The Externals.
Sanctity, Colorado, nestled in the foothills of the Black Mountains, is a quiet town that is slowly dying since federal regulations shut down the lumber mills around which it was built. Most residents dream of leaving, finding greater things over the horizon as they try to maintain their farms or find work. But for four of Sanctity's residents, everything is about to change...
Four young life-long friends set out to the mountains on their monthly camping trip, hardly able to wait to get away from their worries for a weekend. Except this time something is waiting for them.
As their first day in the mountains turns into night, the group find themselves drawn toward a deep, dark ravine...only to wake up the next day with no memories of where they went or what happened.
Returning home, the five go about their lives as usual until each of them begin to exhibit unimaginable abilities. None of them know how they came to have these strange powers, but their lives have now become a whirlwind of mysteries as they try to cope and find the answers. To remember what happened to them that night.
The Externals.
Sanctity was one of those towns where most of the younger - and more than a few older - residents dream of getting out, though most never do. But some make it out. Like my mom. She ran off with a encyclopedia salesman of all damn people, leaving my dad to raise me. I'm an only child, so it was just the two of us, but we managed fine. Then, ten years back, before the mill closed, Dad was in an accident; a chain sling they was using to load logs into a truck snapped, Dad was too close and got the right side of his head crushed. Docs said it was a miracle that he survived; but what was left of him wasn't no miracle.
They got him up in the veterans hospital in Bayettesville and I would go see 'im 'bout every other week, but haven't in a while. The man they got up there ain't really my father anymore; ain't much more'n a shell, just sits there, not sayin' nothin', sometimes droolin'.
I found myself wantin' t' reach over and shake 'im, to slap 'im, make 'im wake up, make 'im be my Dad again. I was getting madder and madder at 'im for leaving me, too.
So, eventually, I just stopped going, spending the time with my friends instead. They were still there, hadn't left me. We'd hang out, sometimes drink, sometimes not, but we'd always end up talkin' 'bout gettin' out of Sanctity. 'Course, we'd been talkin' 'bout it since we was kids and none of us been more'n fifty miles away (and never for more'n a couple days) in our lives, so talk was pretty much all it was.
But, there was that one weekend a month where we'd pack up some food, beer and other necessities and head out into the Blacks to go campin' and fishin'. For those two days and three nights it was as if nothin' else existed, we were free.
What happened on that last trip up to the mountains changed everything, though.
It started like any other Friday, with me finishin' my shift at From Horses to Hamsters, the feed store where I work with two of my friends. I'd finished stackin' a new shipment of feed into the storage room before clockin' out, then put my apron up and went out front to wait for the others.
((Open to Megs and anyone else who wishes to join in...))
Four young life-long friends set out to the mountains on their monthly camping trip, hardly able to wait to get away from their worries for a weekend. Except this time something is waiting for them.
As their first day in the mountains turns into night, the group find themselves drawn toward a deep, dark ravine...only to wake up the next day with no memories of where they went or what happened.
Returning home, the five go about their lives as usual until each of them begin to exhibit unimaginable abilities. None of them know how they came to have these strange powers, but their lives have now become a whirlwind of mysteries as they try to cope and find the answers. To remember what happened to them that night.
The Externals.
Sanctity was one of those towns where most of the younger - and more than a few older - residents dream of getting out, though most never do. But some make it out. Like my mom. She ran off with a encyclopedia salesman of all damn people, leaving my dad to raise me. I'm an only child, so it was just the two of us, but we managed fine. Then, ten years back, before the mill closed, Dad was in an accident; a chain sling they was using to load logs into a truck snapped, Dad was too close and got the right side of his head crushed. Docs said it was a miracle that he survived; but what was left of him wasn't no miracle.
They got him up in the veterans hospital in Bayettesville and I would go see 'im 'bout every other week, but haven't in a while. The man they got up there ain't really my father anymore; ain't much more'n a shell, just sits there, not sayin' nothin', sometimes droolin'.
I found myself wantin' t' reach over and shake 'im, to slap 'im, make 'im wake up, make 'im be my Dad again. I was getting madder and madder at 'im for leaving me, too.
So, eventually, I just stopped going, spending the time with my friends instead. They were still there, hadn't left me. We'd hang out, sometimes drink, sometimes not, but we'd always end up talkin' 'bout gettin' out of Sanctity. 'Course, we'd been talkin' 'bout it since we was kids and none of us been more'n fifty miles away (and never for more'n a couple days) in our lives, so talk was pretty much all it was.
But, there was that one weekend a month where we'd pack up some food, beer and other necessities and head out into the Blacks to go campin' and fishin'. For those two days and three nights it was as if nothin' else existed, we were free.
What happened on that last trip up to the mountains changed everything, though.
It started like any other Friday, with me finishin' my shift at From Horses to Hamsters, the feed store where I work with two of my friends. I'd finished stackin' a new shipment of feed into the storage room before clockin' out, then put my apron up and went out front to wait for the others.
((Open to Megs and anyone else who wishes to join in...))