by Pieter Lars
Fine then. He’d spend the day inside. But doing what? The television didn’t work. He could read a book, but wasn’t sure he had the attention span for that.
Maybe he could find a puzzle in the closet or something.
The doorbell rang. He pulled his robe closed and went downstairs.
He opened the front door to see a strange gray-eyed man standing on his porch. The man was wearing a black coverall, with black boots and gloves. His black hair was parted perfectly to the side and his cheeks were clean-shaven.
Shoot. He’s a cat-burglar, Tom thought. The man probably thought nobody was home. Was he going to have to fight him? Did he have a weapon?
The man spoke: “Hello. Are you mister Tom Brown?” His voice had an odd inflection. Almost robotic.
Tom nodded, then thought better of it. He shook his head instead. Maybe this was a mob hit and the guy just needed to confirm his identity before putting two in the back of his head.
Or was it two in the chest? He couldn’t remember.
“Please stand still for confirmation of your identity.”
“What?” Tom said, but then the man’s body seemed to freeze. His eyes flashed from gray to red. His head tilted and red beams shone from his eyes, scanning Tom’s feet, then his legs and chest. They flashed bright as they scanned his face.
“Oh no,” Tom groaned.
The drones had evolved.
“Identity confirmed,” the man said. “Please standby to receive your delivery.”
The delivery drone’s jaw unhinged with a snap and the lower mandible slid forward. Tucked under its rubber tongue was a small envelope.
Tom reached out and as he did sparks flew from the drone’s eyes and ears. Tom jumped back in alarm.
But that was it. No death lasers, or pajama-searing lasers.
The drone simply stood there, stock-still. Its eyes had lost their red light and were now back to a muted gray. Somewhere in the depths of its body a servo was humming, slowing until it finally fell silent.
The thing was dead. Or at least deactivated.
Must have been a solar flare. Tom reached up to absently rub the mole on his neck.
Should he take the envelope? Would the thing wake in anger, having not completed its delivery protocols?
After a moment’s hesitation, Tom grabbed the envelope from the drone’s mouth, then went inside, slamming the door closed behind him.
There was no shipping address on the envelope, but the drone had confirmed his identity before opening its mouth, right? He could always point that out in case he was put on trial for mail fraud.
He tore open the envelope. Inside was a postcard showing a desert landscape with the words Greetings from Phoenix across the top in a jaunty font.
Tom flipped it over. The message read simply:
T, This is a secret message. You will be contacted this evening by a friend from Squad One. Signed, J.
He blinked in confusion. Was it a note from Jason? His former squad leader? Why the secrecy?
But maybe the NEA was still in hiding. Maybe they had to communicate in secret so they wouldn't be discovered. Maybe they had chosen Tom for some super-secret mission!
His heart started thudding wildly. He had to get dressed!
Samantha came home at six. No word from Jason.
They ate dinner at seven. No word from Jason.
They finished a puzzle of the empire state building by nine. Still no word from Jason.
Tom was starting to wonder if the delivery had been made on the wrong date. Those drones weren’t exactly reliable.
“Do you think you’ll have to leave again?” Samantha asked. They’d already gone over the possibilities a number of times. Their going theory was that he had somehow passed the selection criteria, and they wanted to offer him a job. But it had to be a secret job for now.
The problem was that it might mean Tom would have to leave Phoenix again. He wasn’t sure he could do that.
“I don’t know,” he said. He gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m going to go take a shower. Clear my head.”
He let the bathroom get nice and steamy and let the water run down his back for a good half hour, letting all his tension and disappointment and apprehension run down the drain.
While he was toweling off he heard voices from downstairs. He figured it was probably the television working again, so he dressed in his pajamas and padded down in his slippers.
He was surprised to find Jason sitting at his kitchen table enjoying a steaming cup of coffee.
Samantha sat across from him. She had her elbows on the table and her chin resting in her hands. Jason made an odd growling noise and she threw her head back and laughed until her cheeks turned red.
When she noticed Tom standing there she lept to her feet, ran to him, and gave him a fierce hug.
“Babe! Jason was just telling me the story about your courageous last stand against the werewolves, and how you refused to go down without a fight. He says you saved him from certain death.”
Tom smiled and looked down at her. She was gazing up at him with a mixture of awe and starry-eyed hunger.
“You’re so sexy,” she said.
He blushed.
“So, you came after all!” Tom said.
Jason stood and they shook hands, then Jason pulled him into another hug. “Yeah. Sorry it took so long. We really don’t want anyone to see us in public.” He looked at them sheepishly. “You know, since all that stuff with Earl up on the moon.”
“Yeah,” Samantha said. “What’s the deal with that? You’re all just leaving us hanging now? Without the supply boxes and the forecasts?”
Jason sighed and sat back down at the table. Samantha and Tom took the other two chairs.
