniques - enhanced by the private tech giant, InnovoSol. Still, he needs some rest to clear his head and figure out what to do. But while he's trying to get to sleep, Doug's friends have been busy…

After last week's violent altercation between the log-wielding Doug and the sinister school counsellor Gavin, it's bed time. Doug is bushed. But the night still holds some more surprises – namely, The Beachcomber: she's returned with some startling research that will finally shed some light on all the shadowy goings-on around Sternum Island…

Doug's come down and sobered up - at least he thinks he has. But back home there's a few surprises waiting for him…

This week, Doug and his friends drag themselves home from their mind-bending session at the pub, all with varying levels of sobriety…

Maybe it was the mix of the drugs, booze and meds that Doug's on, but if he was hoping for a chilled out time at the pub, it was quite the opposite. Now, after his psychedelic experience in the art gallery, Doug's trying to get his mind and body back in gear, and get out of this place! But the erstwhile local law enforcement might have some other ideas…

Doug and his pals are at the pub, quaffing craft beer. They all reckon that Sternum Island is quickly falling under the spell of the new agers – mindfulness, crypto, high paying jobs. Money for nothing. But there's no such thing as a free lunch, as they say. THIS WEEK: a mildly inebriated Doug Shasta takes a guided tour through an art exhibition and meets an old friend…

It's been a long and strange journey, but Doug and Bear have finally arrived at the pub. It's time to get a brew and chill out — and catch up on all the gossip about the mysterious international tech corp that's been funding the new age retreat up Costo…

Doug and Bear are high as kites, and yet, they have still not arrived at the pub. And before they do, there's one more hurdle they must pass over…

This week: Doug's heading to the pub in Bear's tricked-out Nissan sedan – an emerald beast cutting through the moody n murky forests of Sternum Island. But Bear better slow down, it's dark outside, and strange things do wander onto the roads here…

Doug and Bear hit the road and head for the pub – loaded with hippy crypto and a whole lot of questions…

Doug's loaded up with new age cryptocurrency and TGIF – just gotta get the kids settled in with their babysitter and then he can hit the road…

Doug's just discovered a massive cryptocurrency mining operation at the new age retreat up Mount Costo - Marcus told him that it's part of a ‘community outreach program' whatever that might mean. This week: a pay-off…

THIS EPISODE: Doug finally gets to see the retreat that the new agers have built up Mount Costo — and it's not got the same vibes he expected at all…

I think it's fair to say that Doug has had a pretty rough last couple of days: knocks to the head, dog bites, hallucinations. This week? He's heading up Mount Costo to a job at the new age retreat, his daughters Dora and Irene in tow. What could possibly go wrong?

“Just say no to everything!” Dora shouted at Irene. “No! No! No!” Sometimes it's best to just say no. This week, Doug spaces out on his recent discovery.

Doug just met the new school counselor, and it didn't go well at all (for Doug, at least). He likes to think of himself as a peaceful, happy-go-lucky guy, but when his kids are involved, he can get pretty emotional…

After Doug's smoke was interrupted by an unsettling vision in the woods, and then passing out (again!), he needs to pull himself together for the parent-teacher meeting, or else they might think he's got a screw loose…

Doug's skulking out in the woods behind the school for a smoke turns out to be less relaxing than he'd hoped for. In fact, it's downright trippy (and not necessarily in a good way)…

Doug's head is reeling – literally – from all the goings on over the last couple days. Now, freshly bandaged and altered in Dr Hubble's peculiar homemade balm, it's back to reality, of a kind, and off to a parent-teacher meeting at the Sternum Island school – where there's been some recent changes to staff and student body…

Hey there - I'm excited to announce that the full, complete, unabridged, chapter one to chapter done version of APOCALYPSE ROCK is now available in ebook and audiobook formats – so you can binge on ahead right to the very end of the story.Buy the audiobook through Audible (CA/UK/US) and the ebook on Kindle (CA/UK/US).I'll continue to publish the rest of the chapters for #free – AAAND stay tuned: a small surprise bonus gift for subscribers to this here story will be arriving shortly #hint #prequel ;) This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit apocalypserock.substack.com

July and Constable Sweetland are still missing, not to mention the potentially rabid Great Dane, Ramses is out roaming the woods. Now, July's cabin has burned down and it might be arson. Doug's got a lot on his mind, and it's time for a check up…Hit play above to listen, scroll down to read. Please rate and review this story wherever you may have found it, and share with your friends if you think they might like it! Enjoy

It isn't even lunch time yet and Friday's turning out to be a bit… complex. And now things are getting smokey for Doug and Bear. Hit play above to listen or scroll down to read – and please share with with any friends who you think will like APOCALYPSE ROCK! Enjoy :) IT ONLY TOOK TEN MINUTES FOR THE OLD CABIN TO BURN TO THE GROUND. Its well-seasoned timber frame provided great fuel for the flames. When Doug and Bear had come close enough to see the flames rolling out the cabin windows and front door, they called the fire department.The two stood across the road under a tree watching the flames until the firemen arrived, and hosed down what remained of the charred structure and surrounding garden. Even though the previous day's hot spell had dried things out, the now pouring rain helped keep the old trees that neighbored the cabin from being consumed by the fire. Only some branches got caught and charred. The fence and path through the garden were untouched by the flames, and the little blue plaque reading “Historical Structure” was still there alongside the mailbox. Behind it smoldered the foundations. The remains of a ceramic fireplace, a metal chimney folded by the heat, a warped brass bed frame, a shattered toilet, and a partly melted clawfoot bathtub stuck up from a hot mass of unrecognizable debris. Decades of July's life, a century of Sternum Island history, incinerated in a few minutes. After half an hour the fire was subdued. The rain grew heavier and helped pummel the cinders down into the mud.Fire Chief Mike Goggins lumbered over to Doug and Bear in his heavy protective gear. He pulled off his helmet and mask, “Hey guys,” he said. “Where's July?”“No idea,” said Bear. “We stopped by earlier this morning but she wasn't home.”“Sweetland arrested July yesterday after the meeting,” explained Doug. “Now we can't find either of them. We checked with Terminal and Vancouver police this morning, but there's no sign of them.”“July's front door was open and the window smashed when I got here earlier,” continued Bear. “We shouted for her but she didn't answer.”Mike frowned, unzipping his heavy jacket. The three watched the white smoke and steam waft up from the fire.“We're getting into chimney fire season,” said Mike. “You guys see any smoke coming from her place this morning?”The pair shook their heads.“So if it wasn't that,” Mike wondered aloud, “maybe she had some camping fuel or propane in there, or something like that.” Mike pondered the smoldering wreckage for a moment. “But that was quick, even for a small wooden cabin like hers. She'd have to be keeping a barrel of gas inside to cause something like this.”Doug pointed to the shed nestled back in the large garden, untouched by the blaze. “July keeps all of that stuff back there,” he said.Mike shook his head, “We're gonna have to get a specialist over for this.”Officer Singh's cruiser pulled up behind the firetruck. Mike lumbered over to the cruiser and fell into discussion with Singh.Doug coughed. His eyes stung from smoke. The wind's direction had shifted and the smoke blew over Doug and Bear. They covered their mouths and closed their eyes and the smoke moved on. The sting of the smoke made Doug's eyes water up, and tears streamed down his cheeks. Blinking to ease the pain, Doug caught something move through the smoke, across the blackened skeleton of July's cabin, just at the edge of the garden, where a thick wall of brambles rose up. Almost invisible in the grey, tangled mess of thorny vines stood the tiny figure of a child, staring right back at Doug. Another waft of smoke billowed into Doug's eyes, making him yelp.“You okay?” Bear asked.Doug blinked his eyes open again. The child had vanished.“Did you see a kid?” Doug waved his bandaged hand toward where the child had stood. “Over there…”“A kid?” Bear replied. “I can't see a thing.” This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit apocalypserock.substack.com

