I see a bad moon arisin'
I see trouble on the way
I see earthquakes and lightnin'
I see bad times today
-Creedance Clearwater Revival

Pale moon doth rain, Red moon doth blow, and White moon doth neither rain nor snow.
–Ancient Proverb

Chapter 1: M-O-O-N Spells Moon (by LemonSupreme)

Bass Monroe is standing on the rickety front porch of the house he's claimed as his own. He sips whiskey from a chipped coffee cup. Painted on the side of the cup are a yellow smiley face and the words 'Don't Worry Be Happy'. A brisk evening wind pulls at his clothes and ruffles his hair.

Bass stares into the night sky and takes another drink. He is clearly paying no heed to the cheerful message painted on the mug. His expression is grim. He hears footsteps coming around the corner of the house, but doesn't look his visitor's way. He doesn't need to. Bass knows exactly who it is: his oldest friend and next door neighbor.

"There's blood on the moon Miles." Bass' voice is low. He motions to the sky with his chin.

"Yep." Miles joins his old friend on the porch. They stand there, side by side, both looking up at the eerie red glow of the moon, lost in thought.

"Something bad's coming. I can feel it." Bass takes another drink from his smiley face mug.

"Yep." Miles pulls a flask from a jacket pocket, unscrews the lid and takes a swig. "Remember the last time we saw a red moon?"

"Baltimore." Bass' face is hard in the moonlight. His spine bristles and his gut tightens. He believes in his heart that the red moon is an omen.

"Baltimore." Miles agrees, rubbing at tired eyes.

These two men have seen more than their fair share of violence, destruction and death. They have killed and tortured and destroyed. These days they try to put their pasts behind them. They try to focus on the here and now, but there are some memories that are simply too awful, too disturbing to forget. Baltimore had almost done them in. They hardly ever talk of it, for even the mention of that city chills them to the bone.

"Baltimore." Miles says it again as if this one word tells a story, and of course for these two it does exactly that.

Someone who doesn't know Miles as well as Bass does wouldn't catch the tremor in Miles' voice. Bass hears it and notes that Miles sounds the same way Bass feels. The sight of that damn red moon sends a swirling torrent of dread through his body. The dread tells him all he needs to know.

"Something bad's coming, Miles."

"Yep."

XXXXXXXXXX

Eddie Slater is sixteen. He's not bright. The old-timers say he's 'a bit touched in the head'. The younger folks aren't mean to him, but neither are they terribly friendly. Most people just leave him alone.

Generally he's tended to by his big sister Becca, not that she really does much 'tending'. She works nights as a whore on the East side of Willoughby. She spends her days sleeping or yelling at her brother. Becca hates working on her back, but she hates her role as caregiver to her half-wit brother even more.

Becca is not a good person. Her heart is cold and dark. Eddie does his best to stay out of her way. This is a system that has served them both well for years.

On this blustery evening, Eddie watches his sister talk to their Mother. The conversation is animated and filled with tension… that is, the part of it Eddie can hear. Their Mom has been dead for almost five years now, but Becca is talking and yelling at her just like she never died at all.

Eddie Slater may be touched in the head, but he knows full out crazy when he sees it. Even though it frightens him something fierce, he stays to witness the one-sided conversation his sister is having with their dead Mother.

When it's over, Becca walks off into the night, her body strangely stiff as if she is a puppet on a string. She doesn't say goodbye, but somehow Eddie knows she's not coming back.

Eddie's memory never has been all that great, but one part of the weird conversation seemed important. He repeats it in a whisper, over and over so that he won't forget… "Bradbury Idaho. Bradbury Idaho. Bradbury Idaho..."

Eddie's biting his lip and trying hard to hold back hot tears. He doesn't remember being this upset – not since his Mom died. Her death had been ugly. Everyone knew it was probably Becca that had done it, but nobody could prove anything. Eddie knew more than he'd ever been willing to say, but Becca was all he had left, even if she was an awful person. Eddie just didn't want to be alone and knew if they sent Becca to jail, that's what would happen.