“I’ll be honest,” Jason said. “It’s not pretty. Earl’s gone completely mad with power. He has at least six death rays now, and he’s targeting all of the NEA field offices. Somehow he’s been able to track our movements. We’ve found a secure location, and have been hiding out, trying to figure out how to stop him.”
“Are any of his claims true?” Tom asked. “About how the NEA are behind all the apocalypses, and how you really do know how to stop them?”
Jason looked from Tom to Samantha. “If I show you both something, will you promise to keep it a secret? I will seriously lose my job if anyone finds out, since it’s classified. But I know you, Tom, and I trust you.”
Samantha and Tom nodded. “We promise,” Samantha said.
“Cross your hearts,” Jason replied.
They both did. Jason seemed to take this as a solemn oath. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his smartphone.
“So, Earl is right. The NEA did cause the apocalypses, and mostly by accident. But our intention was to save the world.”
“From what?” Tom almost laughed. What could be worse than Giant Spiders, or Hell Spawn, or Vampires, or Nuclear Holocaust, or every single disaster and calamity that the world was subjected to every week.
“You’ve heard of the particle accelerators, right?”
They both nodded.
“Ok. Well we learned that we could use them to slip between realities. This was years ago, before I even worked there, but once you’ve earned your security clearance you’re allowed access to all sorts of information. Well, it turns out that our ‘prime’ reality was headed towards total annihilation. The kind you don’t come back from.” Jason sat back and rubbed the back of his neck.
“It’s bad. We still have some recordings from the ‘prime’ reality, but they’re just a collection of old newscasts showing death and destruction. I can play you one. There’s no sound, but you’ll get the idea.”
He pushed a button on his phone and held it out. Samantha and Tom scooted their chairs over so they could watch.
The video showed a man standing behind a podium with the presidential seal.
“Is that the dude from that reality show?” Samantha said.
Jason nodded gravely.
“It is.”
“And he became president!?”
Jason nodded again. “He did. But it gets worse.”
They watched the man behind the podium make wild, sweeping gestures. He was angry. Spit was flying from his mouth as he spoke and pointed at some unseen crowd. His aids were ashen-faced, staring down at their feet.
The camera cut to a view of New York. At least what was left of New York. Only a couple skyscrapers were still standing, but you could make out Central Park. The camera switched to a view of Ellis Island. All that remained of the Statue of Liberty were her feet.
The camera switched again.
Location after location. Paris. Moscow. Tokyo. Beijing. Rio.
All leveled to rubble.
“What caused all of that?” Samantha whispered.
“War, mostly,” Jason replied. “Some of the NEA scientists figured that they had nothing to lose, and they flipped on the particle accelerators, moving the whole world in parallel realities. It was chaotic at first. Nothing much changes between realities until you get further from the ‘prime.’ So at first people didn’t even realize it was working. Then they realized that the further from ‘prime’ they took us, the less predictable things became.”
He turned off the phone and put it back in his pocket.
“So eventually they settled on a weekly schedule. No matter what apocalyptic reality we stumble into, it only lasts a week. That’s why people get better, or reappear. Things get jumbled up a bit here and there, but that’s the long and short of it.”
“Ok, so how do we know we’re really us?” Tom asked. The ramifications of this were mind-boggling. Was Samantha the same Samantha from the week before? Was he? Was anything real?
He started taking quick, short breaths. Samantha reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
“Don’t ask too many questions right now,“ Jason said. “It’s a lot to take in. Once you join us, they’ll explain more of it.”
“What do you mean once he joins you?” Samantha asked. “Are you offering him a job?”
Jason’s face brightened into a grin. “Oh! Yeah! I didn’t even mention that part yet. Some of the scientists were so impressed by your designs for the Killer Bunny repellent that they immediately wanted to hire you. But then all that crap with Earl started, and they had to go into hiding.”
“Wait. They liked that?” Tom was incredulous. “I drew that in like five minutes.”
“That’s what I said! That’s why they were so impressed. They started talking about what else you might come up with if you had more time and resources. So basically they sent me to try and recruit you. We want you on the research and development team. You can start tomorrow if you want.”
Tom smiled and looked over at Samantha. His smile turned to a frown. “I can’t, Jason. Thank you for the offer, but I can’t leave Phoenix. I have a good life here and-”
“Oh, no you won’t be leaving Phoenix. We have a bunker right here in town!”
“What? Really?” Samantha said. She shrieked with excitement. “Oh, babe, this is such good news! You were getting so sulky the last couple weeks. You won’t have to go back to insurance sales!”
Jason looked at Tom. “So you’ll join up?”
Tom grinned. “Heck yes I will!”
Jason reached over and pulled him into another hug. It was awkward, hanging over the edge of the table like that, but Tom didn’t care.
He got to work in a secret bunker!
Jason didn’t leave until late that evening. They stayed up talking and drinking beer. Jason tried to answer as many of their questions as he could, but he kept having to remind them that he was mostly a field agent. Tom would probably end up knowing more than him after a month.
When it was finally time to leave Samantha went up to Jason and gave him a great big hug.
