Free Stones: Theory (Stones #4) by Jacob Whaler

much.”
    A look of surprise flashes across the driver’s face. “How do you know my name?”
    Matt smiles. “You look like a Tom. Sure, steady, strong, kind, willing to help. Now tell me. Anything interesting going on in the world?”
    “Lots of things are going on. Not all of them good.”
    Matt puts a hand into his pack behind him and takes out a stainless steel bottle of water. “What about Shinto? Have they started building the shrines here yet? We’ve been mostly off-grid up in the mountains ever since The Event.” He pops off the cap and offers a drink to Jessica.
    “It’s taking over. Construction in every city and town across the country, even back home in Texas.” Tom’s gaze drops down between his ankles. “The most thoroughly and deeply Christian spot of ground in the continental United States. Nothing but Second Birthers and Apostles. Always at each other’s throats, ever since I was a kid. Well, guess what happened last week?”
    Matt shakes his head. “No idea.” Reaching over Jessica and Yarah, he offers a drink of water to Tom. “Tell me.”
    “Thanks,” Tom says. “Don’t mind if I do.” He holds the bottle two inches from his lips and pours a neat stream into his mouth. “Well, in my hometown the preachers for the Second Birthers got together with the preachers for the Apostles. That’s
never
happened before. After their meeting, they walked to the mayor’s office and petitioned him to have our town be in the first wave of completed Shinto shrines. It’s already built. I saw it yesterday when I left. Right across the street from City Hall.” He hands the bottle back to Jessica.
    Jessica takes another sip and offers it to Yarah. “From what I hear, Shinto is unlike any other religion. No catechism or articles of faith. No baptism or initiation ceremony. Just go to the shrine once in a while and be one with Nature.”
    As she speaks, the road makes a broad turn to the right, leaving the open fields and farms and gliding back toward the mountains and trees. The grade gets steeper, and the transport slows down to make the climb.
    Tom shakes his head and purses his lips. “With all due respect, I’d stay away from it.” His hand reaches out and touches the console. A holo image of the road jumps up, and he studies it. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have anything against the Japanese. I love the food. Nothing better than a big bowl of ramen noodles after a round of sushi rolls and fried gyoza.”
    At the mention of food, Yarah perks up. “I love gyoza too.” She looks up at Jessica. “I’m hungry. Can we have some today?”
    Tom laughs. “There’s a great little Japanese restaurant on the side of the road just a few hours ahead. I was planning to stop anyway. You folks are welcome to join me.” Both hands leave the steering wheel and fish under his seat. He comes up with a paper bag spotted with grease. “In the meantime, why don’t you chew on this. Made it myself.”
    Yarah looks to Jessica for permission. When she gets the nod, she takes the bag and opens it.
    The sweet smell of beef jerky fills the cab.
    “Go ahead,” Tom says. “You folks look hungry. Now, what was I talking about?”
    Jessica takes a long reddish strip of meat out of the bag. “Staying away from Shinto.” One end goes into her mouth, and she bites off a piece.
    “Right.” Tom settles back into his seat. “Like I said. I don’t have anything against the idea of unity and nature and the whole Japanese concept of harmony. But I got a bad feeling about this. And I’m not the only one.”
    The transport plunges into a forest of broad leaf trees forming a canopy over the top. As they move through the natural tunnel, shadows mix with light to create a jumbled jigsaw effect. On either side, a wall of brown trunks, veined branches and dense undergrowth add to a closed-in feeling. The cab seems to get smaller.
    As Matt stares out the window at the darkness, Yarah’s words play through his mind.
    He