Chapter 5 - Street Cleaning Day
For the first few weeks, Carlos thought it was exaggeration or simple eccentricity that prompted all the townsfolk to live in perpetual fear. After months of adjusting, he's come to realize that the best course of action is in fact to turn on the radio and hide.
Several months into his stay in Night Vale, Carlos had begun to leave the radio on as background noise in the laboratory during the day. NVCR had mostly static, but every once in a while there would be a citywide announcement or even one of Cecil's weekly afternoon shows. While Cecil had an evening show on a regular 3-nights-a-week schedule, his afternoon specials would be scattered at random onto one day per week and usually focused more singularly on current events. It was one such afternoon, and Carlos was taking a peek through Andrea's microscope at a bacterial sample she had carefully preserved from the dead armadillos that had rained from the Glow Cloud. There was a strange quiet in the lab that had been steadily growing louder every day. Carlos knew why and refused to acknowledge the apathetic expressions on his team's faces and their lack of interest in the running studies. He also refused to acknowledge the empty chair where Jake had sat the previous week. Showing up late was becoming routine with the team, but now one of them had decided to not show up at all.
"Please remain calm," Cecil's flowing voice commanded through the radio on Carlos's desk. The scientist looked up from the microscope to listen to the announcement. Cecil was rambling on about street cleaning in a voice that sounded legitimately afraid. "Street Cleaners focus on heat and movement, and so the best strategy is to be dead already." Carlos glanced around at the long rows of safety glasses looking up at him expectantly. He had personally selected all fifteen scientists on his team from the brightest and best he had known in grad school, and a few specialists that had come highly recommended by the National Science Institute. In the seven months that had passed since they had arrived in Night Vale, the team had become a dysfunctional family of sorts. After their first miserable week during which the confusing and potentially dangerous nature of their new job had become fully apparent, Carlos had offered anyone who wanted to return home the opportunity to leave without any judgment or mark on their résumés. To each scientist's credit, not a single one accepted the offer. Since then they had learned to look out for each other in the strange nonsensical town, while doing what research they could under Carlos's careful guidance. He led the team to the best of his ability, and to his pride, he hadn't lost a single scientist yet which seemed impressive given the town's outrageously high death rate. He wasn't about to let whatever cleaned the streets of Night Vale tarnish his record.
"Arnst, try to get ahold of Jake. Make sure he's just at home." Carlos commanded. Arnst, a slightly balding chemist in his early forties nodded and pulled out his cell phone. Carlos counted heads like a middle school teacher on a field trip, coming up one short. Bethenny, a brilliant geologist and one of the youngest on the team, still hadn't returned from gathering rock samples out at the abandoned missile silo. "Can someone get in touch with Bethenny?" Carlos asked. Linda, another physicist with slightly graying hair and a timid demeanor, raised her hand. "Call her, tell her to find whatever shelter she can."
"Jake says he's in the basement of Jerry's Tacos playing a high stakes game of poker with the black angel and the city clerk," Arnst announced as he clicked shut his phone. "Says they're only playing for eternal damnation, and that we shouldn't worry for him." Carlos gave a quick nod of acknowledgment, not stopping to care about how ridiculously normal the explanation seemed by now. He still had one ear tuned to Cecil's scattered broadcast; the host was mentioning off-handedly that even the City Council had evacuated. If City Council had evacuated, Carlos decided it was time he and his team did the same.
"Alright, everybody please take careful note of where you are in your projects. Shut off any hood fans and heat lamps, place your writing utensils in the locker, and make your way to quarantine room G in an orderly fashion," Carlos ordered calmly. The lab became a buzz of activity as burners were switched off, notebooks flipped closed, and the few sticks of blackened charcoal that he had spent an entire weekend sharpening to use in place of pencils were carefully stashed in the locker cabinet he'd installed along the wall as a result of the municipal raid. Linda still hadn't seemed to get ahold of Bethenny out at the missile silo. Carlos held up the end of the line as they proceeded single file into the narrow sloping hallway that led to a labyrinth of subterranean quarantine rooms. He and his scientists used the winding tunnels of windowless rooms for storage and lockup and as temporary shelter during Night Vale's frequent and unpredictable bouts of inclement weather. They collectively agreed to not discuss what the rooms may have been used for by the previous tenants. Another careful headcount confirmed that all thirteen of his teammates were present before he shut off the lab's main breaker. The lights went out momentarily before backup lights installed in the quarantine hall flickered on. Carlos closed the sealed door to the hallway and entered the pass code lock. All his life he'd been told he erred on the side of caution, but here in Night Vale he was positive his caution was the only reason he was still even alive. The scientists huddled into a mess of lab coats in the hallway as if suddenly forgetting where to go. "Room G," Carlos reminded them. The group filed into the room, but Carlos didn't close the door just yet. The dank quarantine rooms had no source of light, and he was unwilling to cut off the dim glow from the hallway until absolutely necessary. Bethenny's name flashed across the screen as his phone rang.
