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Speaker 1: [gentle music]

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Speaker 1: Everhouse. Chapter Two: Predator.

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Speaker 1: Freddy and Trent walked through the
third dark room in a row. Half the doors here

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Speaker 1: were marked out with black X's. Most
of the other half had cheerful little signs

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Speaker 1: like Keep Out or Private Allotment.
That meant precious few doors for

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Speaker 1: their patrol route. They moved
quietly now, trapped between the northeastern

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Speaker 1: exclusion zone and Elias' dwindling,
but aggressively advertised, private rooms.

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Speaker 1: Trent tested the knob on one of
Elias' doors. It was locked. Of course it was.

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Speaker 1: If they were all locked, that didn't
leave them a lot of escape options. It was

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Speaker 1: either run back the way they came or
take the scenic route. He looked at the

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Speaker 1: closest marked out door. Bad company
that way.

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Speaker 1: Trent cracked open the next door on
their route and pushed his lantern through

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Speaker 1: before him, peeking into the room
before opening it all the way. Another dark
room.

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Speaker 1: "Shouldn't there be lanterns out
here?" [door creaks] "Should be."

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Speaker 1: "Isn't that weird?"

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Speaker 1: "Yep."

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Speaker 1: The next room was a hallway with two
doors on the right, but it stretched into the

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Speaker 1: darkness beyond his lantern light.
They would have to step in to see farther.

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Speaker 1: Trent took a deep breath and patted
the two emergency flares sticking out of his

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Speaker 1: back pocket. It was a poor weapon,
but it was something. He took the lead into the

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Speaker 1: hallway, not because he wanted to,
but because he didn't trust Freddy's nerves.

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Speaker 1: "Stay 10 steps behind me. Keep it
quiet." Freddy nodded

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Speaker 1: eagerly. The boards under his feet
creaked and groaned as he walked. There were a

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Speaker 1: lot of floors like that in the Maple
rooms. He supposed even the maker got lazy now

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Speaker 1: and again.

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Speaker 1: Every few feet, he paused to listen,
trying to ignore the sounds of Freddy

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Speaker 1: following him. Walk, pause, walk,

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Speaker 1: pause. It would take them a week to
complete the patrol route at this rate,

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Speaker 1: but it would be an eternity if
something leapt out of this darkness to make a
meal

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Speaker 1: of them. Finally, the door at the end
of the hall came into his lantern light. The

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Speaker 1: hallway was empty. He released a
little bit of tension he'd been holding, but

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Speaker 1: something felt wrong. It wasn't just
the missing lanterns. Gloom

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Speaker 1: banes were heavy. They didn't go
missing by accident. Shallow grooves in the
wooden

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Speaker 1: floor showed a path where the lantern
had been dragged from this room. Freddy was

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Speaker 1: about to speak, but Trent's instincts
started screaming. He quickly put a finger in

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Speaker 1: front of his lips and walked as
quietly as he could to the door in front of
them. He

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Speaker 1: tilted his head and pressed an ear to
the next door. Floorboards creaked in the

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Speaker 1: next room, and he reflexively took in
a sharp breath. [floorboards creak] "Wh- who's

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Speaker 1: there?" Trent's eyes went wide, and
he cooked Freddy with a

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Speaker 1: wildfire stare. Silence meant
silence.

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Speaker 1: Footsteps came toward them from the
other room. Trent backpedaled away from the

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Speaker 1: door, holding the lantern out in
front of him. The footsteps stopped on the other

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Speaker 1: side of the door. Trent sniffed at
the air as his intuition screamed louder still,

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Speaker 1: desperately trying to tell him
something. "Do you smell that?" "What

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Speaker 1: is it?"

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Speaker 1: He took a step back. "Don't open that
door." [door creaks] It was a musty, wet

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Speaker 1: smell, and it grew stronger the
closer he got to the door. "Did you bring the

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Speaker 1: paint?" "Yeah, just a sec."

