Episode 3.2 "The Benefits of Sleeping In"

A few minutes after I decided to head up to my floor, I heard the chime of Omni-Com’s paging system, and heard the following message: “Ira Holtz, please report to the fifteenth floor.” This made me more uncomfortable. How did anyone know that I had arrived if no one is at reception? Ignoring the small part of me that kept repeating “something is definitely wrong here,” I walked past the empty reception desk, and headed towards the elevators. As soon as I rounded the corner, I heard a scream reverberating off of the walls within the stairwell, along with frantic, pounding footsteps. The stairwell door slammed open, and a woman that I partially recognized as someone from the robotics division bolted out.

“Run! Go! Go!” There was a feral panic in her voice. Yeah. Something was definitely wrong here.

As the woman got closer, I could see that she was nursing a slight limp. Her white lab coat was stained with patches of blood, which also matted her short blond hair making it cling to the right side of her face.

“Are…are you okay?” I asked, realizing that I sounded like an idiot. Of course she wasn’t okay.

“Just move! We need to get out of here, and fast.” We ran back towards reception just to see metal grilles slide down from the ceiling, blocking our access to the doors that led outside.

“Dammit!” The woman hissed, “Please tell me you’re a security guard who miraculously has the keys to this side of the building.” I shrugged, wishing that I could say, “Yes ma’am!” and save the day. But reality seldom works that way.

“Nope. Sorry. I’m just one of the programmers from the fifteenth floor.” I replied sheepishly.

“The fifteenth…how did you get down here?” She sounded impressed, which made me hesitant to provide the real answer.

“Well, I…slept in. I got here about ten minutes ago.” To my surprise, she started to laugh.

“You’re alive because you’re too damn lazy to get up on time?” More laughter. Her face lit up beneath the layer of sweat and blood that it had accumulated.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to make fun. You’re actually extremely lucky. If you got here on time, you’d probably be dead by now.” A jolt of panic shot through me as I considered these words. Had my alarm gone off as scheduled today, I wouldn’t be having this conversation right now because apparently, I’d be dead.

Episode 3.1

EPISODE 3: "OMNOS COMETH"
STARRING: IRA THE GEEK
SAN JOSE, CA



My knuckles had long since turned white as my shaky hands gripped the steering wheel of my Ford Focus. It had been roughly two hours since we escaped Omni-Com, and even though most of its employees were now corpses within its walls, I hadn’t heard a peep about it on any of the news channels I tried on the radio. Every five minutes I would change stations, gradually turning up the volume to drown out the snoring that was coming from the back seat where my grandmother was dozing. Veronica was sitting in the passenger seat with her unblinking eyes fixed steadily on the road in front of us. Her blond hair was pulled back in a short ponytail and was still wet from the process of washing out the blood of her coworkers. Small, dried bits of it were still trapped in the contours of her ear, signifying the speed at which we got out of town.

As the interstate unfolded before me, my mind struggled to comprehend the events that took place at Omni-Com this morning. Everything—the malfunctioning maintenance systems, the screams, and the blood—started with a simple automated phone call that was received by all Omni-Com employees last night, and eventually led roughly 99% of them do their deaths. I’m alive right now because a power outage shut off my alarm clock. I woke up somewhere around ten and frantically threw my clothes on, leaving without showering or eating breakfast.

When I pulled in to the Omni-Com parking lot, it was packed. I thought that this meeting was just for my software development department, but it looked like the whole damn company was there. The sliding glass doors slid open as I hurriedly approached them, but there was no one at reception to tell me where the meetings were taking place. I thought it was a bit odd to leave the entrance unmanned. Usually the atrium of Omni-Com is bustling with movement, but today it was eerily silent and devoid of people. I wandered around the atrium for a few minutes, hoping to bump into someone that could tell me where I was supposed to be, but the place was like a ghost town.

Episode 2.7: "Rock Band"

“Guys, something’s coming. Fast.”

“I see them,” Randall replied with a slight quiver to his voice, “Two of ‘em. Coming from where we left the bus.”

“Shit!” Maxine burst out, “Let’s get back into the bathroom before it sees us!”

“I think it might be too late,” Elvis said as we huddled together, “Whatever it is, it knows we’re here. Grab somethin’ to fight with!” Up until Elvis uttered these words, I was filled with absolute panic. We had something to fight with.