Doug and Bear head back to the No Job Too Small IT consultancy office to peruse the strange book they found at July's place. Will it give them any clues as to what she's been up to out in the forests of Sternum? Or will it send them down another rabbit-hole of spectral histories and fleeting visions?Hit play above to listen, or scroll down to read. Either way, please enjoy, and do share with any friends who you think might like APOCALYPSE ROCK! “WE LEFT IT AS WE FOUND IT.”Doug and Bear were back at Doug's office. It was still a mess from the previous day's suspected break-in. Doug was sitting at his desk and talking on the phone with Officer Singh, his breath steamed in the chilly air.“We knocked on the door and shouted her name but didn't hear anything… No… No. I don't think she's trying to hide. Maybe from you or Sweetland, I would understand, but not from us.”Doug fiddled with a cigarette, the window next to his desk already open in preparation.“No, we didn't go in… Okay, alright.”Doug hung up, looked around the mess then at Bear, who was in the chair opposite, jacket on and arms crossed, shaking his downturned head. Bear stood up and carefully walked through the stuff scattered across the floor.“Man, they tore this place apart,” Bear sighed. “You got coffee?”“Yep. In the kitchen. I'll have one if you're making.”Doug looked up at the large poster map of the Salish Sea that hung on the wall. The jagged coastlines and hundreds of islands looked protected against the vast Pacific Ocean that was just hinted at by a small lip along the left side of the map.Doug opened July's laptop and punched in the password. The input field wobbled and an “Incorrect” message came up on the screen in red letters.Bear clattered around in the kitchenette, preparing coffee.“She hasn't changed her password in decades…” Doug mumbled to himself, then tried again. The same negative result wobbled up on the screen.Doug scoffed, closed the laptop and picked up the book they had taken from July's desk, running his fingers through the multicolored tabs of post-it notes sprouting from inside the pages. The laminated dust cover had started to blister with age. Beneath the ornately scripted title “Don't Climb Trees…” was an old black and white photograph of a small, forested islet floating in a mirror-like sea. Spindly evergreen trees reached up from the rocky shores and into the mist, their reflections undulating in the smooth waters below. The shoreline was cluttered with a hodgepodge of tiny wooden shacks that jutted out into the still sea, their little chimneys seeped out wispy smoke. Small boats bobbed close to the shacks, and near the camera's eye there floated logs and other refuse. Under the image were the authors' names, Sanctity DeVray & Whispering Bird. Below that read “Published by the Anderson P. Andersen Collection.”Doug opened the book. On the inside cover was stamped “Sternum Island Public Library” in black ink. Pasted opposite on the flyleaf was a pocket for an old library checkout card, the slip still inside, covered in due dates. The first was May 1989, the last was September 2005. “Withdrawn From Circulation” was stamped across the pocket in red ink.A gurgling sound came from the kitchen and the smell of brewing coffee started to fill the chilly air. Doug leafed through the book, his fingers sticking on the paper. There were maps of the Pacific Northwest, old black and white photographs of longhouses and totem poles, colonial buildings and cemeteries, moss-covered cairns and Christian graves overgrown with shrubs. There were groups of young men posing heroically with oversized saw blades in front of giant, felled trees, of indigenous men dressed in a mix of their traditional attire and European suits and bowler hats, of small figures in distant dugout canoes paddling through the misty sea. There were stern-faced members of old religious orders gathered around tables decorated with flowers in celebration, then young hippies in kayaks, or frolicking among camper vans and teepees by the sea, naked children with long hair joyously splashing in a watering hole.“I properly googled Sweetland last night,” Bear shouted from the kitchenette. Doug heard the sound of coffee pouring into cups.“I reached out to some contacts on a couple forums as well. I couldn't find anything about him being a cop anywhere else other than here. It's like he just up and left his couples counseling business back east, then appeared here one day, dressed as a Mountie. And that was that. Bob's your uncle.”Bear emerged from the kitchenette with two steaming mugs of coffee.“Ta-da, you're a Mountie!”“It's possible this was his first post?” replied Doug. “He wouldn't be the first person to move out west to reinvent themselves, right?”Doug took one of the mugs of coffee. Bear looked on as Doug continued to flip through the pages of the old book.The chapters were brief, each describing specific locations, dates of when the burial sites were actively used, various burial rites, and some local lore. Many of the pages had notes inscribed in a neat longhand script in pencil, about the different sites, personal recollections of visits to the places, cryptic annotations about geography, and so on.“Is that July's handwriting?” Bear asked.“Pretty sure,” replied Doug. He turned to the index at the back and looked up Sternum Island. There were four entries in the same chapter, Chemainus, Christian, Cowichan, Saanich. He flipped to the chapter. A map of Sternum Island was dotted with several burial sites, and overtop that July had  jotted down dozens of potential sites on the northwest side of Mount Costo. Next to the cluster of dots she had written “Hippies.” Another dot – this one by the book authors, not July – marked the center of Sternum Village, just up the lane on Orchard Grove. It was July's cabin.“There's bodies buried in July's garden?” Bear wondered.Doug raised his eyebrows at Bear then turned the page. On the left was a picture of a gathering of cairns in the woods, covered in forest debris and ferns.“Mount Costo plateau has numerous, uncounted burial sites, many of which were made inaccessible after a landslide.” Doug read out the caption below the image.“I remember my granddad telling me about a landslide up Costo,” said Bear. “But that was near the old garbage dump up there.”On the right page was a photograph of July's cabin when it was newly built. Apart from the structure settling into the uneven ground beneath it over the years, little about the cabin had changed to present day. A family of five, dressed in their Victorian Sunday best, posed outside on the porch steps. It was a sunny day, the vast garden behind the group lush and verdant looking. Over the shoulder of the straight-backed father, Doug could make out the diamond-gridded window. Doug squinted at the face of the mother, her eyes hidden in shadows, prominent cheekbones and a long, thin-lipped mouth.Despite the blurriness, there was a strong resemblance with July's long and expressive face. Cradled in the woman's arms was a baby.  There was a caption below the picture, “Original Sternum Island homesteaders family, the Shackles, outside their Orchard Grove cabin in 1898. Several early pioneers are buried in unmarked graves nearby on family land.” The neat longhand script had underlined the name Shackles, drawing a line out into the margin, noting, “Edith Shackles neé Billy married William Conrad Shackles, New Albion 1886. Edwina (baby) married into Straitemores 1928, Patricia (3 y/o) married into McDonalds 1920, Charlotte (4 y/o) married into Hardens 1923.”“This must be July's great-grandparents and grandparents,” said Doug. “They'd've just built the place and moved in.”Bear took the book and smiled, “There's so few buildings left from then. Back when Terminal was still called New Albion. Barely past being a one-horse town.”Doug laughed, “I remember July telling me that her grandmother was quite the flapper in the 20s,” he said, pointing to the blurry little baby. His finger moved back to the mother, Edith, her shadowed face's contours echoing July's.“It's uncanny,” remarked Bear. “Has July ever said anything about her grandmother?”“Not really,” replied Doug.“July never mentioned it,” said Bear. “I'd guess her great-grandmother was First Nations, with that last name.”“Billy?” Doug squinted at July's handwriting and Bear nodded.“Was that normal back then, like natives and white people getting married and everything?” asked Doug.“More than you'd guess,” replied Bear. “All those guys from back east or Europe moving out here? Chasing a dream. They sure as hell weren't going back home. Sooner or later they'd want a family. When that sets in, people tend to lose whatever prejudices they might have real quick, I guess. It's the oldest story there is.” Bear handed the book back to Doug.“You can see she was looking everywhere on Sternum for burial sites,” said Doug, flipping through the rest of the chapter, then turned back to the map of Sternum.Doug popped the cigarette in his mouth and lit it up.“Especially up Costo,” said Bear, raising his cup.They sipped on their coffees and some rain-speckled wind blew gently through the window. Tendrils of smoke curled up around Doug as he skimmed through the book.“What're you smoking?” Bear scrunched his nostrils.“American Spirit. Why?” They both looked at the cigarette in Doug's hand.“Smells weird, man. Like burning tires,” Bear stood up and sniffed.Doug stubbed out the butt and stood up, the two sniffing at the strange odor that now wafted through the chilly air, getting stronger and more pungent.Out the window, dark plumes flew over Doug's office and into the forest behind.They ran out to the front of the office. In the distance, up the gravel lane, above the tall trees, a thick stream of dark smoke rose into the grey sky.“July's cabin!” shouted Doug. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit apocalypserock.substack.com

