Met another outsider today. Deborah.
Was sneaking out of my hotel-room to steal some coffee from the office when I bumped into her. Late twenties. Beanie. Dark green parka. Skinny jeans with a bunch of ear and nose rings. She seemed cool. Still don't trust her, but she said that she had the room next to mine. I asked her why she was in town. She said that her boyfriend (of course) had gone missing, and that he'd left her a voicemail before he did saying something out Redwood Falls. I asked her if he mentioned anything about Antlers, or masked people.
She looked at me like I'd gone crazy. Hate to admit it, but I'm starting to feel like I might be.
Anyway, I spilled the beans. Who I was, who I worked for, why I was here. She almost laughed at me. Said I was working with a bunch of cyber-terrorists. I told her that was bullshit, and that the Feds were trying to make us look bad to keep us quiet. I don't know if she bought it, but she wished me luck and fast-walked back to her hotel room.
In retrospect, the fact that I haven't shaved for nearly a week probably didn't help my case.
Managed to snag a couple bags of coffee before the clerk noticed. Spotted Virgil watching me from around the back of the hotel. I followed him. He was hiding inside a dumpster, only peeking his head out to talk to me. I have to admit, I giggled a little bit at it. He held up one of the dumpster lids and handed me a hand-scrawled note on a burger wrapper. I caught a little bit of what he actually looked like in the light, and I think he was wearing one of those skin-tight green screen suits, only painted black. Up closer, I could see more of his mask and it looked old. It had this aged, yellow tint to it.
I started reading the note, and he whispered "better dead than red" before he slammed the dumpster lid shut and wouldn't come out.
Life's a circus, and I'm the clown.
The note went as follows.
"There's a Church in this town. You won't see it on any street corner or on any hills. You won't see it anywhere you might look, because it doesn't want to be found. She knows that you're here, and she knows what you're going to do. Keep that pistol close, because they're coming for you.
NO PICKLES, EXTRA ONION."
I think that end part might have already been there. There was another note scrawled on the other side.
"Present headed your way. Courtesy of my boss."
Next time I see that freaky fuck, I'm finding out what's really going on.
Coffee was good. Needs a bit more oompf.