“The amp!” I shouted, “It is a weapon! It’ll kill these bastards!”

“Ed, we’re about to be attacked and possibly flayed alive. Please get a grip.” I could hear the despair in Maxine’s voice.

“Trust me,” I said calmly, “I need someone to bring me my guitar, plug it into the amp, and aim it towards those things coming at us.” In a few minutes, I felt my guitar shoved into my waiting arms.

“You better be right, blind man,” Randall growled as he connected my instrument to the amp, “It’s plugged in, but there’s no power cord! How you gonna use this thing?”

“Just aim the amp and stand back!” I yelled, hoping and praying that something miraculous would happen. The fiery blob had now gotten close enough for me to see its twisted shape, and I could hear its razor chains clink together as it ran. I slashed my hand across the strings, and immediately felt my instrument charge and pulsate with electricity. What happened next was quite extraordinary. The guitar became warm in my hands, and I could feel each note explode from the amp as if I was firing a submachine gun. I heard brief shrieks of pain, a diarrhea-like splatter, and then a series of cheers from Randall, Elvis, and Maxine.

“Day-umn, bro!” Elvis chuckled, “You vaporized the hell outt’ve ‘it! A blue laser beam shot outta the amp and blew that thing right off its legs!” The praises and laughter continued for a few more minutes until Maxine said, “Anyone have any idea what the hell that thing was? I know more like it attacked us last night, but what are they? Where’d they come from?”

“What did it look like?” I asked, hoping for something different than a human made out of fire and rage.

“It looked, y’know human, but…all mangled and bloody. The thing had chains wrapped around its body, like it was welded to its skin. Oh, it was wearin’ some sort of iron helmet, so I couldn’t see its face. Y’all think there could be a weird ass cult of godless sodomites out here?” Randall’s description made my skin crawl slightly.

“Who cares what it was,” Elvis chimed in, “That amp over there dusted it off pretty nice, and that’s all that matters to me.” There was a moment of silence. Pieces of a strange puzzle suddenly formed themselves together into a clear picture. Our immediate future was clouded by uncertainty and darkness. But we didn’t have to face it alone and unarmed.

“The signs are pretty clear. We’re musicians and the amp turns music into a weapon. We’ve been given an opportunity to fight whatever these things are, and I think we have to take it.” My companions waited for a few moments, and I was worried that my feeble attempt at a battle cry had fallen flat.

“So…” Elvis began, “You’re suggesting that in light of the apocalypse, we form a band?” Maxine and Randall looked strangely satisfied with this idea.

“Hell, I’m game,” Elvis continued, “What’re we gonna call ourselves?”

Episode 2.6: "The Donkey Harbinger"

“Ed? Ed wake up! We need to talk outside.” It was Maxine’s voice, and she sounded unexpectedly excited. As I stood up, Maxine took my hand and led me outside, which was mercifully stench-free. I could hear Randall and Elvis speaking quickly, along with a braying sound that was completely unexpected.

“Is…is there a donkey out here?” I asked, fully aware of how stupid this question sounded.

“Yeah! And it brought all our stuff from the bus with it!”

“That ain’t all,” Elvis sounded amazed, “It brought this shiny-lookin’ amp along too. We were wonderin’ if it was yours, since it don’t belong to any of us.”

“Uh, I didn’t bring an amp with me,” I replied, “Just my guitar and my bag.” My weird dream suddenly came back to me.

“Wait. Let me touch the amp.” Maxine led me a few steps and placed my hands on the amp’s outer casing. Smooth like glass; grill like a surface covered in cool water. I let out an audible gasp.

“What is it?” Asked Randall inquisitively.

“This is going to sound nuts,” I began, “But I think this is some kind of weapon. I dreamed about it.” There was a moment of mutual silence. I could tell each person was trying very hard to deliver a reply. Elvis was the first to speak.

“Weapon? Against what? Old folks?” He didn’t seem convinced.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I had a dream last night, and this amp was in it.” Randall soon joined the conversation.

“Let’s just back up a bit,” He took a deep breath and continued, “First, do any of you find it strange that not only are we the only survivors from that damn bus, but that we’re all musicians? I mean, that crazy shit that went down last night brought us al together. Maybe there’s a reason for it that we don’t completely understand.”

