The God Incident

He looked out the window. The view of the Strip was excellent. Caesar’s Palace, Bellagio, Aria - everything seemed perfect. He felt bad for what he was about to do. 

Well, he didn’t really feel anything, but he wished he would. 

Okay, so he really didn't wish it either, but he could imagine the feeling. 

More relevantly, he acknowledged that his following actions may, or may not, cause a chain of events which may, or may not, affect the perfection of his favorite city on Earth - a planet he wasn’t that crazy about anyway.

He turned his back to the view, and faced the center table of his $20,000 per night suite (which he was surprised to find wasn't the most expensive suite on the Las Vegas Strip). The money wasn’t an issue, obviously. In fact, the hotel staff wasn’t even aware who was staying in their Penthouse suite for the past week. He had made sure that the room was booked through a random-by-design array of on-line and on-land servers and was positive it wouldn’t be tracked back to him - which was impossible by any means anyway - but he enjoyed the process nonetheless. The beauty is in the little things.

On the center table, which on a closer look revealed the hand-carved work of underaged children from a small Asian country (another day perhaps, he thought), was placed a high definition video camera, which was also a phone and an internet-connected device.

He had asked for a video camera but apparently there weren't many "It's just a camera"-like devices left on this planet.

"So it's a camera?" he asked the self-titled "genius" at the fruit store in the Caesar Shoppes. 

"Well, yes, the best in the market!" the Genius replied.

"But it's called an iPhone."

"Yes it is."

"If it's such a great camera why isn't it called an iCamera?"

"Because it's primarily a phone," the Genius replied.

"Even though it's the best camera?"

"Yes," replied the confused and slightly irritated Genius - two emotions he was contractually not allowed to experience or exhibit according to the employee manual. 

"Do humans---I mean people, often use a device for a purpose that isn't it's primary or namesake one?"

"I...guess so." 

"Interesting. Well, Genius...," he looked at his name tag, "Randy, I don't need the phone. Do you have an iPhone without the phone? Perhaps an iCamera? I'll take one of those. Also, where do you keep the apples? I'll take a dozen of those, too, seeing that I'm already in this store and I've never actually had one."

That happened 6 days ago. He had just arrived on Earth, and had yet to study the planet completely. Now he knew what an iPhone was, and how humans don't always give themselves titles suggesting their intelligence and then wear it as a T-shirt. 

He glanced outside the window again. The position of the rising sun revealed the time to be 0545 hours in Earth Pacific time. The clock on his left confirmed it.

Time. The one dimension that shouldn’t be measured.

He picked up the camera and set it up facing another hand-carved chair. After adjusting the zoom such that it only had the chair in focus, he sat down, mid-frame.

Moment of truth, he thought.

He had fifteen minutes in Earth time. That was more than he required, but he knew that if he waited any longer he would end up postponing the task another day. The day before he had given up the idea at 0555 hours, and the previous day at 0553 hours. Each of those times he had decided that he would be better off enjoying another day at his favorite spot in the hotel - the Casino floor. He had no interest in gambling of course - one wouldn’t be when they are oblivious to the concepts of luck or chance - it was only the thought of seeing people behave casually and normally that made him put off the task for another day. He particularly enjoyed changing the results of the games and machines just to see how the humans reacted. On his first night at the slots in Caesar's Palace, he discovered how the slot machines were rigged to only pay out the jackpot once every 5 years. Assuming this was a mechanical issue, he fixed the issue and some lucky fellow won the $3 Million jackpot.  

The casino floors will look different when I am done, he would tell himself on each day he gave up.

But not today, he reminded himself. Or, maybe? No. No.

They seem at their best in this city, for some reason. Raw. Unfiltered. Happy. 

If only the rest of the humans on this planet lived every day as if they were living in Vegas.

A place where time wasn't measured. Where it didn’t matter.

He faced the camera again.

Focus on the objective. This has to be done. Its been prolonged long enough.

Twelve minutes. The taping wouldn’t take more than 3 minutes. That gave him approximately three or four possible takes till the air-time.

Take one. Record.

With his eyes locked on the iPhone 6 Plus camera, he spoke.

