Chapter 1
In the room Eddie sat facing the interviewer in her chair. The woman smiled at the camera and said, "This is Sally Bennett. With me today is Reporter Eddie Brock. Now Eddie has given some hard hitting pieces for the news, and reminded us of some important social issues. His last foray was in a place we've all been told is too dangerous to go in. He's come back from the high radiation area in the town of Driftwood, Texas." She turned to Eddie and asked, "Now Eddie, you usually you have plenty of camera footage to show where you've been. Why not this time?"
Eddie shrugged. "It wasn't allowed. Right after we got into the town, our camera was confiscated. At first, I didn't know why. I mean, you'd think the people living there would want the whole world to see what happened to them. That was not the case. This was not just being camera shy on their part. They do have people, and species there they are protecting. I found their guard force is pretty impressive."
"There are people living there, inside that Hot Zone?"
"Quite a few. They also don't want anyone to come messing with them. I discovered that while many look human, I don't think any of them really are. All the people that were human in that town, died when that bomb was dropped on them. All 467. That killed off many hard working families, and even the ones left, lost a large portion, if not all their family. Right now, they have a very low trust factor for anyone who's not part of the town. Let's face it, finding out from trial transcripts, it was our president at the time who ordered a nuclear bomb dropped on them. They are seriously not happy about that."
"I imagine so! I take it the ones who survived are somehow mutated?"
Eddie shook his head. "The bomb didn't do it. These people already have … DNA differences. From what I understand, many came there through the years to live peaceful, quiet lives. It's not that they are somehow disabled, or have ugly spots all over them. There's a few ladies who look quite beautiful, and some good, well built and strong men. The thing is I learned none of them are someone you want to mess with. Before I went to Driftwood, I stopped at Dripping Springs up to the north of them and talked to the mayor. He holds them in the highest regards. See when the PSR came through imposing their Martial law on everyone, Dripping Springs tried to fight back. They lost many people the PSR killed for disobedience. Everything they had was taken away. The PSR made a big mistake though, they went south to claim Driftwood. Instead of another helpless town, when they went to Driftwood, Driftwood fought back hard and chased the PSR back to Dripping Springs, surrounded and annihilated them. This was after that bomb hit. After the PSR was done there, people from Driftwood expanded out and were a major force in removing PSR from the country."
"These nuclear disaster people from Driftwood did that?"
"They did. I also found there's a few famous people that live there, and no, I won't mention any names. What I will say is they are very tough and tenacious. Think of an angry Wolverine on steroids. They don't give up, back down, or even take a break until after they've gotten whoever it is they are after."
"You make them sound dangerous," she noted.
Eddie bobbed his head. "They can be very dangerous. Talking to the Driftwood Mayor, he thinks that's why the PSR coaxed the President to drop that bomb, to get rid of them. All that bomb did was kill innocent people, destroy wildlife and enraged the survivors. I spent a couple weeks in Driftwood and I gotta tell ya, I'd be scared to get any of them angry. Even the kids. Not that they are overtly mean. We had a nice time down there and made a few friends. I also saw things there I'd never thought in a million years I'd ever see."
Eddie chuckled and said, "We went to help pick up a herd of dead pigs someone had gotten. They get nothing from beyond their town, so they kill wild pigs for meat. Ever see a short woman pick up a 400 pound pig and toss it in the back of a truck? Or a woman who has long enough, sturdy enough and sharp enough fingernails to lop off a pig's head? Not saw it off, but chop it off with a single swipe? How about someone who has strong enough telekinesis to lift up several of those pigs and lay them in the back of the truck? I'm telling you, I wasn't feeling very manly when I saw them doing that," he ended with a grin.
"Then that radiation did do something to them?" she asked.
"No, they've been like that. From interviews I did, they have been like this all their lives. Normal people would see what they could do and either panicked or called scientists to come to find out how they could do … whatever. Some were held against their will in confinement for experiments. Being harassed wherever they went was how they ended up in Driftwood. In that town, everyone works together no matter what they are. Like the Sheriff there told me, It doesn't matter where you're from, or what you are. What does matter is keeping the peace, working with others and helping the community. You do that and you're welcome here."
"Driftwood is a town of mutants?"
