The drop, p.24
The Drop, page 24
"If a corpse could talk, what secrets do you think it would spill," Carla responded.
"Oh, Lord." The police officer spoke into her radio again. "Dispatch, I'm definitely gonna need that backup. I got another HFOD falling apart." Then to me, "This your sister?"
"She's my roommate."
"You better call her parents. See if they can come pick her up at the station."
"I can't reach them," I told her.
"Well, you best try again."
"What are you going to do to her?" I asked.
"I'm gonna wait until I got some backup, and then I'm gonna pull your friend out the car, and take her down to the station. Don't know if they've even got the room down there, but hey, I'll let them sort out that problem."
I have to admit that I was actually relieved to hear that Carla would soon be off my hands.
"You mind if I give her parents a call?" I asked. I'd seen too many videos of random people getting shot to death by jumpy police officers to do anything without permission.
"Go for it," the cop said. "Your friend got a name?"
"Carla." I pulled out my cell phone and watched as the officer tried to coax Carla out of the passenger seat.
"You're going to have to shoot me," I heard Carla say at one point. "Go on! Do it! I wanna see how it feels."
There was no answer from Carla's parents, and I began to wonder if they had fallen prey to HFOD themselves. As I went to dial them for a third time, another officer pulled up, lights strobing in the darkness.
It was a male police officer this time. He jogged up to the first officer. "Another one?" he asked.
"Yeah, we got another one," the female officer replied.
"Put your weapons in the car," the new officer said to the first officer.
"I'd rather just mace her ass and drag her out kicking and screaming."
"Come on now, we don't want her reaching for your gun while we try and pull her out" the male officer said. "She's not in her right mind."
"No shit. That don't mean I got to risk getting the crazy in me. They say that Whoa-Town did this, but what if it's some sort of zombie bullshit and she goes to bite us, and then boom... then you got The Drop? Uh-uh, I ain't tryin' to get that."
"Listen, you want me to go in and get her?"
"You better. I am about ready to quit. I am sick of this bullshit. There ain't enough of us to be dealing with this."
As if to underscore her point, the officers' radios crackled to life. "We got more reports of HFODs losing it. Turk and Mebane St. All units respond."
"Alright, I got this," the male officer said. "Last thing I need is another cop quitting on us. I'm getting like four hours of sleep as it is. Just gimme some cover."
I watched as the male officer reached into the vehicle and undid Carla's seatbelt. He lifted her hand, and then she struck, raking at his face with a clawed hand. The cop fell backwards, and that's when the female officer stepped in with her can of mace, spraying Carla in the eyes. Very roughly, more roughly than I could have imagined, they pulled the blinded Carla from the car and threw her down in the grass on the side of the road. They trussed her up like a Thanksgiving Day turkey and carried her to the back of the female officer's squad car.
When they were done, the male officer asked if the female officer was alright. She nodded, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down her face. He walked to his car and took off, lights flashing and sirens at full blare. The officer looked at me for the first time in a while. "You ok to drive?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"You reach her parents?"
"Not yet."
She just nodded her head. "Stay safe," she said. Then she got in her car and drove away. I stood bewildered in the darkness on the side of the road. As I opened the door to the car, on the other side of the highway, a passing van smashed into the rear end of a semi-truck. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was too much for one night. I hopped into Dad's SUV and started my trek back home. After a few miles, the vision of the car accident was like something from a bad dream.
I wish I could say that was the end of my night, but it wasn't. When I reached my dad's house, the power was out. All around me, police sirens blared, firetrucks blazing into the night along with ambulances, and I knew HFOD had hit a new phase. My hand reached to turn on the radio, but then I hesitated, still a little gun shy. What if some DJ went crazy and decided to just give the whole city HFOD? I know, it sounds a little paranoid, but you just never know, not with all this shit going down around us.
