Gods Among Men

When it began

I remember the day it happened. Work was quiet, there were no new or interesting stories to report that day. Or so we thought…

I sat in my moderately sized office, leaning back on the expensive leather tapping on my deep mahogany desk, I glanced at the plain plastic analogue clock and noted the time. 4:36pm. I thought to myself, something had better happen soon or we will be stuck with those f*****g fluff pieces Noelle suggested on the local dog rescues and some story on the most recent shooting for the 6 o’clock. My fingers drummed harder on the desk, this is not how I’m going to get those ratings.

I looked out the window of my 48th floor window, looking over New York City, I had worked damned hard to get the position I was in as the anchor for the 6 o’clock time slot for the 2nd most popular news network. As always New York was bustling, brimming with business, opportunities and whatever else brings people to this population. The crowds are thrumming below me, I can see the trees moving in unison, against a strong wind. Branches snap, people dodge out of the way of the falling debris. I frowned, very strong wind. And then there was a tremor. A minor one, but one that even I could feel. How strange, I thought, I didn’t think New York got tremors. My mind wondered lazily to the possibility there might have been a clash with a deity, now that would be interesting!

Noise outside my office snaps me out of my mid-afternoon haze. I turn to look out the glass wall separating my office from what I called the pen, an open space housing the lower tier producers, interns, assistants and technicians. Some people were running, others were standing in place, with vacant expressions, as if in shock. I jump out of my chair and march around the desk toward the door. Finally, I thought, a good story. Or so I had thought…

My door burst open before I could reach it. Rachel, my assistant, stood next to my door with her trembling hand on the handle. Her auburn hair, usually tied into a sensible bun, was disheveled. I frowned at her, I never approved of such an unprofessional state of dress. Then I registered her face, her typically calm, collected, mildly attractive face was frozen in an expression of terror. My heart rate immediately kicked into overdrive, I can count on one hand how many times this woman has broken her professional exterior, this must be good!

“What the f**k is going on?!” I demanded, grabbing onto the door and pushing past her to observe the chaos that was ensuing in the pen.

“There’s been an attack,” she gasped, clutching her trembling hands to her chest, I frowned at her again and replied “So? There’s been plenty of those lately, what’s so different about this one?”

Before Rachel could answer, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the office, I jumped and whipped around in surprise to see one of my producers collapse to the floor clutching her phone. She was shaking and sobbing. “Whats wrong with her?!” someone yelled across the room, another voice somewhere in the room responded “Her fiance was in Las Vegas”.

Las Vegas? What the f**k?!

“SOMEBODY TELL ME WHAT THE f**k IS GOING ON!” I bellowed to the room. Everyone stopped, they all looked at me, there was silence. I looked around each of the faces, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Finally, someone pointed to the computed moniter. The screen was flashing red. I marched across the room, weaving around the desks to the monitor. It was a red alert. There had been a deity attacked on Las Vegas. A big one. Casualties unknown. Infrastructural damage unknown. The army, the navy and the airforce were being sent to the area. s**t, this must be a big one. I straighten up and look around the room, my employees are all looking at me, waiting for instruction. This is huge, I thought to myself, If I pull this off, this could mean better rating, maybe even a promotion.

“Alright everyone, we have a job to do, I want all interns on social media searching key words related to Las Vegas and this attack, see if there are any recordings or eye witness accounts being posted” I bark out, movement begins, the young interns dart out of the crowd to their tiny desk clusters, “I want my reporters and producers to contact every single source they have in the government departments, or in the vicinity of Las Vegas, find out what happened and what’s being done about it”. The crowd was thinning as people began to work at their alloted task. I looked to the thinned out crowd.

“Someone get a helicopter out there, we need an aerial view of the situation” I snap, there’s no movement, I frowned deeply at them, one of the producers step forward, Howard, he was young and new to the game,  I was surprised he had the balls to step up.

“There’s been a ban on the air space around the area” he said with a quivering voice, he probably had realised the risk of hesitating in such a crucial moment. I rub the bridge of my nose for a moment, to calm myself, before I yelled “I don’t care if there’s a restriction! I don’t care if its being guarded by the President himself, get me eyes up there now!”.

Howard jumped and scurried away, I assumed to make the proper arrangements.

I look at the rest of the crowd, “The rest of you are experienced enough to figure out what to do, I trust you.”

They disbursed immediately, leaving just Rachel standing beside me, waiting for something to do.

“I’m going to the conference room, send everyone that matters in, we need to figure out what’s happening,” I say over my shoulder to her as I head for the conference room. I weave through the scurrying underlings as they begin to collect the information to make this story.

I open the heavy door to the conference room, the long oak table stood at the centre with 12 chairs placed evenly around it. I sit at the head of the table. I lean back into the soft leather, and begin to rummage through my jacket pocket. I found what I was looking for, Marlboro Red. I retrieved my lighter, lit my cigaretter and took a long drag. Rachel marched into the room with a blank notepad, a pen and a cup of coffee, she placed it directly in front of me and dashed off to find my executive producers and whoever she deemed important enough to be in this room.

I sat quietly, smoking my cigarette for a while, waiting for my team to gather. Slowly people began to fill the room. Most were faceless workers to me, except a small handful of people who I consider to be the very backbone of this network. Colin, one of my executive producers sat to my right whereas Emma, my other executive producer, sat to my left. The room quickly filled to the brim, the seats were filled, many people were standing on the edges of the room with their phones attached to their ears, scribbling furiously on their notepads muttering into the mic piece. I didn’t mind this, any good reporter would allow this to maintain a constant flow of information while they figure out the story.

Once I was satisfied with the capacity of the room, I cleared my throat. The dull, excited chatter of the room silenced immediately. I sat up and begain “All right, what do we know?”

Colin surged forward immediately and began his explanation, “There was an attack on Las Vegas approximately 15 minutes ago, at 3:36pm. It was allegedly a deity attack, but we are awaiting confirmation,” the room began to mutter at the mention of deities.

Deities were a problem at the moment, most likely due to the government’s handling of their kind. I rested my chin on my hand as I waited for him to continue.

“We know that whoever attacked Las Vegas was exceptionally powerful. There is a government facility about 50 miles from Las Vegas in the desert. I have a gut feeling that whoever attacked, must have come from there” Colin continued, I nodded at him, Colin had exceptional instincts, he was usually right. So if this person is from this facility, what were they doing there? Why did they leave? What would have provoked them to leave and do this? I thought to myself.

“Do we have any numbers on casualties,” I interrupted, Colin glanced up from his notes at me, he looked around the room, we both were waiting for an answer. As if on cue, an intern ran in, she was young and pretty, Jennifer I think her name was, or maybe it was Jessica..

“S-someone’s live streaming the site with a drone,” she stammered, the colour had drained from her face, she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Well then put it up!” I barked, she darted to the computer attached to the projector.

The image came up. 

The room fell silent immediately, as we all gawked at the scene laid out before us. Air hissed out of my lungs as my eyes drank in the horrific site.