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2 True OFF THE GRID Horror Stories Animated · Martin Animations

• 0:01
  Speaker 1: I moved off the grid after the divorce. New Mexico
• 0:04
  Speaker 1: fit me because it was pretty affordable. Land was cheap,
• 0:07
  Speaker 1: the wind carried, and sun was reliable. I wanted simple living.
• 0:12
  Speaker 1: A roof I paid for in sweat. A bank of
• 0:14
  Speaker 1: solar panels that hummed like lifeblood. A tank full of
• 0:17
  Speaker 1: collected rain and hauled water. Days would slip into this
• 0:20
  Speaker 1: nice clean routine. Charge the batteries, check the lines, mend
• 0:24
  Speaker 1: what breaks, sit on the stoop and enjoy what's mine.
• 0:27
  Speaker 1: I even had windows for growing crops. Now, I didn't
• 0:31
  Speaker 1: come all the way out here to hide. I'd already
• 0:34
  Speaker 1: raised kids, worked not one but two careers, and tried
• 0:37
  Speaker 1: to be all the things that all people are. But
• 0:40
  Speaker 1: out here, the list just gets shorter. Keep the lights on,
• 0:43
  Speaker 1: keep the pump primed, and enjoy every second of it.
• 0:48
  Speaker 1: The nights out here were better than sex. Oh, baby.
• 0:51
  Speaker 1: Zero light pollution, and coyotes tune the countryside, and stars
• 0:55
  Speaker 1: cut through everything else. I heard a quote that really
• 0:59
  Speaker 1: inspired me. War is easy. All you have to do
• 1:02
  Speaker 1: is survive. I didn't want war, but I wanted that
• 1:05
  Speaker 1: kind of mindset when I got up every single morning.
• 1:08
  Speaker 1: The highway brings unwanted traffic. An interstate curls through the
• 1:11
  Speaker 1: hills a few miles south, and it'll drag strangers the
• 1:14
  Speaker 1: way river will drag garbage. Most will pass by, some
• 1:18
  Speaker 1: wave from the shoulder and keep moving. But every so often,
• 1:23
  Speaker 1: one will stray. Call it curiosity, boredom, strung-out desperations. They
• 1:29
  Speaker 1: walk the auroras and fences like they're shopping. The harmless
• 1:32
  Speaker 1: ones will make eye contact when they ask for water.
• 1:35
  Speaker 1: The spun-out ones will come right at you. I would
• 1:39
  Speaker 1: keep polite boundaries, a no-nonsense tone, and a camera over
• 1:42
  Speaker 1: my porch. The nearest neighbors sat a mile apart. I
• 1:47
  Speaker 1: also kept a single-shot. 410 in the kitchen drawer and
• 1:50
  Speaker 1: a steadier prayer inside my chest that every day nobody
• 1:53
  Speaker 1: would be showing up to bother me and I'd have
• 1:55
  Speaker 1: to use it. The day my story takes place, it
• 1:59
  Speaker 1: was really quiet. I was inside cleaning dishes when someone
• 2:03
  Speaker 1: knocked on my front door. Three knocks, and immediately I
• 2:07
  Speaker 1: was on edge. Nobody knocks out here. People honk, or
• 2:10
  Speaker 1: they shout from their trucks, and that's only when they
• 2:13
  Speaker 1: show up. I have maybe a visitor once a month, maybe,
• 2:19
  Speaker 1: if at all. So when that sound erupted through my house,
• 2:23
  Speaker 1: I froze for a second. Through the window, I saw
• 2:27
  Speaker 1: a man standing on my porch. Mid-twenties, maybe, neat hair,
• 2:30
  Speaker 1: clean shaven. His shirt was buttoned up to the neck,
• 2:33
  Speaker 1: but the fabric was stained dark at the armpits and collar.
• 2:36
  Speaker 1: Looked decent from a distance, less so up close. He
• 2:41
  Speaker 1: gave me this polite smile.' Afternoon, ma'am. Hope I'm not intruding.''
