Everyday Apocalypse: Season One

by Pieter Lars

  “I think so.”

  Phillips nodded. “Good. Good.”

  “What should we do about his clothes?” Sam asked. She was holding the vest up with a pen.

  Phillips sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “They smell like patchouli and feet. Put them in a box or something. We can mail them to his home address.”

  Phillips left and Sam took the clothes away. Tom sat back at his desk, watching the clouds outside his window and tried to ignore the way the cap made his scalp itch.

  10

  Chemtrails

  This week he really was sick, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the chemtrails. He was laid up on the couch, eating ramen and drinking Gatorade. The TV was showing a Western Film marathon and in between naps Tom watched Clint Eastwood or Randolph Scott shoot bandits and rescue maidens.

  A jet engine sounded from outside. He reached over to peer through the blinds just in time to see a high-flying plane let loose a white stream of vapor. It hung in the sky as it passed overhead.

  Depending on what news channel you watched, the vapor trails contained mind-controlling chemical compounds, weather-modifying biological agents, solar radiation management, or any combination of the above.

  Tobias probably had a half dozen theories, but he hadn’t been back to the office since his abduction. His check had cleared, which was Mr. Phillips’ only concern.

  Tom couldn’t care less what the chemtrails were for, he just wanted to sleep without a bucket by his head. Maybe they were a government conspiracy, but if they were he hoped they would soften the next few apocalypses. The vampires and sentient delivery drones had been exhausting.

  Phillips hadn’t been happy when Tom called in sick, and made it clear that Tom would have to make up his missing sales when he returned.

  “Grossman’s already got ten on the board, and it’s only the 4th of the month, Tom,” Phillips had said.

  Samantha had promised to bring him more soup that afternoon as long as the chemtrails didn’t cause any unsightly boils.

  She got off work at five, and the place was a mess, so Tom groaned to his feet and took his puke bucket to the kitchen sink. While he was washing it out a chime sounded from his phone.

  It was the NEA update. The text message read:

  THE WEEKLY FORECAST HAS BEEN POSTED. PLEASE SEE OUR WEBSITE FOR UPDATES

  He shuffled over to his computer and pulled up the forecast page.

  February promises to be a mild month. A light Locust Plague is expected to begin on Monday, with Wednesday seeing the most swarming, but it should start to clear up by Friday as long as the bats remain active. Residents are advised to avoid major thoroughfares. Those without all-wheel drive cars should consider using tire chains, as roads are expected to be slick.

  The following week will bring a Frog and/or Blood Rain, but Water Resources engineers have determined that the Salt River should not flood, so expect clear streets. In the event of a Blood Rain, however, residents are advised to keep their gutters clean and free of debris. This is especially important following a Frog Rain, as decaying amphibians can easily clog your downspouts.

  Future forecasts are unclear, but show signs of Cosmic Horror activity and/or Shark-infested tornados. Please report any suspicious internet activity, either at home or at work, to the proper authorities. The cause of last month’s A.I. attack remains a mystery, but our computer scientists are urging residents to be polite to any package delivery drones, even if they have an incorrect shipping address.

  Further updates will be posted shortly.

  Be advised, our customer service department is well-stocked with food and water and will remain open during regular business hours. Contact information can be found below.

  Tom sat there, thinking about how messy the next couple of weeks were going to be. Grossman was probably reading the forecast and already formulating a sales strategy. Tom’s only idea was to try and sell more flood insurance, just in case Water Resources was wrong.

  He needed a different job. Sales just wasn’t his thing. If Samantha didn’t work there he probably would have quit a year ago.

  He sighed and stood and started picking up his dirty socks, tissues, and all the other detritus he had left around his living room over the last couple days. He probably wouldn’t be able to kiss Samantha, as sick as he was, but he was really looking forward to sitting next to her.

  The next couple weeks didn’t sound so bad, now that he thought about it. At least he had a job, right? Could you imagine being a street-sweeper during a Frog Rain? Or working at the water-treatment plant during the Blood Rain?

  No, thank you…

  He would stick to his nice cozy office. At least he could take off his gas mask in there. Maybe he’d even have a really good month and beat Grossman for once. Get his own plaque on the wall.

  No matter what, the future was pretty bright.

  At least until Ragnarok came, or the World Devourer, or the killer asteroids, or nuclear holocaust, or…

  11

  Locust Plague

  “You know, insects are one of the foods of the future,” Samantha said. She was chewing slowly, savoring the flavor.

  The break room toaster oven dinged. She sprang up from her chair and opened it, pulling out a tray of neatly crisped locusts. They smelled like peanuts, which only made Tom feel queasier.

  “Did you want some more?” she asked.

  He opened the bottle of ranch dressing and tried to shake out a few more drops, but it was completely empty.

  “Ummm…I think I’m full,” he said.

  “OK, but make sure you take those NEA vitamin pills. The bugs are tasty, but they’re basically just protein. I don’t want you getting scurvy.”

  “Can you get scurvy after four days?” he asked. He’d basically been eating nothing but toasted locusts for the past few days, mostly to please Samantha. She had watched a TEDx talk about the future of human cuisine. Apparently insects were set to replace beef and poultry one day as mankind’s most efficient protein source.