Eddie grinned, "I wouldn't be saying that to their faces. It might get a little unhealthy for you."
"Can you describe some of these … people?"
"In detail, no. Let's just say I was mildly surprised not to see Bigfoot walking down the street. I promised the Sheriff and many others I wouldn't discuss any details about anyone."
"The Government has imposed a ban for anything coming out of the Driftwood area. How do they make a living?"
"Most things they are making themselves. They don't use gasoline, they make alcohol to run vehicles and equipment. They grow most of their food, and as I said, kill wild pigs for meat. I imagine leather too. Certain people have specialties, and their main form of trade is barter. Not that they don't have cash, but they spend very frugally. Take the grocery store. To supply their generator, they need alcohol to run the lights, freezers and coolers. They trade food for alcohol. To get the food to trade, they give the gardeners something they need. Each place I went to had a bulletin board up. Items they have to trade and items needed. They are not using the power grid, but make their own electricity, things like someone to fix or rebuild an electric motor is on many boards. They do have places that makes parts, furniture, and a group that does road repairs. They don't live in a throw-away world. Everything is reused, if not for it's original use, it's turned into something else. There, I saw what has to be the oldest car on the road. It's a 1950's Plymouth, and it's in great shape, being driven every day. And yes, it runs on alcohol like every other vehicle I saw. They don't have the latest or greatest, but they do have a functioning community."
"It still sounds like the Government should step in and help."
"Nope," Eddie said firmly. "Most likely, they'd get ran out of town. A couple things I noticed from everyone, they don't trust the Government and they are some fiercely proud people. You have to remember, the government stomped on them hard with that nuke. Yet they came back and are rebuilding their community by themselves. No outside help whatsoever. They can't even sell anything outside their town. It's a restricted area, technically a nuclear wasteland."
"I'd think they would want to move away someplace easier to live," she noted.
Eddie shrugged. "Driftwood is their home. They survived a nuclear blast, then fought hard to remove the PSR from the whole country to keep it. I don't think anyone could get them to move. Knowing them, I doubt anyone could force them to move, either. It would end up in a very bloody fight."
"They never leave their town?" she asked.
"Some do. I know they go shopping in Dripping Springs now and then, and they are more than welcome there. I did get an on-camera interview from a woman who saw a couple of them.
The scene changed to the checkout line at a grocery store. The lady behind the counter said, "Yes! A couple women came in last week from Driftwood. I knew they were from Driftwood by their appearance."
"By their appearance?" an off Camera Eddie asked.
The woman grinned. "Well yeah, no normal people I've ever see have horns on their heads, red eyes or perfectly white hair! The manager told me to give them every discount, even if they didn't have a card, or any coupons. Those people are our heroes. When the government sent those PSR criminals to take over our town, it was Driftwood people who came and kicked their asses hard. I mean they slaughtered the PSR! They gave us our town back. We're always glad to see them and do whatever we can for them."
"You do whatever you can for them?"
"We do!" the woman beamed. "So does everyone in town. It's standard procedure to give them discounts and well, if the bill is a bit too high, reduce it so they can afford to pay. If it wasn't for Driftwood, there's a good chance I, and many of us would be dead now."
"Do you know who leads them?"
"John Connor!" she all but cheered. "A while back, we tried to get him to run for President, but he refused."
"John Connor? The John Connor the governors installed as Administrator a few years ago?" Eddie asked.
"The very same! He don't like politics, but if people are in trouble, he does everything he can to help out."
"John Connor lives in Driftwood?"
"We think so, we're not sure," she admitted. Waggling a finger, she said, "We're sure that nuke was dropped to try and kill him and his family. Didn't work though, and they came back to destroy the PSR. The one who led the Driftwood people here was John's wife, Cameron Connor. Nice lady, just don't get her angry. From what I know, it was their daughter, Jackie Connor who cleaned the PSR out of Johnson City."
"I take it they had stockpiled guns?" Eddie asked.
The woman shook her head. "Didn't see a one of them with a regular gun. They had some kind of energy weapon, hand held. Same was on their tanks. Seemed shooting them didn't do anything either, except make them shoot back."
"They had tanks?"