• 2:45
  Speaker 1: What do you need?' I asked him simply.' Ah, just
• 2:50
  Speaker 1: kinda curious about your solar setup,' he said.' I' m thinking
• 2:53
  Speaker 1: about putting one in myself.' That line would get me
• 2:57
  Speaker 1: all the time, people wanting to see how I did it.
• 3:00
  Speaker 1: Most of them were pretty harmless, and some turned out
• 3:03
  Speaker 1: to actually be solar salesmen, of course. I opened the
• 3:07
  Speaker 1: door just a few inches and left the chain on.
• 3:10
  Speaker 1: You running a system already? I asked him. Trying to.
• 3:14
  Speaker 1: I bought property right down the road here, off the pass.
• 3:17
  Speaker 1: I figured I'd ask around before spending a bunch of money,
• 3:20
  Speaker 1: you know? He looked at me dead in the eye,
• 3:23
  Speaker 1: but something didn't really match up. His pupils were blown
• 3:26
  Speaker 1: wide and there was this sour smell under his cologne,
• 3:29
  Speaker 1: ammonia or something. What brand inverter are you using? I asked.
• 3:36
  Speaker 1: He blinked. Uh, Outback. Which model? He smiled at me
• 3:41
  Speaker 1: like I asked him some kind of trick question. Uh,
• 3:44
  Speaker 1: the basic one, I'm pretty sure. That's when I knew
• 3:47
  Speaker 1: he was lying to me. Anybody who's ever touched a
• 3:49
  Speaker 1: solar setup can't stop talking about watts and charge times.
• 3:53
  Speaker 1: This guy was 100% guessing at all the answers, telling
• 3:56
  Speaker 1: me what I wanted to hear. So again, the alarm
• 3:59
  Speaker 1: bells start going off in my head. Look, I can't
• 4:03
  Speaker 1: really help you, I told him. You should probably just
• 4:05
  Speaker 1: go talk to the hardware store in town. There's a
• 4:07
  Speaker 1: solar company too. He leaned on the doorframe. Just five minutes.
• 4:12
  Speaker 1: I'm not selling anything, I swear. I've been walking for hours.
• 4:17
  Speaker 1: That's when I realized just how dirty he was. From where?
• 4:21
  Speaker 1: I asked. Down by the wash? That's ten miles away.
• 4:26
  Speaker 1: He shrugged at me. I get around. I was about
• 4:31
  Speaker 1: to shut the door when I heard something faint from
• 4:32
  Speaker 1: the far side of the house. A scrape like a
• 4:35
  Speaker 1: shoe-brushing stucco. I felt it more than I heard it.
• 4:40
  Speaker 1: He caught my pause. You okay? He asked me. Yeah,
• 4:46
  Speaker 1: I said. Are you alone? He smiled again. Of course
• 4:51
  Speaker 1: I am. The sound came once more, softer this time,
• 4:56
  Speaker 1: window glass shuffling. Someone was out back. I think you
• 5:01
  Speaker 1: should go, I said. He tilted his head, listening into
• 5:04
  Speaker 1: my house. You got somebody else here? That's none of
• 5:09
  Speaker 1: your business. Okay, sorry, I didn't mean to pry. But
• 5:15
  Speaker 1: he didn't move, he just stood there watching my face,
• 5:17
  Speaker 1: waiting for any kind of sign. His fingers flexing at
• 5:19
  Speaker 1: his waist, I could see the dirt under his nails,
• 5:22
  Speaker 1: caked all black. Look, I said. It's getting late and
• 5:28
  Speaker 1: I don't let strangers hang around after dark. He didn't
• 5:32
  Speaker 1: back off. He only responded back with, It's lonely, doesn't it?
• 5:39
  Speaker 1: I'm fine with lonely. I bet you hear weird and
• 5:42
  Speaker 1: strange things out here. Yeah, well, nothing I can't handle.