  She was really excited about training her palate.

  “Normal people who eat fruits and vegetables can’t, no,” Samantha replied. “But when was the last time you had an orange? And I mean before the locusts came and ate all the crops.”

  He wasn’t sure, so instead of answering he just popped another locust in his mouth and tried to ignore the way the thorax popped between his teeth.

  The locust plague had been going on for the last four days. They were more nuisance than anything, and hadn’t affected Tom as much as last month’s vampires or the alien abductions. The locusts mostly just darkened the sky and made a horrendous buzzing noise that made everything sound like you were holding your head inside a microwave.

  People had been complaining about having trouble finding fruits and veggies in the stores, but Tom mostly shopped in the freezer section.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true. He mostly shopped in the frozen burrito section. Some of them even had little bits of veggie in them.

  Yes, this week’s package included a bottle of Vitamin C pills, but Tom’s were in his medicine cabinet behind the cotton swabs and hydrogen peroxide. The package had also contained a paintball mask and little pamphlet with instructions on how to fry and eat the bugs, should one so desire.

  Grossman came into the break room, bringing with him the smell of stale cigarettes and bourbon. He was salesman of the month, again, but you would never know it by looking at him. He dressed like a washed-up guidance counselor and didn’t seem to own a single tie without a stain.

  “You two are so cute,” he said. “Is this your idea of taking a girl to dinner, Tom? Your commissions can’t be that bad, can they?” He laughed to himself and started digging through the communal fridge. He re-emerged with a frown on his face. “Geez, you two seriously are just eating bugs this week, aren’t you? There’s not a single thing in here for me to steal!”

  He left with a huff. Tom and Samantha rolled their eye
s at each other.

  “Hey, this is just smart living,” Samantha said. “It’s not every week that free food falls from the sky. I say we enjoy it.”

  Tom smiled, but he felt a bit guilty. It had been a couple of weeks since he had taken Samantha on a real date. They saw each other every day at work, which was great, but it was too easy to fall into a routine.

  He needed to spice it up a bit.

  “Hey, what do you say we go for a little drive after work? Maybe up to the overlook? We can watch the sunset. It might be cool with all the bugs in the air.”

  Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Drive around in the locust swarm? You’ll wreck your Subaru in like five minutes.” She got up from the table. “Come on, it’s time to get back.”

  He stood and followed her out of the break room.

  “I expect a better date idea from you by close of business. Got it?” She slapped him on the butt. “Good luck in there, Tom. I’ll try and send you the next few calls.”

  She went back to reception and Tom went back to his office. He had four hours to come up with a good date.

  Why had he even opened his mouth?

  After arming the office alarm, Tom and Samantha donned their paintball masks, raised the hoods on their windbreakers and pulled the drawstrings so they were snug around their faces.

  “You ready?” Tom asked. His voice was muffled through the mask’s plastic.

  Samantha nodded.

  He opened the door and they stepped out into the plague.

  They were immediately hit by the swarm. A hundred bugs flying into them and bouncing off their chests, arms, and the faceplates of their masks.

  They hunched down and made their way to the bus stop. It arrived a moment later. The city buses had been retrofitted with huge snowplows and wrapped in electrified chicken wire. There were big loudspeakers bolted to the front, above the windshield. As the bus slowed at the curb and hissed to a stop, it displaced a two-foot tall pile of dead locusts which spilled over the gutter and onto the sidewalk.

  A portion of the bug-cloud landed on the pile and started to devour their dead brethren. As the bus doors opened some of them lifted in the air and attempted to land on the bus, only to be zapped by the chicken wire and fall dead.

  Tom and Samantha hurried through the door and it shut immediately behind them.

  “Where to?” the driver asked. He was a stodgy old man with thick sideburns, sipping from a coffee furnace.

  Samantha looked at Tom expectantly.

  “Um, are you going downtown?” Tom asked the driver. “We need to get to the corner of First and Lincoln.”

  The bus driver swallowed his coffee and nodded. “Yep. I can do that. It’s on my route anyway.”

  “Thanks!” Samantha said with a smile.

  “My pleasure, ma’am,” the driver said with a wink.

  The bus started up with a grow. Samantha and Tom made their way to the back. All the other riders were wearing variations of the same mask. Tom thought about that time, back in high school, when he had been really into paintball. He sort of wished there wasn’t a locust swarm outside, and that everyone was really gearing up to do battle.Wouldn’t that be amazing? A city-wide paintball match?

  “Tom,” Samantha said, elbowing him in the ribs. “Where are we going?”

  “Can’t tell you,” he replied. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Ooh! I love surprises. You’re the best.” She leaned over and tapped the side of her mask against his, in a makeshift gesture of affection.

  A high-pitched whine started from the front of the bus as the loudspeakers turned on. The swarm out the side windows was so thick Tom couldn’t even see the sidewalk, but the road ahead of the bus started opening up as the sound grew louder. Whatever frequency the speakers were playing had the effect of clearing their path and Tom watched the insect cloud part as the bus gained speed.

