“Damn, I miss winter,” I muttered as I opened my eyes after a night of sweaty and uncomfortable sleep. It was hot again, as it always was since “the drop.” I twisted myself out of my hammock, strung up between two old, knotted pine trees, and walked down to the stream near my camp to wash the sleep from my eyes. It’s still early when I wake. Dew is thick on the grass, and the sun barely peeks over the tree line as I walk. Even this early in the morning, the heat and humidity are suffocating, but I’ve slowly acclimated over the 3 years since the drop. I often try remembering the seasons - spring, summer, fall, and winter. Winter and fall are harder to recall these days, but I can sometimes remember how the winter air felt on my skin and the first frost of fall.

  I consider myself to be “winter-hot,” meaning I look better with a few layers on. I’ve been told I’m decent-looking, almost 6 feet 5 inches tall, and well-built. My dark brown hair is getting long enough to tie back in a ponytail; I would get someone in the nearby settlement to cut it for me a couple of times a year, but with everyone so focused on the difficult task of staying alive, things like fashion sense take a back seat. I also sport a medium-length beard; I could say it was because shaving was a chore, but I just like how it looks. I was stocky before the drop, but not fat. I like to say I was a corn-fed country boy. I have leaned out quite a bit over the last few years but still consider myself larger than average.

  Before “the drop,” I would put on a light jacket or hoodie during the cooler months, and my confidence would skyrocket. But in the three years since “the drop,” we have only experienced hot, humid summers, and since we have no electricity, I hate it even more. When “the drop” happened, it caught everyone off-guard. Millions of orb-shaped objects fell from the sky, acting like electromagnetic pulses (EMPs) that killed power worldwide and fried every electrical grid in the world. Society broke down quickly, and everything humans built was gone in months. It would be easy to think that society could bounce back from something like the drop, but the reality is that nobody was prepared for a global event of this magnitude.

  Living alone for the last three years has made me appreciate the solitude. I was the typical mid-20s career guy before the drop. I had a degree in electrical engineering and an entry-level position with a company out of Dallas. It kept me busy and money in my pockets, but it wasn’t fulfilling; it wasn’t my dream but my dad’s dream for me. I longed for something that brought me purpose, something that allowed me to leave my mark on this world, but I soon found out I was just another guy from Texas who would work until I couldn’t and leave this world without ever making a lasting impact, I am nothing if not an optimist after all. I made my peace with that, though. I was doing better than many and had little to complain about, but then the drop happened.

  I remember it clearly; I was driving east on I-10, leaving a job south of Houston, heading to see my family for a weekend. The orbs burst through our atmosphere like hot coals through plastic, leaving flaming trails and smoke in their wake. They fell in every direction as far as the eye could see. There was an emergency broadcast on the radio, something to the effect of – Warning - several unknown objects of unknown origin have entered our atmosphere. Take shelter and wait for further instructions from local and state governments. That was the last radio signal anyone heard before everything went dark.

  There was no explosion, no sonic boom. In an instant, my truck went from running to dead(this phrase confused me) while parked on the shoulder. The engine, the radio, everything ceased. Down the interstate, cars collided as they lost power. A log-hauling semi-truck jackknifed on the westbound side, crashing into slowing cars. Above, a passenger plane descended toward Houston. It was apocalyptic chaos. That day, not just my world, but everyone’s world transformed.

  In this new world, forming close bonds with people is challenging, and I don’t have the luxury of family ties. I often thought about trying to find my family, but they lived a few hundred miles east of me in Louisiana, and the aftermath of the drop was mayhem. It was all I could do to keep myself alive for the longest time, much less think about traveling a couple hundred miles on foot with limited supplies. Aside from the challenge of making the trip on foot, riots and looters posed a constant threat. If the roving bands of thugs suspected you had something valuable, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill you and take it. My dad was always the type to prepare for the worst, and I hoped he and my family were okay. But I had no way of contacting them, and for all they knew, I was dead.

  After ‘the drop,’ billions of people died because society had become too dependent on technology. With the loss of electricity, most cities couldn’t get clean water; the food was gone in a matter of days with no shipments coming in, and people couldn’t survive. The elderly were the first to go, but others succumbed as well. Those casualties were based purely on the lack of infrastructure and the general population’s lack of preparation. To be fair, who prepares for alien technology falling from space and knocking out the entire world’s power grid?

  It happened in early March, three days after my 23rd birthday. Winter was in full swing in most of the US and many people couldn’t adjust to the sudden change in temperature from winter cold to 105-115 degrees Fahrenheit within a month. People got sick and couldn’t get water or medicine, and in many cases, the worst happened. The challenges of living in a world without the comforts of modern technology were immense, and many couldn’t adapt in such a short time.

  Looting and crime became rampant in densely populated areas. Most people realized they couldn’t survive the changes to the planet and fight gangs of criminals at the same time, so they found places outside the cities where they could get support from other like-minded individuals. The good people left, and the large cities became home to bandits and criminals. Outside the cities, settlements formed, and people banded together to rebuild. Over the next few years, these settlements grew and thrived as like-minded individuals found hope and made a new home.