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Speaker 1: Freddy pulled the pack off his back
and started fumbling around in it with shaking

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Speaker 1: hands. He pulled out a can of small
black paint. Trent simply stared at the door

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Speaker 1: while he did it. Freddy dipped a
small wide brush in the paint and handed it to

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Speaker 1: Trent. "Great." He took the brush and
stepped toward the door.

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Speaker 1: There was something in that room,
standing just on the other side of the door. He

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Speaker 1: reached out a shaking hand and
silently painted a large black X on the door.
Then he

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Speaker 1: took a step backward and the floor
creaked loudly underneath him. Something slammed

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Speaker 1: into the other side of the door.
Trent dropped the brush and scrambled away,

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Speaker 1: breathing in short, panicked gasps.
They'd almost opened it. They'd almost opened

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Speaker 1: that door. By the time Trent got up,
Freddy was already running down the hall, the

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Speaker 1: lantern light receding, leaving Trent
in deep darkness. There was the sound of

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Speaker 1: something wet slapping against the
other side of the door. That got him moving.

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Speaker 1: Trent got up and started chasing
after the light, willing himself not to panic,

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Speaker 1: forcing himself to walk slowly,
deliberately. He caught up to where Freddy
waited in

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Speaker 1: the next room. "Where do we go,
Trent?" Home What about patrol? W-

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Speaker 1: what do we tell the others? The
truth.

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Speaker 1: That it was over. They'd tried to
contain the spread, and they'd failed.

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Speaker 1: Help wasn't coming. Whatever was on
the other side of that door, it wasn't small.

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Speaker 1: Well, we'll call a meeting in central
courtyard tomorrow morning. We might have a

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Speaker 1: few months to pack up. A distant
sound stopped him short. Freddy started to

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Speaker 1: reply, but Trent motioned for silence
again, and then Freddy caught the sound, too.

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Speaker 1: They both turned to listen. In the
dark hallway they'd just left, a

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Speaker 1: doorknob rattled. There was a soft
click as the latch came free,

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Speaker 1: followed by the light creak of hinges
in darkness, the sound that changed

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Speaker 1: everything. With a slow, almost
dreamlike motion, Trent pulled

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Speaker 1: one of the emergency flares from his
back pocket and snapped the top off. A gout of

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Speaker 1: bright red flame burst from it. Then
he rolled it into the darkened hallway. It

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Speaker 1: rolled a dozen feet, and thankfully,
the flame didn't catch on anything, burning

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Speaker 1: harmlessly in the middle of the
hallway.

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Speaker 1: Something tall and black glided into
the far edge of the torchlight, a twitching

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Speaker 1: creature almost nine feet tall made
of jet black tar. It reached toward the

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Speaker 1: flare with a long, spindly hand like
the branch of a courtyard tree. The

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Speaker 1: semi-solid flesh bubbled and sizzled
in the bright light. Then it snuffed out the

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Speaker 1: light between two foot-long fingers,
and the hallway fell back into darkness.

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Speaker 1: Run, Freddy. Trent heard his heart
pounding in his head. He opened and closed

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Speaker 1: doors, checking only occasionally to
make sure that they were still following the

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Speaker 1: gray path line back. He kept the
presence of mind to close the doors again behind

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Speaker 1: him. Whatever that thing was, it
could open doors. It didn't seem

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Speaker 1: especially good at it. They would be
fine. They would be fine as long as they kept

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Speaker 1: running. But where else had this
thing gotten to in the past few weeks, past day,

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Speaker 1: the past few hours? Trent's terror
redoubled. Was Marcy safe?

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Speaker 1: Surely. But what if there were more?
What the hell was that?

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Speaker 1: Freddy panted heavily. Trent had to
go slower not to lose the man. He wanted

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Speaker 1: desperately to leave him here and run
to Marcy to be certain she was safe. Cob.

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Speaker 1: Scary one. They don't get that big,
do they? It wasn't

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Speaker 1: the size that concerned him. It was
that hand, that deliberate way it

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Speaker 1: snuffed out the flare. It understood.
That understanding scared him

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Speaker 1: far more than anything else. It
wasn't something he was ready to talk about.

