2040

Two fighter jets tore through the clear sky, and Gaberial, with a steely resolve, resisted the urge to flinch as they streaked past, flying perilously low. Their thunderous passage sent shockwaves through her, but she marched on, projecting an air of belonging. Few around her bothered to glance upwards. They were more used to this than her.

All around her, the military was fortifying their established containment area. She knew that time was ticking, and soon, the perimeter would be impenetrable, cutting her off from the story of the century—perhaps even altering history.

Clad in the military fatigues she had acquired, she seamlessly blended in with the crowd. Her military pack concealed her non-military gear and the hat shielded her from unwanted attention. She fervently hoped that she was perceived as just another technician going about her business along the perimeter. She had a distance to walk to get here. She had gotten through the checkpoint at a run-down gas station a little further down the road.

She could see the old stone walls with plants growing up them, with the infamous gate slightly open. Her mouth was dry and her nerves were on edge, fear gripping her heart, but she pressed on. A three-layer defence guarded the perimeter. First, razor wire surrounded the walls at about a three-meter distance. The local forest had been cut back in many areas to allow this. Next were the recently set-up flood lights, placed at regular intervals and, when lit, gave no point of unlit area. Finally, a whole company of heavily armed soldiers stood watching the site they were blockading. They were spread around the length of the perimeter at set intervals.

She knew that further back, they were organising an entire armoured battalion. Rumour was that the US Government was planning a full assault on the site after the disastrous joint Federal Law Enforcement raid.

This was turning into a whole military encampment that was looking to stay for a while. Tents were multiplying all around, and communication masts sprouted from the closet to the perimeter. She could hear the radio chatter around her from different sources. There was a running joke online that it was not who was trying to run this in the Government but who was not.

Checking her watch, she noticed that she only had a few more minutes before the distraction she had placed triggered. She had to move faster. There would only be a brief window of opportunity.

Walking more purposefully, she moved faster towards the gap in the razor wire before the gates. According to rumours, the government had been trying to communicate with the person or thing running the site but had failed so far.

The guards were not paying attention to her facing the gates.

Any minute now, she thought. It was make-or-break time.

Behind her, the timer reached zero, and the combined firecrackers and smoke bombs went off near a tent where she had hidden them. This drew everyone's attention, and cries of alarm were heard quickly.

The three guards at the gap looked around, weapons ready, and looked towards the tents as she passed, seeming to walk to the right. The guards shifted away from their positions to understand better what was happening.

She had to move now.

Turning, she sprinted past the razor wire towards the gate.

“Hey, you. Halt!”

“Perimeter breach!”

“Someone running for the gates!”

She heard these and others as she ran at her best forward. She prayed under her breath as her lungs burned from the abuse, she was putting them through. Fear and adrenaline pushed her legs to move faster—her heartbeat soon, thunder in her ears.

“Halt, or we will open fire!” A loudspeaker behind her called out, but she kept going.

No bullets came.

She reached the gates and tripped as she passed through them.

She skidded across the stone and stopped breathing hard, realising she had made it. She was briefly euphoric that she understood… she had made it. Fear quickly returned and she sat up and looked around.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

She was in a courtyard-like area with a plinth at the end and two paths leading away north and south. The day was ending, and the shadows from the mountains were beginning to cover the area, so she stood and looked upon…. a city of graves.

“By the blessed Mary, what is this place?” She had expected something, but not this. She lapsed into a stunned silence.

“Impressive, is it not?”

The voice to her immediate left made her jump. One moment, she was alone, and then a man stood there.

“Jesus Christ!” She exclaimed, startled as she stumbled back from him.

“Not quite.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Gaberial took a few seconds to collect herself, and she knew who or what stood before her. What she saw was a man around six feet five inches tall, broad, with short brown hair and a similarly cut beard. He was dressed in a jet-black tailored suit with a red shirt and black tie. He spoke with a deep voice and with a slight British accent.

Oh yes, she knew him.