“What’s to understand?” Elvis replied sharply, “Survival’s the name of the game now. We gotta start thinkin’ about what we’re gonna do for food and water and shit. I’ll be down with startin’ up a band with y’all right after we answer the important questions!” From here, the conversation deteriorated into a series of rhetorical questions and smug comebacks. A long, terrifyingly close scream ended the argument, however. Sweat coated my forehead as I began to notice a small, fiery blob taking shape in my field of vision.

Episode 2.5: "The God Amp"

Every impulse in my body was telling me not to sit on this nasty bathroom floor, but I could already feel my legs stiffen and ache as they struggled to support my exhausted frame. I moved my back against the wall and slid down to the floor, making sure my hands came nowhere near it. I felt Maxine sit down next to me. Her perfume mixed with a slight hint of perspiration, providing me with a much-needed reprieve from the noxious fecal stench that dominated the small room. Randall sat down across from me, his back to the door. I heard the click-clack of a deadbolt sliding into place.

“G’night everyone,” he said quietly, “If you can call it that.” I was positive that I wouldn’t be able to sleep, considering the madness that we had just experienced. Not to mention the fact that I was sitting upright in a restroom that was long overdue for a cleaning. All the same, I felt myself nod off. It had been a long, bizarre day, and that tends to take it out of a person.

My slumber was plagued by strange dreams, the most vivid of which found me in the middle of a vacant interstate somewhere in the desert. I could feel the hot sun beating down on my exposed neck and arms while I walked the length of this uninhabited freeway. Soon, I could feel a brief respite from the scorching sun, as if a cloud was passing by. I tripped on something hard, and bent down to examine it. It was the size and shape of a guitar amp, but something was strange about it. The outer casing was smooth like glass, and my fingers slid across the grill as if it was a surface covered with cool water.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stood up to greet the hand’s owner, but there was no one there.

“Hello?” I called, hoping for a reply. I waited for what seemed like several hours until I heard the unmistakable strumming of an acoustic guitar. The sound eventually took the form of an achingly familiar voice.

“Welcome to the fifth dimension,” said the voice quietly, “You’ve been brought here to gain important knowledge that will help you in the days and months to come.”

“What knowledge?” I asked. My voice felt thick and dissonant, and it disrupted the natural harmonies that I could hear blending around me.

“The object at your feet is a weapon.” Where had I heard this voice? It was right there at the tip of my memory, but I couldn’t recall the name.

“What exactly is this weapon?” Again, my voice sounded harsh and grating.

“It is called the God Amp. With it, your music becomes weaponry. When the time comes to use it, you must not hesitate,” I detected a change in the background music, “I must go soon. Do you have any other questions?”

“Yeah,” I blurted. For some reason, questions like “So what is this God Amp?” and “Enemy? What enemy?” were pushed to the background.

“Who are you?” There was a pause, as if the voice was debating whether or not to provide an answer.

“I have inhabited many forms and taken many shapes. I travel through the strum of the electric guitar, and through the deep throbbing beat of the bass drum. I am your only hope.”

Episode 2.4: "Introductions"

There’s something about puking in front of people that makes you feel somehow ashamed…like you don’t want others to see what food looks like after it's been in your particular stomach. I decided to take the initiative and break the awkward silence that had settled in our smelly bathroom sanctuary.

“What exactly happened on the bus?”

“Shee-yit! You didn’t see it?” the twangy voice replied.

“Well, no.” I pointed to my sunglasses.

“Why you wearin’ shades? You can’t see shit wearin’ those when it’s dark out.”

“He’s blind, dumbass.” The black dude replied.

“Oh, damn! Apologies, man. Given the pure, pants-pissing terror of the evening, I’d say bein’ blind is an advantage, if it’s any consolation.” Twangy-Voice sounded skinny and lean, like some kind of wild dog.

“After…I didn’t get your name?” The woman had begun speaking, addressing the black dude.

“Name’s Randall.” He replied.

“After Randall took the wheel and stopped the bus, there was something waiting out there in the dark for us. All I could see where chains made of razor wire slicing people in half when I saw you two take off.” Her syllables came out in short bursts, like a semi-automatic weapon. I pictured her with short hair and pursed lips.