"Bethenny, are you safe?" Carlos asked immediately.
"I'm in the old hangar by missile silo," Bethenny whispered urgently. "I was outside and I heard them coming, and I hid in here. But, Carlos, there's no door. They're right outside and there's nothing stopping them from coming in." She inhaled a squeaky gasp, attempting to muffle the sound with her hand.
"Bethenny, I need you to try to slow your pulse. Whatever they are, they can sense any excess heat. Focus on breathing slowly." Carlos kept his voice low and steady, knowing the last thing she needed to hear was the panic that had settled in his stomach creep into his voice as well.
"Carlos, I'm scared," she whispered shakily. Carlos buried his face briefly in one of his hands. He should have never sent her out alone. He should have known better. This was Night Vale after all, and people who went places alone rarely ever came back.
"It's going to be okay," he lied, because he never knew if anything here was ever actually okay anymore, but saying any differently would be neither helpful, nor wise at the moment. "I'm so sorry. Focus on breathing, they'll be gone soon."
"Alright," Bethenny replied, her voice hoarse and trembling. There was a sharp intake of breath, a faint squeal, and a sound Carlos couldn't place before the line went silent. He called her name several times before his phone dropped the call. Thirteen pairs of eyes peered at him expectantly from the dark quarantine room. A loud wailing noise echoed down from somewhere up above. The street cleaners were here.
Carlos swung the heavy metal door shut, plunging the room into total darkness, and slumped down against it in resignation. The small quarters were filled with the sound of rapid breathing and the flicker of pale blueish light as faces were half-lit by cell phone screens. Carlos guessed everyone was attempting to text loved ones as they so frequently had cause to do in Night Vale. It was a useless gesture since he had quickly come to the realization that messages sent outside the desert rarely, if ever, actually went through. Contact with the outside world was impossible as far as he could tell. During the first few months of his residence in town, before he gave up trying to keep in touch with his family, he had received a few responses, but they had been nothing but garbled strings of letters that made no sense. One had even been in a mixture of Egyptian hieroglyphics and ancient cuneiform. He guessed it probably had something to do with the email being from an international sender. Of course, Carlos said nothing to discourage his scientists from trying. False hope was still hope after all. Anyway, they had probably figured it out for themselves by now. They may have one-by-one gradually begun to give up on the value of science and the existence of knowable facts since arriving in Night Vale, but none of them were stupid.
His own phone vibrated in his pocket. He slipped it out and switched on the display to see a text message from Cecil. While it was true that he had kept the note with Cecil's number, he had still never actually used it. He didn't exactly want to encourage the strange man whose inexplicable adoration for him seemed to dance along - and sometimes leap brazenly across - the line between flatteringly ardent and alarmingly creepy. The scientist didn't even really want to know how Cecil had gotten his number. The text simply read 'If you aren't already dead, then I hope you're somewhere safe.' Carlos stared at the screen until he caught Andrea watching him. Flustered, he switched it off quickly and tucked it back in his pocket.
"At least you have someone who cares," she said quietly as she slid down to sit next to Carlos. "I could die down here, and not a single person outside this room would care, or even probably know." There wasn't any self-pity in her tone. Andrea had never been much for false modesty or self-pity, just pure honesty.
"I'd care," Carlos offered, nudging her shoulder.
"You're in this room," she replied, her wry smile faintly visible through the dark. Their conversation was cut short by a horrible, ear-splitting screech from above. It sounded like long claws dragging across the corrugated metal siding of the laboratory's exterior. Carlos realized with a slight shudder that that was probably exactly what it was – some hideously distorted creature with long, twisted talons that for some insane reason kept the streets of Night Vale clean. Andrea switched on the small portable radio that she had thought to snatch from Carlos's desk in their hasty evacuation. Setting the volume low, she set it on the floor between them so they could hear the updates on the situation outside. Apparently even the radio station had moved its broadcast team to a remote bunker judging by the muffled quality of Cecil's voice and the fact that he announced he was now in a bunker. Carlos didn't feel quite so unjustified; hiding in an underground holding cell didn't seem like an overreaction anymore if Night Vale natives were doing it as well. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed faintly, but the horrible screeching sound had gradually passed. The group sat quietly, listening to the weather, which that particular day seemed strangely fitting since it seemed to be about people being trapped and killed. Or maybe it was metaphorically singing about love. Carlos couldn't tell. The weather always gave him an odd feeling; some days it seemed random and unpredictable, but other days it felt eerily directed towards him. He always shook it off with a reminder that he should quit listening to Cecil's evening broadcasts when he worked late in the lab after everyone else went home. Soon enough the weather ended and Cecil's voice returned, sounding noticeably shaken, but warm and resonant as always. The radio host was announcing that the danger had passed, that it was all over. Carlos switched off the radio, not wanting to hear the rest of Cecil's celebratory soliloquy on how they all survived. Carlos didn't want to hear it when they hadn't survived, not all of them.
