Spencer sat with his back to one of the Ghosts, enjoying what shade the large, twisted stone could offer. The ride from the Workshop to Bad End had been long, hot, and dusty. Spencer had spent the last couple of days crammed in the back of a crowded pickup truck, at the mercy of the pounding sun. The combination of shade and stretching his legs was putting him in an even better mood than he would have thought.

And there was an excitement in the air. The Bad Enders were milling around anxiously in the center of town, awaiting Alex's appearance. Alex said that today was a red letter day, which was a thing he said from time to time. Alex had told Spencer the phrase had something to do with old calendars, but in Spencer's experience when Alex said that it was a red letter day, it meant there was going to be blood.

Alex didn't come to Bad End as much as he used to, because he said that people might look for him here. When he did turn up, however, they went absolutely crazy for it. Bad Enders were their own special lot. They wore an absurd number of buckles on their clothes, said 'still not dead" instead of hello, and several times a year they covered their faces in red or gray chalk.

The worst of the worst didn't live here. People like Blaze or Mr. Timothy tended to stay out in the Breaks, or drift from one of Alex's hidey-holes to another. Folks like Spencer and his family, who Spencer thought of as normal people, generally kept homes in the small towns beyond the Ring. No, to live in Bad End you had to be a certain combination of reliable and weird.

Still, Spencer didn't mind coming here, mostly because he got to see Christine.

Christine was about a year older than Spencer, and always wore short shorts over her long legs. She had curly chocolate hair, and what Spencer considered to be the world's finest example of wide brown eyes. Christine called him twerp and liked to grab his ear lobe, always the left one, and twist until he hollered. Alex assured Spencer that if she touched him, it meant she liked him, a belief that Spencer held on to with both hands.

Spencer found her in the crowd, and watched her for a bit. When she noticed him, she smiled, and then dragged her thumb across her neck in a throat cutting gesture. Spencer's heart fluttered in his chest.

Nope, he wasn't putting that torch down anytime soon.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The crowd hushed and stiffened as Alex emerged the house he used as an office. Spencer stood up as Alex made his way toward what he always called his soapbox, even though Spencer was pretty sure the crate had actually once held whiskey,

Alex leapt up onto the crate like a cat, all legs and balance, and then leaned slightly forward, shoulders full of swagger, staring out at the crowd like it was something delicious, before spreading his hands and beginning the speech the same way he began most of his speeches.

"Who do you trust?"

Bad End roared Alex's own name back at him, and Spencer's boss's smile widened.

"I want to talk to you today about fear. Now, there is a drawerful of things for my Enders to be afraid of. Witches. Filthy scavengers. Roughcoats," he said, rolling his eyes as the crowd laughed.

"Other towns who might want what we have, and big metal monsters that want to kill us. Now, the Old Gods made us out two things, a desire for nookie and a fear of death, and that means that fear can be useful.

Fear is what tells us to take cover when the sky turns green, to move in the other direction when we see a mountain lion, and to get off the Mayor's daughter and run when the Mayor comes home.

But fear is also limiting. Fear is a harness that holds us back, keeps us from being our best, keeps us from pulling a gun on that fat prick Mayor and saying 'I love her. I need her. I'm taking her. Now get the hell out of here, I'm the Mayor now!'

And if Bad End is about freedom, like your Uncle Alex says it is, then we must slip that harness. Because any real freedom must include freedom from fear. After today, any of my Bad Enders will be able to walk the earth unmolested, and look any man or woman in the eye and say 'I am of Bad End, and I do as I will,' and that man or woman will back down, their doughy face full of fear and respect, because they will know, beyond the shadow of all doubt, that we can and we will bring down thunder on those who would get in our way. They will know what we've always known, that when you mess with the End…"

"The End messes you up!" came the cry back from the crowed, and Spencer thought it was even more enthusiastic than usual. Christine was bouncing up and down.

"The plan is in motion," Alex continued, "and it is very nearly finished. But today, I need your help. I won't lie, today could be hard. Today could be dangerous. There might even be aspects of the day that some of you may find unpleasant. But after today, you will walk without fear. Your children will walk without fear. Your children's children's children's will walk this Earth without fear. The Gods themselves will crumble before the passion of your hearts and the fury of your souls. I have seen it in my dreams, and today you will help me make it true. Today, fear is cancelled!"

The crowd was in a frenzy now, and Alex had only one more question.

"Who wants to blow some shit up?"

Judging by their reaction, Spencer was pretty sure the Bad Enders did.