The lights were off as I walked up to the front door of our house. It was dark, so I pulled out my cell phone and turned on the flashlight. Inside, there was a smell. I shined my flashlight around the room, and that's when I saw my dad, just sitting there in a chair, his face blank as before. He was in sublimity again. The sight saddened me, and for a moment, the crazy idea stole across my mind that maybe I should just put him out of his misery. If the next phase is going completely crazy and wishing for death, I don't know if I'm strong enough for that.
I thought, with him sitting there, frozen and oblivious, it would be so easy to put a pillow over his face and end this all. What did I have to lose? I had already killed one person.
Then the thought crossed my mind, Am I a killer? Am I one of those people that sees human life as nothing more than what it is, a beating heart, a set of lungs and a brain all filled with blood, something that can be shut off as easily as a television? I get goosebumps just thinking about it... that there's a person inside me capable of even thinking those thoughts. But the moment passed, and I checked on Dad. He was fine, just sublime.
I went and found some candles, and I sat with Dad then, wondering what the next step was. I scanned my phone for reports of anything. There was shit all over the internet, on news sites, etc. Every site I went to featured a red splash banner with the words "Breaking News" in all caps. There were reports of people hurting themselves, sometimes taking others with them. The CDC had yet to release a statement, and a lot of talking heads were spending the early morning hours trying to theorize about what this next phase of HFOD was.
As I read more and more about the many lives that were obviously being snuffed out that night, a feeling of hopelessness washed over me. It hasn't left yet. It's still here, crawling all over me, looking for a way into my heart. I know that if I let it inside, I'll do something to Dad that I'll never be able to forgive myself for. I guess I'll keep reading on my phone... hopefully, I fall asleep soon. And when the power comes back on, I can turn on some Whoa-Town for Dad, and maybe have a conversation with him, talk about what he wants done.
****
Transcript of Good Morning Today - May 22, 2021
Two women, Christine Woods and Lucy St. Ides, and a man, Monty Verdad, sit on a set that was clearly designed for happier times. A bright image of a sun sits behind them. The set is designed in blues and yellows, warm tones that were meant to say "Good morning!" to America. They are framed by a glass window behind them. Before The Drop, people would gather there and beat on the glass in the hopes that someone at home would see them. Their cell phones would be glued to their heads as they tried to call family and friends to tell them to turn on the TV because they were on Good Morning Today. But there was no one in the windows this morning. And the faces of the show's hosts were grim.
Monty: Good morning, today. We have a new development in the HFOD case, the disease that has virtually crippled America and left scientists scratching their collective heads. It seems that this disease has a new stage, and it went live last night.
Christine: What you are about to see is the shocking video of an HFOD victim taking control of a bus in the city of Austin, Texas in the late hours of last night. The video is graphic. Viewer discretion is advised for those with small children in the room.
Grainy security camera footage from the back of the bus begins playing. The view cuts to the front of the bus, where we see the driver. A woman walks up the aisle. She stands there for a moment and then grasps the wheel, turning it sharply. The passengers in the bus tilt sideways, a look of horror crossing many of their faces. They reach for rails and poles to steady themselves, and then there is some sort of impact. Bodies go flying, and it is clear the bus is on its side. The HFOD victim lays in a twisted heap. In the black and white footage, black blood drips from the many wounds on her twisted body.
Lucy: Scenes like this played out all over the world. This is no isolated incident, and authorities in America have declared a state of emergency for the entire country. HFOD victims, previously thought to be mostly harmless, have suddenly begun engaging in self-destructive behavior. Scientists say this appears to be a new stage in the development of HFOD, and as with the other stages, it is predictable by time. The earliest victims of HFOD have all exhibited these behaviors.
Monty: With us today is a member of the CDC, Vick Carmichael.
A large man with thinning hair and thick eyeglasses appears on the screen. His face is ruddy and his thick bottom lip looks overly moist, as if he were in a constant state of drooling.
Monty: What can you tell us about this new development?