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Speaker 1: A bell started ringing in the
distance, and Trent's blood ran cold. Is that...

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Speaker 1: Yes, it's the breaching bell. Come
on. They were under attack. His home

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Speaker 1: was under attack. Trent shoved the
lantern into Freddy's arms and started
sprinting.

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Speaker 1: He broke his last emergency flare for
light. He was running so fast he slammed into

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Speaker 1: the next door, rebounded, then threw
it open and was running again.

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Speaker 1: Go to the courtyard. His mind
narrowed to a single purpose. Marcy was

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Speaker 1: alone. Not my goddamn family. He'd
lost everything.

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Speaker 1: Everything except that. As long as he
still had her, as long as they

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Speaker 1: lived, he had everything he needed.
But if he lost them... His

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Speaker 1: eyes flicked to the burning flare in
his hand. Nothing matched the raw, destructive

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Speaker 1: power of a human being unhinged. If
it came to it, he would show the

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Speaker 1: sprawl what a monster truly looked
like. I'm coming, baby. Hold on. Trent

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Speaker 1: sprinted down the hallway, following
the cerulean blue line. He glanced left where

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Speaker 1: the iron basin's yellow line branched
off. Part of him wanted to check on them, make

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Speaker 1: sure they heard the alarm. The iron
basins were old. But he kept following the

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Speaker 1: cerulean line. He had to. He skidded
to a stop outside their front door. It was

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Speaker 1: closed. The moment he put a hand on
the doorknob, though, a woman spoke from the

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Speaker 1: other side. Touch that doorknob and
you're gonna eat a whole lot of lead. Keep

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Speaker 1: walking. Marce? Marcy, it's me. The

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Speaker 1: door flew open and Marcy crashed into
him. Trent didn't say anything. He simply

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Speaker 1: started crying, crying for everything
he'd almost lost, for all the lives he

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Speaker 1: almost didn't live. You almost shot
me. I'm so proud of you.

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Speaker 1: She pulled back and put her hands on
the side of his face. What's happening? A bit

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Speaker 1: of darkness bled back into Trent's
sense of relief. They were safe now, but for how

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Speaker 1: long? Come on. Let's get to the
courtyard. I'll tell you

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Speaker 1: on the way.

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Speaker 1: He started down the hall at a pace he
thought his heavily pregnant wife could

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Speaker 1: manage. Wait. Then she ran back to
her rooms and returned a moment later with a

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Speaker 1: double-barrel shotgun over her
shoulder. He gave her a wide grin.

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Speaker 1: That's not gonna stop a cob. That's
fine. At least I'll give him a bad day first.

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Speaker 1: [laughs]

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Speaker 1: It felt good to laugh. Even when
things fell apart, especially then,

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Speaker 1: Marcy grinned back at him. Besides,
it's not just for the Cobbs. We're about to make

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Speaker 1: some hard choices with a lot of
scared people, and I wanted two votes. Two?

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Speaker 1: Yeah, one for myself and one on
account I'm holding a gun.

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Speaker 1: Trent's spine stiffened just a
little. She was going to make him look bad.
Well,

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Speaker 1: that was a given, but he could at
least be a worthy husband.

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Speaker 1: On the way, Trent told Marcy
everything he'd seen on patrol. She asked very
detailed

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Speaker 1: questions about the sprawl creature
they'd seen. He almost felt guilty. He could

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Speaker 1: tell her so little. They were getting
close to the central courtyard and the sound

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Speaker 1: of the breaching bell. She gave his
arm a little squeeze. He did the right thing,

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Speaker 1: running. Didn't feel that way. He
knew that was foolish, though, so he didn't
voice

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Speaker 1: it. Instead, he gave voice to the
other problem, the one they'd been kicking

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Speaker 1: around for almost a year now.

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Speaker 1: We can't stay, Marce. We can't stay
anymore.

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Speaker 1: We knew it would be hard out here. He
didn't reply. Didn't have

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Speaker 1: to. They both knew the script. They
knew it like the back of their hands. But

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Speaker 1: tonight had changed things. It was
suicidal to stay now. How long are we

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Speaker 1: gonna run?