"They did. They weren't regular army tanks, kinda looked home-made to me. They were smaller, but those buggers were quick! When they showed up, they came to play, and the PSR didn't stand a chance. After all the PSR was dead, they helped us get ourselves back together, you know, back into our homes, did some fixing, made sure we got the stuff PSR stole from us back and distributed food. then they left."
"It sounds like Driftwood made it's own army," Eddie noted.
"They must have. I gotta say, I'm glad they did. No one else was lifting a finger to help us, we'll always be grateful to those people in Driftwood for saving us."
The scene shifted back to Eddie being interviewed. He said, "It doesn't surprise me that Driftwood has their own arms. That is the home of the Texas Guard Third Division and they have seen action before. In Mexico helping the Mexicans drive out the invading Chinese and before that, helping to keep the peace in Washington when John Connor was installed as Administrator until a Presidential election could be performed. From what I have learned, that is a tough unit. Apparently, a nuclear bomb wasn't enough to stop them. It wasn't but a week after they were hit, that they stormed into Dripping Springs."
The interviewer shook her head. "That's amazing. I would love to talk to some of those people."
"The only reason I was able to speak with anyone, was I've been there before," Eddie told her. "They already knew me and trusted me enough to see the town."
"What does the town look like now?" she asked.
"Much of it is deserted. There's plenty of repairing going on. The creepy thing is there's graves everywhere. Front yards, in one place part of what used to be a parking lot. So many died so fast, they buried them on their own property when they could." Eddie explained. "They used stones large enough to chisel in who's buried there. Remember, they probably didn't have any electricity after the bomb hit for refrigeration, but dead bodies everywhere. They had to get them buried as quickly as possible. I also saw ground zero. Right over a lake. That lake is now dead, there's nothing left alive there, and the water is toxic. From what I was told, that lake had been one of the most ecologically healthy lakes there was. All kinds of fish species, turtles, and alligators in it. It's a real sad sight to see. The very few species they did find alive, were moved to another lake and that lake is now all private property, no power boats allowed. The caretaker there also restricts any fishing, and no sport fishing is allowed."
"They are working hard to salvage what they can."
"They are." Eddie agreed. He grinned and added, "When I was up there at the hotel, I had to watch where I stepped to avoid stepping on baby alligators. By some miracle, a few survived, and they are being watched over."
"You said you can't give any details about the people who live there. Is there any odd thing that you saw that you can tell me about?" she asked.
Eddie laughed. "Sorry. I will tell you nearly everything we saw was odd in one way or another. Despite being odd, those are all good people, and I'm not going to betray their trust."
She nodded and said, "Sonya Connor, Police Commissioner for San Jose and San Francisco is seven feet four inches tall, and in very good shape. Is she related to any of the Driftwood Connors?"
"She is John, Cameron and Delilah's adopted daughter. Again, I can't give details about that."
The interviewer tipped her head slightly. "John, Cameron AND Delilah?"
"Yes, it's a threesome marriage. They aren't the only ones."
"Right, Joan Connor married Robert Tanner and Allison Young on the 50 yard line in Austin."
"Joan's got a bit of an ego thing going on," Eddie said with a grin. "With her football record, and being known as 'Miss Dynamite', I think that has something to do with it."
The interviewer smirked. "I imagine so. Do you plan on returning to Driftwood?"
"At sometime in the future. A vacation, maybe. There's a few things I'd like to check on and see how they're going. Plus, I'm not sure why, but I really like that place. For all the oddness I found, I also found it peaceful and relaxing."
"But, it's a high radiation area."
Eddie nodded. "Classified as such, and will be for 50 years until a complete survey is done. That puts a serious damper on their economy."
"I noted from the little bit you did tell me about the people there, it almost sounds like Driftwood is inhabited by … monsters."