• 5:48
  Speaker 1: That air between us tightened. He shifted his weight, getting
• 5:51
  Speaker 1: ready to push. I felt it in my gut. Back up,
• 5:56
  Speaker 1: I said to him. Come on, ma'am, I'm not going
• 5:59
  Speaker 1: to hurt you. Back up. His smile faltered. Do you
• 6:07
  Speaker 1: really think you're safe out here? Immediately after, he lunged forward,
• 6:11
  Speaker 1: fast and desperate. The chain caught the door halfway, snapping tight,
• 6:15
  Speaker 1: and I slammed it shut with everything I had. His
• 6:18
  Speaker 1: fingers were in there when it hit, crushing under the
• 6:20
  Speaker 1: weight of the door. That sound that came out of
• 6:23
  Speaker 1: him didn't even sound human, it was high, wet, and furious.
• 6:26
  Speaker 1: He yanked, but I leaned my shoulder into the door.
• 6:28
  Speaker 1: I was not letting him have his hand back. Get
• 6:31
  Speaker 1: off my porch! I screamed at him. He finally pulled back,
• 6:36
  Speaker 1: leaving streets of blood on the wood. Eli! Eli, come
• 6:40
  Speaker 1: help me! He shouted. And that name turned my stomach.
• 6:45
  Speaker 1: There was another one. I ran through the kitchen, down
• 6:48
  Speaker 1: the hall, and the back window, the one by my bedroom,
• 6:50
  Speaker 1: was two inches open, and the screen bent inward. A
• 6:54
  Speaker 1: man's face was hovering there, pale and pocked with sores,
• 6:57
  Speaker 1: eyes very dilated. He was real skinny, beard patchy, wearing
• 7:02
  Speaker 1: a stained wife beater. He froze when he saw me,
• 7:05
  Speaker 1: then tried to shove himself through. Get out! I screamed,
• 7:10
  Speaker 1: grabbing the gun from the drawer. A short barrel... It
• 7:17
  Speaker 1: looked like a cannon up close. It was my snake
• 7:19
  Speaker 1: gun around the property, something I usually use to get
• 7:22
  Speaker 1: rid of the pests. I pointed it dead center at
• 7:24
  Speaker 1: his chest. He stopped moving. His mouth opened, but no
• 7:28
  Speaker 1: sound came out. Then he smiled the most hateful smile
• 7:32
  Speaker 1: I've ever seen. He said you were going to be easy,
• 7:37
  Speaker 1: he muttered. Move away from my window or I'll put
• 7:40
  Speaker 1: a hole in your lungs. He held up his hands half-lapping.
• 7:46
  Speaker 1: We were just looking around. No need to get angry.
• 7:51
  Speaker 1: I cocked the hammer, and the sound went through the
• 7:53
  Speaker 1: house and wiped that stupid grin off that asshole's face.
• 7:58
  Speaker 1: He stumbled backwards, tripping over something outside, then took off
• 8:01
  Speaker 1: towards the ridge. I ran to the front and slammed
• 8:04
  Speaker 1: that extra deadbolt, then grabbed my phone and dialed 911.
• 8:07
  Speaker 1: Of course, it took forever for the dispatcher to answer me. 911,
• 8:14
  Speaker 1: what's your emergency? There's two men on my property, I said.
• 8:18
  Speaker 1: One tried to break in. The other, he's bleeding bad.
• 8:21
  Speaker 1: They're still out here somewhere. Ma'am, where are you located?
• 8:27
  Speaker 1: I gave her my location twice, and she told me
• 8:29
  Speaker 1: the sheriff's was sending units from town, but it'd take
• 8:31
  Speaker 1: at least 30 minutes to get here. And out here,
• 8:34
  Speaker 1: 30 minutes is a lifetime. It's actually the only real
• 8:37
  Speaker 1: danger when living out here. I'd heard about a neighbor
• 8:40
  Speaker 1: out in the desert having a stroke, and he died
• 8:42
  Speaker 1: because it took the ambulance too long to get there.
• 8:46
  Speaker 1: Stay inside. Keep your doors locked, the dispatcher said. Already done.