Now it looks like he's going to be alone anyway.

Eddie is worried. What should he do next? Then he thinks of the one person who might be able to help him…. The one person in all of Willoughby who has always been nice to him no matter what: his old teacher Aaron Pittman.

Eddie packs a bag with a change of clothes, and straps it to his back before walking with a quick shuffle down the street, away from the house he's lived in his whole life. He has to find Aaron. Eddie is calmer now that he has a plan, but he continues to talk quietly to himself. The wind picks up and it whips around him as he walks, surrounding him with a swirl of leaves and dust. If someone were to listen very carefully, they would hear the boy muttering over the sound of the howling wind…

"Bradbury Idaho. Bradbury Idaho. Bradbury Idaho..."

XXXXXXXXXX

Seven days, twelve hours, forty-five minutes… give or take.

That's how long Dr. Gene Porter figures he's been stuck in his bed with a perfectly nasty respiratory infection. Back in the days when antibiotics flowed like water from the tap, this would have been a two day setback at most.

As it is, Gene knows he's actually lucky to still be alive. It had all started off innocently enough. He'd treated Greta Miller for a sore throat. Greta claimed to be thirty-nine, but if she was less than sixty, Gene would eat his hat. Greta had a bit of a crush on her favorite doctor and had surprised him with a big wet kiss right on the lips as the exam was winding down. Gene had known it was just a matter of time then. He'd been right.

Within eight hours, his own throat felt raw and he was coughing so hard he thought his lungs would collapse. By the end of the day he was propped up in bed struggling for every breath. Rachel had stopped by to say hello, discovered just how sick he was and promptly moved him to the house she shares with Miles and Charlie. She'd convinced Miles to move all of Gene's medical supplies to their house as well. Rachel has taken to being his nurse in the same way she does everything else: with stubborn determination.

She'd found an herbal remedies book in Gene's things and has been bringing him an array of awful concoctions ever since. Some help. Some don't.

Gene sighs heavily. Rachel may be his beloved daughter and his only child; but if she brings him cabbage juice one more time he is going to have to kill her. Gene wrinkles his nose and pours the latest glass of the offensive green liquid into the potted plant by his bed.

"I saw that." Charlie chuckles from the door.

"Charlie, it's good to see you." His voice is still raspy, his breathing labored, but Gene smiles at his granddaughter fondly. "You look a little anxious. Everything okay?"

Charlie shrugs, putting on a brave face, "I have to meet with someone about a job tonight. I'm kind of nervous about it."

Gene smiles and pats her hand. "You are amazing Charlie. I'm sure you have nothing to be nervous about."

"We'll see." Then her smile widens as she remembers her reason for dropping by, "I brought you something Grandpa, and I'm pretty sure you'll like it…" She reaches into her jacket, but steals a quick glance at the open door before handing him his surprise.

"Oh Charlie," Gene grins as he pulls a small oatmeal cookie from its parchment paper wrapping, "This is wonderful." He raises the cookie to his lips, but stops abruptly when his daughter appears.

"Dad." Rachel's voice is full of warning.

"Nurse Ratched." Gene growls, squinting his eyes.

"Hi Mom." Charlie smiles. "Maybe cut him some slack? He's been lying around for days. He needs a treat, and it's just a cookie." She pouts at her Mother.

Rachel's lips tighten into a firm line. "He can have treats when his breathing is normal and he's no longer in danger of catching pneumonia. Besides, I brought him more juice." She holds out a hand, "Give me the cookie Dad."

Gene looks at the cookie, and then at his daughter. He starts to hand it to her, but rethinks his decision and pops the whole thing in his mouth. He grins around a mouthful of cookie, and leans back, eyes closed, savoring the flavor.

"Dad!" Rachel exclaims. "What about the juice?"

When the last of the cookie is gone, he answers with a grin, "Rachel, I love you. I really do, but I will chew off my own arm before I drink another glass of your juice."

"Charlie, next time you want to put your Grandpa's life in danger over a cookie, please come talk to me first."