What do Henry David Theroux, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Hemingway, Gandhi, and Jesus Christ have in common? Well, for one, they're all featured in the burgeoning social media presence of Shining Wind. Doug and Bear take a deep dive into the influencer's quotable quotes, and find some interesting connections… Hit play above to listen or scroll down to read. Enjoy!Bear and Doug walked quickly up the gravel lane. Doug looked back over his shoulder at July's cabin, the front door swinging slowly in the wind.“Woah!” Bear exclaimed. “This Shining Wind guy. He's got over half a million followers on his Instagram.” Bear held his phone up to Doug, rain speckling the screen. The two huddled under the small cherry tree leaning over the lane. The rain started getting heavier.Shining Wind's account had thousands of posted pictures. Most of the images were variations on the same theme of Shining Wind gracefully immersed in nature: surrounded by huge trees, staring out into a massive canyon, paddling across a glacial lake, looking out from the peak of a mountain to some distant, possibly transcendent beyond. His presence always calm and self-possessed, poised and in balance. Masterful. In most of the photos, Shining Wind's eyes seemed fixed on a horizon somewhere behind the viewer. Below each picture were short texts; quotes from Henry David Theroux, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Hemingway, Gandhi, Jesus Christ, and others.Bear laughed. “What we can establish for sure is that this gentleman has healthy self-esteem.”“Looks like it,” Doug smiled. “It could also be self-therapy for low confidence.”One picture down the feed, posted on Monday September 15th showed Shining Wind standing in front of an old broken-down school bus, somewhere in a clearing. He was wearing a thick Icelandic woolen sweater and billowing, colorful trousers like some type of circus performer might wear, his hair flowing in the wind. Above him, the number “142” was painted on the side of the bus.“I recognize that picture from somewhere,” said Bear.Doug nodded, “Yeah. Me too.”The text below the image read, “The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun. – Alexander Supertramp.” A long series of hashtags followed: “#backpacking #alaska #wildcamping #offthegrid #backcountry #adventure #intothewild #campinglife #optoutside #walden #ontheroad #dharmabus #dharmabums #canonphotography #galaxynote9 #organic #sustainableliving #offtrail #vagabond #jackkerouac #rucksack #rucksackrevolution #hitchhiking #wanderlust #climbing #naturelovers #supertramp #chrismccandless.”“Ah, I know what that picture's of,” exclaimed Bear. “It's in Alaska. Where that kid died. You know, the one who tried to live there for the winter, but starved to death. Like, when he was five clicks from the highway, but still managed to die.”Doug tapped the post's thread. They scrolled through hundreds of comments.JBelle Supertramp will always have a special place in my heart. He is an inspiration and a hero. I hope one day I get to see with my own eyes the bus that Supertramp called home.Roundedstone … oh the pull of nature that I feel in my heart.Richard_muybien That movie was great! I wanna travel in his steps too. I'm planning a trip up there to see the magic bus soon.sammyntammy Wilderness inspiration..... ❤️❤️❤️❤️Giuliogoesmental Didn't like. The book was amazing and the film made me cry. But this guy threw his family away and was ill-prepared for his journey. I think he was arrogant.One comment caught Doug's eye. It was posted on that same September 15th by The Beachcomber: “Behold the magic bus. You seem energized up there. Check your DMs. For all your followers and friends of the channel, check out an episode I made about McCandless and his time canoeing down the Colorado River, toward the Gulf of California. Something dark happened in the little desert town of Yuma, and we get to the bottom of it…”“It's that Beachcomber weirdo!” Bear whispered. “So they know each other…”“I think I watched a Beachcomber video last night,”  said Doug. “I think it's what gave me nightmares about zombies outside my window.”Bear went back to Shining Wind's profile. All the subsequent posts illustrated his journey from Alaska down to Terminal City. The most recent update, made just the day before, showed the mountainous silhouette of Sternum Island rising out of the dark ocean into a grey sky. A few solitary rays of sunlight shone through the thick clouds. Under the image was another quote: “The soul grows by reincarnation in bodies provided by nature, more complex, more powerful, as the soul unfolds greater and greater faculties. And so the soul climbs upward into the light eternal. And there is no fear for any child of man, for inevitably he climbs toward God — Annie Besant.”“Heavy stuff,” muttered Bear. He glanced up toward the darkening sky.“Let's get out of the rain,” Doug replied. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit apocalypserock.substack.com