• 8:52
  Speaker 1: I walked my house with the gun in one hand
• 8:53
  Speaker 1: and the phone in the other, breathing like I just
• 8:56
  Speaker 1: run some kind of marathon. I watched the windows and
• 8:58
  Speaker 1: checked every lock twice. The sun was now gone, the
• 9:02
  Speaker 1: light turning red across the desert. Through the kitchen window,
• 9:06
  Speaker 1: I saw them again, both men standing at the edge
• 9:08
  Speaker 1: of my property. The clean one was clutching his hand,
• 9:11
  Speaker 1: holding a rag around it. The thin one had his
• 9:13
  Speaker 1: arm around him like they were some kind of couple
• 9:16
  Speaker 1: of stooges. They were speaking back and forth, but too
• 9:19
  Speaker 1: far away for me to hear what they were actually saying.
• 9:22
  Speaker 1: Then they both turned back toward the house. The clean
• 9:25
  Speaker 1: one raised his hand and flipped me off, and the
• 9:27
  Speaker 1: other followed suit. They stood there for a long moment,
• 9:31
  Speaker 1: silhouettes against the dying light, then started off west, toward
• 9:34
  Speaker 1: the Badlands. Away from town or any semblance of civilization,
• 9:40
  Speaker 1: and seeing them walk that way haunts me still to
• 9:43
  Speaker 1: this day, because in my heart, I can't fathom where
• 9:46
  Speaker 1: they were going or what they could have possibly been
• 9:48
  Speaker 1: waiting for them out there. I watched until they disappeared
• 9:51
  Speaker 1: over the bridge. I kept the lights off and the
• 9:55
  Speaker 1: curtains open, pacing from window to window, gun in hand.
• 9:59
  Speaker 1: The desert looked flat. and harmless, but every bush now
• 10:01
  Speaker 1: looked like it could move. Every gust felt like and
• 10:04
  Speaker 1: sounded like footsteps just outside. The dispatcher called twice to
• 10:09
  Speaker 1: check in, and both times she told me the same thing.
• 10:12
  Speaker 1: Hope's on the way. And both times I told her
• 10:14
  Speaker 1: I was fine, but it still felt like the walls
• 10:16
  Speaker 1: were closing in. I continued to sweep the house, bathroom,
• 10:21
  Speaker 1: spare room, pantry, then checked every door a third time.
• 10:24
  Speaker 1: The front doorknob was streaked with blood and I didn't
• 10:27
  Speaker 1: clean it off. I wanted proof that any of this
• 10:30
  Speaker 1: actually happened. Outside, the wind picked up and my floodlight
• 10:34
  Speaker 1: on the pole buzzed and flickered, throwing short shadows across
• 10:37
  Speaker 1: the porch. I raised my gun, aiming more at nothing
• 10:40
  Speaker 1: but the darkness beyond my fence. Then, slowly, headlights came
• 10:45
  Speaker 1: into view, two vehicles bumping down the dirt road. Sirens off,
• 10:49
  Speaker 1: dust halos around them. I set the gun on the
• 10:51
  Speaker 1: table and met them at the door when they knocked.
• 10:55
  Speaker 1: Three deputies came inside with flashlights and checked my house,
• 10:58
  Speaker 1: the sheds, and the perimeter. Found prints and some boot
• 11:01
  Speaker 1: and some bear. One deputy followed a trail halfway to
• 11:05
  Speaker 1: the aurora, but it ended in the sand. Well, they're gone,
• 11:11
  Speaker 1: he said to me, but you did the right thing.
• 11:13
  Speaker 1: Handled that pretty damn well. I asked if they'd come
• 11:17
  Speaker 1: back and he looked at me inside. Probably not. But
• 11:22
  Speaker 1: keep your gun close and keep all your doors locked.
