TRANSCRIPT: The Second Tale of Sodapop, Part 2

[Music: “Swamp Fever,” by Walt Adams]

Sodapop picks his way through a forest gone wrong. His shoulders ache a little, but he ignores it. His bad knee catches, but he shakes it off. 

Nearby, the thing with giant paws leads him up the hill again. Its footsteps send little electrical pulses through the dirt. They tingle when they reach his paw-pads. Sodapop tries to step over and around them, but their trajectory is hard to predict. 

Here and there, Big-Paws stops, tilts its head, and listens. Occasionally, it calls in a high, clear voice. Sodapop never hears a reply, but it seems this creature has a companion, or maybe even a pack.

The forest has grown uncannily dark, darker even than the room with black-out curtains where Lara sometimes sleeps. Distorted calls from changed animals echo through the night. The scent profile is dizzying. Big-Paws is the scent equivalent of a neon siren, a tangled mass of pheromones under a pungent sulfur smell. The bizarre, half-dead animals are almost masked by it, though he can find them if he concentrates. If Sodapop’s nose is to be trusted, night and day animals are out at the same time, and at least a third of them have been dead for weeks. If it doesn’t smell of death, it smells of fear. Sodapop has never encountered so many different kinds of fear.

While the big-pawed creature’s ultimate goal is unclear, it seems to want to protect the little dog. When it sees him cringe away from an underground pulse, it stops sending them his way. Instead, it turns its head toward him now and then. 

Once, a group of evil opossums draw near. It stomps its foot then, and Sodapop hears them shriek and run away. He follows a little closer after that.

Far above them, the sky begins to scream.

Before tonight, the worst sound Sodapop had ever heard was the low battery alarm on a smoke detector. The smoke detector is a horrible little creature that lives on the ceiling in Lara’s house. It lies silent for most of its life, but sometimes – usually when Lara makes dinner – it wakes up and screams. The low battery sound is shorter than the scream, but it is infinitely more painful. Its frequency pierces right through Sodapop’s brain. When he first heard that chirp, Sodapop shook all over, and he didn’t stop shaking until late into the night. Even after Lara took the smoke detector down, took out all its pieces, he still remembered the pain. It hasn’t chirped since she put it back together, but he’s careful of it all the same. That chirp is Sodapop’s greatest fear.

That is, until he hears the stars.

There is something wrong with the stars.

They appear in the sky as sickly bolts of light. As each appears, it begins to whine. The high-pitched sound blooms, rises, and falls, hits every discordant note across a thousand scales. The reverberations hit a pitch that Sodapop can’t even hear – but he still feels them, tearing through his eardrums, clawing at his eyeballs, rattling his bones. Sodapop screams, though he can’t hear himself screaming. He feels like he’s being compressed, every atom crashing into each other, then shaking loose only to settle closer, tighter, heavier. In desperation, he barks at his own body, at the attacker within and without. He cries for someone else to help him, and he cries in case it helps someone else.

Then there’s a ripple under his feet, and the sky goes quiet. Sodapop looks up to see the big-pawed creature by his side. It leans over and looks down at him. Its eyes glitter with broken moonlight. Everything smells like sulfur. Sodapop doesn’t mind.

It walks forward, and this time Sodapop stays very close, touching when he can. Its fur is rough, like uncut brush. He trembles at the sky. He trembles at the monster by his side. He is caught, he realizes. And he is so very far from home.

Suddenly, the monster stops. Its excitement fills the air around it, like static electricity. It lets out a piercing, rumbling roar. 

This time, another sound echoes back. Many sounds, actually. Rumbles, roars, cries. Big-paws has found its pack. 

They loom up out of shadows, differentiate themselves from thickets and grass piles. They could be bears, or they could be trees. Tall, mossy, human-like and plant-like and wild. They vary in size. The one who came here with Sodapop, which looks taller than any animal Sodapop has yet seen, might be the smallest one. It is the most like a human. The others take strange forms. One has antler-like growths sprouting from its head. Another has long, leathery flaps that sweep the earth behind it. All have four limbs, though. All have huge paws. All of them move both above and beneath the ground. 

By their sides, perched on their arms, following in their wake, are animals. Regular animals, alive ones, untouched by whatever decay has struck the other creatures of this place. Birds, field mice, furry things and feathery things and even a few scaly ones. They ought to be afraid of each other, but they’re too dazed, too exhausted. Like Sodapop, they can only huddle close and worry.

The tree-bear-beings move into a loose circle. They stand on their hind paws, whatever shape those take, and extend their front paws toward each other. Sodapop feels waves of energy pass between them. It’s electric, like before, but not uncomfortable. It pulses like a heartbeat.

Gradually, they begin to hum.  It’s a deep, rumbling note that drowns out the horrible screams of the stars and shakes loose muscles bound by fear. Sodapop looks around, and sees the other animals come back to themselves. He watches them relax. He looks up at the little big thing that brought him here. It glances down at him, its eyes soft. Then it looks to its companions and joins the hum.

Across the Beast-Ring, Sodapop spots a familiar spot of white-on-black fur. The Barn Cat is here, standing between the feet of a beast that looks like a giant pile of moss. She holds a kitten in her jaws. As he makes his way toward her, she sets the kitten down and cleans its ears. She pauses as he draws close, but a flicker of recognition runs through her, and she resumes cleaning. 

Sodapop sniffs them both. The kitten smells a little like the Barn Cat, but not much. It came from the same place, perhaps. But it isn’t hers. Still, she calms it. Then she turns back, toward the space behind the moss-beast. She twitches her tail, then plunges back into the darkness.

It’s still horrible out there. Sodapop can feel it. Everything is wrong, and the stars still scream. He moves to catch the Barn Cat, to call her back, but she’s gone before he can react. He looks at the kitten, tiny and forlorn at the feet of a mossy monster. He whines.

The Barn Cat darts back in with another kitten. Her hair is all on end. He can feel her frayed nerves, smell her pain and panic. Still, she licks the kitten once, sets it with its sibling, and races back into the forest again.

The kittens stare up at him with wide, frightened eyes. He sniffs at them carefully. The first kitten reaches up, tiny claws extended, and grabs onto his muzzle. He yelps and pulls backward. The Moss-Beast lets out a deep, subsonic grumble. Dog and cats freeze in place until it stops with a satisfied grunt.

Two more times the Barn Cat comes back with a kitten, sets it with the others, and runs away again. Each journey seems to hit her harder. By the time she gets back with the fifth kitten, smaller and stickier than its siblings, she moves slowly, like every joint hurts. Her hair sheds in tufts. She sets the tiny one with the others and leans against the moss-beast, exhausted. She looks at Sodapop, as if seeing him for the first time. Her ears twitch. He moves in and licks the kittens for her. The little one tastes like blood. Feline blood. Not its own.

It’s hard to say when Sodapop becomes aware that Lara is in trouble. The feeling creeps up on him, a tiny sensation running up his spine. He licks the kittens harder and harder until the Barn Cat steps between them with a hiss. That’s when he realizes how tense he is.

He pads back to the Big-Pawed creature, the young one who led him here. Young Big-Paws looks down at him. Sodapop whines. It seems to understand. It glances at the others. It moves one giant foot, just a little. Just enough to open a path to the outside.

Sodapop sniffs the air. He has to concentrate hard, as there’s a lot of interference now. The Big-Pawed creatures are overwhelming, so many of them all together emitting a series of pulses and pheromones. He pushes himself, though. Sulfur, electricity, mice, robins, crows, kitten, moss, sulfur, bat, kitten, squirrel, old dirt, new dirt, decay, water, life…a million scents accost him, and he presses past them all, sorts through them, looking for…

Nothing.

At the edge of this jumble of smells, there’s nothing. 

And deep inside the nothing, there’s a call.

It’s not a smell, or a sound, or anything else. It’s a force. A pull. The thing that pulls the tides, beckons waves to the shore and drags them back again. If it’s a light, then it’s a dull one. But it calls all the same.

He glances back at the barn cat. The kittens aren’t hers. But she still saved the kittens.

He looks up at the young Big-paw. It meets his gaze. He wags his tail. It nods.

The cacophony rushes back the second he leaves the circle. It takes all his senses with it. Sodapop can’t understand anything he passes. A group of elk fight over the carcass of a coyote. Bats slam into tree trunks, unable to hear themselves over the screaming sky. Everything smells of confusion, of fear, of blood.

Sodapop points himself at the nothing-smell and crashes wildly into the underbrush. He careens sideways, unmoored, like the time that a child tried to take him on a swing set and just kept pulling him back and forth. The nothingness is his beacon, a comforting bit of silence in this ocean of input, and he orients himself toward it. At its center is the urgent thing, the compulsion that pushes him on.

By the time he reaches the clearing, he is utterly confusing. The lifeless dirt feels like soft sand beneath his paws. The screaming stars blend with the voices of distressed animals and humans. To his overspent ears, they become a distant roar, the roiling of a lifeless surf. He staggers sideways, shakes his head, and searches again.

This time he feels it, a strange thump in his chest. He looks toward the center of this dead place. Past a sea of death and decay and panic lies the whole, entire world.

There is his human. And there is Lara. They are there together, very far away.

Sodapop summons the last of his strength and sprints. It takes everything he has to move in this place, but because he is a dog, he has everything to give. He runs. And as he runs, he howls at the moon.

Lara hears him first. Both of his humans are far away, somehow here and somewhere else. But when he cries, Lara turns. The movement is slow, dazed, but unmistakable. He leaps toward her outstretched arms, and in a moment, she’s only here.

It’s Lara who brings his human back. She reflects the human who is the sun, and she draws her from the darkness. His human wraps him in light, and for a moment everything is okay, even in this nightmare world. Sodapop helps Lara who helps Rose who helps Sodapop, just as it ought to be.

When his human rises, she is the brightest thing in the night. She throws a lantern into the center of the nothingness, and the monsters burst into flame. Lara is cool against the ensuing fire, her arms secure around his chest as she lifts him up and carries him away.

What follows after that is a blur. Sodapop falls asleep in the backseat of another car. When he wakes up, Mom has him. She is kinder than she was before. She gives him treats and takes him to a groomer, where he gets even more treats. The groomer picks at his paw pads and pulls at his matted hair. He hates this. But when the groomer finishes, Sodapop feels better than he has in days. This is most likely a coincidence.

Time passes slowly, until one day Mom takes him somewhere new. It’s a strange place, with slick floors and a bitey, antiseptic smell. She hurries him down the hall, though he wants to stop and sniff at everything he sees, and ushers him into a room. There, on a bed, is Rose. He knows that she is called Rose, because the humans keep saying it over and over. For the first time since he can remember, she seems happy. She is at peace. She smells of medicine and still carries hints of the forest, but she is well. He licks her face, and she laughs.

At the edge of her bed is Lara. Lara shrinks away from Mom, who touches Rose’s hair. Mom takes care of Rose, he thinks.  

Mom leaves the room so his humans can talk. He doesn’t know the words they say, but for once the tone seems soft, kind. 

As they talk, Sodapop watches Lara. She compels him, somehow. He’s never noticed that before. He feels her movements. There’s such comfort to her presence. She is quiet, and cool, and not always easy to read. But mostly, she is alone.

Sodapop thinks of the barn cat, watching the kittens that didn’t smell like her. He thinks of the big-pawed monster that saved him even though every instinct said that they should fight. He thinks of the ocean – the real ocean. He thinks of the moon and the tides.

The humans go quiet, and he knows they’re going to move apart again. This is the way of them, it turns out. Perfect pieces that never seem to fit. 

When Lara moves, Sodapop wants to follow. She needs him, he realizes. And he is a good boy. A good boy goes where he’s needed.

For the final time, his human envelops him in warm, healing light. She says something in a sad, determined voice. She sets him on the ground. Then Lara walks out the door, and Sodapop follows. Like the tide. Like a beacon in the night. 

They step out into the parking lot, and Lara lets out a shuddering breath. She stares into space for a long, quiet moment. Sodapop nudges her leg with his nose. Lara looks down at him and laughs.

Everything, he knows, will be okay.

The end. ‘Bye now.

[Outro song: “Dear Moon,” by Velvet Moon]

SEVEN OF HEARTS PROMO TRANSCRIPT

VOICE

Are you alone? Are you sure? Anyone could be watching, waiting…you wouldn’t know, would you? No, of course you wouldn’t.

Pause

ZACH

Still smoking, I see

ALEX

Still acting like I give a damn about your opinion.

Pause

CARM

There’s…nobody here. Nobody here, just…my imagination.

Pause

SAL

Look, you either need to leave me alone, or show yourself, because I’m not doing this.