LAST WEEK in APOCALYPSE ROCK: July is still missing, and what's more, Constable Sweetland has seemingly absconded too. In fact, the somewhat sinister mountie hasn't been reporting into HQ on the mainland for months — or that's what the replacement cop Officer Singh claims. THIS WEEK: Doug and Bear do a little snooping in July's cabin, and it seems she's got a few secrets herself…Hit play above or scroll down to read. Please rate and/or review this story wherever you're consuming it, and share with any friends who you think might like it.DOUG'S STATION WAGON clanged southbound, just over the speed limit. His heart rate had increased, his head was pounding, and his hand throbbed. The wind had picked up, making the branches of the trees on either side of the road wave gently.He parked the car near the cafe and jogged up the lane to July's cabin. Bear was standing outside on the porch, sipping on a coffee from his thermal flask, his face stuck in his phone screen.The multi-colored, diamond-gridded window next to the door was shattered. Glass shards lay scattered on the porch boards below it, the lead gridding bent, as if someone had reached through it. The door was open and swinging slightly in each little gust of wind.“I've been trying Sweetland, but he's not picking up,” Bear said. “Poked my head into July's, but wanted to wait until you got here.”“Sweetland's not there. July's not there,” Doug replied, “I was just at the compound. There's a replacement cop from Terminal City. He had no idea about July, or the break-in or assault. And get this: Sweetland didn't log any reports. He hasn't made one single report for months.”“Messed up!” replied Bear, shaking his head. “So now, it looks like our island cat-burglar has broken into July's place too.”Doug let out a yawn and then a small groan as he stretched his neck.“You okay?” Bear asked.“Yeah, just some rough sleep last night. Had a wild dream about people looking in at me through my bedroom window.”“Well, that sounds like a classic horror dream,” replied Bear.“Yeah,” said Doug. “I didn't get much sleep anyway.”A gust blew the door open and the two looked into July's home. Apart from the sound of the wind, it was silent. Bear and Doug looked at each other.“Okay, let's do it,” said Bear.The lights were off but the windows allowed enough daylight in for the two to see. It was cold from the broken window. The small but cozy space was packed with the many objects, pictures and curios that July had collected over the years. Hundreds of books lined the shelves up to the ceiling. Numerous trinkets were placed on all available surfaces. The wall space was filled with photographs, paintings and drawings.In one corner was an antique writing desk, its drawers open, a mess of papers strewn on the floor below it. Nothing else looked like it had been disturbed.Doug looked down at the side table next to the door. Sitting on a pile of unopened letters was July's cellphone. Doug tapped it and the screen lit up. There were multiple missed calls from himself, Bear, and other folks Doug recognized. He put the phone in his pocket. In the place where it had been was a familiar business card. He handed it to Bear.“That's one of the retreat guys,” said Doug. “One of the hitchhikers I picked up yesterday. He gave this to me. The outdoorsy hipster.”Written across the familiar card in embossed letters was “@shiningwind_journeys_within Transformative Experiences. Curated.”“Thing is, I can't remember if I gave this to July, or she got it from him, somehow?”Doug walked to the antique desk and crouched down to look at the scattered papers on the floor. He sifted through them: some telephone bills and bank statements, shopping lists and assorted notes and scraps. Doug crouched further down and poked his head under the desk. In a small pile were numerous black and white print-outs. Doug collected them, and he and Bear leafed through the pile. On each page were swarms of small, angular tick-like marks, little wedges that ran buzzing along a series of straight, horizontal lines. July had made small handwritten notes, presumably for the translator she had sent them to.“The glass cylinder,” Doug muttered.“So, these are from that thing you said you found on the beach?” Bear asked.“Yeah, I think so,” replied Doug. “July said that she had copied out the engravings, so she could send them to her friend at some university. This must be the translation down here.” The two friends stared at a list of seemingly random words:“Moon. Regret. Ancient. Hungry. Refuse. Actor. Witness. Dolphin. Myth. Bomb. Never. Witch. Collapse. Practice. Feed. Shame. Open. Despair. Creek. Road. Again. Ice. Least. Kingdom…”“A mystery wrapped up in an enigma, eh?” surmised Bear.“Whoever translated it for July also added a note below,” Doug read it aloud:“Dear July, As we spoke about on the phone: I can confirm this is a contemporary variant of Sumero-Akkadian cuneiform script. It's interesting to note that where the Sumerian pictographs or Akkadian language did not possess either the word or concept, then the English phonetic spelling was used, which is eccentric, to say the least. In terms of encryption, I would assume the use of Sumero-Akkadian cuneiform is mostly down to the poetical spirit in whoever produced these odd little objects; it's not so difficult for a specialist to decipher. Especially if we assume that it should be translated into English in the first place (rather than, say, ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, Latvian, etc. etc.). But what for and where the words should be used, I am at a loss. As you say, it's less about the words and more about how they're used. All that said, I think the most interesting, if not worrying, aspect of this little object is one I cannot confirm without seeing it ‘in the flesh' as it were: the little object's electromagnetic capabilities, as well as overall material dynamism, reminds me of some similar tech I was privy to when working with our friends in Seattle several years ago. If that is the case, then I would say there's an urgent need for containment as this is not something one should be finding washed up on a beach, let alone being thrown around friends. I know that you are supposed to be retired, July, but I suggest immediately contacting Pacific Centre for their take on this. I have already informed our mutual friends. Yours, Hank X”“Shit!” Bear whispered.Doug frowned and handed the print-outs to Bear. He opened the writing desk lid. “July said that when she brought the tube thingy near her computer, it copied a bunch of files to the desktop.”Doug cleared the writing surface. There was a small click and the desk surface opened a crack.“Is that a secret compartment?” Bear asked.Doug gave a conspiratorial wink, then jostled the lid open.He pulled out July's laptop. Across its battered surface were a riot of various colorful stickers, “Shut Up & Smile” read one. “Salish Sea Society of Independent Researchers” read another.“What's that?” asked Bear, pointing into the dark compartment. A book sat in among the clutter. It was a hardback. A multitude of colored little post-it notes had been inserted between its pages. Across its black cover ran an ornate, archaic-looking font. Bear pulled the book out from the compartment and read the title aloud, “Don't Climb Trees on Dead Man's Island: Secret Burial Sites of the Pacific Northwest, from First Nations to Flower Children.” Under the title was a black and white photograph of a tiny island covered in tall spindly evergreen trees.“Burial sites?” wondered Doug. “July told me she'd been up Costo doing research. Really hush-hush about it. This could be part of that.”Bear folded the papers with July's translations from the glass cylinder, and put the book under his arm.A cold draft passed through the room. Doug looked up at the broken, diamond-gridded window.“Let's go to my office,” he said. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit apocalypserock.substack.com