• 11:26
  Speaker 1: They left around midnight. I locked the door behind them
• 11:28
  Speaker 1: and listened to the silence slowly return. The next morning,
• 11:32
  Speaker 1: I drove into town. Bought a new lock for the
• 11:34
  Speaker 1: back door, some motion lights, and a 12 gauge with
• 11:37
  Speaker 1: a short barrel and smooth action. I bought some more
• 11:40
  Speaker 1: cameras too, four of them, wireless with night vision. That weekend,
• 11:45
  Speaker 1: I mounted every single one. So the next time I
• 11:47
  Speaker 1: have a visitor like that, I'll see them way before
• 11:51
  Speaker 1: they actually knock on my door. We'd been living out
• 11:58
  Speaker 1: of the van for three weeks when we found the
• 12:00
  Speaker 1: river and the bluffs. Utah goes on forever if you
• 12:03
  Speaker 1: know where to look. We followed a rutted two-track past
• 12:06
  Speaker 1: a gate that didn't lock and drifted down into a
• 12:08
  Speaker 1: basin of red rock and cottonwoods. It was truly a
• 12:11
  Speaker 1: beautiful secluded stretch of desert. My girlfriend and I run
• 12:15
  Speaker 1: an off-grid vlog, nothing fancy. A couple of cameras, a drone, tripods,
• 12:20
  Speaker 1: mics with those fuzzy covers. We film what we use,
• 12:23
  Speaker 1: what we eat, where we sleep, all the ways it
• 12:26
  Speaker 1: goes wrong as well. People like the mistakes more than
• 12:29
  Speaker 1: they actually like the wins, and we earn that pretty
• 12:31
  Speaker 1: early on. I talk to the lens, and she shoots.
• 12:35
  Speaker 1: We edit in the dark on a folding table with
• 12:37
  Speaker 1: nothing but our power cell batteries. Those first few days
• 12:40
  Speaker 1: were really perfect out there. We filmed this camp kitchen
• 12:43
  Speaker 1: segment about cheap camp tacos, floated the river with our
• 12:47
  Speaker 1: sandals tied through our belt loops. We hiked the bluff trail,
• 12:50
  Speaker 1: breathless once at the top, and took a thumbnail photo
• 12:52
  Speaker 1: of us grinning like idiots at the valley wide open
• 12:55
  Speaker 1: behind us. At night we lay on the tailgate and
• 12:58
  Speaker 1: watched the satellites drift. There was this unbelievable amount of them.
• 13:02
  Speaker 1: Coyotes yip bar off and I slept like a baby.
• 13:06
  Speaker 1: I thought maybe we'd stay for a week, maybe two.
• 13:09
  Speaker 1: There was enough flat spots to move and camp every
• 13:12
  Speaker 1: few days. Enough deadfall for small fires. Zero service, so
• 13:16
  Speaker 1: no uploading shorts, just content creation and some light editing.
• 13:21
  Speaker 1: We met nobody. A couple of rigs passed high on
• 13:23
  Speaker 1: the distant ridge and then would vanish soon after. Otherwise,
• 13:27
  Speaker 1: it was pretty much all ours. On the third evening,
• 13:30
  Speaker 1: we lugged gear into the water for a golden hour shoot.
• 13:33
  Speaker 1: The sun slid to setting and then turned the cliff's
• 13:35
  Speaker 1: hopper on us. She waded up to her knees, laughing
• 13:38
  Speaker 1: and complaining, while I framed a long shot of the
• 13:40
  Speaker 1: bend where the river hooked north. The light hit something
• 13:43
  Speaker 1: across the canyon and flashed for just a second.' Did
• 13:47
  Speaker 1: you see that?' she asked me.' Probably a bottle or something,'
• 13:52
  Speaker 1: I said, squinting. I raised the camera, zoomed, and panned
• 13:55
  Speaker 1: along the opposite bluff. Cottonwoods hit most of the rim.
• 13:59
  Speaker 1: Then the sun broke through the gap and the glare
• 14:01
  Speaker 1: hit again. A flat plate of shine. Not a bottle,
• 14:04
  Speaker 1: but glass.' There, half-tucked beneath the trees, sat this black van.
• 14:09
  Speaker 1: No movement, no sound, just kind of there, where nothing
• 14:12
  Speaker 1: had been all week long. Watching the same view that
• 14:15
  Speaker 1: we were, or maybe watching us. At first, we honestly
• 14:21
  Speaker 1: didn't think much of it. People will come and go
• 14:23
  Speaker 1: and camp in strange spots all the time. Maybe they'd
• 14:26
  Speaker 1: come in from the other side, following some old mining
• 14:28
  Speaker 1: road that we didn't see. But the van didn't move
• 14:31
  Speaker 1: that night. No campfire, no music, no lantern glow. Just
• 14:35
  Speaker 1: a black box sitting in the dark across the canyon.