Pause

VOICE

You don’t even know what’s coming. Don’t worry, I promise, in the end, it will be quick.

Pause

CARMIN

You really don’t see anything wrong with making a coke and mentos volcano in the dorm bathroom. Really?

SAL

No.

CONNOR

Nope.

TRANSCRIPT: Tale of SodaPop Pt 3

A PDF version of this transcript is available here.

 The moon has risen high in the sky by the time SodaPop gets a moment’s rest. The barn cat leads  him along game trails and over streams, and he follows at a plodding pace, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. This night has been very strange, and that makes him tired. Finally, the cat stops at a small thicket blanketed with fallen needles. SodaPop digs out a little bed, circles it a few times to make sure it’s just right, and promptly falls asleep.

The barn cat watches him a moment, then saunters off to hunt. It’s not clear why she’s taken such a shine to the little dog. She doesn’t care much for dogs, normally, or really any animal for that matter. Maybe she feels bad for him. He’s so clearly a city dog, the smell of concrete and exhaust embedded down to the skin. He’s quick and clever, but hopeless in the face of danger. He’d never survive out here on his own. But he also knows humans, or at least has all the trappings of a spoiled human pet, and that is one area of expertise that the barn cat doesn’t have.

She catches a field mouse, plays with it a little, then eats it before going back to check on the sleeping dog. She taps him softly with her paw and he startles awake. See? Hopeless. You don’t sleep deep in the woods, especially here on the ground. It’s a great way to never wake up.

When SodaPop sees the barn cat, he stretches and gives himself a thorough, full-body shake. She blinks slowly at him. He wags his tail. Neither is quite sure what these signals mean, but they don’t seem threatening, which is good enough.

It’s still dark out, though it won’t be for long, and the barn cat decides to put SodaPop’s knowledge to good use. She guides him up a steep hollow to a wide, well-worn hiking trail. Beside the trail she finds a huge blackberry bush, wild and full of thick thorns, and slips underneath it. SodaPop tries to follow, but the thorns snag the feathery hair on his ears almost immediately. He whines, stuck, but the cat just settles deeper under the bush and turns around to watch him. He takes a careful step backward and manages to free himself, but the blackberry bush is clearly not a good hiding spot.

Far down the trail, they hear footsteps. Human footsteps. SodaPop tenses, then sits up and wags his tail. Humans! He loves those!

The cat gives a soft, warning hiss, which he ignores. He steps onto the edge of the path. There are three adult humans of varying sizes. In the pre-pre-dawn, he can really only make out their silhouettes. One of them is very tall, and that one swivels its head back and forth as it walks, keeping a constant watch on their surroundings. There’s a short one, which stares at its feet as it walks. The third one smells strongly of sausages. It chatters to the others. It says the words “Lara” and “dog,” and SodaPop starts to rush forward, then stops. 

There’s something wrong. Beneath the smell of old sausages, the humans radiate fear. Now, it’s true that dogs can smell fear. But not all fear smells the same. There’s the worried kind, which usually needs a soothing response from a dog. And the frightened kind, which means a predator’s near. What emanates from these humans is something else. It’s a slow, dangerous tension, the elevated adrenaline of someone attempting something against their better judgement. This is the smell of humans who are Up To Something.

Of course, while processing all of this, he’s forgotten that he’s supposed to be hiding. So before he can decide what to do, the tall human stops and points at him. Then the short one says “SodaPop,” and all three look in his direction. SodaPop turns to run, but only finds the blackberry bush. So turns toward the humans, squares his shoulders, and barks. 

This activates the humans, who dive in his direction. The tall one reaches for him first. He ducks under its big hands and takes a quick side-step, which sends it off-balance. The short one goes low, bending its knees and holding its hands out wide. It misjudges how narrow SodaPop is, though, and the dog slips between the short human’s legs and out the other side. Then the sausage-y one grabs his tail. This solidifies, in SodaPop’s mind, that these are very bad humans. He whips his head around and snarls viciously. The sausage one, not knowing that SodaPop is actually too good a boy to ever bite someone, lets go of his tail in a hurry. Still too close for comfort, SodaPop spins once and lets out a mighty battle cry.

[SFX: A cute doggy “Arooo” sound.]

What the humans soon discover is that SodaPop is an all-time master at the game of chase. The secret is not necessarily speed. Lots of dogs are fast. But when you’re small, narrow, and long-legged, you just have to zig-zag and turn more tightly than your opponent and you win every time. There’s not a dog alive who can catch SodaPop, not even that Border Collie that someone keeps bringing to the small dog side of the dog park. Clumsy, two-legged humans don’t stand a chance.

He zips just close enough to the tall one to bait it into bending down to grab him, then feints and rushes at the sausage-smelling one instead. The tall one, bent over as it is, attempts to follow with its arms and accidentally clotheslines the short one, who’s racing into the fray. Sausage man swipes at him, but SodaPop slips close to its legs and then fluidly turns around behind it. This leads the man in a small circle, which pushes it just off-balance enough that it must right itself before chasing after the dog. This buys SodaPop time to zip straight away and out of the little cluster of humans. 

SodaPop sprints a few yards away and turns to see that the humans have largely recovered from their mishaps. The tall one now holds a cloth sheet it got from somewhere. This could be a problem. “Come here, doggy,” the short one says, as it fans out to block an easy escape route on one side of the trail. SodaPop hesitates just a half-second, then races toward the short one. Just as a grin spreads on the human’s face, SodaPop jukes hard and whirls off in another direction. The tall one is waiting for him here, though, and it spreads the sheet wide to try to catch him. SodaPop skids into a hard turn and just manages to get away, but the awkward movement makes his bad knee ache. He needs to get out of the open.

SodaPop does a quick zig-zag across the trail to try to scatter the humans a little, but they’re ready for him. He scans the surroundings, but can’t see a good hiding spot that won’t require leaping over a fallen tree limb or two. While there’s always a chance that could make a human trip, it could also pop his bad knee. Therefore, he takes the one option that’s demonstrated to work. Powered by desperate adrenaline, SodaPop lowers his head and runs as fast as he can into the blackberry bush.

Thorns tear at the hair on his ears and muzzle, poke into the gaps between his paw pads, embed themselves in his fluffy tail. Despite this, SodaPop lets the momentum carry him through to nearly the center of the sprawling bush — and right into the barn cat’s hiding spot.

The barn cat, now faced with a thorny, dog-shaped rocket, lets out a piercing yowl —

[SFX: Cat scream]

and flies out of the bush — directly toward the short human. Neither have time to get out of the way, and both scream as cat collides with human, claws first. The barn cat slashes savagely in all directions, landing several vicious scratches before she disentangles from the short one. Then she ricochets off the tall one, digging her claws into the human’s leg so that she can springboard onto a nearby tree. She climbs up several levels and stops to lick the blood off of her claws. Humans are just so gross.

The humans are in chaos now, all shouting and running around. Meanwhile, SodaPop is fully stuck inside the blackberry bush, held in place by thick snarls of thorns. He tries to lift his head, but that just twists the thorns even deeper into his hair. He makes a few more cautious moves, but it’s hopeless. He can only whine for help. The smell of sausages floats ever-closer as the one uninjured human tries to part the thorny bush without cutting itself. It’s only somewhat successful, though it does manage to thrust an arm in far enough to reach SodaPop’s ear. 

Then suddenly, there’s a cry in the distance.

[SFX: Monster cry]

SodaPop has heard this sound a few times since Lara brought him to this place, and it always makes him nervous. It rattles down his spine and into his gut. His lips curl into a growl almost before he actually hears it. But as the sound pierces through the pre-dawn forest, the humans stiffen. They smell of pure panic and anticipation now. As SodaPop finally extricates himself from the blackberry bush, the humans fall to their knees and press their faces into the ground, arms stretched out ahead of them. 

SodaPop chews a thorn out of one of his feet, shakes the brambles he can out of his hair, and turns toward the sound. 

It’s hard to make out what it is, exactly. It’s something huge with long, pulsing limbs that reach across the sky. The non-smell from earlier seeps out from it, erasing all the other scents in the air, confusing his senses again. Wherever the shape’s long arms spread, the sky disappears. It’s not that it’s dark. If you have a good nose, you never confuse darkness with nothingness. This is like a hole in the world. Emptiness.

As it approaches, SodaPop feels his own terror rise. The humans are motionless now, eyes shut tight. Up in a tree, the barn cat also sits frozen, her eyes so dilated they’ve gone completely black.

SodaPop has run far too many times in the last few hours. He wouldn’t run now, even if he could. Instead, SodaPop looks down at the frightened humans, and he knows what he must do. He is, after all, a Good Boy. He’s always been a good boy. He comes from a long line of good boys and girls. And right now, all that breeding says that good dogs protect others. So he gathers himself, growls deep in his throat, and steps past the humans, toward the nothing-thing.

The long limbs radiate out from a thick, confused mass at the center. Between the pre-dawn shadows and the lack of smell, SodaPop can’t tell what shape it is. Its edges seem to ripple and change. Wherever it touches the ground, the plants shrivel and die. Other than that soft rustling, it makes no sound. SodaPop lowers his head, trying his best to look intimidating as he blocks its path to the humans. Then he lets out his deepest, most intimidating bark.

[SFX: Dog barking (mean)]

The thing actually seems to hesitate for a moment. It stops moving, and its limbs stick straight out in a curious gesture. The humans on the ground writhe and scream in response, and though SodaPop isn’t sure how the being hurts them, he barks frantically for it to stop.

[SFX: Dog barking (scared)]

The empty limbs flicker a little, like the being is thinking of what to do next. Before it can act, though, pre-dawn shifts into dawn. The sun crests over the hill, sending bright, clear beams through the trees. The gray mush of the landscape transforms into a mosaic of light and shadow. SodaPop winces only slightly as the light hits his eyes, and in that fraction of a second, the monster is gone. It doesn’t wither or sizzle. It doesn’t cry or run or hide. It’s just there one moment and gone the next, a cluster of dead plants the only sign it was ever here at all. The forest smells rush back in again, knocking SodaPop a little off-balance as he adjusts back to the regular world.

Behind him, the humans stop screaming and groan softly instead. They roll onto their backs, breathless, and lie on the ground. The short one says that they’ve been “blessed,” a word that SodaPop remembers as a good thing. The tall one laughs, wild and incredulous. The smelly one just stares into the sky, motionless.

Just at the edge of his vision, SodaPop catches a little movement. Something large, but living, with wide, quiet footsteps. Its eyes glint in SodaPop’s direction, and then it sprints off into the woods. SodaPop doesn’t care to follow.

He considers the humans for a moment. He protected them, but that doesn’t mean he trusts them. In fact, if he’s going to get away from them, then he should do it now while they’re distracted. So he sniffs once and trots away into the forest. Far above, the barn cat leaps from branch to branch and then scrambles to the ground. She walks next to him, her steps heavy but quick. SodaPop’s tail wags slightly. The cat twitches an ear in his direction. They disappear into the brush.

The walk back through the woods is long, not least because SodaPop doesn’t actually know which direction to go in anymore. The smell of home is long gone. The barn cat seems to trust him, though, and the two range across the hillside amiably. SodaPop’s jangling collar and general enthusiasm ruin the barn cat’s attempt to stalk the just-awakened field mice, but his keen nose is good at finding clean streams to drink from. At one such stream, the barn cat sneaks away and returns with the remains of a bird. She drops it in front of SodaPop and steps back. This one cannot hunt, but it doesn’t deserve to starve, the gesture might say. SodaPop doesn’t really know what to do with a dead bird, though, and the cat looks on in horror as he rolls on it instead of eating it.

SodaPop is a true denizen of the woods, he thinks. His hair is full of thorns, twigs, and leaves. He’s got a few scratches from the blackberry bush, but nothing serious. There’s a layer of dirt settling in against his skin. And now, best of all, he is cloaked with the alluring, complex scent of dead bird. What could be better?

He can’t help but think of Lara, though. Will she be okay without him? Can she find him out here? He thinks maybe she’s at the bottom of the hill, but he can’t be sure. And there are so many smells crowding his senses that he’s not sure he could even pick her out. 

The barn cat notes his tension but continues to saunter casually beside him. He is new here, but he will learn. Maybe he can be a barn dog. There’s a small cat colony in her barn back home, but she can take them on if she needs to. This dog has few useful skills, but he is brave, and that’s something. He could probably scare raccoons away from the food bin, if he really works at it.

Before she can decide whether to adopt him, SodaPop stops walking. He’s frozen, tense all over. The barn cat tenses too. Has the monster come back? The nothing-thing from the night before? But no, this — this seems different.

