by Pieter Lars
He stood and held the cupboard closed. Samantha was yelling something at him. He looked over to see her pointing toward the foyer.
“WHAT?” he yelled.
“THE DOOR BELL! SOMEONE’S RINGING IT!”
He shook his head and stomped his way to the front door, swinging it open as angrily as he could.
Tobias stood on the front step, bare-chested under his leather vest. The silver glitter polish on his toenails glinted in the morning sun.
“Dude,” Tobias said. “How’s it going?”
“What the heck are you doing here, Tobias? How do you know where I live?”
The air outside felt electric. The hair on his arms and neck stood up.
“The Skrillex took me, dude. They’re back!”
“The what? The Skrillex? Isn’t that-”
“Crazy, right? I knew they would be back. They said so. When they abducted me that first time I thought I was just trippin’. They said they were going to come back and take me on a vacation, but I just figured I was hallucinating. I don’t know if you know this about me, Tom, but I’ve done a lot of drugs. Sometimes I get flashbacks.”
“Oh. Really? I never would have thought that about you, Tobias.” Tom tried his best to keep his face straight.
Samantha walked up behind him and peeked her head out over his shoulder.
“Hi, Tobias! What’s up? What’s all the noise about?”
“Samantha! Hey! How’s it going? The Skrillex are here!”
“The Skrillex? Isn’t that-”
“The aliens! They’re back!”
“Where?” Tom asked.
Did he have to dig out the aluminum hats they wore last time? He wasn’t sure he remembered where he had stored them. It was good to have a repeat apocalypse though, considering the NEA was AWOL. At least he knew he had right supplies.
Tobias pointed up to the sky. “There!”
Tom and Samantha stepped out onto the front stoop and looked up. A flying saucer was hovering in the air about thirty feet above the condo complex.
It was big. Not super big, like in those Independence movies, but pretty big. Maybe fifty yards in diameter? It was hard to tell. Tom tended to get vertigo when he looked up.
“Holy crap!” Samantha said. “Is that real? Is it going to laser us to death? What are the aliens like? You’ve seen them, right Tobias?”
“Pshaw,” Tobias scoffed. “Of course I’ve seen them. They frickin abducted me! I spent, like, the whole week with them! They’re super cool though. You’re going to love them.”
“What do you mean we’re going to love them?” Tom said, but already he was feeling the prickling in his skin.
He looked over at Samantha and saw that her hair was standing on end, even frizzier and curlier than normal. Warm light washed over them, followed by a low hum. If he wasn’t so terrified the sound would have been soothing, like resting your head on the chest of a giant purring tiger.
But as he rose into the sky he felt the tension leave his shoulders. Samantha took a deep breath and let it out slow, reaching out to take his hand. He gave hers a little squeeze.
This must be what death feels like. He looked over at Tobias, but the weird hippy wasn’t there. Tom wiggled in the tractor beam until he could look down at the street below. Tobias stood on his front porch with a huge grin, waving up at them.
“Don’t worry about your animals!” Tobias yelled. “I’ll take care of them! Just enjoy yourselves!”
The humming grew louder until it felt like his very bones were vibrating. But, like, in a soothing way, not a liquefaction way.
They were drawn up and up until they hovered just beneath the saucer. A spiraled aperture opened in the saucer’s belly and the sky filled with white light. Tom squinted. He squeezed Samantha’s hand tighter.
Tobias didn’t seem too concerned. And the humming was real nice. And he and Samantha had discussed a vacation. Maybe being probed and prodded by extraterrestrials wouldn’t be so bad.
It couldn’t be much worse than hell spawn or cosmic horrors or dragons or zombies.
In fact, it was a million times better.
Once the vertigo and the nausea faded he and Samantha had found themselves in a sterile room with two metal tables. A little gray bald man with wide-set eyes entered the room. He wore a lab coat and slippers. Aside from his stature, his four fingers, and his enormous eyes and slit nose, he wasn’t terribly alien.
Tom had expected clawed monsters, or brain-sucking slugs. The kind of alien that came to mind when you said the word “Skrillex.”
But, no, the Skrillex were pretty much your garden variety extra-terrestrial. It turned out that all those people living in Roswell were correct. Their signs were accurate, their descriptions of UFOs were accurate, even their abduction stories were mostly accurate.
This particular Skrillex came into the room with a futuristic clipboard. Like a small tablet computer with a blue stylus. He (Tom guessed it was a ‘he’ based on the tiny row of tendrils lining the alien’s upper lip) gestured at Tom and patted the metal table beside him.
Tom felt his glutes contract in anticipation.
The Skrillex seemed to understand Tom’s fears. He opened his large gummy mouth and smiled.
“Please, mister Brown,” the Skrillex said. “I am Grathnabix Volantix. Doctor Volantix in your tongue. I assure you we will not probe you in any of the ways you are imagining.”
Volantix looked at Samantha and gave her a reassuring smile as well. “Nor you, Misses Taylor. We only wish to ensure that you are completely healthy and free of disease. Consider this a complementary purification.”