Gene smiles, "Death by cookie? I'd say there are worse ways to go." He and Charlie both are laughing when Rachel turns on her heel and leaves the room, cabbage juice in hand.

Rachel closes the door behind her and smiles with relief. For the first time in a week she thinks her Dad is doing better. He isn't out of the woods yet, but his personality and sense of humor have certainly returned. Rachel looks down at the glass of green juice and shrugs, taking a sip.

She shudders a little. No wonder her Dad had been excited about eating a cookie.

XXXXXXXXXX

Connor wakes with a jolt. Tom Neville sits just on the other side of the dying fire, and he's watching Connor. Again. Neville has never been Connor's favorite guy. He'd only come along with Tom on this journey to Idaho because Connor honestly feels he doesn't have any better options. Connor is still way too mad at his Dad to go back to Willoughby.

Neville is a weird dude and his weirdness seems to become more pronounced every day. They've been on the road for weeks now but things are only getting worse, which is bad considering how freaky their partnership had started. Neville stares into space or talks to people who aren't there. He doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. Neville's behavior is disturbing, but Connor has nowhere else to go and nobody else to go with – so for now disturbing is as good as it's going to get.

"Why are you always watching me when I sleep? It's creepy." Connor asks with a scowl.

"We think you are quite interesting Connor Monroe."

"The name is Bennett. I've told you that like fifty times."

"You say Bennett with your voice, but in your head you consider yourself a Monroe."

Connor looks skeptical, "So what – you're psychic now? What would you know about anything in my head?"

"Oh, we know plenty." Neville sighs and then begins to list off things he knows, "We know you lost your virginity to a prostitute Nunez gave you for your fifteenth birthday. We know that you are angry at Charlotte Matheson because she won't sleep with you again. We know that you want your Dad to love you as much as he loves Miles. We know that you play sweet and innocent, but that you were killing even before you screwed that first whore. We know that you are capable of being just as bad as your Father ever was, but that there is also a goodness in you that keeps the darkness mostly at bay. We know that in your head, you call yourself Connor Monroe and even though you are mad at him now, you are proud to be your Father's son." Neville's voice is cool and even.

Connor stares at the older man for a moment, and then shakes his head, "Whatever, I must have talked in my sleep or something. No way are you reading my mind."

Neville doesn't respond to Connor, but he does look off to the side and speaks into the air, "Not the sharpest knife in the drawer is he?" Connor almost says something, but Neville continues, "No not very bright, but then we don't need him to be smart do we? Just willing."

Neville listens to the silence for a minute and then chuckles. "Yes, that too."

"What are you talking about? Willing to do what?" Connor frowns, confused.

Neville smiles coldly, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about anything Connor Monroe. We've got it all under control."

Connor wonders (not for the first time) who this 'we' is that Neville is always referring to. He feels a shiver of apprehension.

Something bad is coming. He can feel it.

As if Neville really can read Connor's mind, he turns and holds his gaze intently. "Yes Connor, something is coming… something big, but it doesn't have to be bad. It all depends on your perspective." Neville's smile grows into a cunning grin. For a moment Connor is reminded of a horror movie he and a childhood friend had stolen from Wal Mart the summer before the blackout. It had been about an evil clown. Connor remembers having nightmares for weeks after watching it. That crazy smile of Neville's reminds Connor of the creepy clown from that movie. He shudders as dread settles in his gut.

As suddenly as the weird smile had appeared, it is gone. Once again Neville is staring into space, his expression placid. The wind picks up around them, howling in the distance.

Yep. Something bad is coming and Connor doesn't think perspective has anything to do with it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Far away in a crumbling city, a woman lounges behind a big oak desk. Her visitor shifts nervously from one foot to the other. This is a common response to being in her presence. She likes that they fear her.

The woman slides a stack of papers across the desk. The man picks them up and shuffles through the stack quickly.

He pauses at one point and looks up, "Matheson, Monroe, more Mathesons… this isn't the first time some of these names have been on bounties. Thought you said this was urgent?"