T.G.I.F. (on Sternum Island, that is) Doug didn't get a very good night's sleep, though – what with all the conspiracy theory YouTube videos, the flies swarming the house, and people watching him through his bedroom window. THIS WEEK, Doug hits the road, trying to find July, but there's a new cop in town…Hit play above to listen, scroll down to read. Rate and/or review this story wherever you may have found it, and please share with any friends who you think might like it. Enjoy!“REMEMBER KIDDOS, I'M GONNA PICK YOU UP AFTER THE PARENT-TEACHER MEETING, OKAY?” Doug was leaning out of his car window. Dora and Irene stood in front of the schoolyard, backpacks on.“Yes, Daddy,” Dora replied. Irene blew a raspberry at Doug and giggled.“Well. Thank you very much, Irene,” Doug replied to the little toot. “After I pick you up later, we're gonna go for a short visit to a friend's place, on Mount Costo.”“Yay!” Dora flailed out some jumping jacks. Irene tossed her arms around and blew another, longer raspberry.“I know it's not the funnest thing to do on a Friday, but it'll be quick. But you can watch TV on my phone while I finish the job. Okay?”Doug pulled his car out of the school parking lot and onto the main road, pointing the car toward his office. Clouds had rolled back in overnight but it didn't feel like rain today. The air was still mild with a slight sharpness hinting at an incoming winter.“Just checked compound. No July, no Sweetland. WTF?” Bear had messaged him. Doug had agreed to check in again on his way to work.He spread out the fingers of his right hand, and then contracted them back into a fist. His hand still ached. It was even worse this morning.He switched the radio on, “… cloudy all day with a ten percent chance of rain. The spirits of the Salish Sea are high today, and they want to keep us high too. High, dry and mighty!” the DJ monologued, “You're listening to 107.7 The End, digital-first until the brutal last. I'm DJ Bacon, Mr DJ Bacon, your friendly local avatar. The next song was requested by self-described regular listener, first-time caller, Bad Sleep.” Doug blinked his eyes and yawned. “Hope you get some rest soon, okay, buddy?” the DJ continued. “I'm not sure this tune's gonna help you nod off, buddy. But it's a blast from the past, a real rare gem. As reinterpreted by the Icelandic orchestral synth-pop virtuoso, known as Kejvín. I hope I'm pronouncing that right, Kev. It's an icey, sometimes dicey Nordic take on Billy ‘The Piano Man' Joel's classic, We didn't Start The Fire.” Doug chuckled to himself. He hadn't heard that since he was a small kid. It might be the first pop tune he had ever heard. He turned it up.A hoarse, floating voice sang over a flickering, raw guitar riff. “I saw a sign in the sky, ‘I have come to set you free,' and a light, shining brighter, shining down, down on me… I saw fire, fire and brimstone, coming down on my head.” It wasn't the same song at all. Doug switched the radio off. His car crept in silence beneath the high trees, the road unraveling before him.Doug pulled into the police compound. Sweetland's truck wasn't there. Parked in its place was a Terminal City Police Department cruiser. Doug got out and slammed his door shut, its metal clanging loudly. He went into the compound's reception. It was empty, but the front desk had that morning's issue of the Terminal Caller newspaper. It was closed and still neatly folded, as yet unread. Next to it was a steaming cup of coffee. Under the coffee cup was a light blue folder with red letters across the front. It was upside down but Doug could read the word “CONFIDENTIAL” on it. He had to squint a bit, but the small print title said, “Operation Endless Wellness: substance dispersion via Leek Point watershed. A manual and timeline.”There was a cough somewhere. Doug looked around, but nothing.He turned back to the desk. Above it was a large noticeboard covered in dozens of blurry images of dogs in the forest, just like the photograph Sweetland had shown at the previous night's meeting.Doug thought he heard a door shut somewhere further inside the compound.“Hello?” Doug called out. “Is anyone here?” He heard a slamming sound, footsteps and then the inner door to the reception opened. Standing in the doorframe was a medium build, wiry but strong seeming man, arms and legs slightly akimbo, like a human-sized action figure. Dressed in a Terminal City police officer's uniform, he had a dark, well-kept beard and a blue turban on his head.“Good morning sir, how can I help?” he asked crisply.“Oh, hi. Good morning,” Doug replied. “I was looking for Constable Sweetland. Is he off today?”“Constable Sweetland is in Terminal City,” the policeman said. “I'm Officer Singh. I'll be covering until he returns. Can I help you?”“I'm Doug Shasta. Constable Sweetland arrested a friend of mine last night and I want to see how she is.”As Doug spoke, Officer Singh strode over to the desk. He picked up the coffee cup and as he took a sip he slid the blue folder into the desk drawer.