  Twenty minutes later they stopped and the driver called out: “First and Lincoln, for the lovely couple in the back.”

  Sam squeezed Tom’s leg and they stood and exited the bus. The sound from the loudspeaker made his ears itch, but it helped keep the sidewalk clear. He squinted around, trying to find a sign he could read, and then he saw it: The Hot Cauldron.

  “This way,” he said, grabbing Samantha’s arm. They made their way down the block until they came to the door and Tom pushed it open. A big fan in the doorway was keeping the locusts from getting inside and when the door closed behind them it turned off.

  They removed their masks.

  “Hi,” a voice chirped. There was a bright-eyed girl standing behind a little podium. She had blue eyes and pigtails and her face suggested that today was the best day she’d ever had. “Welcome to the Hot Cauldron! Table for two?”

  “Yes, please,” Tom replied. He looked nervously at Samantha. She had a curious expression on her face, but didn’t look displeased.

  The hostess sat them in the back and handed them each a menu. It read:

  The Hot Cauldron. Phoenix's premier fondue restaurant. Ask your server for the daily cheese special!

  Samantha gasped. Tom looked up to see her grinning.

  “Tom, you remembered! I’ve been wanting to try this place!” She reached over and squeezed his hand.

  The server came and Tom ordered the daily special, which promised three different cheeses, two chocolates, a mixed-berry pot, and a bottle of white wine. They were very apologetic about not having any salad available, but promised what they did have would be delicious.

  As the server brought the first course Samantha sat in her seat, shimmying her shoulders. She already had a fondue fork in each hand.

  Tom realized the server hadn’t asked what they wanted to dip in the pots, other than bread, but when she brought the next tray out he realized why. It was a basket full to the brim with toasted locusts.

  Samantha started spearing them, two at a time, and dipping them into the cheese.

  “Oh. My. God. This is so good!” she said. “You’re the best boyfriend.” A foreleg was stuck to her lip and Tom reached over to pluck it off.

  He smiled at her and forked his own locust. Might as well make the best of it. Maybe they’d be good with cheese. If not, there was always the chocolate course.

  12

  Frog Rain

  Tom didn’t know if the Frog Rain would have come anyway, but all the dead insects from the week before had sure provided them with plenty of food.

  He hadn’t slept a wink all night until, finally, he’d turned his television to a dead channel and let the white noise fill his room. It was just enough to drown out the incessant croaking outside.

  Of course, once the morning commute started and all the cars and trucks started crushing the poor little amphibians by the score, the crows and carrion birds had come, filling the air with a new cacophony.

  Thankfully, his Subaru had all-wheel drive. He only hydroplaned once (did you still call it hydroplaning when your tires were slipping on smooshed frogs?) and managed to make it to the office with only a handful of dead frogs caught under his windshield wipers. He tried picking them up with a handful of fast food napkins he found in his glove box, but as soon as he was done another dozen fell from the sky.

  One of the frogs struck him on the shoulder, bounced off onto the parking block, and hopped away with an irritated chirp.

  He had to gently nudge a couple others that were sitting outside the office door until they hopped away.

  The phones in the office were going crazy. Samantha sat at her desk, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, I’m sorry ma’am, your homeowner’s policy doesn’t cover the replacement of your sewer line. I can connect you to the claims department if you have any other questions.” She paused, listened. “I don’t know how the frogs would have gotten in there. That would be a question for a plumber. If you hold I can refer you to one of our partners.”

  She pulled the phone away from her head and looked up at Tom. “Dang lady just hung up on me!”


  “Sorry, babe,” Tom replied. “Any messages for me?”

  “No, but the sales queue has been pretty busy. Grossman’s been taking most of the calls. Guess the NEA forecast said there might be flooding next week, so everyone’s trying to update their policies. How was your drive?”

  “Not bad, but the roads are crazy. It’s going to smell so bad later.”

  “I know! Those poor little creatures. I’m trying to collect some so that we can drive them to the river later.” Samantha pulled a cardboard banker’s box out from under her desk. She lifted the lid. A dozen different frogs and toads were sitting on some shredded newspaper. They looked up at Tom and a few of them flicked their tongues out.

  “Look at that one. It’s so pretty!” She pointed to a yellow one with black spots all over it, like little Rorschach inkblots. “I think it might be poisonous though, so don’t touch it. Phillips found it by his computer mouse and after he flicked it off, his hand started to swell.

  “Oh, great. Not only are they in the building, but their poisonous too?” Tom sighed. What he wouldn’t give for one normal week.

  “Not all of them are poisonous. If you find any in your office let me know, or just put them in the box. Do you mind going with me after work? I want to release them back into the wild.”

  He scratched the back of his head. “No, that’s fine. Did the NEA send any boxes this week? I didn’t have one on my doorstep, but mine keep coming late.”

  “Well, hopefully your neighbors didn’t steal it. They sent some really nice galoshes, and a little booklet showing which species are endangered and which ones aren’t. I guess they want people to collect the endangered ones, but I can’t discriminate, so I’m just collecting whatever I can.”