Tom looked around. The only door was the one which Volantix had come through. Could he and Samantha make a run for it? Was there any reason to? If they did, where would they go?
“Did your friend not tell you about his experience with us?” Volantix asked. “I completely understand any hesitation the two of you might be feeling. Our public relations campaigns on earth did not go as planned. We attribute it to certain semantic ambiguities and some physiological misunderstandings.”
“So you aren’t going to probe us in uncomfortable places?” Samantha asked.
Volantix gave another broad grin.
The Skrillex were kind of friendly, once you were face to face with them. Volantix’s smile was a bit like that blue alien in the disney film. Ear-to-ear and toothy.
“No. He said. We do get requests from some of our other guests, but now that we have learned what all of your orifices are actually used for, they make us embarrassed.”
Samantha nodded. She seemed fairly at ease. Tom wasn’t so sure.
“So what are you testing? Why do we need the check ups?”
“It is just a courtesy. Removing any impurities from your bodies, and giving you an immune system boost. If you do not wish to participate I will not force you. However, it will mean that you are only allowed into our level two resort package, and not the elite level three.”
Resort package?
Tom and Samantha reclined on chaise lounges, sipping daiquiris while the Skrillex saucer sailed through the sky over the Dynjandi waterfall.
Earlier that morning they had flown over the Austrian alps, which thrilled Samantha to no end. She had always wanted to visit Austria and, while this ‘cruise’ wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, it was a relaxing way to see the world.
The saucer had an enormous floor-to-ceiling screen on the viewing deck. Air and humidity was regulated, with slight modifications so they and the rest of the passengers could experience simulated smells, temperatures, and weather conditions at each site (without the extremes you would normally suffer).
So Tom and Samantha felt a cool mist on their faces and smelled the frigid water as they flew over the waterfall. Earlier it had been the scent of alpine forest and grassy meadows with the warm sun on their faces.
They could view the itinerary on personal tablet computers that had been issued to them. Next was a half-day fly
over of the Northwest Passage.
Meals were served in the dining hall, but you could request room-service, or even bring your plates and drinks back to the viewing decks. Everything was automated. The food was delicious, and you could order whatever you wanted. Tom had rib-eye steaks for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
And he didn’t even have to worry about what it was doing to his health!
Volantix’s medical examination turned out to be nothing more than a few metallic pills. They boosted Tom and Samantha’s metabolism, cleared up their skin, streamlined their digestion, cured Tom’s pre-gingivitis, and a whole host of other minor ailments or potentially major ailments.
Neither of them had ever felt better.
“Even that freckle on my elbow is gone!” Samantha had exclaimed once the procedure was complete.
Volantix warned them that the effects wouldn’t last forever, but they would enjoy a few years of super-health. They were really glad they had consented, because those who hadn’t weren’t allowed in the larger common areas. They still had the room-service and entertainment packages, but they had to watch the ever-changing landscape out of smaller screens in their bunks.
It was like first-class vs coach, or getting a sleeper car on a cross-country train. You did not want to be the person trying to sleep sitting up straight on a hard foam chair.
Tom could understand their paranoia, though. He’d only really consented to the procedure because his nihilism told him that, after living in a world with weekly apocalypses, things couldn’t really get worse. And Tobias had raved about his time with the Skrillex.
Sure, they had been abducted against their will, but they had already been planning a vacation anyway. Tom was unemployed, and Mr. Phillips sure couldn’t fire Samantha just because she had been carried away by extraterrestrials.
They resolved to enjoy every moment of their abduction.
The saucer passed over a series of fjords and Samantha turned to Tom with a smile.
“I’m glad your field training was cancelled,” she said.
Tom smiled back. “I guess I am too. It was fun, and I felt like I was doing well at it, but I definitely missed you, and this vacation is nice.”
“I know. It’s so wonderfully relaxing.” She rubbed her chin and frowned. “What are you going to do when we get back?
Tom shrugged and took another sip of his daiquiri. “I don’t know. I was hoping I might be called back, but the NEA seems to have gone AWOL.”
It was true. After the NEA had failed to supply the apocalypse boxes that Monday most people assumed it was because the aliens had returned and most people still had their supplies from the last visitation.
But then there had been reports that the NEA wasn’t answering their phones. Their website and social media hadn’t been updated in close to a week, and their public affairs team hadn’t issued any statements.
Reporters around the country were posted outside each NEA field office, as well as their D.C. headquarters, but all the buildings had remained closed. Worse, nobody seemed to be entering or leaving, no matter what time of day it was.
“What do you think is going on?” Samantha asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe their funding got cut?”
“Or maybe something big is coming, and they’re off in a secret location making preparations. Maybe they all just cut and run, and they’re holed up in those secret bunkers the conspiracy theorists claim they built.”
Tom thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think they would abandon everyone. Jason wouldn’t. Everyone I met was super committed to their work. It was the exact opposite of how you picture a government agency working. Everyone always says government workers are lazy and entitled, just collecting their fat pensions. But everyone I met at the camp and at the orientation were almost zealous in their commitment to their jobs. It’s part of the reason I wanted to work there so bad.”