Eddie laughed. Bending over and holding his stomach, he had a good laugh. After a couple minutes, he calmed down and wiped is eyes. "THAT's funny!" he said in a giggle. He then looked at the interviewer and said, "You want to know who the monsters are? The real monsters? Those like the PSR who try to ruin people's lives with their greed and corruption. Those who don't give a damn who they hurt, so long as they get their power. You want to see monsters? Don't go to Driftwood, but to Washington DC. You'll find plenty of monsters there. Monsters aren't people who look odd or can do things no one else can. It's how someone acts that determines if they are a monster or not. The Sheriff's secretary is about the scariest looking woman I've ever seen. Yet she searches for pigs to collect to help the community eat. She does everything she can for the Driftwood residents. Yes, upon first seeing her, you just might wet yourself, run screaming or faint. She is also a one of the best people I've ever met. She works hard for her community. I would by no means, call her a monster."
"She looks scary? How? She's ugly?" the interviewer prodded.
"She's not ugly," Eddie said. "Just rather frightening looking until you get used to her."
"What is it that makes her so scary looking then?"
"The most I'll say is she has … features not normally associated with humans." Eddie stated.
"And you know this person."
Eddie let out a sigh. "You know there's lots of things I saw there I wish I could tell you about. Some were pretty funny, others not so much so. Other things were amazing. Some, impossible to believe unless you see it yourself." he then paused and with a shake of his head, said quietly said, "No, we're not going to do that."
"Do what?" she asked, watching him intently.
Eddie looked at her, surprised. He then winced. "Said that aloud, didn't I?" he asked.
She nodded. "What was it you're not going to do?" she prodded.
Eddie looked off at nothing and said, "You know, I think I will go back to Driftwood. Right after this interview. At least there, we are accepted."
"We?" she asked.
"Yeah, I got a symbiote. He's also reminding me it's time to go get some food," Eddie said with a sigh.
"You mean like a symbiotic life form?"
"Yup." Eddie was then wrapped up in a black substance. He slowly stood up as the interviewer bore a look of shock and stumbled back out of her seat to get away from the black eight foot monster with huge teeth that stood before her.
The monster pointed a long claw at her and intoned, "We are Venom. Have a nice day."
Face open in a shocked gape, the interviewer only stared with wide eyes from the floor as he walked out.
Sally Bennett, the interviewer who got the crap scared out of her when Eddie Brock turned into a big black toothy monster, reviewed her interview after she cleaned up, changed and got herself together. Listening carefully to Eddie and now seeing him in a new light, she understood all to well that there were things in Driftwood that were far from human.
She wanted to know more about this place. At the moment the only semi-public Connor figure was Sonya Connor, the Police Commissioner. She called San Jose to see about getting an interview with her. After talking to a secretary and a public relations man, she was told she'd be contacted if Miss Connor agreed to an interview. By how the man sounded, it wasn't a good idea to hold her breath waiting.
Another figure she desperately wanted to talk to was John Connor. She couldn't even find a phone listing for him. The only number she found for Driftwood at all was the Sheriff's office, so she called.
A female voice answered. "Sheriff's Office, may I help you?"
"May I speak with the Sheriff," Sally asked meekly.
"He's out at the moment. Who is this?"
"Sally Bennett, if it's possible, I would like to do an interview with the Sheriff, or John Connor."
"I see. Who do you work for, Sally?"
"I'm a reporter for the Daily News, here in New York. I just had an interview with Eddie Brock, and I find I have more questions than answers. I know your town has been badly abused by the Government and the people there are different. I would really like to get a story out about your dilemma, being isolated there with no support whatsoever."
"I'll ask the Sheriff when he comes back. Really though, we can take care of ourselves here. No need for you to worry about us."
"May I ask who you are?" Sally asked to get some information.
"I'm the Sheriff's secretary."
"Your name is?" Sally coaxed.
"The Secretary is my official name."
"What do people call you?" Sally prodded.
"Secretary."
"You don't have a name besides Secretary?"
"Not officially, no."
"Do you have an unofficial name?"
"I do, but right now, I'm on official business."
Sally let out a huff. "I suppose the Sheriff doesn't have a name either?"
"He does, he's the Sheriff."
Sally tried another angle. "When he's at home, or off duty, what's his name?"
"The Sheriff."
"Why won't you tell me what your names are?"
"I just did."
"Has the Sheriff told you to use only your official names, and not mention what your real names are?" Sally guessed.
"No, but as I said, this is official business, so I give my official name. Why did you want to know our personal names?"
"So I know who I'm talking to," Sally said, becoming irritated.
