"This is Not a Test. "
It was the day that changed everything and it started out like any other day. Quiet. The kind of quiet that would drive some people insane. But that mind numbing quiet is the reason I moved here a year ago. I was in severe need of peace, shutting out the world and all its ugliness. And I thought I had done it. There are four houses on my road, that is if you can call it a road. Its more of a deadend dirt and gravel path that leads into a forest of hardwoods. The homes in this neighborhood are set back beyond the dusty road, into the trees. Two of my neighbors I never see or hear, other than the occasional vehicle coming and going. And then's there's the last house, the green house at the end of the road. Its the kind of house that does not need a 'No Trespassing' sign. The yelling, the sounds of gunfire, motors revving, its enough to keep most people from being curious and wanting to take a closer look. Now the house was far enough away that the noise did not really bother me. It was more of a white noise kind of effect. Once in a while I could actually make out some words. Angry sounds like 'What were you thinking you dumbass,' or 'You need to listen to me, you never listen!' I had grown up with enough yelling and had learned long ago to tune it out. I didn't see my end of the road neighbors very much with the exception a dusty gray old pickup truck blasting up and down the road. And then it was hard to see what they looked like through the dirt covered windows.
I did not give them much thought.
And then today happened and things were quiet back there. No yelling, no gunfire. In fact, for the past few days, I had not seen any of my other neighbors coming and going either.
OK a little disturbing.
I'm a fine artist that only goes into town once a month for supplies and to run errands. I have a TV, computer, cell phone, but seldom turn them on. There's a reason for this. One that I'm not ready to share just yet, but its better for me to live in my little make believe world under the tall oaks, going for walks, reading classic books, working on my paintings.
I stood there looking at my cell phone, picked it up and turned it on. No signal. It didn't surprise me as when I would get a signal, it would be very weak. I looked over in the corner of the living room at the TV, walked over to it and pushed the power button. After a few moments of playing with the rabbit ears the snow on the screen was forming into something. Vertical colored bars reaching from the top of the screen two thirds down connecting with two rows of horizontal colored bars. The Emergency Broadcast signal.
I was now officially scared.
Radio. My mind was racing. Radio, did I even have a radio? Computer! I scrambled across the room to my desk, opened the laptop and turned it on. One by one the little icons appeared on the screen, I doubled clicked on the browser and a white blank window appeared. Nothing. Looking at the lower right part of the screen I saw the red X over the signal strength meter. No signal. Running out the porch I saw the satellite dish for my internet was still there, pointing at the sky. No monster branch had fallen on it, it had not moved. So it should be picking up a signal.
I was now beyond frightened yet strangely my mind became calm. The survival instinct that had saved my life a year ago, shifted into gear. If phones and internet were down, maybe power would be next. I began to find every bottle I had in the house, rinsing them and filling them with water. Nine two liter and six 16 ounce bottles sat politely lined up on the counter. I then remembered an article I had read about survival and went into the bathroom. Putting the plug into the tub, I turned on the water and let it run. Batteries how many did I have? In the junk drawer of the kitchen I found a full eight pack of D cells and and seven doubles A's.
I had just gone to town three days ago, so I had plenty of food, a full tank of gas in my old Subaru Brat, and a total of seven boxes of ammo for my 357.
After the tub was filled, I went onto the back porch. It was probably just an outage, I had food, water, ammo. Look out over the beautiful woods. No, it wasn't working. Something had happened. Something bad. Real bad. I could feel it. Life had changed and my stubbornness had prevented me from knowing about it.
I couldn't just sit there. I had to find out. There had to be a way. I loaded the 357, checked the safety, and walked out the front door and headed down the winding dirt driveway out to the road. Nobody. Nothing moving. The normally peaceful view now scared the hell out of me. It was all wrong. I lived at the second house on the road and decided to head over to the next house down. After a few minutes I saw the white pea gravel trail on the other side of the road and headed down one of the two tire tracks. In less than a minute I could see the neat two story very regal Colonial style home nestled into the trees. A equally regal three car garage sat next to the house. The garage doors were closed as were the doors and windows of the house. Nice, clean, domestic looking, yet, I didn't want to approach it, preferring to stay in the safety of the trees. Backing away I fought the need to run. This was silly. I was a grown woman and this was just like every other day! I was scaring myself needlessly.