“Another friend of mine tried to check in last night to see how she was doing,” Doug continued. “But no one was here. We've both tried calling her, and checking if she's back at her home, but no luck.”Singh looked Doug up and down, then squinted at the odd stain on Doug's head left from Dr Hubble's secret sauce. Singh opened up the logbook on the desk and skimmed through it, “Well, the Constable called in last night saying he'd be leaving Sternum, and a replacement was necessary as soon as possible. But there's no mention of any arrest yesterday. And there's no one in the holding cell. Are you sure your friend was taken into custody?”“Certain,” replied Doug. “Her name is July Straitemore. She lives in the cabin on Orchard Lane in the village. She was arrested yesterday at about 5:30 in the evening. I saw Sweetland put her in the back of his police truck myself. She was handcuffed. I saw it right up close and then saw him drive off with her.”Officer Singh looked confused, “Do you know why he arrested her?”“I didn't see what exactly happened,” explained Doug. “But from what Constable Sweetland said, it was because July had stopped him from catching her dog. He thought it had rabies.”Officer Singh's look of confusion deepened, “And he arrested her for that?”“Well, they were both bleeding from some kind of wounds,” replied Doug. “So maybe that's got something to do with it. But I don't know.”“Hm. Well the quickest way to clear this up is to call HQ,” Singh shrugged. He picked up the phone and dialed.As Singh spoke with the police department in Terminal, Doug scanned the dog images on the noticeboard. In the bottom right-hand corner of each picture there were notes written in the same tidy hand, presumably Sweetland's, marking the location of each sighting, describing the temperaments of the dogs, from “disinterested,” to “hungry,” or “aggressive,” and so on. At the end of each description, Sweetland had written “Cull Urgency,” followed by a ranking out of 10, none of which fell below nine.“Mr. Shasta,” Singh hung up the phone. “Can you tell me, did anyone else see the arrest happen, besides yourself?”“Maybe. Well, nah, I don't think so,” Doug flustered. “I don't know. It happened right outside the town hall, but everyone was inside except me.”“The reason I ask, is that Constable Sweetland has yet to check-in at Terminal City. Nor do they have any record of a custodial arrest occurring on Sternum Island, let alone any other arrest. Or, indeed, any report about anything at all. In fact, there hasn't been a single report for several months now.”“Sweetland was also supposed to follow-up on the possible attack that happened to me.”Singh squinted at Doug, “You were attacked?”“Well, we don't know for sure,” Doug replied. “I think I caught someone in the middle of a break and enter at my office. The door and a window were open when I arrived, then I heard a crash inside. Then I looked in my office, and it had been ransacked. Then everything went black. Sweetland thinks that someone knocked me out.”Doug motioned to the discolored patch on his head, “That's where I got this.”Singh raised his eyebrow, then looked at Doug's bandaged hand, “And that?”“That's different. Ramses bit me.”“Who?”“Ms. Straitemore's dog, Ramses, he bit me. It's not serious. Just a little nip.”“Right. Anyway, that possible break and entry, and assault? It hasn't been logged or reported either,” Singh replied, shaking his head. “Honestly, sir, I'm a bit confused.”“You can definitely confirm that break-in with other people,” replied Doug. “Sweetland gave a report about it at the town hall last night, right before he arrested July. There were, like, 300 people there.”Singh looked hard at Doug, “And you were the only one out of all those folks who decided to leave that meeting?”“I had to leave early to get my kids,” replied Doug. “Their mother had to catch a plane to Vancouver, for work.”“Your kids…” Singh followed, nodding, “How many?” he opened a small notepad and started scribbling in it with a tiny pen.“Two daughters, six and four,” Doug replied.“You and their mother, you live together?”“No, we split up a few years ago,” said Doug.“When's she returning?” Singh asked.“Sunday,” Doug replied.Singh finished writing and closed the notepad. “As I said, Mr Shasta, I only know what I'm told and what I see. I was not told of any arrest. There's no one in the holding cells here and nothing is noted in the logbook, or at HQ. Similarly, with your own experiences of a break-in, and assault: there's no record.”Doug's phone vibrated but he ignored it. “But how can I find my friend?” he asked.“Go check her place and… keep trying to call her,” replied Singh. “In the meantime, I'll log our conversation with HQ. I imagine we'll hear from Sweetland soon when he checks in to Terminal City. We'll clear all of this up. Sound good?”“Yeah, okay,” Doug replied, his head had started pounding again.As Doug walked back to his car, he checked his phone. It was a message from Bear, “Come to July's.  Now.” This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit apocalypserock.substack.com