“Well,” Samantha said. “Maybe after we get back things will be different. Let’s just enjoy this week.”
And they did.
6
Seismic Activity
Tom held Samantha’s hand as they crossed the wood plank to the other side of the street. He looked down at the chasm below, which was a mistake, as it was so deep he couldn’t see the bottom. It made him dizzy.
As soon as they stepped off the plank the ground gave another shudder and the chasm grew. The plank slipped into the crevasse and clattered down into the depths of the earth.
They’d been dealing with this all week. Chasms opening up left and right, swallowing cars and buildings. He couldn’t use his Subaru, and most of the bus lines were closed so they were forced to walk or bike to work.
Well, Samantha was. Tom still didn’t have a job.
And last night’s earthquake had swallowed their back patio, along with Samantha’s ten-speed.
It was slow going, but after another couple blocks they reached the Genesis Insurance Solutions parking lot.
“You have your lunch?” Tom asked.
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for packing it. The sandwich looks great.” She leaned over and kissed him.
“Have a good day, babe,” he said.
“You sure you don’t want to come in and talk to Mister Phillips? I guarantee he’ll give you a job. He likes you.”
“Well he sure did a bad job of showing it. No, I’m good. I’m going to go home and do some more job searching.”
“Ok, well, good luck. I’ll call you on my lunch break.”
She waved goodbye and disappeared into the office building.
Tom turned to leave but another earthquake shook the ground and he stumbled to his knees. A rumbling filled the air. He looked up to see the north side of the Trustfree Bank Building collapse into a pile of dust and broken glass.
There was a call center on that side of the building, with row after row of cubicles. A few of the telemarketers looked up from their computers to briefly survey the damage, then turned back to their calls.
He had a brief moment of panic, remembering that Trustfree held their insurance policy with Genesis. But he no longer worked there, so it wasn’t his problem!
A grin spread across his face, and he practically skipped his way to the bus stop.
He stopped by his favorite ramen shop which was, thankfully, still standing. While he was slurping away at a table in the corner someone turned on the television. Tom ignored it until he realized that the restaurant was suddenly silent.
He looked up to see the face of Earl Smothers, seated at a metal desk, wearing a short-sleeved white shirt and tie. It was an APN broadcast that had cut to “breaking news.”
Why they were giving this guy more coverage was beyond Tom. Trolls fed on attention.
Still, he wondered if Earl was somehow responsible for the NEA’s silence. Maybe a reporter had discovered that Earl used to work for them, and they were on radio-silence until their public relations department could figure out how to spin it.
Tom was surprised to find that he was pretty bitter about having his field training cancelled by some basement-dweller with a superiority complex.
Earl was mouthing something, but the television was on mute. The ticker at the bottom read: BREAKING NEWS. Fired scientist claims he has evidence of NEA corruption.”
Someone turned up the volume and Earl’s nasally voice blared from the television: “-have you know that, despite what the corrupt NEA has said about me, I was and am perfectly stable, mentally or otherwise. My actions are meant to show the hypocrisy of the National Eschatological Agency, and their corrupt and dishonest management. They claim to protect and serve the public, but they have had a solution to these ‘apocalypses’ for years. If they chose to, they could put a stop to them at any moment. I know this because I helped develop the technology that created them in the first place. To prove it my team and I have determined that, starting tomorrow, there will no longer be weekly apocalypses. They will be daily. The NEA is fully capable of ending
these nightmares. I predict that they will not, and their hypocrisy will finally be revealed. You can read more on my blog at-”
The feed cut off, replaced by the face of one of the APN’s newscasters. Someone pressed mute before he could add his commentary.
Tom looked around. The rest of the diners had resumed their conversations.
He turned back to his own bowl and finished eating.
7
Creepy Clowns
Sure enough, as soon as the clock struck midnight, Tom woke to find that his condo was no longer shaking. A few car alarms outside were honking, but after a few minutes they stopped as well.
He wondered briefly what the world would look like in the morning (had the new apocalypse already begun?) but he was too tired to get up and he didn’t want to wake Samantha. She was whispering cooing noises in her sleep. Probably comforting some wounded dream-animal, or coaxing it into her dream-car.
“Tom! I had the best dream last night,” Samantha called from the bathroom. “I was in this weird grassy field and there was this emu staring at me from behind a giant pinwheel lollipop. It had this look on its face - the emu, not the lollipop - like it was lost and desperately wanted a home. So I started calling to it-”
She gasped. Her toothbrush fell into the sink and she let out a ear-splitting scream.
“No. No. No. No!”
Tom lept out of bed and ran into the bathroom. Samantha was sitting on the toilet with her hands over her eyes, shaking her head from side to side.
“What is it? What happened? Was there a moth?”
Samantha, for some odd reason, was deathly afraid of moths. It’s their furry little bodies and furry little wings with that skull pattern. Tom had tried to explain to her that the skull pattern was only on certain moths, but then he realized that her fear of moths could probably be traced directly to The Silence of the Lambs. And who was he to judge? The only reason he was so scared of spiders was because of that John Goodman movie.