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Speaker 1: How long, Trent? I can't lose you.
And I can't live like that

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Speaker 1: again. We were dying there, Trent. We
can't go back. If we stay, we

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Speaker 1: are going to die. Some things are
worth dying for. He

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Speaker 1: wanted to scream at this woman. He
wanted to punch the wall until his hands bled.

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Speaker 1: But he wanted to kiss her even more.
Here was a burning spirit. Here

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Speaker 1: was the woman he loved. But it was
misplaced. This fight wasn't winnable.

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Speaker 1: It was a sacrifice without purpose.
And our baby. Is it worth our baby?

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Speaker 1: Marcy closed her eyes tight and
turned away. A stream of fresh tears running

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Speaker 1: down her face. You know it isn't.

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Speaker 1: She stopped walking. We were so
close, Trent. So close to

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Speaker 1: getting away with it. With what? With
a good life.

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Speaker 1: We almost had it. Trent felt tears on
his face then.

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Speaker 1: After years of cramped, frantic,
constantly terrified living, they had

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Speaker 1: escaped to the outskirts. Their own
little corner of paradise away from the

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Speaker 1: mistakes and the burdens of the past.
And now it was being taken from

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Speaker 1: them. A fire lit in Trent Murdock's
stomach. And

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Speaker 1: now it was being taken from them.
Despite all

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Speaker 1: rationality, he saw her point clearly
then. This was their

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Speaker 1: home and monsters were trying to take
it. And they were going to destroy them

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Speaker 1: without being killed. Somehow. It was
that simple.

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Speaker 1: They stopped just outside the
exterior door to Central Courtyard.

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Speaker 1: Trent turned and looked into his
wife's eyes and said the words she'd been
waiting a

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Speaker 1: year to hear. This is our home. Our
home. And we're going to

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Speaker 1: fight like hell to keep it. But we do
it smart. If we can't do it smart, we'll

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Speaker 1: just have to find a new home. But
we're never going back.

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Speaker 1: She beamed up at him and steadied the
shotgun on her shoulder. I knew you'd come

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Speaker 1: around eventually.

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Speaker 1: Trent gently pulled the shaking woman
away from the breaching bell. Anyone who could

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Speaker 1: hear it was already here. The shocked
look didn't leave Wanda's face, though. He

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Speaker 1: surveyed the 40-something people
spread out in a semicircle around the bell. They

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Speaker 1: removed hands from ears, but no one
spoke. Barely contained panic was written across

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Speaker 1: their faces. Freddie had made it
back, fortunately. Trent didn't need that guilt

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Speaker 1: piled on top of his already heaping
mountain.

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Speaker 1: There were about 20 residents still
missing, though. He just had to hope that they

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Speaker 1: were holed up in their allotments as
Marcy had been, waiting for the all-clear.

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Speaker 1: Waiting for someone else to make
their problem go away. Trouble was, that

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Speaker 1: person didn't exist. The residents of
the Maple Rooms were silent, holding each

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Speaker 1: other, whispering to curious
wide-eyed children. Looking at him, for some
reason.

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Speaker 1: Marcy leaned close to whisper in his
ear. Say something. Why? You're better at

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Speaker 1: this. Yes, but they like you. She
nudged him in the ribs with an elbow, and

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Speaker 1: he cleared his throat. In the few
minutes they'd been in the courtyard, he'd

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Speaker 1: gathered what happened. His worst
nightmares had come true. The sprawl had gotten

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Speaker 1: out and had taken a life. It just
hadn't been Marcy. Wanda had found her

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Speaker 1: husband, Elias, dead. From what Trent
heard, it wasn't pretty.

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Speaker 1: She'd followed a trail of open doors
thinking someone was trying to steal something,

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Speaker 1: and instead found her semi-digested
husband laying on the floor. She hadn't seen

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Speaker 1: that big cob, though.