Vick: This new development, in short, is disastrous. HFOD victims, the earliest HFOD victims, are now exhibiting self-destructive behavior. In many incidences, this behavior has threatened the lives of others. Much of this behavior is tentative in nature. An HFOD victim might cut themselves, they might test out asphyxiation, they might smash their head into the wall. Along with these activities, this new phase seems to be accompanied by thoughts of death, morbid thoughts, or suicidal ideation. Most of the people going through this phase do not go through with actual suicide, and there have been no reports that these victims are actively trying to hurt others, but as we can see with that bus crash in Austin, if you have one of these people in the wrong place at the wrong time, the consequences can be disastrous.
Christine: Hi, Vick. This is Christine Woods. I just have one question. As someone with an HFOD individual at home, what can I do about this?
Vick adjusts the glasses on his face.
Vick: Listen... I'm not trying to pass myself off as an authority on this; there is much that we still don't know. But I will say that you should use your common sense. Keep weapons out of the hands of these people. Keep an eye on them at all times. Do not be in a vehicle with them, do not travel with them, don't take them into public.
Lucy: It sounds like you're recommending quarantining them.
Vick: I know it seems inhumane, but until we see where this stage goes, and this may not be the final stage, until we see where this goes, it might be best to just strap them down. If they're going to hurt themselves, I don't really see what other choice there is.
Monty: Hold on, everybody. We're receiving word that the White House is releasing some sort of statement.
Monty puts a hand to his ear, and looks down, concentrating on the words that are being said into his ear.
Monty: Dr. Carmichael, I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this interview short. We have a briefing from the White House that we are going to have to cut to.
Vick: Oh, I can't wait to see this.
Monty: Sorry folks, for those of you just joining us, we were just talking to Dr. Vick Carmichael of the CDC about new developments with HFOD victims, and we are now about to take you to the White House where Joe-Beth Monroe-Johns, White House Press Secretary, is about to make an announcement concerning this new development in HFOD.
The show cuts to a shot of the James S. Brady briefing room. Joe-Beth Monroe-Johns shuffles some papers at the podium. Cameras flash, reporters crowd into the room, waiting for the briefing of Monroe-Johns.
Joe-Beth: Welcome, y'all. I wish I had some better news than what I'm 'bout to give ya, but it is what it is. So, let's get right to it. The Vice President and his advisory committee have determined that as of now, all HFOD victims are to be confined to their house. No HFOD victim of more than thirty days is allowed to be in the public. If an HFOD victim is found in public they will be confined by authorities. The President is mobilizing the National Guard, and he has issued orders to institute martial law in large metropolitan areas. So again, no HFOD victim who exhibits a state other than sublimity is allowed out in public. For those dealing with loved ones, we ask that you confine them to home. In this way, we hope to lessen the impact of the new stage of HFOD.
Reporter #1: Hi, Joe-Beth. Do you have a list of the cities that will be under martial law?
Joe-Beth: We'll get that to you shortly. You.
Joe-Beth points at a reporter with his hand raised.
Reporter #2: Joe-Beth, what is being done about a cure for HFOD? I mean this situation just seems to get worse and worse every day. What is being done?
Joe-Beth: Listen, we all know this is a hard situation. The CDC is working on a cure. I can't get more specific than that, just know that we're not sitting on our thumbs and calling it progress. You.
Reporter #3: Scott Kopec, Washington Post,
Joe-Beth: Yeah, yeah, I know who you are. Get to it.
Scott Kopec: The government is being tight-lipped about the numbers here. Just how many people are estimated to be afflicted with HFOD?
Joe-Beth: This again.
Joe-Beth rolls her eyes.
Joe-Beth: Listen, when we get numbers you'll be the first to hear about it. Well, maybe not you specifically, but you get the idea.
Reporter #1: How will HFOD victims caught out in public be detained?
Joe-Beth: I don't have the specifics for that. We're putting a plan in place. We'll forward it to police departments, our field generals, and once they know, you'll get the memo. Alright? Good.