“Hello, earth-residents. Don’t panic, but what I am about to say is going to change everything you know or believe . . . about everything.”

Chapter One

Adam looked at his watch. 4.35 PM. But that was the same time it had showed 10 minutes ago. And all day yesterday. And for the past week.

“I really need to fix this watch,” he said. He had always preferred to talk to himself out loud when there was no one around. He also did it when there were people around, just to make sure he heard himself. 

Adam looked around his living room.

“Where is the real time?”

He looked at the clock on the wall behind his desk. 9.30 AM.

“Okay, I am officially late.”

He walked out of his apartment, and down the stairs, and then outside on the street. It was not a pleasant day. Also, there was nobody around, which was weird because in the 10 years he had been living on this street he had never seen it quiet or deserted. 

A car zoomed past him, missing him by about 10 inches.

“That was close!” he yelled at no one.

He again looked to his left, and then his right. There was no car in the vicinity.

“Okay, better luck this time.”

Adam walked forward. Another car appeared in his peripheral vision. But this one didn’t miss him. Apparently the signal sent by his peripheral vision to his brain didn't reach before the car did.

This incident-turned-accident could have easily been avoided if he had fixed his watch and not wasted time looking for the time.

But that doesn’t matter anymore. Time doesn’t matter anymore.

Because about 36 seconds after the car hit him, the car was long gone. The driver seemed to have not reacted well to the situation. He had a working watch and needed to be somewhere else. So with what seemed like ease and efficiency, he drove away.

And then, just as easily and with just as equal efficiency, Adam died.

Chapter Two

Susan checked her watch. Thirteen minutes.

Damn it, she thought.

This was going to be her third late day at work. Dianna, her boss, wouldn’t be too pleased about that. As she was turning the corner, Susan, walking at approximately 5 miles per hour faster than the universally-accepted speed-walking speed, glanced at her Omega for the fourteenth time since she had left her apartment building. The Omega, a gift from Susan’s husband, didn’t please Dianna either.

Fourteen minutes.

Just as the seconds hand hit 9, while comfortably ignoring and passing the minute hand, which had been resting for a short while at 14, Susan, juggling in her head thoughts relating to - her new job and its steadily increasing sense of insecurity, her boss and her current single status, and perhaps the worry that her husband’s gift may be running slower than what the Omega company planned - crashed into another equally, if not more, mentally occupied fellow street walker (not that kind of street walker, just an actual person who is walking on the street) named Dave.

“Sorry!” Susan exclaimed, not knowing who or what she had just collided with or apologized to. I hope I didn't just apologize to a trash can, she thought.

“Yes,” whispered Dave.

“Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t see....” 

“Yes,” said Dave as he stood up and walked back in the direction that he came from.

The fall, and the subsequent rise, may not seem significant to Susan now, in fact she may have dreaded it, but it lead her to be among the first to witness what most news channels and newspapers would, in the following weeks to come, declare to be the greatest two minutes and 39 seconds of mankind.

But first, there was the sound.

Just as she was regaining her balance, a loud and deafening sound took over all the free particles in the air - the kind of sound a blow horn would make if it’s button was stuck, and if that blow horn was held to a microphone that was wirelessly connected to every speaker in Times Square - including the ones on everyone's phone or headphones.

The people in New York rarely stopped walking. And even as all the giant speakers in the entire Times Square were at full volume - subsequently bringing down all the hard earned work done by noise-pollution activists back to a zero - the people still kept walking.

Surprisingly, they all kept on walking during the entire 10.23 second length of the sound - which was accompanied by all the screen on Times Square going blank. They were all thinking about the sound - but it just wasn’t high up on their priority lists.

But they did stop walking - all together - when the sound stopped.

23,231 people joined Susan at staring at their closest giant screen to find themselves staring at two words.

Susan - who had just realized that the same watch that she had suspected was cheating on time was now completely still - had scraped her knee at the fateful moment and position where an extremely important and peculiar video feed was being broadcasted. All the screens at Times Square, which the previous second were occupied by drinks, cosmetics, pharmaceutical drugs, and glorified teen stars - were now all synchronized to a blank, white screen with following message at its center in black -

PLEASE WAIT . . .

