“Night is coming. Get inside your shelters, and good luck.”
I flipped the switch off, the crackle of power and the descending hum that always accompanied the winding down of the radio broadcast board in front of me comforting in a strange sort of way.
I hit the button on the turntable, and the whirr of its spinning up filled the silence that had come. Soft music – an old metal song – began to filter through the speaker above the mixer. I tend to play that kind of music when the night is falling. It helps get people amped up a little, gets the adrenaline flowing. Just in case. Some of them need it, desperately.
I turned the volume down a bit more, just to make sure there would be no sound coming out of the small room I kept the equipment in. I had about five minutes before the end of the song came along and the need to switch it to something else to replace potential dead air, and started my nightly ritual of getting ready for the passage of the sun outside.
First things first, check the windows. The wood paneling I found a few weeks ago has been holding up well, and I think it’s doing a good job of blocking out any light from inside of the small building I had come to occupy, but I check it every day, just to make sure everything is in its right place. The glass has been gone for a long time, I think, but that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to look out of it, anyhow.
Door locks in place and still solid. Good. That’s always my first line of defense and would be the first thing to go if the things decided to come.
The large desk and filing cabinets I had waiting on the other side of the door would help. Hopefully.
I opened the door and checked outside, the sun still shining bright in the sky over the endless expanse of green grass and brown hills to the north, and there was no sign of anything walking that I could see.
Good. That was one of the things I really liked about this place. Whoever built it had done a good job, its structure sound and steady, and the fact it was surrounded by flat land for a mile around it each way was something I had come to appreciate.
The door slipped closed and I flipped the lock into place, then slid desk and cabinets in front of it to create a blockade.
I went to the kitchen and prepped what I would need for the night. Three bottles of water were already on the counter waiting, and I filled the filter bucket with another batch to decontaminate for the next few hours. Dinner was simple and easy, as it usually was, but I was starting to get worried about my meager provisions. I would be able to hold out for another few weeks without much issue, but I’d have to start foraging soon, and that was always a danger.
Not only from the things, but other people, too. Desperate times…
While the cook fire was getting the batch of rice ready, I went back to the broadcast room and flipped the record to another one, a dance hit from sometime in the Eighties. Whether people liked that kind of thing or not, I didn’t know, but it was a catchy tune and made me smile, anyway.
I checked the dials and saw everything was broadcasting out at the best power I could manage, the solar cells having charged the battery banks in the basements nicely without the cloud cover we’d had the past week. I was glad it finally cleared out and smiled once more at the effectiveness of whoever had built this place.
I had been so surprised to find it sitting empty, and there was no indication at all of who had created it or occupied it, nor what happened to them after the Fall, but I wasn’t going to say no to the taking.
Besides, I was doing a service, an important one, at that.
Morale is so hard to come by these days, and having a voice in the darkness can really make all the difference. I’m sure you understand completely, having lived through all of this hell, too.
If I could be a bright spot in the nightmare this world has become then so be it. I am happy to take on that lot in my life, and the few people who have been able to contact me tell me they appreciate what I am doing.
That’s good enough for me.
I brought the rice back to the room and closed the door behind me, settling into the cushioned chair for the evening.
I flicked the switch for the microphone and waited until the song playing was over, the soft whine of subtle feedback a little annoying to my ears, but that always happened when I put power to the device. I’m not sure if something is going wrong with it, or if it’s just a product of its age, but thankfully it only lasts for a couple of moments before fading out entirely.
“I hope everyone is settled in,” I intone into the microphone, my lips only a few inches from the metallic edge of it. I watched the monitor in front of me to make sure I wasn’t coming through too hot. “According to my clock, sunset will be in about 20 minutes. I’m ready for the night. Are you?”
I pulled another record out of its’ sheet and sat it on the turntable while I talked. I set it into motion again and popped the needle down on it, letting the first cadences of the song come through before going on.
“I’m going to be here with you, guys. I’m always here with you. We’re going to get through this, if we do it together.” I put my finger on the button to turn the mic off. “Be good to each other.”
The mic whined down and I sat back, letting the sound of the song, softly humming through the speaker, come into me, and I relaxed into it.
No one really knows how the things came to be, but the impact they’ve had on our world has been devastating. I’ve hear the rumors, and I am sure you have, too. Aliens? Nah, I don’t think so. If it was, I’m betting they would have come down by now and taken everything over. There are so few of us left now, after all.
All I know is the things are bright, lighting up the night like an extravagant candle while they hunt, and the day is the only time it’s safe to show your face outdoors.
I’ve only seen them once, and that was more than enough for me. It was the night before I found this place, in fact, before I took on the role of the DJ of the apocalypse, spinning the hits while oblivion opens its maw in front of us all and sucks us in.
I’d been walking through a field, desperately hungry with a pack almost as empty as my stomach. There was a hill not far ahead, the one to the north of this very building, in fact, and with night coming on, I knew I was in trouble. I’d hoped I could make it to the next town while the light of day still shone, but there was no such luck. I wasn’t even sure which direction it would be.
When I saw the flare of light, the body of the thing igniting its white-hot glare, I pressed my body into the dirt and prayed it hadn’t seen me.
I belly-crawled along as a keening wail started up, echoing across the flat of land I was occupying and each time it resounded, my stomach dropped even more. I was scared, my friend, terrified I had been spotted and would soon find myself a hollow meal for a monstrosity that thought nothing of humanity but that we were cattle.
Another echo from somewhere behind me told me there was more than one, and I knew I was in trouble. Oh gods, I was in serious crap.
My movements became more frantic as I desperately sought out some kind of shelter, something that would hide me from the watchful gazes of these incarnations of malevolence.
I think a god of some kind must have been watching out for me that night, because my body slanted downward as a large, long ditch opened up before me. I crawled into it and pulled lengths of grass out of the ground and covered myself with them camouflaging my body as much as I could.
One of the things was close. Oh, so close. I could hear the soft pads of its feet against the ground, and I am sure it came to the edge of that ditch, sensing me, perhaps, or having heard my frantic pulling at the grass to coat myself. It knew, I think, something was there, but did not come closer.
A burst of sound came from the end of the ditch I found myself in and I almost jumped up to run when I heard it, almost feeling the cold hands of the thing grasping me.
But it had been a rabbit or some other small animal, I think, startled into motion by the approach of the creature.
A loud hoot-howl emanated from the light and it shot away from my position, giving chase to the movement. I held my breath as its companion joined it, and held myself stock-still for the next few hours it took night to come to an end.
I don’t know if that bunny made it. I hope so. It was my salvation that night.
I’ve heard those hoots out in the fields surrounding this place, and I wonder if they, perhaps, are aware they missed me and are searching for me in their way, but I cannot be sure.
I do know I never want to look at one again, and, as the night comes down once again over the little land of oblivion we all now occupy, I hope you do not either.
Night is coming, folks. Get to your shelters… and good luck.
To us all.