SodaPop takes a few steps back and forth, sniffing the air. He’s urgent, attentive. Then in a second, his entire demeanor changes. He comes alive. He was always alive, of course, but this is something different. It’s like a spark ignites at his nose and courses through to the end of his tail. His heart speeds up, and every muscle readies itself.

She’s here. The human who is the sun. His person. He’s sure of it.

Pinpointing the exact direction of her scent takes just another second. He’s not really much a tracker, generally more interested in a scent’s complexity than its trail. And there’s no emptiness here to mute the other smells, so he has to pick her out from fir trees, birds, bear scat, barn cats…

The barn cat sits back, exasperated. She knows not to trust these woods. She thought she taught him not to trust them either. But here he is, taken by yet another new sensation. 

Then a branch snaps on a tree somewhere uphill from them. The sound is like a starter’s pistol. SodaPop lets out a wild, desperate bark, like no sound he’s made all night, and he bolts toward the crest of the hill. The cat has seen him run many times at this point, but never like this. This time, SodaPop runs with the whole force of life driving him, something stronger than hunger or fear. He sails over fallen branches, navigates thorny bushes like they’re hardly there. He is unstoppable. 

There’s no point in following, the cat knows. Part of being an apex predator is knowing when and where to spend one’s energy, and whatever SodaPop’s after doesn’t seem to be in her interest. So she watches him instead, a little streak of white barreling uphill and out of sight. 

She waits a few moments, just in case he calls for her or comes back. He does neither. So she carefully licks her paws and smoothes her fur, then walks off in the other direction. Her barn is just past the base of the hill. Along the way, the trees grow mossy and thick, excellent for stalking prey. She can hear a Bluejay calling from somewhere. She’s always wanted to catch one of those bastards.

Above her, the sun glows softly through a blanket of clouds. A dark squirrel with red, glittering eyes settles into the hollow of a tree, where it will sleep until nightfall. The breeze speaks of coming rain. And somewhere in the forest, a little dog runs desperately toward his truest love.

OUTRO

Thank you for listening to the Tale of SodaPop. 

This episode was written, edited, and narrated by Julie Saunders. The role of SodaPop was played by Archie. The Barn Cat was played by Lulu. Music for this episode was provided by Epidemic Sound -- please see the show notes for titles and composers.

Production is about to restart on this show, starting with a full-cast prequel episode and then moving on to the rest of season one. Patreon supporters will get sneak peeks and behind-the-scene looks at that process, as well as early access to all new episodes. Find out more about Patreon and other ways to support the show at believerpodcast.com/support.

Until next time, I leave you with the wisdom of Mister Fred Rogers: “I like you just the way you are.” Bye now.

TRANSCRIPT: Tale of SodaPop Pt 2

A PDF version of this transcript is available here.

Sodapop keeps close to the barn cat. In the flood of interesting outdoor scents, it would be easy to lose her. He uses a similar tactic with Lara when she lets him wander without a leash, shooting a glance her way every time he finds himself distracted. The barn cat never seems to look back at him, though she occasionally flips an ear his way.

Because of his size and his fluffiness, people often assume that SodaPop can’t take care of himself. But he’s been on his own before. He was barely older than a puppy when his first humans took him for a ride, set him on an unfamiliar street, and left him there. He barely remembers those humans, but he’s pretty sure they were nice up until then. He doesn’t know why they left him behind. It didn’t seem like an accident. Those humans only had him for a little while, just long enough for him to grow from a fat baby into the leggy, athletic dog he is today. Maybe they only wanted a fat baby. Maybe they forgot that babies grow up.

He learned a lot of things in that strange neighborhood. Where humans discard food, how water likes to pool. Which animals were good or chasing (almost all of them), and which ought to be avoided (mostly geese). By the time a human finally caught him and brought him to the city shelter, his hair had grown long and matted, and he was even skinnier than he is now. They shaved him and fed him, and he slept in a strange concrete room with lots of stressed-out dogs in nearby enclosures. He didn’t mind that place, really. It had nice humans in it. Humans are almost always nice to SodaPop.

It was there that SodaPop finally met his human. He’d never had a person of his own before, not really. But this one walked into the shelter, smiled down at him, and he knew nothing could ever be the same. She took him to a little apartment on a quiet street in Portland. Lara lived there too. She and Lara were happy, and he was glad because he seemed to make them even happier. The humans called him SodaPop, because it made them laugh. He calls himself nothing, because he always knows who he is. He never learned his human’s name for much the same reason. She was like the sun. You know it has a name, but you don’t really have to use it. The sun is just there.

Those happy days went on forever, at least as far as he could tell. Dogs experience lots of forevers. Time for them is slow and slippery, and they can live in a moment for as long as they want, provided nothing big changes. And nothing changed for SodaPop and his people for a long, long time.

At some point, the humans started fighting. First a little here and there, then almost all the time. They weren’t real fights, of course. More the kind of loud display that dogs use when they have a dispute but don’t want to hurt each other. But they made the house feel tense, and that made SodaPop worried. He started to feel like he had a stomachache all the time. He clung to his human, but she started leaving the apartment at unexpected times, always without him, so that he only had Lara to be with. Lara was nice, but she didn’t speak his language like his person did. His person knew all his looks and signals, every little change in his body language. Lara was much more difficult to communicate with. And she didn’t play with the toys right. She didn’t seem to care about toys at all, in those days.

And then one day, his human was gone. SodaPop isn’t sure exactly when. Dogs aren’t good at noticing when things end. He remembers a long hug around that time, uncomfortable and tight. She didn’t usually hold him like that, and he whined and struggled until she let him go. Her face was salty, and she sat on the floor for a long time while he tried to clean it off. He’s not sure if that was the day she left or much earlier, though. She just wasn’t at home for a long time, and then      one day Lara put all the things that smelled like her into boxes and sent them away. Then he knew. 

Things have been different since then. Not bad different. Just different. Lara is a fine human, and they’ve come to understand each other better over time. SodaPop loves her. But she’s not the sun. They both know that.

Here in the woods, SodaPop’s nose begins to fill with that awful, sharp scent he got from the squirrels and from whatever was inside Jake’s house. It gets stronger as the trees move closer together. He growls softly as it starts to block out other smells. The barn cat pauses and looks back at him, a long, appraising look. He can’t say for sure, but she seems glad that he’s uncomfortable here. He hopes that doesn’t mean she’s tricking him. 

Familiarity prickles at the back of SodaPop’s brain. He’s been here before. Was the smell this strong that time? He can’t remember clearly. He’s pretty sure he came here with Lara and Jake, though. He’d found the sweater then, its scent piercing through this sharp mush like a beacon. But nothing smells like that now. It’s all just…bad.

SodaPop pushes past the cat, through a little tangle of underbrush, and sees a large clearing full of dry, lifeless dirt. Yes, this is where he came with Lara. It’s not a good place.

As he steps up to the edge of the clearing, the sharp smell disappears. In fact, all smells disappear. SodaPop freezes. He sniffs intently. He smells…nothing.

You have to understand, there’s always something to smell. Sometimes one scent masks another, or a nose gets overwhelmed, but there’s always something. Even when all the other senses fail, there’s a scent. Except in this place, right now. The non-smell wraps around from all directions, and soon he can’t tell where he came from or where he’s going. The forest might as well be empty. His own odor goes away. Maybe he’s gone, too.

SodaPop begins to tremble. He doesn’t know what to do. What do you do with the absence of things? Do you bark at it? Hide from it? It feels like if there’s nothing to smell, then there’s nothing he can do. 

The cat emerges from the brush somewhere near the middle of this little crisis. When she sees SodaPop shaking, she lets out a soft, surprisingly high-pitched meow.

[SFX: Cat sound.]

The sound acts as an anchor, pulling SodaPop back into the world. It’s getting very dark now, but when he turns his head to the side he can just see the cat’s outline against the trees beside them. She might be the only real thing in the world.

SodaPop isn’t quite sure what happens next. Maybe the cat, with her expanded pupils, can see more. He just notices that the dead dirt takes on a shifting, churning quality. Long, dark streaks appear, like the fingers of a mole seeking the best path. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, something bulges toward the surface. He can’t make out what it is, but it seems familiar somehow. He feels like he’s trying to access an old, old memory, something he never actually experienced but has carried in his blood from his mother’s mother’s mother. A bit of knowledge that only lives in his oldest bones. 

Then suddenly, squirrels leap down from trees all around the dead clearing. He can’t be sure, but they look like the Bad Squirrel from earlier — fur a little too dark, eyes a little too bright. They chitter and weave, and to SodaPop it feels like he’s hearing them from underwater. As their paws hit the dirt, their scent disappears. Together with the darkness, this makes them nearly invisible to a dog like SodaPop. He shivers again, and whines softly under his breath. 

Beside him, the barn cat’s tail twitches. The squirrels chatter and run in the dirt. SodaPop can only see shadows, but the ones he sees undulate strangely, as if the terrain is changing shape in front of him. All at once, he gets the feeling that the squirrels are doing something important here. The cat hisses softly, but he doesn’t look away. There is something precious here, something that shouldn’t be left to squirrels. If he can just get a little bit closer…

As he lifts a paw to step into the dirt, the barn cat bites him on the tail, hard. SodaPop yelps and staggers backward into the brush. He whirls around to face the cat. Her hair is all on end, her tail puffed up to at least twice its size. She’s not looking at him, though. She’s staring back at the clearing, her eyes wide. SodaPop follows her gaze just in time to spot a line of dark squirrels, heads all turned in his direction, bodies tensed for a fight.

The cat sprints off into the bushes, away from this horrible place, and SodaPop follows close behind her. Behind them a chittering wail floats out of the squirrel mob, an eerie sound that only barely remembers it’s supposed to be a rodent’s cry. 

Forest smells rush back in, much to SodaPop’s relief. He knows the squirrels are close behind, dozens of them, the sharp scent arcing off them like lightning. He forces himself to focus on the cat, who’s surprisingly agile given her bulk. She darts under bushes, springboards sideways off of tree trunks. There’s no real strategy here, just a wild, frenzied race. SodaPop struggles to keep her in sight as he also bounces over logs, slips down through hollows, whooshes past the ferns. 

At the foot of an old Douglas fir tree, he spies a place where the dirt has fallen away from the roots, creating a small pocket. It may not be an escape, but it would leave him guarded on three sides if he has to make a stand. The barn cat clocks it too, and they zip into it at nearly the same time. Their soft bodies wedge together into the back corner of the hollow. They’re both breathing hard.

Just then, they hear an owl. The sound stops the squirrels, who come to a halt and turn their glittering eyes toward the sky. SodaPop hears the owl shift its flight and prepare to dive. Maybe it doesn’t know about bad squirrels. Maybe it thinks this mass of rodents will make an easy meal. Whatever its reason, it swoops. 

Instead of scattering, the squirrels turn their heads as one to watch the owl’s descent. They’re not afraid. If anything, they seem excited. Hungry.

As the owl’s claws come within range of its intended victim, the pack of squirrels screams. The weird rodents leap into the sky, climbing over each other in a squirming tower of tails and claws. In an instant, they swarm the owl, first pulling down its talons, then covering its entire body. There’s a confusion of screams and growls, and then it’s over. The owl is dead. 

SodaPop knows this is wrong. Squirrels don’t hunt, and they certainly don’t do it in packs. What’s more, they definitely don’t eat other animals. But these abominations don’t hesitate. They fall upon their former predator and devour it. They eat every sinew, bone, and feather. Within seconds, the owl is just…gone.

SodaPop wants to stay in his hiding spot forever, whining and shaking. But the barn cat taps him on the nose and then pads soundlessly out of their place and into the brush. SodaPop hesitates. Nothing about this makes sense. The owl should have taken a squirrel or missed it, and the other squirrels should run for cover. SodaPop should pick out a straggler and try to catch it himself. Or he should chase the squirrels off and see if there’s any owl meat left. The sensible parts of him say that he can still fulfill this last part of this chain. But then, maybe if squirrels don’t act like squirrels, he shouldn’t act like a dog. And so he turns away from prey and prey of prey, and follows a cat into the tall grass.

OUTRO

Thank you for listening to the Tale of SodaPop, part one. 

This episode was written, edited, and narrated by Julie Saunders. The role of SodaPop was played by Archie. The Barn Cat was played by Lulu. Music for this episode was provided by Epidemic Sound -- please see the show notes for titles and composers.

If you want the rest of the story right now, it’s available at Patreon.com/believerpodcast. Find out more about Patreon and other ways to support the show at believerpodcast.com/support. Otherwise, part three will be out next Tuesday. 

Until then, please take care of yourself. Your best is still ahead of you.