The same message - along with the preceding music - was received by every screen and device (even the unplugged or switched off ones to the owners’ surprise, but that wasn’t going to be of much importance in about 3 minutes) in every city all over the world for a period of sixteen seconds.

On the seventeenth second, the message disappeared and was replaced by the seated view of what appeared to be a handsome man in his forties.

In those seven seconds Susan had dropped all the previous thoughts in her constantly thinking mind - all the spots were now being occupied (and constantly replaced by elimination) by all the various possibilities that one can come up with in seventeen seconds that would explain what was about to happen. Many ideas were stupid - like a man proposing to his girlfriend; but many were terrifying - like a man about to tell Susan and the people around her that they are going to be the target of a terrorist attack.

A lot of people on earth who were witnessing this event live - the exact number being 3 billion 932 million 312 thousand 101 (give or take 1 person) - went through a similar seventeen seconds mentally.

But none of the 20 billion-plus ideas (89% of which were repetitive) that the people of earth thought of and rejected as being the reason for this special broadcast was even close to what was actually going to happen in that eighteenth second.

Chapter Three

“Good Morning, people of Earth,” the man on the screen said with an american accent.

About 8,405 people standing around Susan sighed with relief that the man didn’t have a foreign accent.

Susan, on the other hand, was just about to bring back her previous thoughts back onto the priority list, clearly dismissing the event to be an elaborate advertisement for a men’s after shave. 

The things people do to get your attentions these days, she thought, and started picking up the spilled out contents of her handbag from the pavement. She was not at all interested in seeing what the giant two-dimensional face with the american accent had to say.

“Please don’t panic, but what I am about to say is going to change everything you know or believe . . . about everything,” the screen-man continued.

Many of the people thought of continuing with their day, but many were concerned with the word “panic”. So many chose to do one thing - giving this man about 10 seconds before they stopped listening or caring.

Susan didn’t hear most of it, as she was more focused on finding her notes for the meeting she was already 16 minutes late for - or as her Omega would say, still 14 minutes - but it was all registering in her subconscious.

“There is a lot to talk about, but not from me. My message is simple.”

3 seconds left on every person’s internal “let’s not panic” clock.

“Since I don’t hear any questions, I will begin with what I have planned to say.”

1 second. Almost everyone was about to give up and start walking.

“I am what most of you call God.”

Everyone changed their plan and instinctively decided to hear what the screen-man had to say.

Susan too.

Chapter Four

“I paused for 3 seconds so you would adjust your brains to the gravity of the situation. I’ll continue now - I am the one who created you and everything in this universe. I apologize for being late, but I wasn’t around for the past couple thousand years, and everything that has been happening on your planet just came to my attention. But don't be upset. I plan to make up for our lost time.”

Here's the thought in everyone's head: If he’s God, can he prove it? I don’t think s.....

“As for proof that I am what you call God, please look at your left hand.”

The unpracticed yet very successful synchronized turn and downward gesture of every head in the crowd at Times Square was like clockwork.

“You will see that it now contains a small USB pen drive. This pen drive contains, unique to each one of you, a first-person view of your entire life, till this very moment. Well, at least till 9:00 AM eastern time. For those of you who might be doubting my human-technology-know-how, you'll also find the files in that drive uploaded to all those cloud things you seem to be obsessed with. Might I add that they are hack-proof?"

Next group thought: I have to check this out. And change my password.

“But before all of you rush to check its credibility and change your cloud passwords, I have one more thing to say. And listen carefully...”

People have really stopped listening. Most people have already stopped looking at the man in the clouds and moved southward to their phones to check their digital clouds.

“...or I’ll make those drives and files disappear as fast as I put them in your hands.”

Group thought: Okay. Continue.

“Now listen carefully - as a gift to each and every one of you, for not paying attention to you and your planet these past few years, I grant you a second chance -  an extra life. Simply put, the next time you die, you won’t. Use it wisely. Or just be less clumsy or accidental.”

Group thought: What. The. Fuck. ?