It's been a long day, but finally the kids are snug in bed, and now Doug can just kick back, watch some videos, and drift off. But when let to run wild, autoplay tends to take you to some strange places…Hit play above to listen, or scroll down to read. If you're new to the story (hello and welcome!) you can catch up with all previous instalments here. Please leave a comment or like, and do share with any friends who you think might like APOCALYPSE ROCK — Thanks!

LAST EPISODE: July was arrested by (the frankly sinister and bizarre) Constable Sweetland, and Doug's got no idea what he can do about it. Might as well light one up and have a think. Good plan, if nature doesn't keep invading his thoughts, not to mention his kids…Hit play above or scroll down to read. Whatever you choose, please enjoy!

LAST EPISODE: after a wild dog attack on the town hall meeting, Golden Years Body & Mind Development Group LLC sold their vision for a sprawling complex on the remote summit of Mount Costo to the locals of Sternum Island. It certainly helped that they're promising to dump all kinds of cash all over the island! Money may talk and bullshit may walk, indeed – but Doug really had to go and pick up his kids. THIS WEEK: Constable Sweetland has a job to do, and Doug better not get in the way.Smash the sideways arrow above to listen. Scroll on down to read the old-fashioned way. But either which way, I hope you enjoy. Go here for a catch-up compendium… And thanks for reading/listening/consuming! DOUG NAVIGATED HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD, TOWARD THE MAIN DOORS. The discussion faded. Outside, Doug sucked in the fresh air. He was about to put up a “No Job Too Small!” poster on the noticeboard outside the town hall, when he saw Constable Sweetland's empty police truck parked  just a bit further down the main street. The driver's door was open and the truck's sirens flashed silently, red and blue light circling around the empty street.As Doug approached, Sweetland emerged from Orchard Lane. He was leading July, who was now in handcuffs. Sweetland towered over her, his hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the police truck. A thin trail of blood trickled down the front of July's face. The forearm of Sweetland's sleeve was shredded and bloodied as if Ramses had attacked him.“Hey! Constable Sweetland!” Doug closed in on the pair. “What's happened?”“Please stand back, Mr Shasta,” Sweetland responded, his hulking figure loomed, dark eyes jittering around to give Doug a brief glance.“I'm afraid I've had to arrest Ms Straitemore due to her obstruction in the carrying out of my duties. I'll make a report imminently. But in the meantime I must ask you not to interfere.”“Jesus,” Doug exclaimed. “What happened to your head, July? Are you okay?”“Don't worry, Doug,” July replied, “I'm fine. Ramses got away. I got too close. They're…”“Ms Straitemore!” Sweetland put his hand on July's head and pushed her into the back seat of the truck. “Refrain from communicating with Mr Shasta.” Sweetland slammed the door shut, then circled around to the driver's side.“What do you mean, July?” Doug yelled through the window.“Mr Shasta,” Sweetland shouted over the hood of the truck. “If you want to communicate any further with Ms Straitemore, do so through the proper channels.”“What do you mean? What're the proper channels?” asked Doug.“Either through telephone or in-person at the compound, during office hours. You can find all the relevant information online.”“We'll get you out!” Doug shouted through the window.“Don't let this madman catch Ramses!” July shouted back.“Ms Straitemore. I have warned you,” Sweetland growled as he fired the truck up. Doug could see Sweetland's black eyes staring at him through the rearview mirror, burning.“Dr Hubble needs to look at both of you!” Doug shouted over the revving engine.July kept trying to tell Doug something, but the sound of the engine drowned her out, her words muffled through the window. Sweetland gunned the truck and it lurched forward, its spinning tires spraying gravel up into the air.Doug stood in the middle of the road, watching the police truck drive off up the hill, sirens flashing silently into the forest, the bright yellow paper of his “No Job Too Small!” poster crumpled in his hand. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit apocalypserock.substack.com

After last week's intrusion, the Town Hall gets itself back together and pushes on with their agenda. This week, Doug and his friends finally find out what's happening up Mount Costo with the new age retreat. It's huge, there'll be buckets of cash sloshing around

Hi-tech gizmos and body parts washing ashore, eccentric newcomers building retreats in the remote forests, break-ins and attacks. Things are building up for sleep-deprived and over-prescribed Doug Shasta.This week on APOCALYPSE ROCK it's time for the Town Hall meeting, bringing together the local community of old-timers and green horns alike, to discuss — in the most sleep-inducing ways — local news, views and plans. But sometimes we're our own worst enemies. And other times nature calls, screams, howls…Hit play above to listen, or scroll down to read, but either way, I hope you enjoy.

This week on APOCALYPSE ROCK, July's dog Ramses is missing, but not everyone's missing the dog…Hit play above to listen, or scroll down to read.

Last week ended, quite literally, on a blackout. Was Doug attacked? Did he simply pass out from lack of sleep, or the nasty smell that wafted from his office? THIS WEEK: Doug drags his wounded self to the the local island doctor, who has, let's say, unconventional methods in treating his patients…Hit play above to listen to APOCALYPSE ROCK or scroll down to read. Enjoy!

What's the worst smell you've ever smelled? Mine was opening a dumpster that had been broiling old food from a restaurant all day in the mid-summer sun. That was back in the late 1990s. It was so sickening that I swear the stench has followed me since! (My memory of it, that is. I certainly hope it hasn't clung on to me in any other tangible form!)LAST WEEK, a detached human foot washed ashore — unsettling news for Doug and his friends. This week on APOCALYPSE ROCK, Doug experiences a smell so vicious, it might literally knock him out…Scroll down for

Last week on APOCALYPSE ROCK, we discovered that there's mysterious goings-on up Mount Costo, right near the new age retreat — but are they connected? THIS WEEK: a new darkness washes ashore…Scroll down to read, click play above to listen, subscribe on Apple Podcasts, or sign up below. However you prefer

