Authors Note:

New fic. This will be an absolute whopper, along the lines of Alternate Destination. But better. Because I re-read Alternate Destination a few months ago and found it an absolute disaster-zone. Shocking characterisation, poorly plotted and super awkward in spots, I couldn't even finish it.

Really, it was just a complete hot mess. My most popular story with over thirty-thousand views mind you, but a hot mess all the same.

Argh. So I'm offering you something else. This has been brewing in my mind for a while now, and for the first time in my writing career, I can state that I've actually planned out this fic in it's entirety, just have to expand upon it.

Trust that I will weave my web gradually and it will unravel over time. It's a very adult take on the Planeteers and will get quite confronting later on, so be warned. The lyric below is taken from the song "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House. Very prophetic in terms of what's to come...

There is freedom within, there is freedom without

Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup

There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost

But you'll never see the end of the road

While you're traveling with me.

Only Shadows Ahead

Chapter One: Prologue

"Like this?"

She nodded, smiling fondly at the little girl standing beside her. Perched beside her mother on top of a small footstool, she continued earnestly stirring the rich mixture within the mixing bowl. Her head and arms barely reached the countertop but she persevered, even as dollops of cake mix fell over the side.

"Mmm. Don't forget the side of the bowl, sweetheart."

The little girl frowned, blowing her hair out of her eyes as she scraped the flour into the brownie batter. "Can I lick the spoon when I'm done?"

"No, the raw eggs will make you sick," her mother replied as she wiped her hands on a tea towel, before tying her hair into a messy pony-tail. "But when we ice the brownies you can lick the spoon. Okay, Hannah?"

"All right." The little girl jumped off the stool, watching on as her mother picked up the square container and moved about the kitchen with it. "Is the oven working today, mommy?"

"Yes, thank God," the woman said over her shoulder as she placed the brownie mix onto the oven tray. She closed the door and sighed, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose as the heat from the oven enveloped her face. "No, today it's the phones and internet that aren't working."

"Oh. That's weird," Hannah declared, before turning and striding off in the direction of her bedroom, her hair bouncing with each step she took.

She laughed, leaning against the countertop and watching her daughter go. She looked around the house, smiling at the assortment of baby toys, dolls and princess accessories strewn around the living room. A makeshift tent had replaced the dining table, which was now covered in white sheets. The tent currently housed several teddy bears and a tea set, along with a barbie holiday home.

Turning and reaching for her phone, she regarded the screen and the 'no signal' notification that was becoming increasingly more prevalent in recent weeks. As if on cue, the lights flickered above her and she froze, holding her breath to see if the electricity would also give out, but they remained on. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that her fridge and freezer full of groceries would remain intact.

The power outages had been happening for some time now, but the phone and internet issues were relatively recent. This unusual phenomenon was apparently occurring world-wide and experts were baffled as to the cause.

"A glitch in the Matrix," her husband liked to joke. For her, it was no laughing manner. It was disconcerting, and made her feel uneasy.

She crossed the living area and started packing away toys, making a mental note to put a load of washing on while the machine was still able to be utilised. She caught a glimpse of her reflection and grimaced, noting the smudges of flour across her forehead and within her hairline.

Removing her glasses, she dusted herself off as best she could, before removing the elastic band and running her fingers through her dark tresses. Her hair fell in loose waves down to her shoulders, a fashionable yet practical bob preferred for both its practicality and the lack of styling required for time-poor mothers.

She continued tidying, singing happily to herself until Eli's cries interrupted her. Stepping into the baby's room, she picked up the wailing infant and cooed quietly to him, bouncing him around on her shoulder as she trod barefoot into the kitchen and warmed a bottle for him.

Dropping herself onto the leather lounge, she curled her feet underneath herself and settled the ten month old onto her lap. He sucked the bottle down hungrily, flexing his two perfectly fat little feet as Hannah joined them on the couch, tucking herself underneath her mother's free arm.

Together they sat and watched Yo Gabba Gabba; their experience only hampered by the occasional signal drop-out and static hiss over the songs. Not that Hannah's mother minded — Yo Gabba Gabba was definitely an acquired taste.

Reaching across for the small pile of mail, she leafed through the letters until a small white envelope caught her attention. She held her breath, noting the familiar small, neat handwriting on the front - with no forwarding address on the back.

The woman slid her thumb under the seal and tore the envelope open, before unfolding the letter contained within. She read the first few lines and her eyes widened. She grinned happily, delighted at the unexpected correspondence.

Rising quickly to her feet, she started making preparations: gathering nappies, bottles, drink bottles and other miscellaneous items deemed necessary for the short trip into town. They were quickly tossed into a back-pack as she glanced at her watch, checking that she had enough time.

She did.

Jackets were grabbed for the kids and tucked into the base of the pram. She reached for her cell phone purely out of habit, soon realising that the network was still down and her husband would remain unreachable anyway. The phone was returned to the bench-top and a quick note was scrawled, just in case he returned home early.

"Hannah, let's go!"

The little girl blinked, standing as her mother gently placed Eli into the bassinet section. Dropping the back-pack over the handles, she ushered the children out into the hallway and towards the lift, chatting softly to her young charges. They soon disappeared into the city below, lost amongst the bustling throng of people.

The cell phone sat discarded on the kitchen counter, the display unchanged. The screen flashed the "Searching for Networks" message for several moments before returning to the "No Signal" mode that had plagued cell phones across all providers lately.

Above the counter sat a small window, looking out onto a dreary city skyline. Thick clouds were gathering, casting a grey glow over the buildings below the third story apartment.

A storm was coming.