“Thank you for your time, and please do continue with your day.”

Group thought: W H A T T H E F U C K?

“Oh, and by the way, it is true - I can hear and see everything. Bye!”

The screens at Time Square went blank again. What remained was the quietest, most still moment in New York history as 23,231 people stared blankly at each other. 

Chapter Five

Adam tried to open his eyes. But after trying for six seconds, he gave up the effort, realizing that his eyes were already open and it was the environment around him that was pitch dark.

Almost two seconds after that, everything around him appeared in a split second, and the room was illuminated by lights and sunshine from what could quite possibly be a rather long floor-to-ceiling window. He looked around and concluded that he was lying on his back staring at a ceiling which appeared to look like a very expensive installation. Why do people spend so much money on what their ceiling looks like?  

He sat up, focusing his view on his new surroundings, which comprised of an extremely soft Persian carpet, a giant TV screen on his right, definitely a rather long floor-to-ceiling window on his left, and a man, who appeared to be smiling, straight ahead sitting in what appeared to be a very comfortable chair.

“That's a really look question. Apparently this ceiling cost about $75,000. What's the point though? The only time you really see the ceiling is when you're lying down. And if you're lying down, you're probably sleeping and your eyes are closed. 

"You...did I say that out loud?"

"No. Would you believe that you are the first person to die in the past 45 minutes on this planet? I mean you people talk about these estimates and averages of how so many people are born or die every second. This definitely proves to be an exception. Too bad you don’t have someone who actually has access to the real live data.”

Adam attempted to say something, but was cut off on several occasions.

“...I just think that the fact that you people spend so much time and money predicting life and death really beats the point of living. What do you think, Adam?”

“How do you know my name? Who are y...”

“Oh, right. I got carried away. You see you are the first human that I have talked to - ever - as myself. I mean I've met and talked to several humans in the past week but I never really introduced myself as who I am.”

“And who - or what - would that be exactly...”

“What? You didn’t see the news in the past hour? I thought getting every screen in the world would have done the job,” He walked around, staring at the wall for a few seconds, then returning to his spot in front of Adam, “Well it turns out that your television set had a rat infestation.”

“Is that what it what...wait...how do you now that?”

“Oh, great! I get to say this out loud again. Okay, are you ready for this?" he said as he straightened himself and the air around him seemed to get brighter with a white light, "I am God."

Adam is quiet.

"And..." God continued, "you are...”

"Adam." said Adam as a reflex since his brain wasn't really helping him out at the moment.

"...Dead." replied God to finish his sentence.

“WHAT?!?! I.. you.. ?”

The silence was anti-climatic.

9 second later, and after checking his entire body to be without a scratch and - shockingly - without a heartbeat, Adam spoke. “Am I really dead?”

“That is true. Seems that you have outlived your first life. Pretty clumsy don’t you think?” He replayed it on the giant screen.

“First life? What is this place? Is this heaven?”

“Heaven? You humans aren’t going to leave that concept, are you? No, this isn’t “heaven”," God said using air quotes - which he was quite fond of at the moment -
"it’s the penthouse suite at the Wynn.”

“Vegas? You live in Vegas?” Adam said as he turned to the wall on his right. He noticed that the giant TV screen was a 100 inch LCD with the word “GOD” inscribed in gold instead of the regular ‘Sony’ logo, and said “To our almighty, from the Sony Corporation.”

“Great TV, isn’t it? You wouldn’t believe how many memories I had to wipe after the Japanese discovered where I live - all of that trouble to send me that. All in the past hour! You think they kept a gold plated “GOD” logo in stock?”

Adam just stared at the TV.

"Maybe they just brought it over from Steve Wynn's room." God said as he turned to the still-confused Adam.

“Anyway," the man who called himself God continued as he walked closer to the window, which for some reason no longer had glass and was completely open, "I liked what your people have done here in this city. Makes you want to not give up hope in your kind.” 

Adam was quiet for a long time, which was a few seconds more than the universally accepted uncomfortable silent pause. Finally, 42 seconds later, he spoke.

“So you're God. And I’m dead. What now?”