TRANSCRIPT: Tale of Sodapop Pt 1

A PDF version of this transcript is available here.

INTRO

Hi, it’s Julie Saunders, creator of Believer and voice of Lara. I thought it’d be fun to surprise you all with a bonus episode today! But first, a few announcements.

This podcast now has merch! Head on over to Teepublic for print-on-demand tee shirts, stickers, mugs, and other items featuring a new Team Sodapop logo, an original tourism poster for the city of Charity, or two versions of our cover art.

And right now you can get 20% off all Believer merch...by joining our brand new PATREON! Monthly memberships start at just one dollar a month, and get you access to bonus material including annotated scripts, blooper and bonus episodes, and much more. Go to patreon.com/believerpodcast for more details.

Production is about to restart on this show, starting with a full-cast prequel episode and then moving on to the rest of season one. Patreon supporters will get sneak peeks and behind-the-scene looks at that process, as well as early access to all new episodes.

This is an independent, low-budget show, so any support you can give will go a long way. I also want to thank everyone for continuing to rate, review, and recommend this show. It makes a huge difference.

Okay! Now to your bonus episode. This is a three-part short story about SodaPop, set after the events of episode 4. I’ll be your narrator this time, as Lara doesn’t appear in the story.

And now, please enjoy “The Tale of SodaPop - Part One: A Good Boy.”

The Tale of SodaPop - Part One: A Good Boy

SodaPop has been alone in the cabin for a very long time. 

He can’t say how long, exactly, but certainly longer than usual. Not that he’s particularly worried — Lara always comes back, even on those occasions when she comes late. She’s not perfect, not like his other human, but she’s pretty good. 

It’s just that SodaPop really has to pee, and Good Boys don’t pee inside of buildings, even ones that smell of dirt and pine and microwave meals like this one.

SodaPop is a little taller than a human’s mid-calf when he’s on all four paws. He’s lanky and leggy, though, so if he gets up on his back paws and reaches with the front ones, he can almost reach a person’s hip. Some people call him a little dog, but he’s over twice the size of Lara’s friend’s Yorkie, and that’s got to count for something. He has floppy, feathery ears and fluffy white fur that has to get brushed far too often for his taste. The nice lady thought he must be part poodle, but Lara never wanted to buy a test to find out.

Above all, though, SodaPop is a Good Boy. So that means he’s got a bit of a dilemma. He paces in circles, but that just seems to make the feeling worse. He lies down, but that doesn’t do much either. He’ll simply have to escape.

First, he tries the door. He gets up on his hind legs and pushes as hard as he can. It doesn’t budge. Scratching on it also does nothing, and the wooden floor is too thick to dig under. He pokes it with his nose. When all else fails, he barks. 

[SFX: dog barking]

He barks a few times, then listens. But there doesn’t seem to be anyone out there. When that man Jake is home, SodaPop can always hear his heavy boots. But now, there are no boots. There’s nothing. Except the slightest little…wait. Is that a breeze? Inside the house? SodaPop raises his nose and sniffs. There is a new smell in here, fresh air mixing with the stagnant wood smell. If he can just track it to its source…

Sodapop circles the one-room cabin, sniffing the air as he goes. For a moment, he thinks maybe it’s coming from behind the kitchenette, but then a crosswind hits, and then he’s got it. The window over Lara’s desk. Lara broke it when she had a bad dream, but Jake came and covered it with a thick plastic sheet. Now the sheet has come away from the wall somewhere.

SodaPop wastes no time. He rushes over to Lara’s chair, which twists awkwardly as he clambers over it and onto the desk. Lara’s mug crashes to the floor, which startles SodaPop into a collision with her laptop. 

[SFX: Ceramic mug breaks]

His paws slide across the keyboard, and he nearly trips over the cords that stick out of one side, but he manages to right himself. He sniffs at the window, trying to locate the open spot. This requires him to walk back and forth, which sends a few more things flying to the floor, but they don’t seem like things he needs to worry about.

[SFX: Pens, papers, and equipment fall to the floor. Dog sniffing.]

Near the bottom-left corner, the plastic is loose. Sweet, wonderful outdoor air pours through. This is it. SodaPop pushes his nose against the loose plastic until he finds the gap between sheet and wall. He wedges his muzzle through it, then his head, and finally his paws and shoulders. After that it’s just a wild, flailing leap, he’s free.

[SFX/Ambient: Forest sounds. Dog shakes himself off.]

The sun hangs low in the sky, lighting up the clouds in a variety of colors that SodaPop can’t really appreciate. It’s a quiet evening. Expectant, almost. SodaPop sniffs the ground, a mixture of gravel and soft tree needles, until he finds a few spots that other animals have marked. He leaves his own mark on them. Thoroughly.

His business done, SodaPop gives himself a little shake and takes stock of his surroundings. There are no cars in front of the cabin. The forest is alive with animal smells. Lara’s definitely missed Walk Time. But even a Good Boy can take himself for a walk once in a while, right?

Still, his first move is to look for a human. Lara may be late, but there’s sure to be another human around somewhere. SodaPop likes humans, and he’d rather go exploring with one than without. Lara says it’s because he’s a “companion breed.” He just knows that things are sort of boring without a human there to watch. 

There are no humans outside at the moment, but he does find the back door to Jake’s house hanging slightly ajar. He paws it open and trots inside.

SodaPop doesn’t usually come into Jake’s house. It has a weird, musty smell that he doesn’t like. The humans never mention it, but he can tell there’s something slightly wrong. He thinks it’s in the walls, whatever it is. Something that shouldn’t be there. It’s there in the back entry, and it’s probably there in the kitchen. SodaPop can’t be sure because he can only smell the lunch meat that someone left on the counter.

Lunch meat! Out all on its own! SodaPop hurries over to it. He stands up as tall as he can on his back legs, but he can only get his nose to the edge of the counter. It’s there, though. He’s sure of it. It smells like bologna. It’s been sitting out for a while, so the scent is nice and settled. Delicious. He hops and scratches over the counter’s edge, but it’s not quite enough. Finally, he takes several steps back, then runs at it and leaps as high as he can. He slams shoulder-first into the counter and falls gracelessly to the floor. In the process, though, one of his front claws just snags the edge of a plastic package, and four whole slices of bologna scatter onto the floor. Jackpot. 

He bolts down the bologna as fast as he can — practically inhales it — then licks his lips and searches for more. The musty smell is so strong it makes him sneeze, but he thinks that somewhere inside it there might be a discarded chicken nugget in the living room. That’s promising. 

Jake’s house is small, though probably adequate for his needs. There’s the kitchen, a bedroom, an entry area, and a long, narrow living room. Soda sets off to inspect them all. In the living room, he finds a couch. The cabin doesn’t have a couch. He hops up on it, rubs his face along the cushions, rolls to scratch his back. It smells softly of cheesy chips, and now, so does SodaPop. He sniffs at an old mouse’s nest in one corner and finds the half-eaten chicken nugget under the coffee table. It’s been there for at least a few days. Delightfully aged, if you ask SodaPop. 

He moves to explore Jake’s bedroom, but stops in the doorway. The musty smell is stronger than before. It’s sharp, here, and extremely unpleasant. There’s a hint of pheromone smell to it, like some spiders emit to try to lure in prey. SodaPop can feel the hair on the back of his neck trying to puff up. He sniffs the air carefully and peeks around. The back wall of Jake’s bedroom is streaked with long, black lines. They curve and bend in a sickening way as they move from floor to ceiling, occasionally branching out into horrible little blobs. 

SodaPop sneezes. Then he shakes. Whatever this is, he can’t be near it anymore. He growls softly and beats a hasty exit through the back door.

When he gets back outside, SodaPop feels a bit shaken. What was that thing? Nothing good, surely. In fact, the more he thinks about it — OH MY GOD, A SQUIRREL!

A REAL SQUIRREL

ON THE GROUND

LOOKING AT HIM.

It’s just a few yards away, oddly dark in color with bright, glowing eyes. SodaPop lunges at it immediately. You can’t delay with a squirrel. The squirrel turns and runs, and the chase is on.

Now, listen: all squirrels are bastards. But this one’s in a league all its own. It zigs and zags through the underbrush, ducks under bushes and sails through ferns. SodaPop sprints after it, clumsy but determined. At one point, the squirrel disappears into a fallen log, and SodaPop barks incessantly until it darts back out. They run a slalom through the trees. He loses it near a little stream and looks around, desperately, until he spots it staring at him from some tall grass. It twitches its tail enticingly before it darts away again. If SodaPop could think, he might wonder why it stays on the ground instead of escaping up a tree. But he can’t think. He can only chase.

It’s impossible to say how long they run, first in the mossy low spots and then far up the hill. SodaPop’s tongue hangs out of his mouth, sending flecks of foam flying back onto his cheeks and chest. And always the squirrel is just ahead of him, almost in his jaws, barely out of reach.

Then SodaPop leaps over a fallen branch and lands hard on his back leg. Pain shoots through his knee just as the squirrel finally, finally climbs up a tree trunk. He cries, a wail of pain and frustration. The squirrel just watches. It practically smiles. All squirrels are bad. But this is a very bad squirrel.

He kicks out his leg a few times, until the knee joint pops back into place. This happens sometimes when he overextends himself. A luxating patella, the vet called it. It’s usually fine as long as he can set his own pace. He wonders if the squirrel knew somehow. It’s hard for him to fathom trickery, but he’d put nothing past a squirrel. Yes, all squirrels are bastards. Every single one.

It stares down at him. It’s all the wrong colors, he realizes. And worse, it has the same sharp smell he found in Jake’s house. Now that he’s got a moment to think, he realizes it’s been in his  nose for a while. Now it jabs at his sinuses, so wrong it’s actually uncomfortable. 

SodaPop doesn’t really know what evil is. But this squirrel might be it.

SodaPop growls, low and menacing. He gathers his weight carefully. Maybe if he can jump high enough…

[Sound of CAT yowl and hiss.]

Something smacks him hard across his nose. SodaPop squeals and spins in a quick circle, ready to face his attacker. 

It’s a cat.

He stops, baffled. SodaPop has never had a problem with cats. Sure, he’ll chase one if it’s already running, or looks like it’s about to run, and yes, sometimes that means running up to them to see if they might like to run. But it’s not like he’d actually hurt one if he somehow caught it. Surely they know that.

This cat is hefty and muscular, shorter than he is but much heavier. Her dark gray fur is fluffy and long, making her appear even wider than she is. The corner of one ear has been clipped cleanly, some time long ago, and there’s a faded scar above her left eye. She smells of straw and mouse blood. A barn cat.

The cat watches him, green-gold eyes expressionless. She holds one paw slightly aloft, claws retracted, like she’s ready to smack him again if he makes a wrong move.

First, SodaPop checks the tree. The squirrel is gone. He whines and throws the cat an offended look. He almost had it. Cats know about squirrels. Why would she let it get away?

The cat just watches him. She is very still, and he is very tired, so he elects to sit. He wipes his paw across his muzzle. There’s no blood, no injury. She lowers her own paw, confirming that the conflict between them is over. The swipe was a warning, not an attack. But it still wasn’t very nice.

SodaPop sniffs the air. The sharp smell is gone, replaced by a tapestry of nature scents and sounds. Songbirds have mostly settled in for the night, and night birds have begun to stir. SodaPop can tell that a family of raccoons live nearby. A coyote’s come through here in the last day or so. A few weeks before that, there was a bear. But he can’t tell where home is. He can’t even locate his own trail. And there are no humans here.

SodaPop looks over at the cat again and tilts his head. She flicks her tail slightly and takes a few steps toward a nearby fern. At the edge of it she pauses, thinks for a moment, then looks his way and lets out a soft, high-pitched trill. He hesitates, then follows her.

[SFX: Nighttime forest sounds.]

Above them, a crow calls out for its mate. Upwind, the raccoon counts her kits before she leads them out of the den. The shadows from the trees are so long they almost blend together. And a little dog follows a cat, who seems to know the way.

OUTRO

Thank you for listening to the Tale of SodaPop, part one. 

This episode was written, edited, and narrated by Julie Saunders. The role of SodaPop was played by Archie. The Barn Cat was played by Lulu. Music for this episode was provided by Epidemic Sound -- please see the show notes for titles and composers.

If you want the rest of the story right now, it’s available at Patreon.com/believerpodcast. Otherwise, part two will be out next Tuesday. Until then, please take care of yourself. You deserve to see what tomorrow’s like.

TRANSCRIPT: Prequel - Sun and Moon

A PDF version of this transcript is available here.