• 14:39
  Speaker 1: That following morning, still there. Creepy, she muttered, zooming in
• 14:44
  Speaker 1: with the telephoto. No plates, no windows either. That's really weird.
• 14:50
  Speaker 1: It has to be one of those converted rigs, I said.
• 14:53
  Speaker 1: Overlanders or something, you know? But even as the words
• 14:57
  Speaker 1: left my mouth, I knew I wasn't right. There was
• 15:00
  Speaker 1: no chairs, no gear, no solar panels, just the van,
• 15:03
  Speaker 1: and zero evidence of any kind of recreation being had.
• 15:09
  Speaker 1: We spent that day shooting content, filtering water, cooking beans,
• 15:12
  Speaker 1: setting up a tarp station, and then trying to forget
• 15:15
  Speaker 1: it all. By sundown, we'd convinced ourselves it really was nothing.
• 15:19
  Speaker 1: But as the canyon turned purple and the stars started
• 15:22
  Speaker 1: to burn through the haze, The air around us seemed
• 15:25
  Speaker 1: to change, and the wind stilled. It got really, really quiet.
• 15:29
  Speaker 1: Then came the lights. They weren't like planes or satellites.
• 15:33
  Speaker 1: They darted, stopped, dropped, and shot upward again in these
• 15:37
  Speaker 1: impossible bursts. Sometimes they glowed red, sometimes they glowed blue.
• 15:41
  Speaker 1: One flickered directly above the ridge, a jagged pulse that
• 15:45
  Speaker 1: reminded us of some kind of kaleidoscope. My girlfriend filmed
• 15:48
  Speaker 1: until her battery died, but when we checked the footage,
• 15:51
  Speaker 1: there was nothing, just black sky. Maybe some kind of reflection?
• 15:57
  Speaker 1: I said. Reflection of what? She asked me. It's a canyon.
• 16:02
  Speaker 1: There's nothing out here to reflect off. No, maybe like
• 16:06
  Speaker 1: some kind of atmospheric thing. Our lenses don't have what
• 16:09
  Speaker 1: it takes to pick it up. And that's when we
• 16:12
  Speaker 1: both noticed the movement across the ravine. The van's side
• 16:15
  Speaker 1: door was now open. Figures moving in and out. Three,
• 16:19
  Speaker 1: maybe four. They carried tripods and something that looked like
• 16:22
  Speaker 1: a large antennae. One of them kept sweeping the lights
• 16:25
  Speaker 1: with what looked like binoculars. Another stood on the roof
• 16:28
  Speaker 1: of the van with something that glowed faintly green. Their
• 16:31
  Speaker 1: setup looked far too advanced for some kind of meteor watching.
• 16:34
  Speaker 1: Way too organized. I raised my flashlight and clicked it twice,
• 16:39
  Speaker 1: a friendly signal. Not nothing back. They didn't react. They
• 16:42
  Speaker 1: didn't even look our way. Hey! I yelled across the gap,
• 16:49
  Speaker 1: my voice echoing off the stone. The figure on the
• 16:52
  Speaker 1: roof froze, and just for a second, they turned away,
• 16:55
  Speaker 1: stepping down from the van. We went back inside the
• 16:59
  Speaker 1: tent not long after, and neither of us could really sleep.
• 17:02
  Speaker 1: The air was heavy, like right before a storm. Every
• 17:05
  Speaker 1: time I close my eyes, I see those lights again, jerking, twitching, zigzagging,
• 17:09
  Speaker 1: across the sky like fireflies out on a wire. Around
• 17:13
  Speaker 1: 3 a.m., I woke up to the sound of a
• 17:15
  Speaker 1: low hum. It wasn't close, but steady and mechanical. I
• 17:19
  Speaker 1: unzipped the flap, and the van's headlights were On now,
• 17:22
  Speaker 1: dimmed and pointed toward the sky. Those strange lights were back,
• 17:26
  Speaker 1: more of them, scattered and moving a lot faster. My
• 17:30
  Speaker 1: girlfriend sat up beside me, whispering, Oh my god, they're
• 17:33
  Speaker 1: right above us. And they were. They were everywhere. I
• 17:38
  Speaker 1: watched one of the men across the canyon raise up
• 17:40
  Speaker 1: his equipment, and that hum quickly grew louder. The air
• 17:44
  Speaker 1: felt staticky, hair rising even. And then, just as suddenly,
• 17:48
  Speaker 1: everything kind of blinked out. The hum, the lights, the motion, gone.
