Chapter 2 The Address
The road home was almost deserted.
Streetlights flickered across Eric Vaughn's windshield in rhythmic intervals, bathing his face in pale gold before vanishing into the darkness behind him. The city had gone quiet, leaving only the low hum of his engine and the voice of a late-night radio host discussing tomorrow's weather.
Eric barely heard a word.
His mind kept replaying the same sound.
Click. Click.
Click...
A pause.
Then another sequence.
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"It was just a mutant," he muttered.
The words sounded hollow.
He'd killed hundreds of them. None had ever hesitated. None had looked him in the eyes. None had tried to make sounds that resembled language.
This one had.
The clicking echoed again inside his head.
Short. Short. Long.
Eric cursed under his breath and pulled into the parking lot of a closed convenience store. The headlights illuminated an empty brick wall while the engine continued to idle.
He reached into the center console, grabbed an old receipt and a pen, then began writing.
K
7
E
2
L
M
A
P
5
S
T
R
He stared at the letters.
"There has to be something..."
His training had included basic encryption and code recognition, but this wasn't any military cipher he recognized.
He rearranged the letters.
Nothing.
Tried again.
Still nothing.
Frustrated, he circled the only group that seemed familiar.
M.
A.
P.
Map.
His eyes narrowed.
Map...
Maple.
His heartbeat skipped.
He quickly added the remaining letters.
M-A-P-L-E.
"Maple..."
His gaze shifted to the numbers.
Then the letters left over.
S-T-R.
Street.
Eric slowly looked at the completed message.
725 Maple Street.
A cold chill crawled up his spine.
He grabbed his phone and searched the address.
A result appeared almost immediately.
725 Maple Street. Riverside District.
Fifteen minutes away.
He looked from the glowing screen to the receipt in his hand.
The mutant hadn't been speaking nonsense.
It had given him an address.
Without allowing himself time to reconsider, Eric shifted into drive.
---
The house was small but well cared for.
Blue siding.
White shutters.
A flower garden beneath the front window.
A faded bicycle rested on the lawn.
Nothing about it suggested monsters.
Eric sat inside his car for several minutes.
What exactly was he doing?
He couldn't exactly tell whoever lived there that a mutant had sent him.
Finally, he climbed out and walked to the front door.
He knocked.
After a few seconds, the door opened only a crack.
A woman peered out cautiously.
She looked exhausted. Brown hair tied into a loose ponytail. Dark circles beneath her eyes. Behind her, a little girl peeked around her leg while a toddler clung to her hand.
"Can I help you?"
Eric offered an apologetic smile.
"I hope so. Sorry for showing up this late."
She waited.
"My name's Eric."
No response.
"I... uh... I'm looking for Daniel Marcus."
Her expression changed almost imperceptibly.
"Why?"
Eric had rehearsed half a dozen lies during the drive over.
Every one of them vanished.
"We served together," he said instead.
Not entirely false.
The woman studied him.
"What unit?"
Eric's stomach tightened.
"Different branches," he answered smoothly. "We met during a joint training exercise a few years back."
Silence.
"I haven't been able to reach him," Eric continued. "Someone told me he lived here."
The woman looked over her shoulder before opening the door slightly wider.
"I'm Sarah."
She still didn't invite him inside.
"My husband isn't here."
"I figured."
"You figured?"
"I heard he'd gone missing."
Something in Sarah's expression softened.
Only a little.
After another long moment, she stepped aside.
"You can come in for a few minutes."
---
The living room was modest but warm.
Children's drawings covered the refrigerator.
Family photographs filled the shelves.
Eric's eyes landed on one frame almost immediately.
A young man wearing an Army Ranger uniform smiled proudly beside Sarah.
Daniel Marcus.
Healthy.
Alive.
"So," Sarah said carefully, remaining standing, "how did you know my husband?"
Eric kept his eyes on the photograph.
"We crossed paths during training."
"You were close?"
"No."
He chose honesty where he could.
"But he made an impression."
Sarah folded her arms.
"He did that."
Eric picked up the framed photograph.
"He joined the Army?"
"Right after high school."
"He always wanted to serve?"
She nodded.
"He believed people should protect those who couldn't protect themselves."
Eric swallowed.
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"Four months ago."
His pulse quickened.
Exactly when mutant attacks had begun increasing across the state.
"He left on a classified assignment."
Sarah looked away.
"A few weeks later two officers came."
Her voice faltered.
"They told me there'd been an accident during training."
"No body."
"They said it couldn't be recovered."
Silence settled between them.
The little girl tugged on Sarah's sleeve.
"Mommy?"
Sarah smiled through watery eyes.
"It's okay, sweetheart."
The child looked at Eric.
"Are you Daddy's friend?"
Eric forced himself to smile.
"I'd like to think so."
She nodded happily before wandering back toward her toys.
Eric looked at the photograph again.
Something still bothered him.
"Daniel..."
He hesitated.
"Was he the kind of person who left messages?"
Sarah frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Notes. Codes. Little jokes only family would understand."
She blinked.
Then laughed softly through her tears.
"Actually..."
She walked to a drawer and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"It's silly."
She handed it to him.
Rows of dots and dashes covered the page.
"Morse code," she said.
"Daniel loved it."
"We used to leave messages for each other."
"Our own little language."
Eric felt the blood drain from his face.
The mutant.
It hadn't been clicking randomly.
It had been speaking Daniel's language.
He carefully handed the paper back.
"That's... really thoughtful."
Sarah smiled sadly.
"I kept hoping one day I'd get another message."
Eric couldn't breathe.
She already had.
He had killed the man trying to send it.
---
Outside, Eric sat inside his car without starting the engine.
Sarah's phone number rested on the passenger seat.
He had promised to call if he learned anything.
But what could he possibly say?
I found your husband.
Then I shot him.
His stomach twisted.
For the first time since joining Vanguard, Eric questioned whether he had ever truly understood the enemy.
---
Sleep never came.
By morning, dark circles had formed beneath his eyes.
Tessa noticed immediately.
"You look awful."
Their breakfast sat untouched between them.
Eric rubbed his temples.
"I went somewhere after the mission."
She raised an eyebrow.
"The code."
"I figured it out."
Tessa leaned forward.
"You what?"
"It wasn't random."
"It was an address."
He slid the receipt across the table.
725 Maple Street.
"I went there."
Tessa stared at him.
"You actually tracked it down?"
"A woman lives there."
"Sarah Marcus."
"Her husband disappeared four months ago."
"So?"
"He was Army Rangers."
"Still doesn't—"
"He knew Morse code."
Tessa stopped speaking.
Eric continued quietly.
"His wife showed me pages of coded messages they used to leave each other."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally Tessa spoke.
"Eric..."
"You think that proves the mutant was him?"
"I don't know."
"But I know what I heard."
"It gave me his address."
"It knew his private language."
"It looked at me like it wanted me to understand."
Tessa stared down at the receipt.
"There could be another explanation."
"There better be."
Eric's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Because if there isn't..."
He looked out the diner window.
"If those creatures were people before they changed..."
He swallowed.
"Then every mission we've celebrated wasn't a victory."
His jaw tightened.
"It was an execution."
Neither of them touched their breakfast.