CONTENT NOTE

Just a quick note, this episode is a prequel, so it’s set about 4 years before the events of season 1. It also contains strong language and material that may not be appropriate for all listeners. Please see the show notes for more information.

A chime sounds.

INT. LARA'S APARTMENT

LARA CAMPBELL takes a few deep breaths.

LARA: Okay, here we go...

She types.

LARA: Dear Rose Boone...

She stops, hits the delete button several times.

LARA: Miss Boone...

She smashes the delete key again.

LARA: Hi, Rose! This is Lara Campbell, from Lara Campbell's Paranormal Services. Elizabeth Fink from Southern Oregon University sent me your resume and said that you were interesting in helping --

Delete, delete.

LARA: Assisting --

Delete, delete, delete.

LARA: Joining me...the team for this project. Please let me know if --

Delete, delete, delete...

LARA: Please contact me at your earliest convenience. Sincerely...

She hesitates. She continues.

LARA: Sincerely, Lara Campbell.

She pauses to read it back, mumbling indistinctly as she does so.

LARA: Is that too many Lara Campbells? No. Yeah. Okay.

Mouse click. A happy-sounding send sound.

A beat.

An incoming message sound. Lara clicks on it.

ROSE (V.O.): Dear Lara, ye --

That's it.

LARA: Huh?

Another incoming message.

ROSE (V.O.): Sorry, accidentally hit send. Yes, sounds great. Please send info.

Lara considers this.

LARA: Okay...

Another incoming message.

ROSE: Sorry, forgot to include updated contact info. Just learned to do emails on my phone, LOL. See below. -- Rose.

Lara drums her fingers on her desk.

LARA: Well, it's not like anyone else applied.

TITLES

"Believer Theme" plays.

JULIE: Believer: Sun and Moon.

INT./EXT. ROSE'S CAR - DAY

Music plays over a car stereo, which drives down a country road.

LARA (V.O.): Dear Rose, I'm so glad you've decided to assist with this case. I've attached all the details, along with a list of supplies that you'll need. The college should have everything available. This case concerns the Corwin Lake House, a small cottage built near Crater Lake in 1919.

The car slows and then parks. Car door opens.

EXT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Outdoor sounds. Music continues from within the car.

LARA (V.O.): It was built by Peter Corwin, who died under mysterious circumstances in 2004, which is when his grand-nephew, Roger Corwin, inherited it.

Rose walks across the dirt. She whistles softly.

ROSE (to herself): Wow. This place is a disaster. Makes sense why I had to bring all the camping stuff.

LARA (V.O.): The House is in considerable disrepair due to a fire a few years back. Since inheriting it, Roger Corwin has tried to renovate or demolish it a few times. Every time, the contractors he hires have to abandon the job before they can start. Once there was a full electrical outage and they couldn't operate any equipment. Another crew all contracted the same mystery illness. A third had so many freak accidents on the site that OSHA shut them down.

ROSE: This is going to be awesome.

She walks back toward the car. She pops the trunk.

Rose groans.

ROSE: This is so much stuff. There's no way I'll use all of this. Right?

LARA (V.O.): Local legend is that the place is haunted. There have been a few attempts to investigate or exorcise the place, but they've all failed. I think I know why.

She sighs and begins lifting heavy objects out of the trunk.

ROSE: Guess I should've expected the long packing list when I saw how long her emails were.

LARA (V.O.): Peter Corwin was involved with the Sun And Moon Club, a tiny occult group in southern Oregon that was loosely related to Aleister Crowley's Order of the Golden Dawn. Please see attached information for Aleister Crowley, occult magician, 1875 - 1947.

A crash as a heavy machine falls to the ground.

ROSE: Uh, let's just hope that wasn't important.

LARA (V.O.): In the 1910s, Crowley attempted something called the Abramelin Operation in a small house near Loch Ness. The ritual is supposed to summon your guardian angel for ultimate knowledge, but he was interrupted. The house has been haunted ever since. I think something similar happened at the Corwin Lake House.

Rose pauses, UNLOCKS her phone.

ROSE: Wait, how many emails did this lady send me?

LARA: See, what the previous investigators missed is that the Sun And Moon Club was obsessed with duality -- the idea that everything in the world is composed of both itself and its opposite. Hence, sun and moon, representing night and day. Everything comes with an opposite.

ROSE: Oh my god, it just keeps going!

LARA (V.O.): So if they did their own Abramelin-style ritual, they would've used two locations.

ROSE: Okay, screw it.

She locks the phone again.

Rose shoulders a big duffle bag and walks across the dirt.

LARA (V.O.): I found a Ley Line that runs from Crater Lake, through the Oregon Vortex, out to the Oregon Caves. The lake is elevated, so its opposite might be a source of water that's underground, right? Well, the Oregon Caves were made by an underground river.

Rose pulls open a very creaky old door and coughs.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Rose walks across creaky wooden floors. She drops the duffle heavily.

LARA (V.O.): Therefore, we need investigators at both locations. You'll go to Corwin Lake House. I'll go to the Oregon Caves. I think I've found a cave that mirrors the layout of Corwin Lake House. We'll each stay the night at our investigation sites and share the data. Together, I think we can figure this out.

Rose unzips the duffle.

ROSE: So I guess I'll sleep on the least charred part of the floor.

LARA (V.O.): Since cell reception is an issue, please see the attached schedule for regular check-ins. At those times, get to a place with cell and internet so we can sync our data. It's vital that we use the same instruments in the same way so all data matches up. Please see attached layout for where to place the following items.

Rose sifts through a pile of electronics.

LARA (V.O.): EVP machine for capturing electronic voice phenomena. Continually scans radio waves for unexplained sounds.

Rose clicks on the EVP machine, which plays static.

ROSE: Fancy radio.

LARA (V.O.): Infrared thermometer. Please scan regularly for cold spots.

Soft beep of the thermometer.

ROSE: 44 degrees. Or should I do it in Celsius? 7 degrees. This whole place is a cold spot.

LARA (V.O.): Most important is the EMF machine. The one I use is slightly larger than usual.

Rose grunts as she slides a heavy machine into place.

LARA (V.O.): This is crucial for early detection of paranormal phenomena, so please treat it with care.

Rose presses several buttons on the machine. It beeps on, then immediately dies.

ROSE: Probably shouldn't have dropped it.

LARA (V.O.): Finally, please leave a recorder rrunning at all times for record-keeping purposes.

ROSE: Oh, right.

Rose digs through the duffle bag. A happy beep-boop sound signals the voice recorder is on.

ROSE: Testing, testing, this is Rose Boone, ready for a creepy weekend at a burnt-out cabin. Over?

She clicks it off, hits rewind, hits play.

ROSE (RECORDER): Ready for a creepy weekend at a --

She clicks it off and rewinds again.

ROSE: Great. Okay.

Beep-boop!

ROSE: Rose Boone, Corwin Lake House, day one. It's about 10 o'clock in the morning. Current temperature readings at forty -- I mean, seven degrees Celsius. Pretty standard for this time of year. This place is barely standing. Everything is covered in ash, there are big gaps in all the walls and ceiling, most of the furniture is gone.

She steps across the wooden floor.

ROSE: It is pretty, though. You can just see the lake from the window. Well, it's a gaping hole, really, but I think it used to be a window.

She takes a deep breath.

ROSE: The place feels...ready. It's quiet, but there's definitely some kind of energy here. It's like it's been waiting for me.

She pulls out a chair and sits.

ROSE: Well, I'm here. Come out, come out, whatever you are. I'm ready too.

EXT. OREGON CAVES - DAY

Lara walks through the woods with NICK, a park ranger. They've been friends a long time.

LARA: Thanks for setting this up, Ranger Nick.

NICK: Can we just stick with Nick?

LARA: In that uniform? Never.

NICK: You parked where I told you, right?

LARA: At a random turnout, like, two miles from here? Yes. Do you need me to go back and cover it with camo netting or something?

NICK: Lara, nobody can know you're here.

LARA: I'm aware.

NICK: Like, really.

LARA: Nick. This is huge for me, you know? If I'm right about this, it's a totally unexplored paranormal phenomenon. Accurate data is crucial.

Nick grunts his acknowledgment. They walk a little more.

NICK: I thought you were working with someone on this.

LARA: Yeah, a student from SOU. Rose something.

NICK: You like her? Like is she good at ghost stuff?

LARA: Oh. I think so. We've just had the one video chat. Interview. Thing. (beat) She's one of those girls who's, like, annoyingly pretty, you know?

NICK (knowingly): Ah.

LARA: Not like that. I just mean she's like...you know that type?

NICK: Really pretty but straight?

LARA: No! Though, probably. She wears a cross. No, just, you know when you meet people and it's like, you know they experience the world totally differently from you, just because they look like that?

NICK: Oh yeah. I know all about that. She's good, though? Knows about caving safety?

LARA: Oh, she's not going in the caves. I sent her to the lake house. I couldn't ask some psych student to crawl down a dark hole for me.

NICK: Should've figured; you have to be practically married before you let someone into your hole.

LARA: Hey!

NICK (mocking): "Oh, Nick, I really like this person but we've been on twenty-seven dates, is that moving too fast if I kiss their cheek?"

LARA: I hate you.

NICK: Then stop calling me.

LARA: No, I'm gonna call you more. It's the only way you'll learn.

He chuckles. They stop. Lara drops her backpack full of gear.

LARA: So that's it, huh?

NICK: That's the entrance.

LARA: It's...small.

NICK: Which is fine, right? Because you're not claustrophobic.

LARA: No, of course not.

NICK: And you've got gear? Rope, lights, coveralls?

LARA: Rope, lights, machines, sleeping bag...

NICK: You're not seriously going to sleep down there, are you?

LARA: Nick, I have to. Just trust me.

NICK: Because there's a reason we don't include these caves in any of the tours. Like, you can't even book a private excursion here.

LARA: I know. I'll be fine.

Nick hesitates. He hits a button on his walkie-talkie.

NICK: Here. Take my radio. In case of an emergency.

LARA: But won't you get in trouble if they hear me on the radio?

NICK: Yes. So don't have an emergency.

LARA: Got it.

She clicks it on and off a few times.

NICK: Just -- leave it off unless you need it, please.

She clicks it off.

LARA: I love it when I get to see your gooey center.

NICK: Yeah. I'm leaving. Stay safe.

LARA: Roger roger, Ranger Nick!

He groans and walks off into the forest.

INT. CAVE - MOMENTS LATER

A wide chamber in the underground cave system. Drips fall from stalactites. There's a distant source of water somewhere. Everything echoes.

Lara grunts with effort as she crawls through the entrance. She scrambles onto the ground.

LARA: Whew. That was tight.

She drags a bag of gear in behind her and rummages through it.

LARA: Okay, recorder, and...

Beep-boop! Same recorder sound from Rose's scenes.

LARA: Lara Campbell, official log, March 16, 2014, approximately 10:14 AM Pacific Daylight Time.

She sets the recorder down and continues going through equipment.

LARA: I am inside the cave. The entrance is tight, a real squeeze. Possible support for a birth canal metaphor. Currently breaking glowsticks for more light.

She breaks a few glowsticks.

LARA: Exact measurements recorded separately, but it looks similar in size to the main room in the Corwin Lake House plans.

A beat. Cave sounds.

LARA: It's...dark. Like, really dark. I mean, you know it's going to be dark in an underground cave, but...wow. (beat) Okay. Let me get some initial readings.

She sets up various gear -- repeat sounds from Rose's previous scene:

EVP machine (static)

LARA: EVP has no signal, as expected.

EMF machine -- makes same start-up noise, then whirs to life.

LARA: EMF also reading at near zero.

The infrared thermometer beeps.

LARA: Seven degrees Celsius. A detailed temperature map will be included with the final packet, but this is standard year-round in the caves.

She takes a few steps and then calls out.

LARA: Is there anyone here? Any entity, any spirit? If there is anyone here, I'd like to know more about you.

She sets up a small metal box.

LARA: This is a highly-tuned, sensitive device you can use to communicate with me, if you choose. Just press this button for yes --

She clicks a button. A high tone sounds.

LARA: And this button for no.

Another button. A low tone this time.

LARA: If you want to talk, just hit either button three times.

She demonstrates, presses the high tone three times in rhythmic succession.

LARA: Okay?

She waits. No response.

LARA: Okay. Well, I'm here if you want to talk. I'm going to set up camp over here. (to herself) And then, I guess I'll just...wait.

She begins setting up gear.

INT. LAKE HOUSE - DAY

Rose tosses rocks across the floor, bored. After a moment, she picks up the recorder.

ROSE: It has been...two hours. No ghosts. It's nice up here, though. (deep breath) Nature. I think I hear a blue jay.