Last week on APOCALYPSE ROCK, Doug met a founder of the new age retreat that recently opened on Mount Costo. THIS WEEK: Doug's friend July has been doing ‘research' in the woods near the retreat, and there's secrets buried up there, she's sure of it.Press play above or scroll down to read. You can subscribe to this email here, or get the audio version through Apple Podcasts, here.THE RAIN HAD EASED INTO AN IRRITATING DRIZZLE, AND THE SKY HAD TURNED A BLAND HOVERING GREY THAT CLUNG TO THE HILLS ABOVE STERNUM VILLAGE.Doug gathered his things from the car, and walked up the gravel lane toward his office. July's cabin looked dark. He checked his phone to see if she had responded to his message, but nothing.“Shit,” he muttered into the trees, digging through his jacket pockets for the small cylinder. He turned back toward his car.Doug rummaged through the glove compartment. Bits of string, some cloths and a bouquet of rubber bands, a flashlight, old batteries, a box of matches, Doug's dog-eared business cards, a crumpled nautical map, and two emergency flares bumped around.But no little cylinder.In his mind's eye Doug could see it gleaming in the junk. He searched around the footwell and under the passenger seat. Under the driver's seat, and then the back seats. But still nothing. He checked the trunk, with the same result. He emptied the copious contents of the glove compartment onto the passenger seat and sifted through it all, like panning for gold. But the cylinder was nowhere.“Dougy! Is your hand okay?”He jumped. It was July standing behind him. She was wearing a heavy rain jacket, a pair of large, muddy hiking boots on her feet. She clasped Dora's see-through umbrella, her head ensconced in the deep dome, bright eyes peering at Doug through the plastic.“Hey… July…” Doug raised his right hand.“Ah, Damn it. I'm so sorry, Doug. I really don't know what to say.”The bandana was now filthy, its delicate textile beginning to fray. “It's okay. Just a small nip. I'm gonna clean it properly when I get to the office.”“You should go see Dr Hubble,” July replied. “It's bad enough Ramses bit you. I'd hate to see it get infected.”Doug nodded, “It's no problem, July. I was gonna get Hubble to look at it anyway. You had any luck finding Ramses?”“No. No luck. I just swept the village for him,” said July, dejectedly. “Sorry about not getting back to your message. I was out of range. It was urgent that I finished my research today. Anyway, I'll give it until the end of the day. If he's not back, then I'll start worrying. But I really don't know what's got into him!”July peered past Doug. “You cleaning up?” she asked.Doug sighed. “Nope. I'm looking for that little cylinder thing. I lost it.”“Ah,” July tilted her umbrella back and poked her head out. “Boy in the woods got it, eh?”Doug laughed, “Wow, I haven't heard that one in ages. Yeah, well, maybe another kid got loose from Leek Point and decided to do the most specific car burglary in history,” joked Doug.July raised an eyebrow, “This is less a car than it is a black hole, Dougy!”Doug laughed.“Isn't it interesting how this little cylinder specializes in getting lost?” July continued. “It had to be lost by someone else for you to have found it. And I lost it a couple times this morning. And now?”“The only thing I can think of is a couple hitchhikers from this morning,” Doug replied. “I gave one of them my business card, and opened the glove compartment to get it. Could've fallen out then. But it would have to be on the car floor somewhere if that happened.”“Or else one of the hitchhikers stole it. I mean, you could probably drive across the island with your eyes closed, Dougy. But dammit if you ever take them off the road, you're so careful! You wouldn't notice an elephant sitting next to you!” July winked.“Well, both of them were from that retreat,” Doug explained.“Ah-ha!” July jumped, “now we're talkin! This is directly related to my research. What were they like?”“Not really the stealing type,” replied Doug. “I mean, they were a bit odd, definitely new agey, but I wouldn't guess they'd do something like that.”“You just can't tell with people. But, Sherlock, let's follow a process of elimination,” July stuck her pinky finger up in the air, “One: you blacked out and only dreamed that you put the cylinder thing in the glove compartment. But in reality it is somewhere else: back in your office, lost along the road, whatever. Maybe you'll find it. Maybe not.” She raised another finger, “Two: it somehow fell out of the glove compartment, and unbeknownst to all present dropped into the pocket of one of the hitchhikers. Then they wandered off with it.” Her third finger shot up, “Or three: one of them stole it. Whether for kicks or some other reason that we cannot, as yet, or potentially ever, ascertain.” July stared intensely out from her umbrella, her three fingers now pointing at Doug.“If it was stolen it couldn't have been the first guy. I saw it in the glove compartment when I gave him my card. It was definitely still in there,” said Doug.“What was he like?” July asked.“He was a bit younger, I'd guess in his late twenties. Looked trendy but outdoorsy, if you know what I mean. He gave me this,” Doug handed Shining Wind's business card to July.July gave it a grave look. “Well, Mr Shining Wind, you're not exactly suspect number one… yet. What about the second one?”“If we think it was stolen, then it'd have to be Marcus who did it,” Doug replied. “She was the only one who might have had a chance to take it. But then, I would've had to be so focused on the road that I wasn't aware of anything else. But we chatted the entire journey. I would have seen her do that”“Her?” asked July.“Yeah, she inherited her name from one of the retreat's founders after they died. Her name's Elisabeth…”“Right. Marcus. Presents as a she. Birth name, Elisabeth. Check,” July's glare pierced through the warped plastic of the umbrella. “What kind of vibe did she have?”“Friendly. I mean, she's a bit odd. The first guy had a similar vibe, but more like a salesman.”“I wonder what they really get up to on the mountain?” July drifted a bit, “No one even knows how many people are living there. There could be hundreds of them. Even thousands.”“Marcus did ask me to look at their internet tomorrow. So I guess I might see what it's like.”“Right,” July continued, “From a distance, it looks like a military installation, or goddamn prison. But it's big. And they're making it bigger.”“You've been up there?” Doug asked.“Research,” July said in a hush then smiled and winked, putting a finger to her lips. “I climbed Arbiter's Perch last week. Then made a detour on my way down. If you do it right, you can see the plateau clearly.”Doug smiled, “Secret ops again?”“Just you wait until the town hall meeting tonight,” July whispered. Her eyes narrowed. “You remember the old dump?”“Yeah,” Doug whispered back.“And how a landslide blocked it off in the 80s?”“Yeah.”“What if told you that there was a hidden trail leading up there? And, what if I told you that to access that trial you had to come up the steep incline from Leek Point?”“Okay?” Doug nodded. “I'd say… and?”“And what if I told you that this hidden trial is quite busy these days?”“Okay… I guess I'd ask you who was using it?”“Exactly.”“So you've seen people using it?”July nodded. “Then you'd have to ask me why they're using it.”“Okay So who's doing what at the old dump? And why?”July put a finger to her lips again. “It's about who buries what in the old dump. But I can't say more. Not until I've got the story right. Gotta get all the words in the right order, as they say.” This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit apocalypserock.substack.com