“Thanks so much for believing in Tom. He never believes in himself, but I just knew he’d get the job eventually.”
“You got yourself a good man, Samantha. You both are lucky.”
They said their farewells and Tom opened the door.
The drone was still standing there, dead-eyed and silent. Jason walked around, being careful not to touch it, then waved and disappeared into the night.
“Poor thing,” Samantha said. “He must be so lonely.”
“What do you mean? Jason? I doubt he’s lonely. He’s buff and has an awesome uniform.”
“No, silly, not Jason. Him,” she gestured at the delivery drone. “I’m going to get him a blanket.”
She went upstairs. Tom stared at the drone. He reached out and poked it on the shoulder. It was soft and malleable. Almost like real skin. Kinda of creepy, actually.
But they were sentient, weren’t they? At least partially?
Could a delivery drone feel lonely? Did they dream of electric girlfriends, or undelivered packages, or mean guard dogs?
Samantha came up behind him and draped a thick fluffy blanket over the drone’s shoulders, tucking the corners into the collar of its coveralls.
Samantha was the best human Tom had ever met. He knew right then that he would never leave her. He would do anything for her. He would have gone back to selling insurance as long as it meant he could be around her every day.
He got down on one knee. “Samantha. I don’t have a ring or anything, but…um...will you marry me?”
She froze. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She got down on her knees beside him. “Are you crazy? Of course I will!”
They started making out, right there at the feet of the frozen delivery drone.
It was awkward, but after a second Tom found he really didn’t care!
Author’s Note
This last Season took Tom and Samantha’s story in a really unexpected direction. I tried to tie things together in a satisfying way for you all, but still leave it open for future “Seasons.”
Tom started off as a fairly autobiographical character, and was originally inspired by my former life as an insurance salesman. I actually had the opportunity to blog for CheapInsurance.com a few years ago, and my boss at the time let me post the occasional piece of fiction. That’s where this whole idea started, so I want to give a shout out to the company (it’s only fair).
At the time I had mixed feelings about the idea of corporate-sponsored fiction, until I realized that all my favorite shows were “corporate-sponsored” in some way. So that’s probably where the episodic format of Everyday Apocalypse came from.
These were always meant to be light-hearted and fun. Some of my reviewers were a little irked that nothing of any real consequence happens in these books, and nobody dies despite all the horrors unleashed on them every week.
It’s a fair point. If you came to these looking for more typical, grittier, apocalyptic fiction, I apologize (although you probably gave up on these halfway through the first book). In my mind these were always more about the “everyday” rather than the “apocalypse.”
It’s kind of funny though, since the majority of my other writing, and the majority of my upcoming projects are much darker in tone and content. It’s going to be really interesting to me to see if I can keep any of my current readers when I launch my next projects.
I hope I do!
Anyway, thanks again for reading this, and for spending your hard-earned money on them. It’s incredible to me that anyone outside of my circle of friends and family even found these books, let alone bought them.
It is really humbling and inspiring, and I can’t wait to publish more!
As an indie author I am constantly looking for feedback from my readers, because they largely determine what direction I take my career. You’re my customer, after all.
How to contact me:
If you enjoyed these episodes, feel free to leave me a note on Facebook, or shoot me an email at [email protected]. I would love to hear from you. Especially if you want to encourage me to write more of these “Seasons.”
If you’re interested in hea
ring from me directly via the occasional email, please join my mailing list. I will send out notices for upcoming books, and maybe some future promotions.
Mailing List Signup
My website has a list of my current projects, with estimated release dates. I hope you’ll find something else that interests you. Right now, my projects are pretty eclectic. They say write what you love to read, and I love to read (and write) all kinds of different things! At the same time though, if I hear from enough readers that want me to focus on a specific world or project, I might focus my efforts a bit. But I promise I won’t leave any projects unfinished, so don’t worry.
Talk to you soon!
-Pieter
www.pieterlars.com
About Me
I’ve been writing for years, but didn’t start submitting anything to publications until around 2013. I had my first short story published that year in an anthology called California Cantata, by Kazka Press. They put out a call for historical fantasy stories set in California. Authors were asked to choose a California county and write a story set within that county’s history, but with added speculative fiction elements.
The story they purchased from me was called Weaverville. It was about a U.S. Marshall named Bisby, who used his alchemical knowledge to fight a demon that had been summoned by the local gold baron. It was a hell of a lot of fun to write, and seeing it in (electronic) print gave me a lot of confidence as a writer.
I may publish it to Amazon, since the anthology is out of print and I have the rights back.
I applied to Clarion (UCSD) that year and was accepted, which meant I spent six weeks in San Diego, learning short fiction from some of my favorite writers (my instructors were Robert Crais, Andy Duncan, Kelly Link, Nalo Hopkinson, Karen Joy Fowler, and Cory Doctorow). It was an incredible experience, and I came away from it a much better writer.
However, it also scrambled my brain for a while. I spent the next couple years with major writer’s block.