“Excellent choice of words. “What now”. You picked the right question that was necessary in this situation. You know if everyone on this planet asked themselves only that question instead of all that pseudo-moral crap they believe they should behave according to, you people would be a lot better off. Still, I like you. Which is something I wouldn’t say about like half of humans. That whole thing you guys made up about God loving all his children? Not really true. Anyway, unfortunately for you, you died at 09:45:04 AM, which means you have less than 15 hours to live through till the mechanism gets to you.”

Hmm, Adam thought. So the clock on the wall behind his desk didn’t work either.

“Wait...I don’t understand. What mechanism?” Adam said, a little louder this time.

“Ah, yes. You didn’t see the broadcast. You see Adam about an hour ago I spoke to your fellow humans briefly describing who I was and how I haven’t been able to give Earth as much time as I wanted to in the past couple thousand years or so...”

“What? What do you mean you ‘spoke’ to them? How?”

“Oh it was very exciting actually. I taped what I wanted to say and broadcasted it on every single screen over 2 inches in size on the entire planet. You wouldn’t believe the number of screens there are.” He motioned towards the screen,“See for yourself.”

He turned on the TV to CNN.

“...Our correspondent in Russia has just confirmed that the Russian Government wasn’t responsible for ‘The God Incident’ and in fact have no clue where the broadcast generated from. Our sources say that they are still tracing the signal and should have an answer as to which terrorist organization, or comedy act, is responsible for this terrible - or brilliant - joke.”

He switched the channel to BBC.

“...it is confirmed - the USB devices received by everyone are in fact authentic - a fact now confirmed by over 300,000 British citizens via live tweets of the contents. Viewers should be reminded that any video files shared online become public property...”

The channel changed to ABC News.

“...Welcome back, viewers. For those of you just tuning in, we have exclusive footage of the viral video popularly being referred as “God is American”...”

He switched it to Fox News.

“...Yes, Karen. One thing is for sure - God is American.”

God switched off the TV.

He turned his head to Adam, who stood next to the couch, motionless, his eyes fixed on the now blank TV screen. “So where was I? Ah, yes. I told them how I wasn’t around for most of their existence and how as a gift for the negligence which you people hardly noticed I was going to give everyone the gift of a second life. But as you can see,” he gestured to the screen, “they seem to have not taken me seriously.”

“Okay, well, you see, I believe you, but I think I’d rather go and think about this for a while.” Adam said as he motioned his body towards the door.

“Adam, don’t take this as a threat, but if you walk out this room you will actually be dead, and let me tell you right now that there is no after life of any sort. So if you would like to stop existing, go ahead.”

“I don’t understand," Adam shouted and then quickly reduced his volume after realizing that he was talking to the man-in-charge, "...All I remember is walking out of my building, and...”

“And the Audi R8 that hit you right as you stepped off the curb, yes, that’s when you died.”

Adam was quiet again, and this time the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable, mostly due to cheering sounds coming from the streets of Las Vegas from the open window-wall thing.

“So,” he spoke again, "why do you sound American?"

God was surprised by his question.

"I'm not."

"Obviously you're not, but why do you sound and look American?"

"Adam, have you heard of a TV show called 'Doctor Who'?"

"Of course. The Doctor and his TARDIS."

"What a great show! I just binged all seasons and I must say the British really know what they are doing with the concepts of time and space."

"You watched all 50 years of Doctor Who in a week?"

"Nope. Just yesterday. Did I forget to mention that the rules of time and space don't apply to me? I've had to watch a lot of your television and films to learn more about what you humans have been up to. Most of it is a complete waste of time," he paused, "for you, I mean - I don't have a time issue like you guys do. Anyway, you know how the Doctor and all the aliens and characters sound British?"

"Yeah, because his TARDIS translates everything."

"Precisely! So just think of what you're looking at..." he said as he gestured to his appearance, "...and hearing is just a translation. I don't actually look like this. I don't look like anything you've seen on your planet. Every culture and country heard and saw whatever they wanted to see. Americans want me to be, sound, and look American, so I'm American."

For the first time since Adam arrived at this penthouse suite at the Wynn in Las Vegas, his confusion has actually decreased. 