But I knew I wasn't.
Standing in the noon sunshine, I headed in the direction of the end of the road. A two tire track dirt path began where the road ended. I began to walk down the weedy path when I realized what it was that was different!
No birds. There was no sound. No birds flying or squirrels scurrying. The constant buzz of the cicada bugs- gone.
I looked up and saw a small ranch house through the trees and walked towards it. It was one of those houses you see so many of, seemingly abandoned, tall bent weeds where lawn once grew, peeling paint. That's when I saw the shed in back. Something sparkling in the darkness, just past the one door that stood open. Maybe it was the brilliant sunlight streaming down through the trees, lulling me into a trance, dulling my senses. But I did not hear the person walking up behind me, until he spoke.
"What the hell are you doing here?" It was not a question. It was a demand every bit as frightening as the bark of a big dog. His tone demanded that I leave immediately. I turned around. He stood about 5'10", medium build, brown shaggy hair hanging over his eyes. Worn out short sleeved pocket tee shirt, jeans even more worn out than the shirt.
"This is private property and you need to go. Now, " he growled. He looked like he wanted to take a step towards me when I noticed where he was looking. His gaze was on my gun.
"You know how to use that thing?" The laughing voice came from behind me startling me so bad I thought my heart would stop. I was nervous that if I turned around to look, the shaggy guy in front of me would make a move. So I stepped over to the side. My gun remained at my side. I had not lifted it. After a few steps over I could see them both.
The new guy, Mr Sneak Up Behind Me, was clearly older than Shaggy. His hair was very short, almost shaved to the skull. He had a massive, study build, stained white tank top, work pants. He was smiling but his eyes had that hard look of a predator. No fear. If he made a move towards me and I did not get off a head shot, chances are, it would take a number of rounds to bring him down. He had matching blue eyes to the other guy. Brothers?
I needed to lighten things up. I mean comon, this was Rock Creek, Georgia, not Dodge City. And I was a girl. Well, a girl with a gun but still a small framed petite woman.
"I'm your neighbor from the down the road," I chirped.
" Yah, I know, the hippie artist," replied Mr Smiling Predator.
I wasn't even going to ask how he knew I was an artist. It wasn't like I had hung out a sign saying " Lee Pardo- Artist at large.' This guy or his pal had been sneaking around, checking things out. Normally I would have been creeped out but not today. Today I needed a friend. Any friend. I needed information and maybe these guys had some.
" Do you have a working TV or radio?" I asked. Two sets of blazing blue eyes looked at me like I speaking Chinese. "Look my TV is on the Emergency Broadcast system. I don't have a radio, something is going on and I need to find out what it is! "
Mr Smiles wasn't smiling anymore. "Doesn't your car have a radio?" His eyes narrowed.
I looked right at him. "Does your truck have one?"
The smile was back. "Yeah I suppose it does." Then smile faded. "What'd you gimme to find out?"
It was at that point that my Yankee impatience broke through. "Nothing! I'm giving you nothing! I'm just trying to find out what the hell is going on. I woke up this morning, just like any other morning and you lunatics weren't screaming and shooting or raising some kind of redneck racket, so I knew something was wrong. AND I was right, no TV signal, no internet, no nothing and you KNOW something about it!"
Mr Smiles broke into a laughing fit. " Daryl, I like this one! She's got fire. Artist, you're OK." He started walking towards the dusty gray pickup. "Let's find out what's up."
Daryl, formerly Shaggy, walked towards us. " I was out hunting early this morning and didn't see anything. No birds, no deer, no squirrels. So I came back to the house and turned on the TV and all I got was that emergency screen. It was on all the channels. Merle was hungover but I woke him up anyway. Then we saw you headed down the driveway. "
Merle, formerly Mr Smiles, had turned on the ignition key and was pushing the buttons of the stereo. It was then my heart stopped. It was a sound that I had heard many times and had never given a second thought to. But today, this morning, in front of that green house at the end of the road, standing here with these two men, it was the most frightening thing I had ever heard. The shrill tones of the Emergency Broadcast Signal rang out through the oaks. " This is not a test..."