"Linda, try to get ahold of Bethenny again," Carlos said as he pushed himself to his feet. "Andrea," he always used her full name when addressing her in front of the other scientists, "keep everyone in here until I can confirm that the coast is clear." She grabbed his shoulder as he swung the door open and stepped out into the disorienting dim glow of the hall.
"Carlos," Andrea's voice was all seriousness, which was a notable change from her usual sarcastic drawl. "I meant what I said about Cecil." Carlos glanced past her, afraid the others would overhear their conversation. They all seemed too absorbed in hugging each other in relief and sending more useless, but probably cathartic, texts to assure loved ones that they were once again safe. "I know he's a little persistent and slightly infatuated, but he seems to genuinely care about you. Don't take that kind of concern for granted." She let go of his lab coat as he nodded. Carlos wandered out to the street, looking for any signs of change. There were no claw marks on the outside of the warehouse or pools of blood or anything at all to signify that something horrifying had passed only brief minutes ago. The street looked, in fact, very clean. Not entirely sure why, he found himself walking in the direction of Mission Grove. When he arrived at the corner of the park, he was met with a scene exactly as Cecil had described on the radio. A group of townspeople, a few hooded figures, and what appeared to be one of the Sheriff's Secret Police judging by the throwing stars strapped to his back and the cape and the leopard-camo jeggings, stood huddled in the center of the park staring up at the sky. On the fringe of the gathering was Cecil himself, white-blond hair sticking out at disheveled angles, the back of his vest and shirt rumpled and partially untucked from his cuffed jeans. The radio bunker must have been more of a crowded crawlspace. As if feeling the scientist's eyes on him, Cecil spun around suddenly. Relief washed over his angular features as he took several measured steps in Carlos's direction.
"You're alright," he breathed as he looked Carlos over quickly. "I was worried, I didn't know if you would hear the announcement. Not everybody listens to public radio you see," Cecil explained as he tucked his arms in close to himself. Carlos was always surprised at how normal Cecil sounded in person. His voice was still deep and mesmerizing, but it lacked the tone of grandiloquence. The scientist simply nodded in reply, not sure why exactly he had come to the park.
"I lost someone," he admitted after a long silence. The words shook him even as he spoke them. This was why he had come, he realized. He wanted to tell Cecil. He didn't want the radio host's comfort or pity, he just wanted him to know. "Her name was Bethenny. She applied to come to Night Vale with me as a part of her preliminary dissertation research. She wasn't even two years out of college." The words rushed unbidden. "I sent her out to the missile silo by herself to collect some rock samples. She was so scared when she called me." His breath gave out at the end of the sentence, and he dropped his gaze to a persistent patch of grass that had forced its way between two squares of the sidewalk beneath his worn-out shoes.
"It's not your fault," Cecil said quietly. Carlos looked up to see the softened expression on the man's face. "People are lost here every day. This town takes more of us than we like to recognize." It was strange to hear the honesty in Cecil's voice. Usually he brushed off the wanton death and destruction as just another morbidly interesting story to tell to the fearful masses huddled around their radio sets. Carlos didn't know exactly how to proceed, so he let the silence hang between them until he could formulate the fragile question he didn't really want to hear the answer to.
"What will I find out at the missile silo?" he asked warily. Cecil was thoughtful for a moment before dropping his gaze and pushing the frames of his glasses up on his nose with a sigh.
"It will be very clean," he replied finally. The answer shouldn't have surprised Carlos, nor should it have seemed so much more devastating than he was expecting. But it did. He shuddered slightly. Cecil continued to stare at the ground for a moment more, his strangely pale eyes glazed over and his mouth moving ever so slightly and incredibly quickly as if he were silently reciting a list to himself. Carlos was about to ask if the man was alright when his gaze flickered back up to look curiously into the scientist's face. The ghost of a smile played at Cecil's lips as he reached out and rested his palm lightly on the sleeve of Carlos's lab coat. Carlos looked down in surprise at the unbidden touch, shocked by the strange cooling sensation he felt even through his lab coat that seemed to emanate from Cecil's skin. "Just because you lose something doesn't mean you'll never find it again," he said quickly, offering a half smile. Carlos stared blankly at him, sure now more than ever that Cecil was definitely not quite normal. The man removed his hand, but the strange tingling sensation remained a few moments more. Carlos took a leery step back, mumbling something about needing to give the all clear to his team. As he turned to leave, Cecil said something so softly he almost missed it entirely. "I'm glad you're alive, Carlos. This world would be quite miserable without you." He was used to having Cecil gush like a schoolgirl about him on the radio, but he was again struck by the sudden vulnerability in the man's voice.