"That actually makes sense," he said, “so I have a second life. What happens next?”

"That, Adam," God started with the hint of a smile on his American face, "is where things will stop making sense."

Chapter Six

Susan checked her watch again. It said she was 14 minutes late, but it had been saying that for the past 10 minutes. She looked ahead, hoping to not repeat falling down again, but also hoping that if she did fall again, the fall would work its magic and start her expensive anniversary present again.

She entered her office, 27 minutes late according to the time everyone else in New York City was living in. She cursed the fact that something as linear as time was about to make her job non-linear.

Just as she was about to attempt to sit on her chair, Dianna, her boss, walked in.

“Before you try to explain to me why you are late, let me tell you that ‘The God Thing on TV’ excuse is already taken. And if you were on time, you would have been in this building, and on my news floor, looking at it just like everyone else here.”

Susan sank to her chair. The thought of a broken brand-new Omega had taken over all the seven thought-spots in her mind, kicking out the whole God Incident to number 1 in the wait-list. But after being mentioned by Dianna, the God Incident jumped up to number seven, replacing 'I wonder if Jake saved the receipt'.

Then she looked at her left hand, which she realized was locked in a fist for the past fifteen minutes. She opened her hand to reveal the small USB pen drive that had magically appeared into her hand just a few minutes ago. The pen drive now occupied thought-spot #1.

“Does it actually work?” She asked Dianna, who was partly concerned why her more-than-deserving-but-should-never-realize-that news anchor was speechless and staring right through her for the past twenty-three seconds.

“See it for yourself,” She said while she walked towards the door, not showing even a sliver of the minuscule concern she felt, “And report to my office when you’re done. We go live with whatever this is at 10, and I want it to be you who does it.”

Susan nodded blankly as she connected the pen drive to her iMac and clicked on the new icon on the desktop that read “Susan”.

It took her computer thirty seconds to load all the files - all video - the first named “August 11, 1985” and the last named “September 8, 2014”, today’s date. The bottom of the folder read : 10621 items.

Susan clicked on the video file “September 3, 2014”, the date of her first wedding anniversary, which was last week. The length of the video was 24 hours. She forward the time to 8PM and pressed play. 

On her screen, Susan saw Jake, her husband, sitting across the table talking to the apparent source of the video. On the left of the screen Susan saw a hand that was wearing her Omega.

I am the source! But how..is it..is it in my eyes?

She went back to the previous folder and clicked on August 11, 1996 - her eleventh birthday. January 27, 1998 - her first kiss. December 17, 2011 - the first time she met Jake.

Susan closed the video. She stared at the screen, as she saw the last date in the folder increasing in size. September 8, 2014. She clicked on the file and scrolled the video to 7AM, two hours ago. If this video was to be rated for content - it would have received an R for sexual content. Susan justified it as her way of thanking her husband for the Omega. Susan quickly learned that these video files also have audio, as she could hear her own voice enjoying what her husband was doing to the camera source. She muted the video.

“Oh dear God.”

She didn’t realize the irony overflowing from that sentence for another four seconds.

Chapter Seven

Jonas was not having a good day. Considering how great his life was just yesterday, this really wasn't where he thought he would be today. Here are four primary reasons for his bad day:

#1. He woke up with a pain in his right hand. The reason: he punched someone last night. This was the first time Jonas had punched someone. However, the pain he was feeling wasn't the usual post-punch kind. This punch was different because the person who received the punch had a metal plate inserted in his jaw - something Jonas believed he had a right to know before he punched him.

#2. He found out his wife of three months was still sleeping with her ex-boyfriend. The two of them were caught red-handed by Jonas last night. The aforementioned ex-boyfriend had broken his jaw several times before - not all punches to his face were by husbands of his ex-girlfriends - so at his last visit the doctor had to insert a metal plate to hold it together. One more punch and you'll be eating through a straw for the rest of your life Mickey, the doctor had said. That punch happened last night at Jonas' house. It's a good thing Mickey's always loved smoothies. 