The woman frowns, "My superiors…" she points to the large door behind her desk, "are very interested in making sure that there is never another need for a bounty on any of these individuals. This needs to be the final capture. Can you do it or not?"

"Of course. These days, I'm the best there is. What's their last known location?"

"Willoughby Texas for all of them except Bennett. His current location is unknown."

The man nods, "How do you want them?"

She shrugs, "Alive is preferred, but don't put yourself in danger to keep any of them breathing. These are a wily bunch. Watch yourself."

He smirks, "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"Oh I'm not worried about you. Just don't fail, or it is you who will need to worry." Her gaze is icy as she hands him a small leather bag of diamonds.

He swallows thickly; the smirk is gone. She sees the beads of sweat popping up on his brow as he takes his payment. Good. Nervous is always good. "Yes, Ma'am."

She motions for him to leave, her expression now bored. As he opens the door she stops him, "Wait."

"Yes?" he turns, clearly wanting to be on his way. He is clutching the stack of bounties a little tighter than is actually necessary.

"Secrecy is of the utmost importance with this assignment. The origin of these bounties must remain anonymous. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She watches him for a moment, evaluating him silently. She finally nods, "You may go now."

He turns and is gone before she can change her mind.

The woman walks to the office's window and looks out. The blood moon casts an ominous glow on the night below. A cold smile spreads across her lips.

Ominous is good. She likes ominous.

XXXXXXXXXX

Someone had discovered a battered box of dot matrix printer paper and given it to Aaron a while back. Even though the paper was old long before the blackout, it was still remarkably usable even if it did smell a bit moldy. The distinctive green stripes on each sheet made Aaron giddy when he first opened the box.

Now he and Priscilla are sitting at their kitchen table, surrounded by flickering candles and sheets of the green and white paper. Each sheet is lined with handwritten code or notes. They've been working almost non-stop since Priscilla had torn free from the Nano. Their goal is to defeat it, but they are struggling and swiftly losing momentum. They never have figured out all that grinning man business. Rachel has been distracted by her Dad's illness, and there have been no new sightings of the Nano that they know of. This worries Aaron the most.

No way has the Nano disappeared, but what is it planning?

Where is it now?

Who is it now?

Aaron runs a hand across his mouth in frustration. He is so tired of thinking and second guessing and wondering what he's missing. His hair is sticking out oddly and his glasses are crooked. There are heavy dark bags under his eyes. Aaron is exhausted and frustrated and on the verge of panic. He has a feeling that time is of the essence. He has a feeling time is, in fact, running out.

Priscilla is not much better. Physically she has recovered completely from her time as host to the Nano. Emotional well-being is something else entirely. She is skittish and unsure of herself. She has nightmares and panic attacks. She misses her daughters more than ever and Aaron is worried that she's sinking into a deep depression.

"Maybe we should call it a night?" Priscilla suggests, her voice subdued.

Aaron stretches tired muscles and nods. It's been a long day with nothing to show for any of their effort. "Yeah, we could use some rest. Maybe we'll have better luck in the morning." He doesn't sound particularly hopeful. They blow out the candles, and he puts a reassuring hand at Priscilla's back. They are almost out of the kitchen when they hear a knock at the door.

Aaron tenses, "Who would be visiting us at night?" he asks in a hushed whisper.

Priscilla just shrugs tiredly.

"Go to bed. I'll see who it is." Aaron gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and turns toward the door. He hesitates before opening it, not even bothering with the peephole. Without a porch light, the silly little thing is useless. Stupid blackout.

Aaron opens the door, and is unable to hide his surprise and relief. As late night visitors go, this one is harmless, though completely unexpected. "Eddie? What are you doing here?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Bass and Miles have moved from Bass' porch next door to the front steps of the Matheson house. They sit there, enveloped in silence under the light of the blood red moon. They both turn to the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Hey Charlie." Miles calls out. "Where ya been?"

"I went for a walk." Charlie sounds tense. Bass and Miles both sit at attention.

"What happened Kid?" Miles asks, worried.

"I had that meeting with the General tonight. It didn't go well at all." She sits down heavily on the bottom step, not turning to look at the men behind her. "I didn't make it in. They don't want me."

