---- June 15, 2000 ----
Hayden sat, staring blankly at the floor.
How could this have happened? Why was this happening?
A few hours earlier, he had received a phone call from Serenity Hospital saying that his wife had been rushed there after collapsing at work. Now, after rushing to the hospital himself, he had been told that his wife had suffered an aneurysm and was undergoing emergency surgery. The doctors had said it was serious and that there was only a slim chance she would survive.
What do I do? What can I do? I need to see if the neighbors can get the kids from school. But who can watch them? Do I need to bring them here?
His thoughts were interrupted when a tall man in a dark suit sat down beside him, placing a briefcase on his lap and turning to face him.
“Mr. Hayden Blackstone?” he asked.
“Yes - that’s me,” Hayden replied.
“Mr. Blackstone, I am sorry to hear about your wife,” the man said. “I know it's rare for something like this to happen to someone so young.”
“Do you know anything? Are you a doctor? How is she?” Hayden blurted out. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Blackstone, things are not looking good,” the man consoled.
Hayden felt a surge of panic well up inside him.
“But I know of a way you can help her,” the man said reassuringly. “It’s a bit... unconventional, though.”
“How? What do I need to do?” Hayden pleaded.
“You just need to sign this document and agree to the terms,” said the man, opening the briefcase and producing a pen. “It’s very simple, and there is only one downside. And I am contractually obligated to convey it to you.”
“What is it?” asked Hayden hesitantly.
“By signing this, your wife will live, but each year, two people will die. And if she dies - one hundred people will die,” said the man quietly.
“What?” Hayden asked in shock. “Who will die? Why will they die?”
“Because there is a cost, Mr. Blackstone. There is always a cost.”
“And... these people... they will just be random people in the world? In the whole world?” asked Hayden.
“Yes, the pool of people encompasses everyone living,” confirmed the man.
Just then, a haggard-looking doctor came out from behind the double doors leading into the surgical unit.
“Is there a Mr. Blackstone here?” the doctor asked, looking around the room.
“I’m here,” called Hayden, standing up and hurrying over.
“Mr. Blackstone... I’m sorry. We did everything we could, but your wife didn’t make it...” said the doctor.
Hayden’s knees buckled as he collapsed back into a chair.
“When you are ready, you can come back to see her,” said the doctor, giving him some space.
“Then... she’s really gone...” whispered Hayden.
“She doesn’t have to be,” said the man, who was once again holding out his pen. “You can still save her.”
Hayden looked up. It’s not like I have anything to lose.
Taking the pen, Hayden signed the document and handed it back to the man, who put the pen into his briefcase and closed it up.
A few seconds later, a second doctor burst through the doors. “Dr. Hernandez, please come with me, quickly,” he called before ducking back in, the other doctor following close behind.
Hayden turned to look at the man, who was standing up to leave. “Congratulations, Mr. Blackstone. I hope you and your wife have a long and happy rest of your lives,” he said, nodding to Hayden.
“So... it worked? She’s alive?” Hayden breathed in disbelief.
The man nodded once, then turned and walked away. About thirty minutes later, the second doctor returned to the waiting room. “Mr. Blackstone, I have great news. Your wife - she came back, and her vitals seem stable. I don’t know what to say. She has some determination, for sure.”
Hayden nodded dazedly and stood to follow the doctor back to his wife’s room.
---- Five years later (2005) ---
Hayden was sitting with his wife when it happened. There was a cry and a thud from upstairs, and Hayden called out, “Everything okay up there?”
When no one answered, his wife called out as well: “Jake? What was that? Are you okay?” Still, there was silence. “I’m going to go check and see if he’s okay.”
His wife got up and headed upstairs to their son’s room. Hayden knew something was terribly wrong when her scream rang out. He got up, running up the stairs two at a time, and burst into the room. What he saw made no sense. His wife was on the ground, clutching at a pair of clothes. Something dusty was falling out from the pile on the floor.
“What...?” Hayden started - then he realized those were the clothes Jake was wearing that day. “Is that..?”
His wife didn’t answer, still crying and clutching the clothes.