#3. This reason isn't bad by itself - in fact it is the reason why Jonas was having an amazing time until last night - but it will be bad after reason #4: Jonas had just won a $3 Million jackpot at Caesar's Palace six days ago.

#4. He and his wife did not have a pre-nuptial agreement which worried Jonas as he drove to his new expensive divorce lawyer's office this morning. He had just left his new expensive assault & battery lawyer's office who assured him that for a big fee he can make the Mickey situation go away. Can he make Mickey stop screwing his wife? No. Jonas hadn't even gotten used to being rich yet, and he already had two more lawyers than he did last week. This whole experience made Jonas realize that being rich surely wasn't cheap. And now he might lose half his money because of his stupid decision to marry for love. He may not have earned this new-found riches, but neither had his lying cheating whore of a wife (his words). 

All that anger towards his soon-to-be-ex-wife and her full-metal-jawed-no-longer-an-ex-boyfriend led Jonas to not notice the man he ran over with his car.

Jonas stopped worrying about his wife, or Mickey, or his money, or his two lawyers. He stepped out of his new Audi R8 - thank god he leased it instead of paying upfront like his wife wanted - and checked the man's pulse.

The man's pulse - although non-existent - wasn't really relevant. His broken neck was enough to inform Jonas that he now had another reason to add to his 'bad day' list.

#5. Jonas had just killed a person. 

Jonas froze in his crouched-down stance for five seconds. He had planned to kill someone today - his wife and Mickey - which is why he had purchased a Colt .45 from his cousin's co-worker's nephew (who was an up-n-comer in the illegal weapon trade business in Brooklyn at the impressionable age of 15). The gun was just a cheaper option in case the lawyers were too expensive. But now he had given up the idea of killing them and was going to return the gun after he left the divorce lawyer's office. 

And now he needed a third lawyer to figure out this vehicular manslaughter situation. 

So instead of waiting for the police or any witnesses, Jonas got back in his car and started driving to his house. I've already killed one person, he thought. There's no way I'll let that whore and Two-Jaws spend my money as I rot in prison. Might as well kill those two and go to the lawyer after. At least I'll save the divorce and assault lawyers' fees!

He was actually feeling a lot better now. Money can buy happiness - saving all this money he didn't have a week ago will make Jonas very happy.

However, if Jonas had seen the video transmission played all over the world just an hour ago when he was busying buying a weapon from a guy with a minivan in the parking lot of a Sam's Club, he would have known that killing his wife and Mickey wouldn't really solve his problem - and that he will still need a divorce lawyer.

What Jonas really should have done was wait just a few seconds longer by the body. If he had, he would have witnessed the dead man wake up. 

Chapter Eight

Susan knocked on Dianna’s door. Susan kept her right hand in her pants pocket the entire walk from her office to Dianna’s office, holding the pen drive in a tight fist. I can never let this thing out of my sight.

She opened the door to find some people sitting around the small conference table in Dianna’s office.

“Susan, glad to know you still work here,” snorted Dianna.

“I’m sorry,” Susan said as she sat down on the nearest empty chair. “What’s the plan?”

“We start the program with clips from the video, and videos from the team’s USB, to prove its authentication,” Dianna said, without looking at Susan.

“Who is the volunteer?” Susan asked, hoping that someone had already been selected.

Dianna smiled her “Dianna-the-Demon Smile” - the one Susan knew was never good news for anyone but Dianna.

“Well we were just discussing how the last one to this meeting should have the privilege to share their life on live television. Congratulations.”

“Great. Happy to do it,” Susan said with as little excitement as she could.

“Now why don’t you hand over your USB to the intern and he can get started on finding the clips.”

Susan shot up from her chair, spilling her co-anchor Brian's coffee all over his suit.

“AHHH SUSAN!” Brian exclaimed.

“Brian, I’m so sorry! But Dianna, I really can just find the clips myself. Brian needs time to fix his suit anyway. Give be five minutes.”

Before hearing Dianna’s reaction, Susan exited the room, USB in hand.

Chapter Nine

Susan walked into the newsroom as everyone is getting ready to go live in two minutes.