“You told us to run, man,” Randall said to me, his voice painting me a mental picture of a soldier or a cop, “How’d you know something was coming if you can’t see anything?” This was a question that I was still trying to answer myself.

“I dunno," For some reason, I felt compelled to lie about what I 'saw,' "I just…I thought I heard something from that direction and didn’t want to find out what it was.”

“Well, it may have saved our lives, so I guess we should be thankin’ you. What’s your name?”

“Ed. Ed Devlin. I’m traveling to Boston from Toomsboro, Georgia.” I reached out my hand, which Randall enveloped in his. The dude must be huge.

“I guess after sharing a near-death experience, introductions are appropriate.” The woman replied, “I’m Maxine Gunn. I’ve been living in Baton Rouge. What’s your deal, truckstop?” I assumed she was talking to the dude with the twangy voice.

“Name’s Elvis Wickham. Came out from Dodge City, Kansas, and this has been the absolute weirdest day of my entire life.” I heard the sound of water running and quick, slurping gulps as Elvis drank deeply from the faucet. I hoped it wasn’t the one that I puked in.

“How about you Randall?” Maxine asked.

“Yeah, Randall Cobb. I’m from Morristown, New Jersey.”

“Well,” Elvis began as he sat down on the floor, “Now that we know each other’s names and have nearly been flayed alive by sadomasochists, I guess we’re ready enough to spend the night in a filthy bathroom together.” We all murmured some form of agreement.

Episode 2.3 "Bathroom of Solace"

“Something…something’s coming,” I muttered and pointed in the direction of these three shapes that I could see for some completely unknown reason, “We’ve got to get out of here.” At this point, the shapes broke into a full sprint, and the screaming started up again. I heard the sound of a jagged knife cutting through steak (not chains ripping through what was left of the passengers), the man next to me grabbed my shoulders and yelled, “Move!” once more.

We ran for what seemed like hours. My legs didn’t want to cooperate, and my lungs burned. I kept looking back towards our bus and felt somewhat relieved that the blazing forms had subsided, leaving me to my familiar blank vision.

“Quick! Let’s duck in here!” I heard a panicked woman gasp. A door hinge squeaked open, and I was taken inside with the rest of the survivors. The thick smell of stale air freshener mingled with human waste led me to believe that we had just ducked into a rest stop bathroom that was in dire need of some maintenance. The stench nearly caused me to gag, but on the plus side, I wasn’t getting sliced in half by razor wire.

“I bet some weird shit has gone down in here!” Another voice, nasal and twangy, echoed out against the restroom walls.

“Did you guys see those…things? What the hell were they?” This was the woman again, speaking in a slightly more calm tone of voice that revealed a subtle Southern drawl, “Oh shit! And what about those people’s heads popping like zits! I’ve never seen so much blood!” Her description confirmed the grim suspicion that was gnawing at me. Instinctively, I ran to the sink and turned on the cold water so I could rinse what I now knew to be blood off of my face. My heart felt like it was trying to break out of my chest and I was having trouble breathing. What in the hell was going on? Exploding heads? Fiery creatures wrapped in razor wire? And I swear this must be the filthiest rest stop in the state.

“You doin’ okay, Shades?” The Southern woman spoke, “You’re lookin’ greenish.” I placed my hands on the edge of the sink and breathed in a cloud of toilet smell. I thought the oxygen would help clear my head, but it didn’t. It made me barf. I did my best to guess where the sink was, but I heard some of it splatter on the ground at my feet. Amid surprised shouts of disgust, the woman grabbed my shoulders.

“Oh, dude! Here, let’s have you sit down for a bit. Come on. It’s okay.” She led me to a bench that must have been bolted to the wall. I was grateful for this puzzling addition to the rest room. The guy who yanked me off the bus didn’t seem to be fazed by my sudden surge of puke. He was talking quietly to himself, working out the events that had just transpired.

“They looked like people, but they moved way too fast…and the chains…they were almost like…a part of their body?” I couldn’t tell for sure, but he sounded black. Based on the voices and breathing that I could hear inside the slightly cramped bathroom, I guessed that there were only four of us, including me. I felt dumb for puking all over the place. Now we had that awesome smell to deal with. In order to occupy my mind, I thought about my dad. I hope he’s okay.