A field of hands go up into the air, reporters wanting to ask more questions.
Joe-Beth: Alright, thanks y'all.
A chorus of people yell Joe-Beth's name, but she turns and ignores them, to the frustration of the reporters.
Scott Kopeck (yelling): Joe-Beth, what is the word on the President. Where is he?
Joe Beth walks out of the room.
The view cuts back to the set of Good Morning Today. Monty, Christine, and Lucy all reset themselves as the show goes on.
Monty: Well, there you have it. Martial law has been declared for major metropolitan areas. All HFOD victims of over a month have been banned from being in public.
Christine: I can't believe this... I really can't believe this. What is going on in this world?
Lucy: I know. It feels unreal.
Christine: Don't patronize me, Lucy. I mean what the fuck is really going on?
Monty: Christine!
Christine: Oh, shut up, Monty. You're only here because the first three options got HFOD. I mean, are we talking about the end of the world here? If a gal can't swear during the apocalypse, then when the hell can she swear? Fuck, shit, cunt, eat a pussy.
Christine stands up and pulls off her microphone, tossing it onto the ground. Monty smiles at the camera as she walks off set.
Monty: I'm sorry about that folks. Understandably this is a hard time for everyone.
Christine (off-camera): Fuck you, Monty! Go back to the goddamn mail room.
Monty glares at Christine off-camera.
Lucy: We'll be back after this break.
****
Transcript of Brad Coakley's Interview with Assembled National Press
Mexico City - May 23, 2021
Officer Juan Sanchez-Montoya: We all know you've been dying to speak to Brad Coakley about Whoa-Town. We have finished our investigation and gleaned all the information we need from him. In an effort to apply some transparency and to protect Mr. Coakley from those that might hurt him for his perceived role in the spread of HFOD, he has agreed to speak to the media in an effort to help with the investigation into Whoa-Town. As far as the presence of Whoa-Town in Mexico City goes, we are following up on some leads that Mr. Coakley has given us. In the opinion of the Mexican Government, Mr. Coakley has been upfront and clear in his answers. There is no artifice there. I will now field questions for Mr. Coakley.
Beth Montgomery (Herald Sun - Australia): Mr. Coakley, what did you see in the weeks leading up to the first Drop concert?
Coakley: Listen, it was like any other tour. The people were excited. I had designed some really great visual effects to take advantage of this opportunity. You gotta understand that I worked so hard on putting some really unique aspects into the concert, black flames, lots of wirework with the band, a stage that was like a freakin' Transformer. So yeah, I was pretty pumped to get all that stuff out there and see how it grabbed the audience. For myself, I was like a kid a week out from Christmas, my head filled with how awesome everything was gonna be. For the people around me, well, I got the sense that it was much the same. Rick Reaves was positively gushing about the new album. He was as animated and as excited as I'd ever seen him. The band, in my capacity as production designer, I had to work pretty closely with them, since with all that wirework and with the pyro and the moving stage bits, they were essentially putting their lives in my hands... they were pretty stoked as well. I mean, most people don't know this, but I been with them since tour one. Those people did not always get along, but in this case, they were like one unit, one organism, one mind... and they were as pumped as the rest of us.
Noah Sindersby (Daily Mail - UK): Did you notice anything off or weird before The Drop?
Coakley: Naw... I mean it was pretty run of the mill. Get in, build it up, practice it. The only real weird thing I guess was that we did so much practice, and we never actually heard any of the songs, you know. They used countdowns and timers to get their timing right. They had a big board on stage, like what you would see in a karaoke bar or something. It would show all the words, count 'em down. But you know, I've done several tours before I worked with Whoa-Town and all these artists, all these rockstars are just off their fuckin' rockers anyway, pardon my language. So I didn't think nothin' of it. I just thought, well, they're just weird. I mean, you gotta be weird to want to be in a boy band, right? Then, once we got the install done and they actually wanted to use live music, Rick Reaves comes around and he says, "Here, put these in."