“Honey, I don’t know what's going on, but we have to get out of here. We have to call 911. What if it happens to us? We need to go.” He pulled out his cell phone as he tried to urge his wife to move. “Hello?! We need help. We don’t know what happened. Our son is gone - I don’t know what... just send everyone. I don’t know, he’s just... gone. No, we need paramedics, too - he didn’t run away. I can’t explain - just please send someone.”
Some time later, Hayden and his wife were sitting dazed on the front steps of their house. The paramedics, firefighters, and police had all left. The paramedics had arrived and, finding no one in the room save some dusty clothes, said there wasn’t much they could do. They did check Hayden and his wife briefly to make sure they were okay, but seeing nothing wrong, they moved on. The police had more questions; they asked when they had last seen Jake and requested a recent picture. They also told them to come to the station the next day if he didn’t turn up and file a missing person's report. They reluctantly took a sample of the dust in an evidence bag in case it became relevant later, but it was clear that everyone assumed it was a ruse, a joke, or that he had run away.
“Why won’t anyone believe us?” his wife cried.
“I barely believe it myself. What could do that? How does it even make sense?” Hayden replied.
“Are we cursed? First the aneurysm and now this... both on the same day. What did we do to deserve this?” she whispered.
Hayden went pale, all the color draining from his face. He hadn’t realized what day it was.
“No, it can’t be...” he whispered.
“What can’t be?” His wife turned to him, seeing his expression. “What is it? Did you realize something? Do you know something about what happened?”
“I... I didn’t think... I didn’t think it was real,” Hayden stammered in stunned disbelief. “It shouldn’t be possible.”
“What? What is it, Hayden? What shouldn’t be possible?” his wife asked in a trembling voice. “You are starting to scare me.”
“Five years ago, the night of your aneurysm... something happened,” he started. “Something miraculous.”
“I know,” said his wife. “The doctors said I was dead for a minute before coming back. But what does that have to do with this?”
“Well, there was something that happened that I didn’t tell you about. I didn’t think it was related - it shouldn’t be possible. But... I didn’t have anything to lose. Over the years, I figured it was just some strange coincidence.”
“What happened? What was a coincidence? I still don’t understand.”
“A man came up to me in the waiting room. He said that I could save you. Said that he could help you. He had a paper to sign, and the doctor said you weren’t likely to make it... said you were dying,” said Hayden.
“What? A man with a paper? Was he a doctor? What does this have to do with Jake?” she asked, still confused.
Hayden swallowed. “He wasn’t a doctor. He was just some man in a suit. And it has to do with the paper. It was a contract. And he said... he said that you could be saved. But in order for it to work, two people would die each year. Two random people, in the whole world. I never thought...”
Now it was his wife’s face that paled. “And... you think that... Jake..?”
Hayden nodded. Then he remembered something else - “Wait... did you say you were dead for a minute?”
His wife nodded.
Hayden’s heart sank even further. “There was another part... if you died, one hundred people would die...”
“One hundred people?!” his wife gasped in disbelief. “And it’s been five years, so... that means one hundred and ten people have died? Because of... me? And now Jake...”
She cut herself off as she turned away, collapsing to vomit into the grass. Hayden moved to comfort her. “No, it's not you - it's that man... it’s -”
“Stop! Get away!” she shouted, pushing away his hand.
After she had recovered a bit, she looked back at him with haunted eyes. “No, no, there has to be some way to stop it. There has to be something we can do. I didn’t ask for this!”
Hayden looked at her, guilt in his eyes. “I’m sorry... I thought I had lost you. I thought -”
“Please... just go. I can’t... I just can’t right now,” she said softly.
--- 15 years later (2020) ---
Hayden unlocked the door to his small, run-down apartment and opened it. Walking in, he tossed the keys onto the table and slumped into a chair. Turning on the TV, a news story was running:
“...a new international effort has been started to research and study the phenomenon known as ‘the Fade,’ which has been affecting a small number of people around the world each year. Long dismissed as a rumor or hoax, public awareness for the phenomenon has increased since the Prime Minister of France disappeared during a meeting — dissolving suddenly and without a trace. This new effort includes a Dr. Blackstone, a prominent infectious disease researcher whose son was reportedly affected by this phenomenon 15 years ago...”