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Speaker 1: "We lost a good man tonight. A
neighbor. A friend." That

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Speaker 1: last one was a stretch. Elias
couldn't claim many friends among the other
residents,

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Speaker 1: but hopefully no one would correct
him now that he was dead. "And I'm pretty sure

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Speaker 1: Freddy and I saw the cob that did
it." His voice caught as he thought about the

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Speaker 1: monster they'd seen less than an hour
ago. It could walk right in here. There was

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Speaker 1: nothing to stop it. He lifted his
chin and tried to meet the eyes of each person
as

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Speaker 1: he spoke. "Frankly, we should run. We
should all run."

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Speaker 1: A wave of murmuring went through the
group. "But we should have run a long time

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Speaker 1: ago, too. There's only one reason we
all stayed when all the smarter folks left."

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Speaker 1: He heard a few nervous laughs. He
understood that reason now. "It's our

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Speaker 1: home." He saw them nodding. That was
all he needed to say.

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Speaker 1: "It's our home."

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Speaker 1: They didn't jump up and down cheering
for him. Everyone was still scared as hell.

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Speaker 1: That made sense, but it didn't change
what they had to do. "So let's

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Speaker 1: figure out how to take it back before
it's too late." He stepped into the

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Speaker 1: semicircle of neighbors, and the
group broke into a half-dozen quiet, nervous

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Speaker 1: conversations. Trent wasn't their
leader. They didn't have a leader. The mayor and

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Speaker 1: anyone with any semblance of
leadership had the good sense to leave a long
time ago.

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Speaker 1: It was just sixty-five people now.
Trent seemed like he knew what he was

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Speaker 1: doing, seemed like he had a plan.
Hopefully that was good enough. Freddy pulled

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Speaker 1: Trent aside. "You serious about
this?" "I have a plan." "Better be a hell

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Speaker 1: of a plan. They can open doors."
Trent nodded. At least one of them

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Speaker 1: could. There was a predator in town,
a big cob that broke the rules.

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Speaker 1: It was still just a cob, though. Cobs
weren't the apex predators of Everhouse. That

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Speaker 1: sole position belonged to the
lightslingers. Too bad there weren't many left.

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Speaker 1: The world had given up on the Maple
Rooms. Small towns like this weren't even worth

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00:20:44,586 --> 00:20:49,926
Speaker 1: sweeping out anymore, not with what
was happening in the South. No lightslingers

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Speaker 1: were coming. He didn't blame them.
"You still have that revolver?"

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Speaker 1: Freddy's eyes got very large. "You
said it didn't work." "It doesn't.

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Speaker 1: Not yet." Freddy leaned in very
close. "What's the plan?"

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Speaker 1: "I need you to find something for me.
Lenses. As many lenses as you can

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Speaker 1: find. Big ones. And something to
mount them on. Can you do that?" "Yeah, I can— I

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00:21:20,266 --> 00:21:25,406
Speaker 1: can get some from Phil, too." Trent
looked up at the pitch-black sky over the

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Speaker 1: courtyard. It was a few hours until
dawn. "And I need them by first light,

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Speaker 1: by the replenishment." Freddy nodded
eagerly and then ran off without further

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Speaker 1: questions. He just seemed happy to
have a job, a purpose to pour his restlessness

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Speaker 1: into. They didn't have any
lightslingers around here, but maybe...

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Speaker 1: maybe they could figure out the next
best thing. They'd have to. The night after

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Speaker 1: replenishment was feeding time.
Anything lurking out there in the dark would be

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Speaker 1: waiting for their food sources to
come back. Once that happened, things would

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Speaker 1: start moving fast. Their problems
were going to get a lot bigger,

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00:22:09,926 --> 00:22:15,766
Speaker 1: figuratively and literally. No
pressure. He

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Speaker 1: watched Marcy walk over to a group of
children playing in the grass, and she leaned

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00:22:21,326 --> 00:22:27,086
Speaker 1: down to speak to them. "Hey, kids.
Who wants to learn how to make a barricade?"

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Speaker 1: [outro jingle]