Agents of the Internet Apocalypse (26 page)

Read Agents of the Internet Apocalypse Online

Authors: Wayne Gladstone

But the best one I saw had been spray painted in black on the wall outside the L.A. Veterans Affairs building where we'd been holding Gladstone. It popped up the day I was told my services were no longer needed, and seeing it helped just a little because as I walked away, the building's tall white walls now read in fifteen-foot letters:

The Internet isÂ â¦

People. And We're Still Here.

I'm going to find Gladstone and tell him about that. I hope it brings some comfort, but I'm not looking to heal him. I need his cuts and bruises. I need to examine the body. Before I was terminated, I got a chance to speak with Tobey, who was being held as a person of interest and domestic-terror suspect. I asked him if he thought I'd find Gladstone alive. He wasn't feeling talkative, still in that stage of capture where you resent your coconspirators even when insisting there's no conspiracy. He did say, however, that dying wasn't an option for Gladstone, because then he'd have to stop whining.

I'm counting on that, on his capacity for pain. Because each blow I study will tell me something more about what we're up against. I know Gladstone saw his wife die in front of him, but he saw something even more than that to send him running. Worse than runningâhiding. This is no subway escape to a drunken weekend. He's seen something dark enough to keep him hidden. And I want to see the burns so I recognize that branding iron and the men who carry it when they come for me.

Maybe we'll find the Net, but first I'm going to do what I do. I'm going to find my man. I've already done what any investigator would do: checked the airports, the bank accounts and transactions. I found the withdrawn money and the plane ticket purchased in cash. And then I did something else, on a whim. I checked the airport's lost and found. Several. There's not just one. And do you know what I found? His grandfather's fedora, thrashed and bloodstained. I had it cleaned up for him. They did what they could. It helped a bit. It will be nice to bring him something other than my microscope for his pain. And in the meantime, I'm wearing it. I hope it brings me luck.

According to the label, the hat is from New York, and so am I. As I sit here and look out my window, I think about how we'd both like to go home, and someday I hope we will. Gladstone too. But there's still work to do and New York is not where this plane is headed.

Acknowledgments

This novel exists because my editor, Peter Joseph, had faith in it before it was even written. And it exists in its current form because he allowed me the time and freedom to keep working until it was the book I wanted it to be. Of course my agent, Lauren Abramo, also ensured its creation by believing in Book One of this trilogy, and getting it published in the first place before continuing on as my personal sherpa through the labyrinth of publishing and neurosis.

Thank you to everyone who was good enough to buy
Notes from the Internet Apocalypse.
That tangible level of interest was tremendously encouraging as I worked to deliver this novel. And while we're discussing Book One, thank you to Liz Coleman for supporting that project so fiercely and teaching me how speak Australian.

This book was also made possible by Carl, Amy Jo, Ruari, Evi, and everyone at The Growler who kept me in Jamesons and fried pickles during its final stages. Thank you also to all the early readers of this book for their time and input. It is greatly appreciated. And thank you to Randall Maynard for all the art and kindness he has given me.

Lastly, I need to thank Maura Chwastyk. Unlike Book One,
Agents of the Internet Apocalypse
is an L.A. story. While I have been to Los Angeles on several occasions, and the story is meant to be told from the perspective of a visitor, countless times during the writing of this book, I still needed inside information. Something beyond a traveler's impressions or the details of an Internet search. I needed someone to help me see. Someone not only to hold up an L.A. scene, but to focus on the same details I would, if my eyes were fixed on that setting. I was very lucky to meet Maura, a Los Angeles expatriate, during the writing of this book. She was an invaluable resource, delivering such carefully observed details that it became my job as writer not to destroy the inherent magic of her impressions as I pulled them from her e-mails and fastened them to the page.

About the Author

WAYNE GLADSTONE
is a longtime columnist for
Cracked.com
and the author of
Notes from the Internet Apocalypse
. He is the creator and star of the Hate by Numbers online video series. His writing has appeared on McSweeney's Internet Tendency, Comedy Central's Indecision, and in the collections
You Might Be a Zombie and Other Bad News
and
The McSweeney's Joke Book of Book Jokes
. He lives in New York. You can sign up for email updates
here
.

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