Bass is confused. "What meeting? What General? Don't want you for what?"

Miles nods in Charlie's direction, "She's trying to join the Rangers."

Bass laughs out loud. "Why wouldn't they want YOU?" he is truly shocked. "You could train them on tracking, archery and even hand to hand combat, and they'd be lucky to have you." He shakes his head. "Idiots."

Miles chuckles.

"This isn't funny Miles." Charlie says with a huff. Then she glances at Bass, "Thanks."

Miles is still chuckling.

"What is so damn funny?" Bass asks him, still feeling irritated on Charlie's behalf. That girl has more than proved herself over the last year. The Rangers really are idiots if they don't let her join.

Miles calms down a bit. "Well for starters, the General Charlie met with tonight is General Claire Donegan."

"Oh hell." Bass mutters, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah." Miles says with a grin.

Charlie is looking back and forth between them, "What?" she asks, frustrated. "What are you guys talking about?"

Miles points to Bass, "Ever since Texas declared war on the Patriots, Bass here has been keeping company with a certain General who was there when it all went down." Miles chuckles again, "So he was just calling his own girlfriend an idiot. I'm sorry, but that's funny."

Charlie looks at Bass again and shakes her head, "You're dating General Donegan?" Their eyes lock for a moment. He shrugs and looks away, feeling oddly uncomfortable, though he isn't exactly sure why.

"Girlfriend. Dating. These are strong words. We see each other sometimes. It's not a big deal." Bass says defensively. "I forgot Claire was heading up the Ranger recruiting. She's not an idiot. At least I've never seen it." He looks at Charlie and then to Miles. "No, really…this isn't like her. Why would Claire have a problem with Charlie?"

Rachel comes out on the porch just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. "Claire who?" she asks.

Charlie looks up at her Mom, "General Claire Donegan. She works with Blanchard and is in charge of recruiting new Rangers. I was hoping to join up, maybe be a scout or a tracker..." She shrugs, "It doesn't matter. She says I don't have what it takes."

Miles isn't laughing anymore. "Ah hell. Here we go."

Rachel's mouth twists with anger and her eyes narrow. "Claire Donegan? Really? Claire Donegan doesn't think YOU have what it takes to be a Texas Ranger?" her mouth twitches in anger. "She wouldn't know good enough if it smacked her in the face."

"Geesh Mom, it's not a big deal. Really. Do you know her or something?"

"Oh yes, I know her."

"Well, it's probably going to be okay. Turns out Monroe is kind of involved with her so maybe he can put in a good word for me?" She glances over at Bass with a questioning look.

He nods, "Sure Charlie. I'll talk to her."

Rachel turns to Bass, "You and Claire?" When he shrugs, she chuckles mirthlessly. "Figures. You two are perfect for each other."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bass asks indignantly.

Rachel ignores him and turns to Charlie. "This isn't about you at all Charlie. It's about me. I'll go talk to her tomorrow. I assure you this will get straightened out." Then she turns and goes inside, the screen door slamming loudly behind her.

"Wow. Rachel really does think the world revolves around her, doesn't she?" Bass asks, shaking his head.

"This time she might be right." Miles leans back against the railing, "Claire and Rachel grew up together and were in the same class in school. They were best friends until senior year. I don't know all the gory details but they fought over a guy they both liked. It was ugly and the friendship didn't survive." Miles shrugs. "Rachel probably figures that Claire is taking that out on you, Charlie."

"So Claire is Rachel's nemesis? No wonder she thinks we're a good match." Bass can't help but smirk. He sees Miles' pained expression, "Oh come on Miles. You were laughing first."

Miles cracks a smile too. He loves Rachel, but this is pretty funny. "Well now that you and Rachel aren't trying to kill each other anymore, maybe we could all go on a double date?" he jokes. Bass throws his head back and laughs. It's true. Rachel and Bass have reached a new understanding. They'll never be best friends, but they are doing their best to get along.

"I think a double date might be pushing it a little far." Bass says with an uncomfortable chuckle, glancing Charlie's way.