"Just feel lucky you get to talk to a real person instead of a computer, as most people do."
Sally rubbed her forehead. "Please, inform the Sheriff I would like to speak with him, or with John Connor."
"Yes, I said I would do that right after the Sheriff gets in. Is there anything else?"
"No, thank you for your help. Bye."
"Have a nice day," the Secretary chirped.
Sally realized Eddie was right, they didn't trust anyone outside their town. Information on anyone from that town was miniscule. For how active they were in recent events, that didn't add up. They had done some great things and should be household names. That was, as far as public information went. What had they done that wasn't public? These were very private people.
John Connor sat in the President's seat, but the moment the new elected President came in, he disappeared. Joan Connor, top quarterback, and soldier had a short piece on the news, showing her and her whole group bandaged up on the field and going out to fight again. Her mother, Cameron Connor had also been a college football star. Made a movie and TV show, and financed good charity concerts, Sonya Connor, soldier, actress and Police Commissioner. Jackie Connor, who not only survived a plane crash, but also got a few others out as well, had been a soldier herself, and a top fencer beating a gold medal champion. Every Connor she'd heard about were active and did amazing things. Yet to the general public, they barely existed.
They were just a few of the unknowns in Driftwood. Unknowns who apparently were very powerful. Just like that big black thing Brock had turned into. That had shocked her. She never had a clue something like him existed. Even seeing that, she knew Driftwood was one special place, and she wanted to find out details. She needed to know about the people who could shake off being hit with a nuclear bomb.
.
Sally did get a call from another reporter not long after her interview was aired. Her producer put her on another assignment.
"But, there's so much to find out about Driftwood," she complained. Please, just give me a month more on it."
"No, that interview is done. I want you to work on the homeless problem in New York. That is top priority."
"Yes, Sir," Sally grumbled.
It wasn't a couple hours later that she got another call.
"Sally Bennett."
"Sally, I saw your interview, this is Jessica Kincaid of the Inquirer. I noticed your interview with Brock looked like it was cut off. He was telling about the good people in Driftwood, then a commercial came on, followed by another news story. Was that really the end of your interview?"
Sally knew Jessica Kincaid was one who liked to spin conspiracy theories. "It was near the end," she admitted. "So the final couple minutes wasn't shown?"
"No. I'm curious why that happened. What did you cover in that last couple minutes?"
Sally said to herself, "So, his change wasn't aired."
"What change? Sally, did Brock do something?"
"He left," Sally said. For some reason she didn't want to say what happened.
"Sally," Jessica said firmly. "You were talking about monsters with Eddie. I do see his point, and he's right. Monsters are the one who take advantage of others just for their own gain. What I am concerned about is the end that was cut off. I know it was done on purpose. That commercial came in one minute, thirty seconds early. I have to wonder why that was. What did Brock say or do that made the station cut to commercial?"
Being a reporter, the truth mattered to Sally. She swallowed, then said, "Eddie said to himself he wasn't going to do that. I prodded him on what he wasn't going to do. He told me he was going back to Driftwood because at least there, he was accepted. He changed and told me to have a nice day."
"How did he change?"
Sally let out a giggle. "You know, he was very evasive on what the people in Driftwood looked like."
"Yes, he said things like the Sheriff's Secretary was scary looking, but a good person," Jessica agreed.
"Well, he proved he can look frightening," Sally said.
"What? Like he got mean?"
"No, but … he grew. He became eight feet tall, turned all black and had these huge teeth a shark would envy!" Sally said quickly. "I was so scared just looking at him I wet myself!"
"You're kidding!" Jessica stated flatly.
"No! He was friggin HUGE! He had these long nails on his claws and … God, he was frightening looking. The worst part? I talked to the Sheriff's secretary on the phone, trying to get information. Yes, she was pleasant but evasive as well and wouldn't even give out any proper names, but he told me when he first met her, he was scared of HER! Seeing him change, I have to wonder how terrifying she looks!"
There was a pause, then Jessica said, "You are telling me the truth, aren't you?"
"YES!"
Softly, Jessica asked, "Just what did that bomb do to those people? It must have changed their DNA. We need to get together and compare notes. Then we have got to go see for ourselves what's in Driftwood."