A picture of his wife appeared on the screen, and Hayden stared in surprise. His wife looked just as he remembered her when he last saw her.
Must be an older picture, he thought.
It had been fifteen years since that night on the steps. He had come back the next day to find his wife missing and a note saying that she couldn’t be with him anymore and for him not to come looking. His life had never been the same since.
“I’m sorry...” he whispered to the image on the screen.
--- 4 years later (2024) ---
Hayden’s phone buzzed. He looked down to see a notification on the screen. It was a news story with a headline that read: “The Fade getting worse?” He clicked on it and skimmed the text. It was an article mentioning that there was an anomaly this year in the predictable two cases per year on June 15th.
“...reports are coming in from across the world that more people have Faded than ever before. Currently, the count is at 43, but there are still reports coming in. We’ll continue to update the story as more information comes in. We have reached out to Dr. Blackstone, the lead researcher at the Faded Institute, but have yet to receive a response.”
--- 1 year later (2025) ---
Hayden walked quickly from his car toward the back door of his apartment building. “Mr. Blackstone?! Is that you?”
He started running as more reporters looked up and turned their attention to him. He managed to make it to the door and close it before anyone got too close. He looked out the door’s window one last time at the growing group of reporters trying to shout questions at him through the door, then headed toward the elevator. It had been this way since a junior researcher at the institute linked his wife’s bad car accident with the 100 atypical faded cases. She had also been able to find the medical records showing the hospital visit around the time of the first faded cases they had researched. It was all over the news that things were somehow linked to his wife, and the reporters would not leave him alone.
When he got to his room and opened the door, he didn’t have time to react before a gunshot rang out and a voice angrily growled, “This is for my sister!”
--- 200 years later (2225) ---
Angelica jolted awake, sitting up and blinking her eyes to clear them.
Not again. How many times is this now?
She looked at the ruins around her - a blasted and toppled city alone in a rocky wasteland.
How can I keep coming back? I’ve been looking for over a year now, and there have been no signs of life anywhere. Nothing I can detect, at least. This place must have been hit pretty bad, given how quickly it killed me. Radiation, maybe?
Ahead, she spied the small door that was her goal. There was a small signal she had detected about two days ago. It had suddenly appeared, and she was making her way to the door. It was obviously shielded, but she hadn’t made it in time, apparently.
As she approached, she produced a set of keycards from her backpack. She held the bunch out, and one of them must have triggered the door lock, as there was a loud click and the door slid open. When she entered, she headed down the spiraling staircase ahead. After about thirty minutes of walking, she came to an elevator that flickered to life. Stepping in, she pushed the only button, labeled “Storage.”
When the doors opened, she was met by a large room. Stretching out before her were rows of cylinders, and in front of them, a console. As she walked up to the console, it came to life. Project ARK displayed briefly before a status screen appeared. On the screen was a long list of entries. As she looked, she noticed a red X next to all the names displayed, along with a date next to each. There was a binder next to the screen with SOP - Project ARK on the front. She picked it up and opened it.
Inside, the first section she came to was titled Purpose and read:
This document contains the instructions and procedures for Project ARK. Project ARK was designed as a last effort to preserve the human race in the event of the war’s loss.
Slowly, it dawned on her what she was looking at. She rushed over to one of the cylinders and looked through the window set into it. Inside, there was a pair of clothes and dust. She ran back to the computer and looked around the screen to see if there was more info. Above the entries, it read: “Viable pods - 1 / 1000.” She paged through the entries until she came to pod 867. It was still green and read: “Elisa Enden.”
Angelica just sat there for a while, the realization of what had happened washing over her. This was how she was still coming back. And now, it was too late. It wasn’t the wars; it wasn’t the alien invasion. It was her. She was the one who would bring about the end of the human race. She walked back over to the console, tears streaming down her face in equal parts joy and sadness. This was the end.
Strange... how I’ve been responsible for so many deaths over the years, and this one hurts the most. Out of all the death I have caused, this is the first one that I choose. But it will also set me free. Thank you, Elisa.
On the screen, she selected pod 867 and pressed Emergency Shutdown.