It was just after 11 PM when the first alarm went off. I was watching whichever adult animation was on - Family Guy, I think? - when the TV broadcast cut through.
“This is a test of the emergency alert broadcast system. This is only a test. This is a test of the emergency alert broadcast system. This is only a test.” The notification played a couple of times while a quiet but insistent tone pierced through the words.
“Weird time to do this,” I muttered. I thought about it for a second and realized that many people were probably asleep by now. I guess it checks out. I pulled my phone out just as the test alert repeated for the last time. Except it didn’t repeat. Just before clicking back to Family Guy, the TV shuttered with static and said “This is not a test.”
What the fuck… I figured I must’ve heard it wrong. I’d had a few beers and I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the repetitive message. With a little bit of concern I brushed off the weird occurrence and settled back into my chair. I’d only just set my phone down when it chirped brightly with a notification.
I had to do a double-take as the message faded from the top of my phone. “This is a test of our emergency alert broadcast system. This is a test. If you are outside and have received this message, please press 1. If you are inside and have received this message, please press 2.”
I stared dumbly at my phone, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for this weird test. It’s a… like a service check I told myself. They’re making sure everyone gets it no matter where they are. This was flimsy even to my desperation and beer-addled mind. I was so entranced by the odd message that I hadn’t heard the change on my TV.
A familiar robotic male voice droned into my ears mid-sentence. “This is an emergency. This is only a test. This is a test of the emergency alert broadcast system. This is only a test.” Did that shit just say “This is an emergency”? I waited for it to loop again. To both my relief and my dismay… it did.
“This is an emergency. This is. This. This is an alert. Alert. Alert. Alert. Emergency.” The pitch dropped drastically, like a robot running out of power. “Alerrrrrtttt. This is. Emergency.”
“Shit what the fuck,” I looked around my room helplessly. My phone remained in my hand, the strange message unanswered. As I stared at the gray text, a new one dinged brightly.
“How well do you know your neighbor?”
My… my neighbor? I hadn’t even processed this new oddity before a new message chirped at me. Then another.
“Does your neighbor ever visit?” “Does he see where you hide your key?”
Chills ran the length of my body. What the fuck is this? It’s a prank. It has to be. I didn’t really believe that. I bit my lip hard and cursed myself for using one of those stupid fucking hide-a-key rocks. Of course my neighbor knew I kept a key there. But then… why would that even matter? I stood in the center of my living room, paralyzed with confusion and fear. The static on the TV ratcheted up in pitch and the low, distorted robotic voice spoke again.
“Test. Test. Test. Not a test. Alert. Emergency. Emergency. Hide! Run! Hide! Run! It’s outside it’s outside it’s outside it’s outside it’s outside it’s outsi—” This broke my trance. I bolted, tripping over my loveseat in my mad dash for the basement door. I’ve been sitting at the base of the steps for hours now, far too scared to move. Upstairs I can hear my TV repeating a message over and over again. “Apologies for the confusion. Please exit your home and proceed to the designated neighborhood emergency shelter.” I want to listen. I want to comply and feel safe. I would maybe even do it, except I keep getting a message on my phone, every couple of minutes. “Please remain indoors no matter what you hear or see. It is crucial that you remain indoors.”