  About a year after “the drop,” rumors spread that the government was trying to rebuild the power grid. People were hopeful, but after a year of waiting, the orbs suddenly powered up, and another EMP blast erupted worldwide. That was the end of it. No one heard anything else about it. People knew they were on their own if they wanted to survive.

  A year and a half after the drop, I found a small settlement in Southeast Texas. I mostly kept to the woods, camping, foraging, and fishing when I could to keep myself fed. I would check abandoned businesses and stores for supplies, but after a year and a half, most had been picked clean. I decided it was time to make a home with a small settlement of people I had bartered with. The settlement accepted me into their community easily enough. We all worked, we all helped each other out, and we did what was best for the well-being of the community. Still, I kept everyone at a safe distance.

  My home was in the woods near a small river, about 50 miles east of Houston. Despite the proximity of the gulf, I didn’t feel the urge to make the 60-mile trek just to see a dirty brown ocean. I constructed a small lean-to, but I preferred sleeping outside in a hammock due to the heat. With my engineering background, I contributed to the settlement’s various projects and traded my labor for food. I could fish in the river and set trotlines; there were always fish if you knew how to catch them. I did miss meat, though,and hunting wasn’t my forte, so I had to depend on the supplies the settlement offered if I wanted something other than fish. The settlement, now known as South Town, had established a thriving micro-economy. Its residents cultivated gardens and raised livestock, ensuring they had what they needed to survive, and I could get supplies as long as I had something to offer.

  Despite not living in the settlement, everyone knew me, and I was there almost every day. So today, like most days, I trekked the half mile through the woods, emerging into the outskirts of the settlement, ready to see if any help was needed or any trades were available.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Andrew! Glad to see you’re still alive!” CJ said.

  Craig Jennings was about 30 years old, the same age as me. He lived in the area before the drop, and we had spent many days together since. He was balding, a little overweight, and would just about sell his right leg for a cigarette. Unfortunately, there weren’t any more cigarettes. He was also my best friend.

  “What’s up, CJ? I decided to come in and do some shopping,” I laughed as I tugged on my mostly empty pack.

  “Well, I figured you would have people to do that for you,” CJ joked as he walked up and fist-bumped me. “Hey, have you heard about the orbs? People have been saying that they are acting weird,” he said excitedly, because let’s face it, Orb news, as scary as they are, is still news.

  “Yeah, God forbid the giant metal orbs that fell from space act weird,” I joke, rolling my eyes. “What exactly do you mean when you say weird?” I asked turning to face CJ, “They are just there; other than the electrical fields surrounding them, they don’t do anything.”

  “Well, I haven’t seen it myself,” CJ said as he looked around and leaned in, “but some of the other guys said they were out in the woods the other day, near the one southeast of the settlement, and it started acting weird. It was making some noises, and the field was like… pulsing.”

  I look over at CJ, seeing his excitement. He loves talking about the Orbs. “Look, bro, the best thing everyone can do is avoid those things. We still don’t know anything about them. I would love to know what they are as much as anyone, but it isn’t worth the risk,” I said as I turned and started walking toward the butcher shop.

  “Hey, wait! Where are you going?” CJ asked, jogging to catch up with me.

  “I’m just going to see the butcher; I can’t do fish again, bro. I’m gonna lose my shit if I don’t get something else soon,” I said, shaking my head in disgust.

  “Look, Andy, a few of us talked about going there tonight to check it out. You wanna come with us?” CJ asked as he followed me into the butcher shop.

  I know he won’t let this go, and I don’t have plans anyway, so I relent. “Look, I have some things to do here, then I’ve got to go inspect the new water wheel,” I pointed at the old water wheel on the edge of the settlement,” That damn thing hasn’t worked right yet,” I run my hands through my hair in contemplation, “I don’t think the flow is strong enough. When I finish that, we can meet at my place.” I saw the look of satisfaction on CJ’s face and could tell my relent made him feel better about his plans.

  A few hours later, I was back at my paddock enjoying the bounty I got from the butcher shop, “God, I love bacon,” I said, mouth watering from the smell of the meat sizzling in the cast iron skillet over my small cooking fire. The local butcher had been working on perfecting it, and I’d say he had just about nailed it. So, between the bacon and a few eggs I traded for, I had one of the best meals I’d eaten in weeks.

  I looked up to see CJ walking down the well-worn path to my camp. “Ready to go?” Craig asks with a nervous smile.

  He looked around, chasing the smell of the bacon I had just eaten. “I’m guessing you didn’t save a piece of bacon for a fat boy?” Craig joked.

  “Sorry man, I only had enough for one,”I smiled smugly, enjoying the last tastes of salty goodness on my tongue. “Alright, let’s head that way. Just let me grab my pack.”

  I almost always carried my pack wherever I went. After the drop, I decided I would never be caught off guard again, so I always took a go bag with me wherever I went. It didn’t have much in it: some MREs that I had hidden away, a couple of bottles of water, some basic first aid supplies, candles, and a flare gun that I found in an old boat about a year ago.