She drums her fingers on the wood floor.

ROSE: I know. Let's try a tarot read. (to the mic) Oh, uh, I left my cross in the car. Just, you know, in case? But you didn't say anything about personal items, and I just started learning to do this so I thought...well, it's all getting recorded.

She shuffles cards.

ROSE: Okay, Lake House. Tell me about yourself.

She flips over three cards.

ROSE: Ooh. The Empress, The Moon, and the Hanged Man. So we have mother earth, the element of illusion and intuition, and a man who waits to change his point of view. So that could mean, let me look it up...

Rose's phone rings. She grabs it.

ROSE: Hello? Oh, Mom. No, I can't talk now, I'm working. It's a job, Mom, what do you think?
(beat)
I know what Dad said. But, you know, what if the Youth Ministry does it without me this year? (rolls eyes)
They'll be fine, Mom. Those kids don't care what I think.
(beat)
Come on, it's one church trip. It's not like I'm trying conjure the...well.

She looks at the tarot cards and trails off.

Unintelligible sounds come through - the person on the other end sounds angry. Rose sighs, having heard this lecture many times.

ROSE: Oh my god, I can spend one spring break away from home. Besides, they need me here, you know the girl running this thing is...she's actually pretty cool. A little uptight, but...
(beat)
No, I broke up with Sandra over a month ago.
(beat)
Well, that's going to be pretty hard, Mom, because as I have told you, I only date women.

Angry sounds again. Rose talks over them.

ROSE: Okay, well I've gotta -- the reception here is -- ughhh!

She hangs up.

ROSE (sarcastic): Oh no, the call dropped.

She notices the microphone.

ROSE: Wait, was this thing on that whole...shit.

She shuts it off.

INT. VIDEO CALL - DAY

A remote VIDEO CALL app rings, then connects with a little bloopy sound.

LARA: Hello? Rose?

ROSE: Hey! Um, is your camera off?

LARA: Sorry, let me just...

ROSE: Oh, there you -- no, now the screen's frozen.

LARA: The reception...
(crackle)
...tty bad.

ROSE: Yeah, it's not great here either.

LARA: Everything okay at the lake house?

ROSE: Yeah, yeah, I drove right up. Are you at the cave? You look...

LARA: What?

ROSE: Um, nothing.

LARA: Oh, yeah, you have to crawl through the mud to get in and out of the cave.

ROSE: I see. Well, the cabin is barely standing. I don't know why anyone's worried about a construction crew when it's literally about to fall over.

LARA: Well, you know, there's debris and...

ROSE: Okay, yes, I know they need to have professionals do it. I was making a joke.

LARA: Oh. Yeah.

ROSE: Listen, um, it's actually really cool up here. There's an energy to it, you know? It just feels so alive. There's definitely a presence here.

LARA: Have you seen anything?

ROSE: No, it's just...a feeling. So what is this thing, anyway? You said something about binding demons?

LARA: That's what the original ritual calls for. You have to bind the 12 Dukes and Kings of Hell before your guardian angel will appear.

ROSE: Okay, but it's not really like a -- like a demon - demon, is it?

LARA: Oh, I don't know.

ROSE: What?

LARA: I mean, I think the Sun and Moon Club -- that's the one Peter Corwin was a part of -- I think they were trying to do something different. I only found a couple snippets of things, but they seem to talk about it in terms of a birth.

ROSE: So it's a baby demon.

LARA: Well, demon is kind of a loaded term.

ROSE: Right.

LARA: But you should be fine. You put up the seals and signs I gave you, right?

ROSE (definitely not): Oh, uh...yeah. Yeah, of course.

LARA: It's in the binder. You went through the whole binder, right? And the PowerPoint presentation?

ROSE (no, she didn't): Yeah, of course I have the binder. It's very comprehensive.

LARA: Well, this is kind of my first big case. I just want to make sure I covered everything.

ROSE: Sure, but, um, what do you want to actually, like, do?

LARA: What?

ROSE: Like are we trying to exorcise this thing, or is it just research? If I make contact with this thing, what should I say?

LARA: You haven't tried to contact it, have you?

ROSE: I thought that's why I was here.

LARA: Well, first I want to make sure I have good data.

ROSE: Can't demons look like any kind of data they want?

LARA: So like I said, demon is kind of a loaded term...

ROSE: So it seems like the best way is to just talk to it.

Lara hesitates.

LARA: Can you...do that?

ROSE: Lara. If you want me to be your partner on this, you're going to have to trust me.

LARA: Yeah...

ROSE: Because that's what you wanted, right? A partner?

LARA: Um.

ROSE: Because that's what you said in the email. And the interview.

LARA: Yeah. Yeah, I do. But, um, you know how to use the machines and everything, right?

ROSE: God. Yes, okay? I know what I'm doing. Everything is fine.

LARA: Okay, well, take a look at the EMF reader, because some of the readings you sent over is a little strange.

ROSE (that's because she made it up): Huh. Weird.

LARA: Connection is probably --
(glitchy static)
So I should head back...what?

ROSE (stifling laughter): Nothing! There's just so much mud on your face.

LARA: Okay, well, like I said --

ROSE: Is it up your nose?

LARA: I'll clean up before the next call.

ROSE: That would help.

LARA (annoyed): It's not really the point, but...

ROSE: Lara. I'm joking. It's cute!

LARA: Oh. Um. Thank you.

ROSE: I'm sorry.

LARA It's -- it's fine.
(static)
-- just gotta go. Wait, you're still recording everything, ri--

The connection breaks off.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Rose grabs the recorder.

ROSE: Oh, shit, the recorder.

She clicks it back on. Beep-boop!

ROSE: Sorry for the break in the recording, it, uh, malfunctioned. All good now.

She sets the recorder down.

ROSE: I mean, if you knew my mom, you'd...forget it. All systems reading normal. Nothing to do but wait.

INT. CAVE - LATER

Drips and echoes. All is quiet.

LARA: Okay, EMF readings holding steady at...almost zero. EVP also picking up zero. Temperature change, none. Just a big, creepy, dark, damp cave. Which is good. This is baseline. If I'm right, things will change soon. Which will be good. Good good.

A beat.

LARA: I wish I'd brought a chair.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE - DAY

Rose paces around the burnt-out house.

ROSE: Hello? Helloooo? Anybody here?

A beat.

ROSE: Yeah. Oh -- Tarot cards. Now where were we...

She shuffles the cards. A slight breeze moves through the room.

ROSE: Okay, spirit. Baby demon. Tell me what you are.

The breeze becomes a gust, and the cards fall on the floor.

ROSE: Hey! Ugh, damn it. Let me just...wait.

She picks up the recorder.

ROSE: Rose Boone, Corwin Lake House, 2:13PM. I just dropped my deck of Rider-Waite tarot cards. They all landed face-down except for one.

She takes a few steps on the creaky wooden floor.

ROSE: The Devil.

INT. CAVE

Lara sings to herself, obviously bored.

LARA: I'm in a cave. Iiiii'm in a cave. I'm in a cave trying to meditate. Doot de doo...

Suddenly, the high tone from the yes/no box plays.

LARA: Was that...?

It beeps again.

LARA: The yes/no box.
(to the cave)
Beep three times to...

It beeps again.

LARA: Oh my god.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE

Rose paces around.

ROSE: Okay. Okay. The Devil card doesn't really mean the Devil. I mean, it does but it doesn't. It's not like, um...here.

She picks up a book, leafs through the pages.

ROSE: There. Okay. Number fifteen. The Devil. Addiction, attachment, the shadow self. Can also indicate duality, as it depicts a man and a woman chained to the Devil's pedestal. Well, that doesn't really help.
(reads on)
"While the man and woman are chained, a close examination reveals the chains are loose around their necks. They can escape anytime they choose. However, the longer they stay, the more like the Devil they become."

The wind picks up. The windows rattle.

ROSE: Spirit of the House? Is that you?

The wind suddenly dies. Silence.

ROSE: Hello...?

INT. CAVE

Lara dusts herself off.

LARA: Alright. Okay. Press that button, the high tone, for yes, and the low tone for no. Okay?

High tone. Lara squeals.

LARA: Yes! Oh my god. Um, recording's on...let's talk.

High tone again.

LARA: Are you one who is dead?

A beat. The low tone sounds.

LARA: Low tone. No. Are you alive?

Low tone again.

LARA: Do you know that the low tone means no?

Silence.

LARA: Sorry, was that rude?

Silence.

LARA: Wait, don't -- are you neither alive nor dead?

A beat. High tone. Lara sighs, relieved.

LARA: Do you want to be alive?

High tone.

LARA: Do you need my help?

High tone. Lara laughs, almost giddy.

LARA: Okay. Wait. I forgot a question, um... Do you mean me harm?

A beat. The low tone sounds. Then the high tone. Then both, alternating fast, over and over.

There’s a low rumble through the cave. Lara steps back.

LARA: Listen, if I offended you somehow, um...

Suddenly, BATS fill the cave. They swoop through, dozens of them, squeaking and flapping their wings. Lara screams. They fly up, out the chutes at the top of the cave, and are gone.

And then...silence. Lara breathing hard.

LARA: Are you...still there?

Silence.

Lara sinks down onto the sleeping bag.

LARA: Okay. Good data.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE

Rose walks toward the rattling windows.

The EVP machine suddenly flips to a new channel. It bursts to life, playing old, creaky HYMNS on the radio. Rose gasps.

ROSE: It is you! Spirit, please. You can talk to me. What if we -- what if we try the cards again? Here. Tell me what you want.

She shuffles the cards. The hymn continues to play.

ROSE: The Fool...The Sun...The Moon. The Sun and Moon Club?

A high tone rings out from the yes/no box, long and clear.

ROSE: Okay. Okay!

The wind picks up again. Rose shouts over the wind, the music, and the ringing high tone.

ROSE: I'll help you! I'm here to help you! Spirit?

And it all stops.

ROSE: I'll help you. It'll be okay.

Soft static from the EVP machine.

INT. VIDEO CALL - EVENING

An app rings, then connects.

LARA: Hi.

ROSE: I think I...talked to it.

LARA: Me too!

ROSE: Really?

LARA: Simultaneous phenomena! Oh, this could be huge.

ROSE: Yeah, I was doing this tarot read --

LARA: Wait, what? We didn't talk about tarot.

ROSE: And this wind picked up, right? Just -- whoosh! Running through the whole place. Because of the gaps in the walls. Right? And it just scattered my tarot deck.

LARA: See, but that's adding divination techniques to just one half of the experiment --

ROSE: Except this one card. The Devil.

A pause.

ROSE: Did you hear me? Is this thing breaking up?

LARA: Yeah. Just, this is a major variable I didn't account for.

ROSE: Oh my god, Lara. I'm telling you I talked to a ghost.

LARA: That claimed to be the Devil.

ROSE: No, no, it's the Devil card. Do you not know Tarot? The actual meaning is much more complex.

LARA: Just...put it in the report, please.

ROSE: I just thought I'd try something. I mean, there's nothing to do, and after the EMF reader broke, I figured --

LARA: Wait, what?!

ROSE: Oh, uh --

LARA: The EMF Reader is broken?

ROSE: I -- it -- something happened in transit.

LARA: Wait, so it's been broken all day? So you have no readings from the lake house at all.

ROSE: I did all the other things.

LARA: EMF is the most reliable measurement tool in the industry. I can't believe -- ugh!

ROSE (annoyed): Look, it was an accident, okay? And we both communicated with spirits anyway today, right? I mean, what happened to you in the cave?

LARA (still sulking): Listen, it's getting dark soon, and this thing will likely be most active at night.

ROSE: Lara...

LARA: It's fine. We'll just record everything and figure it out later. Make sure you have the wards up that I gave you. From the binder.

ROSE: Shouldn't I know what happened on your end?

LARA: We won't have any check-ins overnight because it's too disruptive to get a signal, so we have to make sure we're on the same page now.

ROSE: I have the binder.

LARA: Okay. Just...we don't know what this thing is, or what it wants. It could be dangerous.

ROSE: It didn't feel dangerous to me. More like...desperate.

LARA: Desperate things can be dangerous.

ROSE: I think it just wants our help.

LARA: Well, I think we should be careful and not mess up the data with a bunch of unplanned experiments. Okay?

ROSE: Okay.

LARA: Talk to you in the morning.

Lara disconnects.

ROSE (sarcastic): Looking forward to it.

INT. CAVE - NIGHT

Cave dripping sounds. Machines still going.

Lara shuffles in her sleep bag. She picks up the recorder.

LARA

(whispers)

It's after 11:15 PM. No activity so far.