There was an empty silence as the scientists filed out of the quarantine room and back into the lab. As Carlos had feared, they had been entirely unable to reach Bethenny. He let everyone go home early, not even bothering to restore power to the lab. Andrea gave him a tight hug before promising to accompany him to the missile silo first thing in the morning. Carlos simply nodded numbly and locked up the door, switched off the radio - which had been playing a single sustained note for the past hour - and climbed the metal spiral staircase that led to his small upstairs apartment.
It came as no surprise to him the next morning that Linda, Joshua, and Randall didn't show up for work. After the previous day's ordeal, it seemed that the town had finally begun to take its toll on the team. They each had left him a carefully worded, falsely-cheerful message on his phone informing him that they just didn't see the point in trying to unravel root causes or decipher molecular structures when Night Vale just never made any sense. As Carlos swallowed four ibuprofen tablets with the dregs of his second cup of coffee, a steady knock came at the small front door of the laboratory. He opened the door to find Old Woman Josie beaming up at him, all wrinkles and cloying floral perfume. "Can I help you?" he offered cordially. Of all the strange people in Night Vale, Josie was one of his favorites, probably because she reminded him so much of his own grandmother back home.
"I believe you lost something," she replied, jerking her head to the side. Carlos leaned out of the doorframe to take a peek. Bethenny, her coat pristine, her dark hair in a tight bun, took a careful step forward. Without thinking, Carlos pulled her into a hug.
"We thought we lost you," Carlos said as he pulled away and looked carefully into her eyes. No pupil dilation, no obvious trauma. He reached for her wrist, counting out a steady pulse. The routine was not strictly an affirmation of life - though affirmations of life were a precious thing in a place like Night Vale. It was more the scientists' strange way of connecting, of assuring themselves and each other that even in the dangerously twisted little town everything was, for the time being, okay.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Bethenny laughed brightly. "I was out at the missile silo one minute, the next I was at Josie's house eating split pea soup and watching reruns of Bonanza," she explained.
"Erika found her all alone out there," Josie added with a disapproving look at Carlos. "You should know better than sending a pretty young thing like her out by herself."
"Josie," Bethenny chided.
"She's right, I shouldn't have let you go out there alone." Carlos gave her one more quick hug. "I'm so glad you're okay." He sighed and turned to Josie. "Thank you for taking care of her." The old woman grunted, and nodded toward some unseen visage to her left.
"Don't thank me, it was Erika who found her. I just made the soup." Carlos looked at the completely transparent patch of air that he assumed must be one of Josie's angels.
"Um. Thanks, Erika," he stuttered to the air. The action seemed to appease Josie whose face crinkled into a wide grin.
"We'll let you two be on your way to do whatever it is you scientists do," the old woman chortled.
"Bye, Josie! Bye, Erika! Thanks again!" Bethenny called as Carlos led her inside and closed the door behind her. The lab erupted in excited chatter as all at once the scientists jumped up to hug the friend they all thought was lost. As Carlos watched his unconventional little family of scientists, he couldn't help but think of Cecil's words the previous evening. 'Just because you lose something doesn't mean you'll never find it again.' The thought drifted into his mind that maybe this was what Cecil had meant, that somehow the man had known about Bethenny and the supposed angel who had come to her rescue. How could he though when he had been trapped in some underground bunker the whole time just like the rest of them? Carlos's mind wandered to the strange color of Cecil's eyes and the inexplicable sensation of his touch. With a shake of his head, he forced himself to stop thinking, choosing for the time being to ignore the shiver that raced down his spine. Today was a day to celebrate that they had, indeed, all survived to see the sun once more. Cecil was a mystery for another day entirely.
End Notes: Street Cleaning Day is one of my favorite episodes by far. Also I like writing about the scientists because I like them, even if they still won't ring the doorbell on the non-existent house.
and the similarity to another one of my stories with the checking vitals is intentional, though not necessarily important depending on how you look at it. mostly just be aware that all my wtnv stories for the most part fit together since they're all one long ibook on my computer.
Thanks so much for the feedback so far! I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story. :)