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Bang is just a theory,” Dodge said. “You can’t—”
    “Pastor, please,” Griffin said, “let’s just say it’s real for argument’s sake. Assuming there are infinite realities, the next question is, why are we being tossed between them?”
    “Again,” Winslow said, “I have no clue. But one thing has been bothering me since the beginning.”
    “Only one thing?” Frost asked.
    He smiled at her. “Yes, my dear. Certainly some terrible things have happened, but there’s one item in particular that seems to be an unreachable itch on my back. After all, the how is answered by the what—in simple terms, mind you, the actual mechanics of how is beyond my grasp. But infinite realities means that virtually anything is possible. So for me, the largest unanswered question is, why Refuge?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Clearly only our town is affected. If Ashland was involved, too, that would be one thing. But only Refuge?” He shook his head. “This is no random act. Something is causing this.”
    “Obviously something is causing this,” Dodge said.
    “Yes, but why ? In our reality, some things are almost always created by some ones . Which means there is a reason this is happening to us. Once we figure out the why , we’ll be able to determine the who, and we’ll have a better chance of finding our way out of the Echo. Right now, the how is the least of our concerns.”
    Frost kept watching the tree as it grew larger and larger. She had been a small-town girl for most of her life. Once she had visited New York with her grandparents near Christmastime. They had gone to Rockefeller Plaza to see the giant tree lit up with all its bright colors, and then they had gone to Radio City Music Hall to watch the Christmas show. All of it had been spectacular—the Rockettes had been particularly exciting—but it was the buildings themselves that had awed Frost the most. She had heard of skyscrapers before, had seen pictures in books, but actually standing at the base of such a vast structure and craning your neck back until the top of the building began to look like it was starting to sway… It was incredible. And now she had the same feeling...with a tree . It was an immense reminder that she was just an ant among a billion ants—insignificant in the larger scheme of things.
    The SUV began to slow. Frost blinked and realized they had come to the intersection. Right and they would head over to the National Guard Depot. A little further up and left, and they would head out to Lake Hudson, the Refuge Reservoir Station, a slew of cabins and at the end of it all, Renford Ellison’s mansion. Speaking of which…
    “Has anyone checked on Mr. Ellison?”
    Nobody answered her.
    “I just realized, we don’t even know if he’s home,” she said.
    Griffin said, “Maybe he was outside town before this happened.”
    “And maybe he wasn’t. If no one has heard from him, he could be in trouble. His house would have been within the darkness. It’s close enough to the border.”
    Winslow halted the SUV, right in the middle of the road. “Would you like to check on him first?”
    Frost bit her lip, thinking about it. She glanced up at the tree toward their right, the tree that nearly shadowed them, despite the fact it stood a quarter mile away. She remembered that creature in the sky. Right now, weapons were more important. Protect the greater good and all that.
    “No,” she said. “The depot first. We can check on Mr. Ellison later.”
    Winslow nodded, spun the wheel, and lifted his foot off the brake. The SUV started down the drive leading to the depot. He went at a conservative speed, maybe twenty miles per hour, the wheels humming along the macadam.
    Suddenly Griffin said, “Stop the truck.”
    Winslow glanced at the rearview mirror. “What?”
    “Stop the goddamn truck!”

 
     
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    Griffin opened his door and stepped out even before the SUV came to a complete stop.
    “What is it?” Frost asked.