(beat)

I don’t know why I’m whispering. It’s just...so quiet. And dark. So dark. Oppressive dark. I keep reminding myself that I can breathe.

(Beat)

There’s no difference between day and night down here. It’s just...I didn’t know it could be too dark to sleep, you know? Glad I brought extra lights.

Lara rummages in her bag, pulls out a glowstick. She breaks it, then jumps.

LARA

Oh my god...!

(beat)

Oh. Never mind. I thought I saw...nothing. Never mind. I should try to sleep.

She settles back into the sleeping bag.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE - NIGHT

Crickets. Owls. It's a clear night, with all the night animals out and about.

Rose stirs fitfully on a little cot.

She wakes up with a gasp. She takes a moment to get her bearings, realize where she is and that she's safe.

She grabs the recorder.

ROSE

I just had this...dream. God, it was so real. Um. I was walking in this long, flat desert. No trees, no plants, no life. Just silver sand as far as I could see. But there were stars. Not like stars we have here. These were huge, all different colors, bright and...dancing. They were so...I felt like I could see forever. Like if I looked up into those stars I’d see...everything. And as I looked at them I thought I could hear this...song. I could hear the stars sing.

(beat)

But then there was something there. In the desert. It was there but also not there, like an...anti-presence. It had arms that twisted in all directions, and at the center just this infinite...darkness. But it wasn't scary. It was...joyful. Comforting. I was so happy to see it.

(she smiles)

It told me to open my mouth. And then it reached out, and -- and I sang it too. I sang with the stars.

She takes a moment, chuckles softly, reliving the memory.

ROSE

And then it...it said something. Shit, I can't remember. It was important. It said something and then it said..."Look behind you."

Rose turns. She gasps.

She drops the microphone.

INT. CAVE - NIGHT

Lara sleeps fitfully, snores, then jolts awake.

LARA

What...what happened to the lights?

She breathes hard, frightened. She scrambles around in the dark, knocks something over, finally finds an electric lantern and clicks it on.

LARA

Okay...whew.

Something scuffs the ground, a few rocks fall.

LARA

What was that?

Water drips. Somewhere far down the cave system, a rock falls and echoes, echoes, echoes up the various tunnels.

LARA

( calls out)

Is someone there?

(to herself)

I'm going crazy. I had some kind of really weird dream, I...I think. I can't remember.

Suddenly, the HIGH TONE from the yes/no box sounds.

LARA

Hello? Is -- is that you?

No response.

LARA

God. I gotta get all the lights back on. Maybe the duration on them wasn't...

HIGH TONE again.

A beat.

LARA

I need to calibrate that thing.

LOW TONE.

LARA

Oh. Uh, sorry, I --

LOW TONE.

LARA

Okay. Okay! I'm sorry I doubted you. Let's talk.

LOW TONE. LOW TONE. LOW TONE.

FADE TO:

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE - NIGHT

Rose breathes, frightened.

ROSE

You're here.

The entity speaks in a soft, strange whisper...

ENTITY

Yes...

ROSE

You can speak.

Silence -- a soft wind blows.

ROSE

Was that you? In my dream?

ENTITY

Rose...no time...

ROSE

How do you know my name?

ENTITY

I want...to be...

ROSE

To be what? What are you?

ENTITY

Not alive. Not dead. It is...excruciating...I want...to be...

ROSE

What do you need?

ENTITY

A vessel...

ROSE

A body?

ENTITY

A vessel...to carry us...to each other...

ROSE

Like a jug?

ENTITY

We are in pieces...two halves...different but the same...

ROSE

Your other half...is it in the cave?

ENTITY

No time, Rose...No time...

ROSE

Wait! Tell me what to do.

ENTITY

I must go...rest...no time...

ROSE

No, don't go!

The wind GUSTS, and night sounds return to normal.

ROSE

Hello? Come back!

No response.

ROSE

Hello?

Silence.

ROSE

The recorder!

Rose picks up the microphone. She shuts it off, then REWINDS quickly. She clicks play. The recorder plays through tinny speakers.

ROSE (RECORDER)

Was that you? In my dream?

The entity's voice is replaced by STATIC.

ROSE

What? No.

ROSE (RECORDER)

How do you know my name?

Static.

ROSE

No. No no no...

ROSE (RECORDER)

To be what? What are --

She clicks stop, then fast-forwards briefly and hits play again.

ROSE (RECORDER)

...do you need?

Static.

ROSE (RECORDER)

A body?

Static.

ROSE

(overlapping recording)

Shit!

ROSE (RECORDER)

Like a jug?

Static.

ROSE

Shit, shit, shit! Why don't any of these stupid machines work?

She clicks stop. She throws the recorder.

She groans in frustration.

ROSE

Lara's gonna kill me.

FADE TO:

INT. CAVE - NIGHT

The repeating LOW TONE fades back in.

LARA

Are you...are you trying to play? Is this a game?

One long, droning LOW TONE.

Lara groans, covers her ears.

LARA

Okay! That's enough!

The drone morphs into a kind of otherworldly HOWL.

Lara screams.

It crescendos and then --

SILENCE.

Lara jolts awake.

LARA

Wait...what?

She scrambles up off the dirt.

LARA

Was that a...dream?

She shivers, suddenly feeling the cold.

LARA

Jesus, it's cold. How did I even get out of the sleeping bag?

She reaches for the sleeping bag, then jolts back. Bugs SKITTER out of it across the floor.

LARA

Gah! Cave crickets. Gross.

She rubs her arms.

LARA

Guess I'm awake now.

She grabs a jacket, shakes it out, then zips it up.

LARA

Maybe the machines got something.

INT. VIDEO CALL - MORNING

The call connects. Both women are exhausted, subdued.

ROSE

Morning.

LARA

Looks like you had an interesting night too.

ROSE

I spoke to it. Again. But for real this time.

LARA

What?

ROSE

It...appeared. Kind of. It knew my name.

LARA

It spoke? Words?

ROSE

Yeah. It says it wants be reunited with its other half.

LARA

Rose, that's incredible. Can you send me the recording?

ROSE

Well, the recorder didn't pick it up.

LARA

What?

ROSE

It's just my voice for some reason.

LARA

And I'm guessing the EMF is still broken.

ROSE

Well...

LARA

So there's no proof.

ROSE

I'm telling you it happened. Isn't that enough?

Lara sighs.

LARA

What did it say?

ROSE

It said...there's no time. And it needs a "vessel" to carry it to its other half.

LARA

A vessel? What, like a jug?

ROSE

I'm not sure. It said that it's half-born, not alive and not dead. It...hates it. Being halfway.

LARA

So I was right. About the Sun and Moon Club. They were trying to birth a new entity. Rose, this is amazing.

ROSE

(preoccupied)

Yeah.

LARA

What is it?

ROSE

I was just thinking...do you know The Origin of Love?

LARA

Oh. That's a deep question.

ROSE

No, it's a story. From Plato, writing about Aristophanes. It says that originally, all humans were made up of two parts, two people fused together. Four hands, four feet, two heads. And they were different genders, like, some of them were two male halves, and some two female halves, some one of each. Every combination.

LARA

Right.

ROSE

Anyway, the gods got mad at them for some reason, I can't remember, and they split them all in half. And that's what humans are now. We're incomplete, walking around looking for the other halves of ourselves. And when two pieces find each other, they know real happiness. Completion.

LARA

Huh.

ROSE

I don't know, this just reminded me of it.

LARA

Two halves that make up one whole.

ROSE

What do you think this thing is, once it's put back together?

LARA

I don't know. I don't know if we should find out.

(beat)

Listen, um, I'm sorry about before. Yesterday. The yelling. I should've been more of a partner.

ROSE

Yeah.

LARA

It's just that you're so...and I'm so...so it's just like...you know?

ROSE

Um...no?

LARA

Sorry, nothing, I'm -- I'm tired. I had this dream.

ROSE

Me too.

LARA

It was terrifying.

ROSE

Oh. Mine was beautiful.

LARA

I think this thing...I don't think its intentions are good.

ROSE

Why? What did it say to you?

LARA

It didn't use words. It was more of a...feeling. I'm thinking we should prepare a banishing ritual. Just in case.

ROSE

What? No!

LARA

Just in case!

ROSE

That's not what it wants.

LARA

I don't think we should do what it wants.

ROSE

It wants to be born. It lives in agony. "Excruciating," it said.

LARA

Rose, if it can speak, then it can lie. This is really dangerous.

ROSE

Well, I think we have to take a chance here.

Lara hesitates.

LARA

How about this. We'll gather materials for a ritual. See what other information you can get. We can regroup around noon and decide what to do then.

ROSE

What do we have to do?

LARA

We each need to find four objects that represent each of the four classical elements. Earth, fire, water, air. And some kind of vessel to hold each one.

ROSE

That's what the spirit wanted. A vessel.

LARA

So we're on the right track, then. After that you need some kind of oil to anoint yourself with. They would've used something called Abramelin oil, but pretty much any kind of water or oil should work.

ROSE

I might actually have something for that. My parents do this kind of faith healing thing.

LARA

Oh. Your parents are, like, preachers?

Thunder rumbles.

ROSE

Yeah, I'm a lesbian psychic with a preacher dad. Can we move along?

It starts to rain.

LARA

Oh, you're a...I didn't...

ROSE

Can we hurry this along? I think there's a storm coming in and the reception's about to get even worse.

LARA

Right. Okay. Next you draw a pentagram on the floor.

ROSE

A pentagram? Aren't those Satanic?

LARA

As much as Tarot is Satanic.

ROSE

Makes sense, I guess.

More thunder.

LARA

Storm's on my end, too.

ROSE

Interesting. Okay, what next?

LARA

You set a strong intention and ask the spirit to leave.

ROSE

Like is there an incantation? Or do we just say, like, "Please leave?"

LARA

(audio glitching)

Listen, the storm is getting...can we...later?

ROSE

What?

LARA

Just get what you can.

(static)

Noon, okay?

ROSE

What? You're breaking up.

LARA

We'll talk at noon.

ROSE

Okay --

(glitching, static)

If we can -- I'm sure it -- okay?

LARA

I'm not --

Static. The line drops.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE - DAY

Rose walks around the uneven floor.

ROSE

Okay, so, vessels. I wonder if there are any old vases or something in here.

She opens a few cabinets.

ROSE

Empty...empty...oh!

She opens a cabinet door a nd a BUNCH OF OLD GLASS JARS AND WINE GLASSES FALL OUT.

ROSE

Jars and wine glasses. That'll work. As long as it's not too...ow! Shit, now I'm bleeding.

She hurries across the floor.

As she does, the EVP MACHINE suddenly clicks on. It searches radio stations and lands on a religious channel:

PREACHER (RADIO)

This is he that came by water and blood --

(static)

-- water only, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit that --

It returns to static.

ROSE

Um...

Stations flip again.

ROSE

I mean, that thing just scans channels randomly, right? That's not...

It flips channels again. A snippet of music. Then, the religious station again:

PREACHER (RADIO)

That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is --

Static.

ROSE

Is it you? Spirit? Is this how you speak during the day?

Scanning channels again. Thunder rumbles. The machine CLICKS OFF.

ROSE

Flesh...and blood.

She considers. Rain falls.

EXT. OREGON CAVES - DAY

Lara walks through the woods.

LARA

Okay...for the record.

She turns on the recorder with a blip-bloop!

LARA

Gathering elements for a potential banishing ritual. I set out a tray to catch some rain, for water. I'm gonna grab some earth from right outside the opening to help lure the spirit out there. I don't want to light a fire in there, but hopefully an orange glow stick will work. Air is a little tricky, but I was thinking...

A STELLER'S JAY call rings out.

LARA

Bird feathers. Now let me just see if...

She grabs at some twigs.

LARA

I gotta set this down.

Bloop-blip! Recorder is off.

Lara fumbles in the branches of a tree for a few moments.

LARA

Okay, um...jackpot!

An odd, distorted version of the HOWLING SCREAM from last night rings out.

Lara cries out, stumbles backward, and falls into the grass.

LARA

What was that?

She's quiet for a moment. It doesn't repeat. Just the STELLER'S JAY again.

Suddenly, Lara's WALKIE-TALKIE sputters to life.

NICK (RADIO)

Steller's Jays are excellent mimics.

Lara jumps again.

LARA

What -- oh god, the walkie.

She rummages through some things and unclips it.

NICK (RADIO)

Oh yeah, they copy other birds, construction noises...pretty much anything they hear often enough.

LARA

I thought this was off.

NICK (RADIO)

Yeah.

He laughs, apparently talking to someone else. The transmission ends.

LARA

Oh...it is off.