Their eyes hold for a moment. Sometimes she thinks she could get lost in those blue eyes when he looks at her like that. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, clearing it. Not going there, she reminds herself.

Charlie turns suddenly. Now she's staring attentively into the darkness. "Hear that?" she asks reaching for her knife. Miles and Bass both raise their weapons based solely on Charlie's warning.

A couple second later they all hear it – the sound of approaching footsteps. Bass can't help but think once again how dumb it would be to keep Charlie out of the Rangers. She was born for this shit. All three lower the weapons they have trained on the path when they see Aaron and Priscilla emerging from the shadows.

"Hey guys, is Rachel here?" Aaron's eyes are wide and he looks like he can't decide if he's excited or terrified.

"Yeah?" Miles doesn't like the vibe he's getting off Aaron. Something is up.

Priscilla always looks tired these days, but tonight she seems to have regained a little of her old spark. Whatever is going on has both of them acting like kids on Christmas Eve.

"We need to talk to her, like right now." Aaron says, a little breathless.

It is only now that a third figure emerges from the darkness. Guns are immediately drawn again, until Aaron waves them off. The young man standing behind Aaron is staring at the ground and muttering to himself.

"What is he doing?" Bass asks.

"He's counting. It calms him down a bit." Priscilla answers.

"Why does Rainman need to calm down in the first place?" Miles asks. He still hasn't moved to get Rachel. First he wants to know what the hell is going on here.

"I think I know him." Charlie says thoughtfully. "Eddie?"

The boy looks up at Charlie's question and flashes a nervous smile. "Hi Charlie." Eddie likes her. She has a pretty smile and she has never called him names or been mean to him at all. Charlie is always kind.

"What do you need Rachel for? She's tending to Gene right now." Miles sounds grouchy. He hates not knowing what's going on.

"Well, Eddie's sister talked to their Mother today." Aaron's voice is higher pitched than normal, and he is speaking quickly. Clearly he is excited.

"So?" Bass asks, not bothering to hide just how unimpressed he is.

"So," Charlie says quietly, "Eddie's Mom died several years ago – before we all came to Willoughby. I remember hearing the stories."

Eddie is nodding.

"Wait!" Miles says, exasperated. "I thought you said someone talked to his Mom today?"

"Yes." Aaron says, almost giddy. He waits patiently for Miles to get it.

"Oh hell." Miles says finally, "More of that science fiction crap isn't it?"

Aaron nods. "Yes. We finally think we know where the Nano is."

"Told you something bad was coming." Bass mutters, a cold chill settling down his spine. "Well, here it comes."

Priscilla shakes her head, "No. It's not coming here. It's leaving."

"But then, that's good, right?" Miles asks.

"No, it's not good." Rachel has appeared from inside. Evidently she's heard enough to understand what's going on. "We can't defeat it when it's far away. We wouldn't know where to start."

Aaron nods to Rachel in agreement, "Well, thanks to Eddie, we know where to start now."

"Where?" Bass asks.

Eddie looks up and speaks softly, "Bradbury Idaho. They're all going to Bradbury Idaho."

Rachel nods slowly, her mouth twitches as a decision is made. "Then that's where we're going too, some of us at least."

Bass Monroe looks up at the blood moon, and once again he is sure that something bad is coming. He wishes Connor was here. He hates the thought of his son out there facing any of this alone, or worse yet – with Neville. Maybe the bad thing isn't coming to Willoughby, but he feels in his gut that something bad is in store for this group of friends…this make-shift family.

Something bad is waiting in the Wastelands of Idaho. It's waiting there for them.

Miles is clearly thinking the same thing. His gaze also turns to the eerie night sky and the crimson moon that hovers. Only Bass hears his friend's whispered words before they are torn away by the howling wind.

"Red moons really suck."

A/N: Please leave a comment if you have a moment. You'll see chapter 2 (by IceonFire7 in a week or so).

Credit: Chapter title comes from Stephen King's "The Stand". Story title comes from Led Zeppelin of course. ;)