  “You don’t have to bring that pack with you everywhere you go, weirdo,” CJ said, “It’s only a 30-minute walk. I mean seriously, bro, between you living outside the settlement and carrying that pack with you everywhere you go, it’s no surprise you don’t have a girl.”

  It was true, I didn’t have a girlfriend. Sure, I had relationships before the drop, but with my job and travel, building meaningful, long-lasting relationships was hard. After the drop, it became more about the fear of trying to keep someone else besides myself alive. Don’t get me wrong, there were women in the settlement; hell, there were even attractive women my age. Some were widows, and some were just stragglers who had wandered in over the last three years, but I kept to myself, and I liked it like that.

  After about half an hour of avoiding CJ’s questions about my love life, we were getting close to the orb. “What the hell is that?” I asked, “Is that the orb lighting up the woods like a disco ball??”

  Emerging from the dense pine forest, I spotted it from approximately 150 yards away. The orb, roughly the size of a two-story building, emitted a glow. The lights displayed a pattern, though it was unfamiliar to me. It consisted of geometric shapes and indecipherable scripts that made no sense.

  “I told you!” CJ yelled, “These Damn things have been dead for three years, and now all of a sudden, they light up like Christmas trees?! What the Hell do you think it means?”

  I slowed down and nervously crouched lower to the ground. “Look, man, I don’t think we should mess around with this thing. We don’t even know what they are, and we sure as hell don’t know what they do; all we know is that they dropped from the sky, and the world ended.”

  CJ crawled up and stopped beside me, squinting to try and make sense of what he was seeing.

  “Maybe we should head back and tell the mayor. He can send a patrol out here to take a look,” I whisper.

  “Forget the mayor, Andy. He’s not going to send anyone out here. You know he is scared to death of these things,” CJ replied.

  I look nervously up at the glowing orb. It begins to buzz, and arcs of electricity begin to spring from its surface in every direction, and that’s when I hear it.

  It’s important to note that the orbs have been silent since their arrival. There were tales of science teams attempting to analyze them initially, but sadly, no discoveries were made. Now, they stand with their fields active, enigmatic monuments to the world as it once was.

  “What in the hell is that?!” CJ exclaimed as he fell backward. “It’s making a noise. Do you hear that, Andy? It’s making a noise!”

  “Calm down!” I said, putting one hand on CJ’s chest to calm him. The noise was an electronic buzz like a copy machine scanning a piece of paper, just way louder. It felt like it was scanning my bones; I could feel it in my teeth.

  “Maybe we should check it out,” I said, inching ever so slightly closer.

  CJ just looked at me like I asked to cut his left hand off, “Jesus, man, the alien orb thingy starts glowing and making noise, and now you’re interested?”

  “Fair point, but if these things were going to kill us, don’t you think they would’ve done it by now?” I said as I stood up to a crouch and started slowly walking toward the glowing, humming orb.

  Within minutes, we were within 25 feet of the orb. Contrary to my expectations of heat, it was exceedingly cold. The surrounding air was as chilled as an AC compressor in the middle of a Texas summer. A delicate fog emanated from it, blanketing the ground in every direction.

  “This is getting weird,” CJ said, “What do you think is happening?”

  “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s waited three years to do it. I’m gonna get a closer look; I don’t think it will hurt us,” I say as I step closer to the orb.

  “There is no way in hell I’m going any closer to that thing, Andy,” CJ said. “It came from space; for all we know, there are aliens inside it just waiting to kill us! This is a bad idea, man.”

  CJ was getting more nervous by the second. He was pacing back and forth, pointing at the orb and talking to himself.

  Jesus, he is losing it, I think to myself.

  “Look, let’s just see if anything happens when we get closer, If it starts to react, or anything happens, we book it back to the settlement and tell the mayor,” I say, turning to Craig and putting one hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down.

  “I’m not touching that thing, Andy, and you shouldn’t either,” CJ said, waving his hands and shaking his head emphatically.

  He was right, of course, but an overwhelming urge to touch the orb overcame me. It didn’t make sense; I usually avoided these orbs, yet something was drawing me in, igniting my curiosity. I wasn’t sure if CJ felt the same pull, but my only thought was to place my hand on it. As I neared, the scrolling symbols halted, the humming stopped, and the orb began to levitate. Witnessing the giant silver orb defy gravity was disconcerting, and CJ began to panic.

  “Fuck this Andrew, I’m outta here!” CJ yelled. He quickly spun and started to run away from the orb. I could hear him running, dry leaves and branches cracking under his feet, but I couldn’t look away.

  As the orb hovered in front of me, I felt drawn to it, not with fear but with a mesmerizing pull, like a moth to a flame. I reached out slowly, setting aside the primal urge to flee and the internal screams to escape. My body overruled my mind, and my hand edged nearer to the orb. Approaching within inches, a cold burn tingled through my fingertips. I flinched at the spike of cold but ignored it and pushed my hand closer. The moment my fingers grazed the metallic sphere, a robotic voice began to speak...

  “Welcome to the Crawl - Participant Andrew Dawes,”

  And immediately, everything went black.