(beat)

Okay, so that was weird.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE

Thunder and rain. The storm is beginning in earnest.

Rose sets out a JAR FULL OF PEBBLES.

ROSE

Okay. Jar of rocks for earth. Electronics moved away from the leaky spots in the roof.

ROSE

Microphone still on. This thing has, like, forever batteries.

Water drips. She sets a bucket underneath it.

ROSE

Water. That works.

She sighs, hesitates.

ROSE

For the record, I bandaged my hand. Although I wonder if...no. Using my blood to summon an unknown spiritual entity seems...unwise.

Thunder. Loud. Close. The house shakes.

The EVP machine clicks on. In the static:

ENTITY (RADIO)

I need...to live...

It reverts to static.

ROSE

Um...

On the laptop, a BEEP and then the recorded clip from the previous night plays.

ROSE (RECORDING)

What do you need?

Static in response.

A quick FAST-FORWARD noise, then:

ROSE (RECORDING)

Wait! Tell me what to do.

This repeats, like a skipping record.

ROSE (RECORDING)

Wait! Tell me what to do. Tell me what to do. Tell me what to do.

ROSE

Spirit? This is scaring me...

The thunder hits again, hard, rattling everything. The static and repeating recording continue.

FADE TO:

INT. CAVE - SAME

It's quiet. Just dripping and other cave noises.

Lara drags a piece of CHALK along the ground.

LARA

And there's the pentagram. Okay -- dirt for earth, rain for water, light for fire, feather for air. Prepped some oil earlier, so that's on standby. Walkie-talkie still...off.

She takes a breath. Looks around for a beat.

LARA

So that's...everything. Oh!

She picks up the mic.

LARA

Recorder still running. Everything is set up for the ritual. I'm just waiting for my next check-in call with Rose in a few minutes. Hopefully we can pull this off.

She fidgets. Considers.

LARA

You know, she could be right. About the spirit. It might be benign. I could always try to...connect with it somehow. I guess. See what I can find out. I'm not psychic, but sometimes I get...feelings.

She sets the mic down on the floor, sits.

LARA

Okay, spirit. Half-spirit. I'm open. Tell me what you are.

She takes a deep breath.

BACK TO:

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE

Chaos and noise, as before. Rose suddenly CRIES OUT in pain.

ROSE

Aghh! My hand!

She struggles, fights. She FALLS hard onto the ground.

ROSE

No!

Thunder rumbles again.

Rose slides sideways. She IMPACTS some jars and glass bottles.

ROSE

I'm trying to help you!

The EVP machine flips channels.

PREACHER (RADIO)

Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of Heaven.

It flips channels again.

Rose struggles to her feet. She falls again.

ROSE

How are you doing this?

Thunder. Static. Rattling glass.

The laptop plays again, awkwardly jumping into the middle of a recording.

ROSE (RECORDING)

Number fifteen. The Devil. Addiction, attachment, the shadow self. Can also indicate duality, as it depicts --

Rose struggles to her feet.

ROSE

The laptop. I've got to call Lara.

ROSE (RECORDING)

this infinite...darkness. But it wasn't scary. It was...joyful. Comforting. I was so --

Rose fights her way across the floor, GRUNTING as she goes.

ROSE (RECORDING)

Wait! Tell me --

Rose clicks it off.

ROSE

Okay, okay, video call. Lara.

She clicks. The video call sound rings out. It rings and rings. Then disconnects.

ROSE

No! No!

She clicks again. The ringing begins again.

Thunder. Rattling. A glass jar BURSTS.

ROSE

Come on, come on, come on...

The app rings again.

FADE TO:

EXT. OREGON CAVES - DAY

It's raining, hard. Lara crawls out of the entrance hole, stands, and dusts herself off.

LARA

Well, that was a waste of time. Or it was peaceful. I guess it depends on interpretation.

Soft rumble of thunder.

Lara unlocks her phone, goes to tap something, and -- it instantly connects.

LARA

Rose?

Noise, chaos comes through the phone's speakers.

ROSE (PHONE)

Lara? It's not what we thought. Lara! You need to run.

She screams. The call drops.

LARA

Rose? Rose!

Lara calls back. The phone rings once, then drops.

LARA

Oh my god. Um. Maybe if I go back in and do the ritual --

v A loud RUMBLE. Lara SHOUTS as everything shakes. Rocks fall. She scrambles out of the way.

Lara rights herself, breathing hard.

LARA

The entrance. It's...

She GRUNTS as she tries to pull a few rocks aside.

LARA

It's totally collapsed.

Lara hesitates. She grabs her phone. Blip-bloop! Recording app is on.

LARA

For the record. The entrance tunnel has collapsed. Rose is...something's happening at the lake house. If it needs both of us to end this, then I need to get back inside.

She takes a few steps in the mud.

LARA

I think I have an alternate way in. Those bats get out somehow, right?

She hesitates again. Thunder.

LARA

Yeah. Okay. I'm going in.

Blip-bloop. Recording off. Lara climbs the rocks.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE

The call ends. Rose clicks frantically.

ROSE

Lara? Lara!

A recording plays from the laptop again.

ROSE (RECORDING)

it reached out, and -- and I sang it too. I sang --

Rose THROWS the laptop with a grunt. It slams into a wall and breaks.

The EVP machine clicks on.

PREACHER (RADIO)

That which is flesh is --

Rose hits it hard. It statics to silence.

ROSE

No! You can't talk to me. You don't get to do this.

Quiet for a moment. Just rain.

ROSE

Lara said it's about intention. Okay, well, I intend for you to leave.

Thunder again, even louder. The whole house shakes, the glass rattles.

INT. CAVE TUNNEL

Lara CRAWLS through the tunnel, grunting and scrambling.

LARA

(With effort)

Okay, it’s a little bit tight, but -- ugh -- I can do it. I just need to --

Her headlamp thunks into something. It shatters.

LARA

Shit. That was my light. Oh, shit. Okay, I just need to reach into my bag for...I don't have my bag.

She takes a few breaths.

LARA

Okay. I can do this. I can climb in the dark. Right? It's the same as the light except you...don't know what things are. Which is fine. Ohhhh god, why is everything wet?

She keeps crawling, a slow journey through the earth.

LARA

(Sings)

Ohh, Old MacDonald had a cave, E-I-E-I...ow! And on this cave she had a --

She grunts, shifts, pulls through a tight spot.

LARA

Squeeze -- ugh -- E-I-E-I-O. With a -- ouch! Okay -- here and a twist-twist there -- ugh -- here a rock, there a rock, everywhere a -- whoa!

She slips on slick rocks. Scrambling, chaos, rocks moving around.

LARA

Okay, let me just --

She slides to a sudden stop.

LARA

Okay.

She twists, grunts. She can't move.

LARA

Oh. Oh god.

She pushes harder, grunts. No dice.

LARA

Oh god oh god oh god. Okay, no. It's fine. I'm not stuck. I just need to twist my hips that way and put my shoulders through -- ahhhhh!

She stops, takes a moment to catch her breath.

LARA

It's fine. I'll just crawl back. Oh god, it's so dark...

She struggles, scrambles, rocks scatter. She does not move.

LARA

(desperate)

Okay, so...so that doesn't work either.

A beat. A small static CRACKLE.

LARA

The walkie. Oh my god. For emergencies.

She shifts and struggles.

LARA

If I can just get my hand back to...ahhhhhhh okay.

BEEP of a walkie-talkie button.

LARA

Hello? Can anyone hear me? Over?

Silence.

LARA

Hello? Anyone?

Silence.

LARA

Help.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE

Thunder. Noise. Rose sits on the floor, whispering to herself.

ROSE

Please go away, please go away, please go away...

The room shakes again.

ROSE

You keep this up and I'll stop saying please!

No response.

ROSE

Come on, Lara. I need you.

INT. CAVE TUNNEL

Lara struggles again, but half-hearted now. She might be giving up.

STATIC and unintelligible noise over the walkie-talkie.

LARA

Hello? Hello! Is someone there?

The static wavers. Rose's voice breaks through.

ROSE (RADIO)

Come on, Lara. I need you.

It statics, then sputters back to silence.

LARA

Rose? Hello? I...

Silence.

LARA

Okay. Okay. I can do this. I...i have to do this, so...Just listen. Don't force it. Deep breath...

She breathes in, then exhales all the way...and suddenly SLIIIIIDES down through the rocks at an alarming rate.

LARA

I made -- ahhhhh!

INT. CAVE - CONTINUOUS

Rocks slip and fall to the ground. Lara tumbles in after them, screaming as she goes. She lands heavily on the ground.

LARA

Owww...

(beat)

Rose. Spirit. Okay.

She crawls into place.

LARA

Okay, spirit. You want me to connect? Let's connect. And then you need to go.

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE

As before.

ROSE

Go away, go away, go away...

A ZAP and RUMBLE as LIGHTNING strikes the house. Rose screams.

ROSE

You want to burn the house down? Fine! Just get the fuck out!

INT. CAVE

Lara wheezes. The machines suddenly spring to life, all beeping and alarming at once.

LARA

Okay. I get it. You're half-here. It hurts. I hurt. So just go, be with your other half, whatever, just get out of here!

BATS fly through the cave again.

LARA

Oh for fucks' sake, just go!

The bats fly out.

We hear both women's voices at once.

LARA

Go away!

ROSE

Get out!

Silence. A beat.

LARA

...Spirit? You there?

INT. CORWIN LAKE HOUSE

Sound of fire. Rose coughs.

ROSE

Do you hear me? Just go!

A beat. All is silent, except for the fire and a gentle rain.

ROSE

Oh my god. It worked.

A wood beam CRACKS and tumbles in the fire.

ROSE

And now I should go.

She coughs and hurries out.

INT. VIDEO CALL - LATER

Video call ring. It connects.

ROSE

Lara? Lara! Oh my god!

LARA

Are you okay?

ROSE

Yeah -- yeah.

LARA

Wait...is that the Corwin House?

ROSE

Oh...yeah. The firefighters are on it, but I don't think Mr. Corwin has to worry about demolition anymore.

LARA

And all the equipment's inside?

ROSE

Um...

LARA

I am in so much trouble.

NICK (O.S.)

You're in trouble?!

ROSE

Who's that?

LARA

Oh, I had to call a friend to get me out.

NICK (O.S.)

You think we're still friends after this?!

LARA

He's fine.

ROSE

Listen, Lara, I...I'm just so glad you're okay.

LARA

Yeah. You too. It's weird, when I was in the cave I...I thought I heard you. Is that weird?

ROSE

No, I...I know what you mean. It was like you were here. With me.

A beat. They both speak at once.

LARA

Listen, I'm sorry about --

ROSE

So, about earlier --

The break off and chuckle.

ROSE

Do you want to meet up sometime? Talk about all of this?

LARA

Oh, like a debrief?

ROSE

I was thinking, like, pizza. Or...

LARA

Oh, yeah, um...

ROSE

Unless you're vegan. Though, there's a great vegan place in Ashland.

LARA

That would be...yes. We should do that.

NICK (O.S.)

Seriously? You're doing this right now?

LARA

(whispers)

Shush!

A CRASH on Rose's end.

ROSE

Okay, I think I need to give someone a statement or something.

LARA

Yeah, I should go too.

ROSE

Okay.

LARA

I'll call you?

ROSE

Yeah. Yeah, I would like that.

NICK (O.S.)

Oh my god!!

LARA

See you later.

ROSE

(laughs)

Yeah.

The call ends.

EXT. OREGON CAVES

The rain has stopped. Birds sing in the trees. Lara lays back, sighs happily.

NICK

What happened in there?

LARA

It was amazing.

NICK

Great. Now get out of my damn park.

LARA

Roger roger, Ranger Nick.

Nick groans. Lara laughs, then groans.

LARA

Okay, I might've cracked some ribs.

Nick laughs.

FADE OUT

OUTRO

Thank you for listening to our special Halloween episode. This one was a real adventure to make, and I really appreciate you tuning in to listen. I also continue to appreciate your reviews, tweets, comments, and other support and engagement for this show. It really means a lot.

This show is currently self-funded, and it’s been a tough year, for me as well as, I’m sure, for many of you, so if you’re in a position to do so, your financial support goes a long way. Subscribe monthly on Patreon for access to rewards, perks, and inside information about the show. Go to patreon.com/believerpodcast for more information. You can also purchase tee shirts, stickers, or other merchandise at our TeePublic site.

New episodes are coming soon. Until then...if you’re working in your lab late one night, and your eyes behold a terrible sight? Don’t worry. It’s just the mash. I mean, the Monster Mash. After all, it is a graveyard smash.

Happy Halloween. Bye now.