“Y-your him.” She stammered, still recovering from the shock and the sprint to get here. On the perimeter, she could hear a lot of movement. The flood light suddenly came on, pouring light through the gates. The intense, harsh light made her squint as equally dark shadows were formed by the light.

“Last time I checked, I was, me.” With his answer, he smiled slightly, totally unfazed by the chaos her arrival was causing or the light nearly blinding her. “But to business first, my dear. What brings you to my humble abode?”

Gaberial took a few seconds to collect herself and stood straighter.

“I am Gaberial Santez of the Independent Press Corp and I would like to interview you!”

Her statement caused a reaction she did not expect; he laughed loud and heartily. She felt a bit deflated and hurt at his response.

“A reporter! Well, I have not had one of your ilk come through here in a few years.” He said, recovering himself. Amusement still in his voice and on his face. “Why, pray tell, do you wish this, Miss Santez?”

Gaberial was unsure if she was now being mocked; before her, it was the biggest story in the country and possibly the planet.

“I am a reporter and that is what I do. Find a story and tell it!” She answered, knowing it was true because she believed in what she did. The figure before her looked at her for a few seconds and nodded slightly to himself.

“An interview, no.” He said, making her sick at all she had to do to get this far. “But my story, I will give you.”

This caused her to perk up and fill her chest with hope. Maybe it had not all been in vain.

“I take it you have the means to record this conversation?”

“Yes, I have a satellite uplink kit in my bag, along with my smartphone and a battery pack that will last for ten hours.” She had come prepared. The man again nodded.

“Do you plan to livestream our conversation to the world?”

“Through the uplink, yes. If we are jammed, then my phone will record everything anyway.”

“I see you have planned this out. Very well. Set up your uplink just outside the gates. Will you need to stay attached to it for transmission?”

“No, I have a three-meter cable. Why may I ask?” This request confused her. Surely, they could transmit from here or further in.

“Take a moment and truly look at this place.” He motioned his arm further into the site. Gaberial did as she was asked, and a few minutes later, it dawned on her what he was telling her to see.

“Wait, that’s not…”

“I assure you it is. Please follow my instructions.” She staggered a little as she unslung her pack and fumbled for the clasps while still looking at the sight before her. The man just waited.

Gaberial pulled her attention away and began setting up her uplink. She unpacked it and started attaching the parts together. Testing the unit, it pinged her phone. It was operational, and she placed it just outside the gates.

Several voices called on her to leave the site and return to the perimeter, but she ignored them. Attaching the cable to her phone, she returned to the figure who had just passively watched everything she was doing. The sound of a gong striking was her alert setting, which drew her attention to the phone that told her that the uplink had been established.

Dozens of messages suddenly began appearing from friends, colleagues and family. She had been out of contact for a few days. She snapped a quick photograph of the figure and sent a message to her boss with the simple line, “Made it.” She got a reply seconds later that the servers were ready. A tripod was set up, and her phone was attached to it. The floodlights were causing no end of problems, but the autofocus features were relined to get the best image possible.

“Before we start, can I ask you a question?” She asked hesitantly.

“You may, but be warned, I may not answer it, or then again I might.” The slight smile was back on his face.

“Are you a demon?” She knew it was a stupid question, but her catholic upbringing was playing its part. He paused before answering.

“To some, an angel to others.” The smile was still there, and she felt he was laughing at a private joke she did not understand. Her phone notified her that the transmission uplink was ready causing her to focus on it. She pressed record and moved into the frame with the man. She put on her professional face. This was going to make or break her. She took a few steady breaths before beginning. A beep told her to start.

“This is Gaberial Santez from the IPC reporting live from within the Idaho exclusion zone. I am here with the figure from the earlier federal raid, who is identified as the individual who runs this site. You identified yourself then as the Keeper. Is that your name?”

“Name and role, I am afraid.”

“I had asked to interview you, but you have instead decided to give me your story, so can you please begin? But I will interject with questions if I feel it is warranted.”

The man's smile was still there; he was partially facing her and the phone camera like her.

“Well, it all started while I thought I was dreaming….”