Go to the northwest corner of your plot, out as far as you can.

In the rusty afternoon glow, Alex read the line again. As far as I can, his mind repeated. The pickup bucked and bobbed along the dirt path between the crops. The tires did not kick up any dust, and therefore reveal his position, as the ground was still sodden from the recent downpour. Soon though, he’d have to switch on the headlights. Those would give him away, should anyone be looking for him.

His thoughts drifted to Eva. Alex was sure she’d recover quickly from the temple-incision he’d made; the implant hadn’t been deep, just below the surface. That’s not what worried him. If she was awake, she was fully capable of handling herself. But if she was still asleep, still sedated…then she’d be susceptible to…

He hit the brakes and the truck rocked to a stop. Ahead was the fence line to the property. He’d never been out this far. Alex scanned the area, turning in the driver’s seat a full 360 degrees. From the glove box he retrieved a flashlight, then pulled the handle on the door and exited. He appeared to be alone. Of course, the crops surrounded him, and they provided perfect cover should someone – or something – want to sneak up on him.

Approaching the fence, Alex glanced behind him. Just his shadow, a long, sprawling phantom, followed him. No one else, as far as he could tell. When he reached the fence, he noted that the land stretched outward into a flat grassland. The bold amber sky in the distance caused the nearby landscape to appear murky. Even still, it seemed to Alex to be…gray…devoid of color. Like all the vitality of the ground itself had been drained.

What am I looking for? Is this what I’m supposed to see?

Raising the journal, Alex read the next excerpt.

• From the short time I’ve been here, I’ve observed that circumstances aren’t exactly as they were where I came from, which means that maybe things turn out different here. Maybe you won’t need to alert your counterparts from a different place and time. Maybe you won’t die.

• I realize this is all very bizarre, but surely, you’ve seen things that cannot be explained. Have you noticed the shadows in the fields, moving on their own? Lights that shouldn’t be there? You will.

• Beyond the fence at the northwest perimeter you will find them. The humanoids.

When his eyes left the journal and raised to study the dim landscape, the twilight glare was comparatively brighter. As his eyes adjusted to the contrast between sky and shadow, figures sharpened into focus. Standing only a hundred feet from the fence, a row of silhouetted people stared back at him and Alex’s eyes bulged.

Christ!

He stumbled back, almost falling. When he’d retreated to the pickup truck, he noted that the figures hadn’t advanced. He waited, his heart throbbing in his throat. Ten seconds…twenty…thirty…

Not people…humanoids, he thought, using the other Alex’s terminology. They were motionless. Like a troupe of demonic mannequins that had escaped their ruined department store and lumbered to this farm. Why?

Risking a peek at the journal, Alex read again.

• They’re immobile. At least they were when I encountered them. They remained that way for the duration of my study.

Alex’s shrugging shoulders relaxed. His fists, gripping the journal like a vice, softened. Still, he remained vigilant, often lifting his gaze from the journal to the humanoids.

• They’re being kept at bay.

The line seemed to blink in his mind, like the awaiting cursor on a blank computer screen. What next, Alex? it seemed to implore. What will you do?

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They’re being kept at bay.

Good Lord, he thought. That means…they could move. They might move…if whatever’s holding them back fails…

Again, he surveyed the ashen grassland, with its assemblance of ghouls. Alex moved closer, right at the fence line. He stared longer this time, his sight honing, drinking up the darkness, taking in the sinister imposters. He switched on the flashlight and was captivated. He thought he’d seen all the weird the world had to offer, but these things… They were covered head to toe in what appeared to be woody vines that snaked around their limbs and torsos, into any orifice offered by their host. Appearing petrified, the humanoids glared with sightless cavities where eyes should be. Their mouths slacked open in a silent scream. Some reached out with arms frozen in place.

Alex swept the beam left, then right, a sour trail of moisture running the length of his spine. He hadn’t noticed their number in the gloom and suddenly wished he hadn’t used the flashlight. Revealed in the ghostly shaft was a legion of the humanoids, running the length of the perimeter.

Paralyzed by terror, Alex couldn’t move. He dared not move. Staring with macabre awe at the nightmarish congregation, with their deep, sunken sockets and dry gaping mouths permanently poised in a gasp, he felt their presence. He felt their agitation. It was akin to a violent, towering ocean wave about to crash down on an unsuspecting swimmer, momentarily held in place.

They’re being kept at bay.

Summoning the will to step away from the fence and his ghoulish audience, Alex backpedaled to the truck. He referenced the journal.

• The organism is here, just as in my world. You can’t see it – not yet. It doesn’t want you to. You haven’t woken from the fog it’s been holding over your and everyone else, clouding your thoughts. The implants embedded in your right temple helped to amplify the organism’s signal, its call. With it removed, your memory should gradually be restored.

Its call, thought Alex. He raised his eyes to the grassy region beyond the fence again, flashing an inspecting light over the humanoids. Still there.

• The signs are obvious: seed storms, always followed by rain. The rain is fertilizer. The organism is desperately trying to germinate. It’s doing this because it’s dying. Once it’s absorbed all it can, it will attempt to survive by migrating to another existence. It will do this by sending seeds through the breaches – to respawn itself elsewhere. The others and I never came to completely understand the entirety of the process. Otherwise, we would’ve stopped it by now. But maybe you can. You must try.

• Find Gray.

Alex felt as though he’d been slapped with a brick. But maybe you can.

Maybe?

And what if they couldn’t? The organism would keep migrating to different…planes of existence? The process repeating on a never-ending loop? Alex envisioned people – families – torn apart over and over and over again.

His family.

His mother and father…Henry and Annabelle.

He had to find the twins. Get to them, wherever they were. But how? Alex’s gaze fell on the journal once more. Two words seemed to shimmer on the page, urging his attention.

Find Gray.

A noise. Alex snapped to attention. It’d come from the other side of the fence; he was sure of it. Hesitantly, he lifted the flashlight. Probing the assembled humanoids, a lineup of dark specters in the dying twilight, Alex’s heart stopped. One of them had moved.