Los Angeles is Spanish for "the angels". The city's original name was never more appropriate than it was in the weeks that followed.
The last news reports that came in from abroad were frenzied nonsense about extraterrestrials or angels, demons and djinn. Through the lone channel coming down from the safe zone in Massachusetts they were able to see clips of bizarre video footage featuring strange beings, some dressed in light-sucking armor and some engulfed in flame that didn't burn them. Then there were no more broadcasts.
The world had officially reached Zero Hour.
Across the globe, Titan creatures began to claw and storm their way up from the abyss where they had been locked for centuries, since the time when Biblical giants roamed, and humans were a primordial subspecies. The legends did some of the creatures justice. Others, no primitive words could have described. They prowled into the abandoned cities of man, claiming and destroying whatever they encountered.
L.A. was in the most peril from the creature that birthed the Purple Tide. It was an eldritch thing, an ancient aquatic sea beast that surfaced with great tidal waves and an enormous appetite. It headed for Japan, but the waves it made and the offspring it had spawned came down on the coast so fast, many weren't even aware of the danger until the first wave hit.
The few people who dared to live near the beach saw it first: The way the tide sucked out and suddenly came roaring back in a towering wall. By then it was too late. The gigantic wave crashed inland, taking trees and cars with it. It blasted the beach-side homes and ripped several from their foundations only to crush them into other buildings further inland. Siding pulled apart like matchsticks in the murky, rushing water. Anything living was swept up along with everything else.
The wave made it several feet into the streets before pulling back out again. By then the warning siren system in New Salem was sounding, but there wasn't much anyone could do. Those outside of the settlement tried to flee for the hills. Those within looked to Michael. They came clamoring to the hotel, the majority of the adults in the settlement. They were panicked, needing reassurance and a plan.
It was intense to be put on the spot like that. Standing out on the broad porch of the hotel, Michael felt sick with so many eyes on him expecting miracles. He didn't know what to do any better than the rest of them. The best he had was the stuff Father Jeremiah had taught him, so he fell back on that. Rather than waste time trying to reassure the crowd, he took action.
"Father!" he intoned over the mob and the rushing sound of water in the distance. He lifted his hands above his head for effect, arms stiffly angled up to the black skies. "My Father! Your children and devoted disciples need you! Protect what is yours, our Dark Lord!"
The rushing sound of water was deafening by then; there was no more time. The tsunami was on them, coming down on the city so massively, it covered the horizon. Many people cowered and held each other, sobbing and screaming in terror. A couple of individuals lost their nerve entirely and ran in blind panic. Michael shut his eyes and kept his arms raised while he waited to be washed away.
Seconds slid by and the deafening roar of water continued. There was a great deal of icy wind that yanked at his overcoat and cut right through his thin silk shirt. Michael opened his eyes and looked around. The wind had cleared the fog, allowing a perfect view of debris-cluttered water rushing around and over the walled-in area Michael and his followers had settled. It was like their fences were a barrier against the wrath of the sea.
It was an awe-inspiring sight. Above and all around them, dark water rushed, carrying dead animals and detritus by too fast to identify. Then, as viciously as it had swept in, the wave rushed back out. People began a ragged cheer, but Michael urged them to silence.
"It's not over," he told them. "We should all stay together until the storm has passed."
"How long will that be?" someone asked from the assembled crowd. He wasn't being belligerent; he genuinely believed Michael had special knowledge of such things. And why wouldn't he, after what he had just personally witnessed?
Michael glanced over at Father Jeremiah and Pietre, who were both ready to do whatever he asked of them. "We'll know when it's over," he said, putting his attention back on the crowd. "There will be a sign. We'll have a community meal for supper tonight. Here, in the street," he decided. "Go home and prepare whatever you like best and bring it. Tell everyone. I want everyone in New Salem here tonight, for our tidal Passover."
—
The tidal assault against the west coast continued. The storm of tsunamis lasted for several long minutes before the water finally washed out and didn't come back. The worst was far from over, however. The sky had gone black with fierce storm clouds. Chain lightning jumped from cloud to cloud in brilliant bursts. High above, illuminated by the lightning, the sky was filled with moving bodies. No single entity looked the same, but they were all of a similar origin. They were the djinn, the angels, the celestials.
The war in Heaven was met. The sounds from above were bizarre: Beyond human ken or description. The beings themselves ranged from terrifyingly monstrous to unearthly beauty, though neither was indicative of which side they served. Despite Michael's desire to keep everyone centrally located, many of his followers fled for their new homes in fear after just a glimpse of the creatures through the turbulent clouds. They didn't want the potent entities to know they were there for fear of attracting their wrath.
Late that night, the stars began to fall from sky. In great balls of flame, they fell to the earth like bombs, each hit marked with a brilliant explosion that shook the ground. Seven fell outside the walls of New Salem. Those with the dreaded scout duty sent stories back from the wall about seeing people emerge from at least two of the explosions, fiery individuals that looked an awful lot like the ones seen in the scrambled footage from Boston.
Those beings immediately began brawling with others that emerged from the deepest shadows to attack, armed with swords that sucked up light just like their strange, spiked armor did. When those swords of darkness met the flaming scimitars of the sky-fallen warriors, the sound was deafening and the sight of it so amazing and terrifying, none on the wall could stand to peek out at the action long before fear overcame them. Just looking at the heavenly and infernal beings was enough to terrify most mortal creatures. Witnessing them actively trying to destroy each other was more than man was meant to experience.
There finally came a time of stillness. It was a strange peace: It wasn't a relief but a sense of the world's collective breath being held, waiting for that final shoe to drop. The nations of the world were gone, wiped away by natural and supernatural forces. The last of humanity holed up in mountain bunkers and fortified settlements, spread out so far that they couldn't be sure any other area survived.
In the basement of Murder House, "The Big Rock Candy Mountain" wound down on Tate's old record player. Oblivious to the end of the world outside, he carefully lifted the needle and started to set it down again, then hesitated. On a whim, he picked up the old Victor record, turned it over, and put it back down on the turntable. He set the needle down and tipped his head to listen. Dust on the unused side rattled static through the old speaker.
Then Harry McClintock's iconic voice launched into a new song—one Tate had never heard before.
xxx
Author's Note:
If you're curious, the name of the song Tate is listening to at the end is called "The Bum Song #2". You can find it on YouTube.
Apocalypse Now is the name of a renowned Vietnam war film, directed by Francis Ford Coppola, who also directed the 1990's Bram Stoker's Dracula. It was loosely based on Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness (the quote "The horror! The horror!" comes from that novel). The film features an all-star cast, including Marlon Brando, who Tate idolizes in the first season of American Horror Story. Coppola also brought in elements of Werner Herzog's Aguirre, Wrath of God for the film.
There couldn't be a more fitting title for this episode ending.
Next episode: It's a Brave New World. Which is also the name of a famous and often-banned dystopian novel by Aldous Huxley.
Scared yet? You should be.