• 17:52
  Speaker 1: And that van went dark again. They hauled their stuff
• 17:55
  Speaker 1: back into the van and went back to being quiet.
• 18:00
  Speaker 1: We slept at dawn, woke late, and found it parked
• 18:02
  Speaker 1: in the exact same spot. No visible equipment, no people,
• 18:05
  Speaker 1: no nothing. It went on like that for three more nights.
• 18:10
  Speaker 1: Every evening around 10, the sky erupted with that strange activity.
• 18:14
  Speaker 1: Every morning, silence and emptiness. And our camera's Never caught
• 18:17
  Speaker 1: a thing. No lights, nothing but blank footage. Phones, GoPros,
• 18:21
  Speaker 1: even the drone, all completely useless. It was as if
• 18:24
  Speaker 1: the phenomenon wasn't happening at all. Except that we were
• 18:28
  Speaker 1: seeing it, clear as day, but only with our eyes.
• 18:32
  Speaker 1: We started rationing the food and water early on, just
• 18:34
  Speaker 1: in case. I wanted to leave, but she said, nobody's
• 18:37
  Speaker 1: going to believe us if we don't get some kind
• 18:39
  Speaker 1: of proof. So we stayed. Maybe there's some kind of meteorologist...
• 18:45
  Speaker 1: I offered, studying something rare, you know, like all lightning.
• 18:49
  Speaker 1: She stared at me like I was full of shit,
• 18:51
  Speaker 1: and maybe I was. I didn't argue. I started keeping
• 18:54
  Speaker 1: the hatchet beside the sleeping bags, and I noticed her
• 18:57
  Speaker 1: phone was always in her pocket now. The final night
• 19:01
  Speaker 1: we were out there was probably the worst. The lights
• 19:03
  Speaker 1: appeared earlier just after sunset, flickering right above the ridge.
• 19:08
  Speaker 1: The van's side door was wide open, silhouettes pacing in
• 19:11
  Speaker 1: the glow of red headlamps. The hum was deeper this time,
• 19:14
  Speaker 1: vibrating through the ground like the base of an approaching train.
• 19:18
  Speaker 1: I stepped out with the camera anyway. This is night four,
• 19:22
  Speaker 1: I whispered, trying to keep my hands steady. The van's
• 19:25
  Speaker 1: active again. Unknown equipment, three subjects, maybe four, tracking lights
• 19:30
  Speaker 1: in the sky. Can't explain the silence out here. There's
• 19:32
  Speaker 1: no wind. There's no animals. Nothing. Behind me, my girlfriend whispered,
• 19:39
  Speaker 1: you're looking this way. And they were. every single head
• 19:43
  Speaker 1: turned toward us in this perfect unison, red lamps blinking
• 19:46
  Speaker 1: like eyes. One of them raised something, binoculars or a
• 19:50
  Speaker 1: scope and a moment later our tent lights flickered and
• 19:53
  Speaker 1: died the air snapped cold the camera shut off in
• 19:56
  Speaker 1: my hand it was like we had been hit with
• 19:58
  Speaker 1: some kind of EMP blast we didn't speak again until
• 20:03
  Speaker 1: morning and when the sun came up the van still
• 20:06
  Speaker 1: hadn't moved and there was again no sign of those
• 20:08
  Speaker 1: people That's when we made the decision to cross the
• 20:12
  Speaker 1: canyon that night and see for ourselves what was going
• 20:15
  Speaker 1: on inside that van. It took nearly 45 minutes to cross.