“Susan! I was afraid you weren’t going to make it,” Dianna spoke into Susan’s earpiece from the control room. “Did you get the clips to graphics?”

“I did. We’re good to go.”

“What did you use?”

“I guess you’ll find out. There’s a reason why it’s called live television,” Susan said with a smirk, even though Dianna couldn’t see it.

“Well we’re going live in 90 seconds. Take your seat.”

Susan sat in her news anchor chair - a chair she had only been occupying for three months - and tried to remove all thoughts from her mind relating to the videos she tried to delete but couldn’t.

There are some muffled noises on Dianna’s end. Susan can’t quite make it, but Dianna sounds angry.

“Susan, we have a problem with the clips. Apparently they don’t open if they’re not accessed from the original USB drive. You’ll have to hand it to the intern. We’ll set it up here.”

“But..I..why don’t you get someone else’s?”

“There’s no time. Graphics has already worked up your intro. Just hand it to the intern. NOW.”

Susan reluctantly hands over her USB, which was still locked in her palm, over to the intern on her right.

“Use the most recent ones. Don’t go too far back,” she said as the intern walked away. But he didn’t hear her, and she knew that.

Great, Susan thought. My most exciting day at work could now just be my last day at work. And quite possibly the end of my marriage.

“Susan. Cheer up," Dianna spoke into Susan’s earpiece. "You’re about to make history. 10 seconds!” 

The cameraman began the countdown.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

“Good morning New York,” Susan began. “We are interrupting your regular morning show “A 100 ways to make spaghetti” to bring you this live coverage of the video “The God Incident” that has the entire world in shock and awe. Here it is now.”

The video is played back. The newsroom is completely quiet as if everyone is witnessing the moments for the first time. As if the first time wasn’t real, but now it is.

Susan readies herself as Brian begins to speak.

“Viewers, if you were to switch to Fox News right now, or even CBS, you will hear their anchors speak of how God is American. But we aren’t going to speculate simply because of the man’s accent.”

“What we do want you to think about,” Susan continued, “is how this will affect our life. The person who spoke to us this morning clearly had this all figured out. This was planned. His accent is irrelevant if we begin to think about his magic trick of handing all of us our entire life’s history in the palm of our hand.”

Susan hesitates. Brian stares at her.

“Susan. Queue the videos..Susan! Do it now!” Dianna screams into Susan’s ear piece.

But Susan is still. And quiet. 

“Yes, Susan," Brian said as he gestured the graphics guy, "We will now show our viewers exactly what these USB drives contain.” 

Susan can see the video on the monitor in front on her. The timestamp on the bottom reads “October 12, 2011.”

Oh God...not this one, Susan thought. Anything but this. What are the chances they would select this one?! I am going to get fired. Please, God, please don't let Jake see this. I'll do anything. Please make this stop! Look! I'm praying! I know you exist! I'm sorry about all those times I didn't believe in you! How could I have known you would be real? Please stop this now!

As the video begins to play, Susan hears Dianna’s voice. What Dianna has to say calms and shocks Susan. But mostly calms.

“I’m sorry, Brian," Susan begins as she repeats what Dianna says in her ear. "But we’ll have to cut this video for now. Viewers, I’m just getting a live update from our executive producer that witnesses have seen a man get hit by a car in Brooklyn. One witness has emailed us a video. We will go to it now. I have been told the video is extremely graphic, so please watch it with caution.”

On the monitor, Susan watches the video of what seems like a regular street in Brooklyn. Then suddenly there is a loud noise. The camera person runs over to the sound to show a man lying on the street, with his body shaped in a way that most wouldn’t consider possible. His neck looks to be definitely broken. The camera catches what looks like a rather fast sports car driving away. The cameraperson goes closer to the man lying on the street. The man who was really, really dead just four seconds ago, begins to twitch. Slowly, his neck snaps into place, followed by the other joints. As the witnesses approach this man and ask him what had happened, the man stares right at the camera phone and says -

“My name is Adam, and I have a message from God.”

And then he ran away.

TO BE CONTINUED...

If you'd like to help me figure out where to take the story from here, check out my post on The Garage. Because stories get better with help :)