• 20:20
  Speaker 1: The bluff walls were like ribs around the basin, and
• 20:23
  Speaker 1: every sound that we made, every scrape, every breath, seemed
• 20:26
  Speaker 1: to echo on and on. We didn't talk. We didn't
• 20:29
  Speaker 1: really need to. All that mattered was finding out who
• 20:32
  Speaker 1: these people were and what they were doing out here.
• 20:36
  Speaker 1: When we finally crested the other side, the van sat
• 20:39
  Speaker 1: about 50 yards off. Its headlights were dead, windows blacked out.
• 20:43
  Speaker 1: Up close, it didn't look new. It was dented, rust
• 20:46
  Speaker 1: bleeding through the paint near the door handles. There was
• 20:49
  Speaker 1: still no sound and still no movement. We crouched behind
• 20:52
  Speaker 1: this boulder, and my girlfriend whispered over to me, Maybe
• 20:56
  Speaker 1: they left? I was about to agree, but the van's
• 21:00
  Speaker 1: door slid open with that loud shunk. A flashlight hit
• 21:04
  Speaker 1: us full in the face. Stop right there, a man barked.
• 21:09
  Speaker 1: His voice was raspy. I froze, hands instinctively going up.
• 21:15
  Speaker 1: He stepped closer, the beam shaking in his grip. The
• 21:17
  Speaker 1: light caught his face for just a second. Stringy mullet,
• 21:20
  Speaker 1: missing teeth, red-rimmed eyes. Tattoos climbed up his neck like veins,
• 21:25
  Speaker 1: faded and ugly. He held a rifle, pointed at the ground,
• 21:28
  Speaker 1: but angled it enough that one wrong move would make
• 21:31
  Speaker 1: it level. Uh, hey, we're just, uh... I started, but
• 21:35
  Speaker 1: he cut me off. You shouldn't be here. Turn around now.
• 21:41
  Speaker 1: Behind him, the other figures moved, loading up equipment into
• 21:43
  Speaker 1: the van. Tripods, long cases, coiled cables that glittered silver
• 21:47
  Speaker 1: in the light. None of them spoke or even looked
• 21:50
  Speaker 1: at us. Look, we just wanted to know what you were...
• 21:54
  Speaker 1: He stepped to us again, jabbing the barrel in my chest.
• 21:57
  Speaker 1: This ain't none of your business, boy. You get back
• 22:00
  Speaker 1: to your side before you make it fatal. My girlfriend
• 22:03
  Speaker 1: whispered that we were leaving. The man backed up without
• 22:07
  Speaker 1: lowering the gun. Good. Do that. He turned and shouted
• 22:11
  Speaker 1: something to the others, words I didn't quite catch, then
• 22:14
  Speaker 1: climbed in the driver's seat. The van roared to life,
• 22:17
  Speaker 1: yellow cones of the headlights hitting us in the face,
• 22:20
  Speaker 1: and for a second, the glare was completely blinding. When
• 22:23
  Speaker 1: my vision cleared, I saw them, three silhouettes in the cab,
• 22:26
  Speaker 1: all facing forward, motionless as mannequins. They reversed, spun out
• 22:32
  Speaker 1: onto the dirt road, and drove off without a word.
• 22:35
  Speaker 1: The hum was gone, The lights in the sky were
• 22:37
  Speaker 1: gone too, just black emptiness above us, and the sound
• 22:40
  Speaker 1: of the van slowly fading off into the desert. We
• 22:44
  Speaker 1: stood there for a long time, I think too shocked
• 22:47
  Speaker 1: to move or do anything, and when we finally made
• 22:49
  Speaker 1: it back to camp, dawn was breaking, washing the canyon
• 22:52
  Speaker 1: in that weak pink light. Everything felt strange, the tent,
• 22:57
  Speaker 1: the gear, even the river now to us. We packed
• 23:00
  Speaker 1: up in silence, loaded the truck, and left before the
• 23:03
  Speaker 1: sun even touched the ridges. Around a week later, I
• 23:08
  Speaker 1: went through every file, every clip. All of our footage
• 23:11
  Speaker 1: from those nights was either black or corrupted. No lights,
• 23:14
  Speaker 1: no van, not even our own voices. Absolutely no trace
• 23:18
  Speaker 1: of that night exists outside of the ones in our memories.