Sunday, August 11, 2019

S2.5E5: Escape From Horizon One Part II, Electric Boogaloo


Phillip gets awakened in the middle of the night to help the police track down Meagan after she broke out of the military base. Grace struggles with her mysterious sensitivity to Ryan's disruptions to the timeline.
CAST
Michelle Pearl as Grace, Marcia
Timmy Vilgiate as Phillip, Cameron
text2speech dot org as Salvia divinorum
C.j. Hackett as Ryan, Ryan, Ryan
Aaron Mayfield as the Chief
Collin Estes as Agent Carter
Dominick Vilgiate as Jacob
Jareth Spirio as Colonel Imes

PRODUCTION
Written and produced by Timmy Vilgiate
SOUND EFFECTS FROM FREESOUND(.ORG)
Ambience Coffee Shop 2 and door creak 02 by Jarred Gibb;
nokia ringtone with vibration by izalew;
evil laugh by zyrytsounds;
evil laugh 9 by nanakisan;
phone dialing by Harry Peeks;
footsteps down stairs 3 by sinatra 314;
indoor footsteps by dkiller2204;
radio click 2, radio click 3, radio click noise 3 by erh;
snare police radio over beep by flyin eye;
03 knocking on window by 15hpanska ruttner jan;
car window down and car window up by sandermotions;
machines at work by James Gilsenan
ambience night crickets 1car pass by mshahen
city at night ambience by Broken Head Productions

Newest episode, automatically posted to this blog.

Marcia reclined in a black leather chair, one leg crossed over the other. She wore a blue skirt and blouse, her lips done up in a perfect and seductive red, her hair hanging from the sides of her head in perfect curls. “I’ve been waiting for you Phillip.”, she stood up and gave me a hug. “It’s so wonderful to see you…outside of the office.”
“Mind if I buy you a drink?”
“I’d love that.”
“Just coffee, or you want something special?”
“I don’t know, surprise me.”
“If you say so.”
I stood up and headed to the cash register. But before I got there, an eerie feeling over came me. I looked around the room—caught sight of the doctor from the field hospital. Dr. Whitebalm. She had on a cartoonish fake moustache and glasses; smiling deviously, she took notes. Someone in the seat next to her whispered over her shoulder—they were taking notes to. They were all taking notes. Dr. Whitebalm. The Cashier. Marcia…
“What do you people want from me?”

(A phone buzzes on Phillips nightstand. Panting, Phillip bursts awake, and realizes it was all a dream, ad libbing. He looks over at the phone, seeing that it’s a call from the chief. He picks it up)

Phillip: Good evening. What’s that?...Missing?...Gosh…well. I can…(yawns)…I can head in. You called Grace yet?...Sure, I can do that. See ya in a jiffy, chief. (Sighs, starts to dial another number. It rings twice. Goes to a split screen type of setup, where Grace is in the left channel, on her porch, while Phillip is in the right channel, in his room)

Grace: (Faintly drunk) Hello?
Phillip: Good evening. Hope I didn’t wake you up.
Grace: No, I’m…on my porch right now. Why?
Phillip: Chief just called, he wants us to head down to the station. Says one of the people they had in custody after the sinkhole broke out. Meagan Cortez.
Grace: Oh boy…umm…I hate to ask this of you Phill(hiccup)up Can you pick me up, by any chance? I’m…a little drunk at the moment.
Phillip: I can come get you. You sure you don’t want me to tell the chief you can’t come in?
Grace: No, no. I need to…(hiccup) get out…I can’t stay here.
Phillip: Everything alright with you and the husband?
Grace: Oh everything’s fine. It’s just…(hiccup) We all died! (Laughs) And no one remembers! No one! (Laughs some more, her laughter gradually slows down from hahaha to just…”huh”) I’m going out of my mind. Come take me away. Bye.
Phillip: You got your…huh. She hung up. (Narrates) I frantically tore off my pajamas and got my uniform on, double checking myself in the mirror to make sure everything looked alright. As I charged down the stairs, I saw someone in the drive way. My son. He staggered up onto the porch. Looked high. I grimaced, and took a deep breath.
Ryan: (Sliding out of unreality) Oh, hey dad. Didn’t think I’d see you here.
Phillip: Thought you’d be home by ten.
Ryan: Sorry about that. I lost track of time.
Phillip: It’s three in the morning.
Ryan: Geez. No wonder I’m so exhausted.
Phillip: I’m sure you are. Lucky it’s the weekend.
Ryan: Say…uh. Where are you heading?
Phillip: Some…uh. Some girl they took into custody broke out apparently, no one knows where she is.
Ryan: Broke out…broke out. Meagan Cortez?
Phillip: How’d you know that?
Ryan: Oh, pft, I just…just. Lucky guess. You know…ugh… (Rewind sound) Who’s Meagan Cortez, you said she broke out?
Phillip: Yep. Not super sure what’s happening. Gotta go pick up Grace.
Ryan: Oh my God…John. You were supposed to watch her. She wasn’t supposed to go out of the house…Sorry, uh. Dad. Phillip. Forget I was ever here. (Rewind sound)
Phillip: (Narrates) I hurried down the stairs and out into my car, shifting it into reverse and speeding off to Grace’s house.


(Phillips car pulls up. Grace throws an aluminum can off to the side)
Grace: Have you tried Coors Light in the last (hiccup) few hours, Phillip?
Phillip: Oh boy, Grace. You are a mess.
Grace: You know what’s a mess? The mess is that you’ve called me five times and every time you think it’s the first time you called me. Haha! I’m….I’m losing my mind.
Phillip: You’re drunk.
Grace: No! You’re drunk! Fuck off. Pft. Doesn’t even matter.
Phillip: You don’t have to come. I can tell the chief you’re not doing well, you know, but I need to get to the station.
Grace: No, no. I’m fine. I’m a very civil drunk. I’m very focused. I’m very good drunk. I’m going. I’m…I’m a very good drunk. Civil. Focus. Let’s go.
Phillip: Grace, I don’t know…
Grace: I’m going Phillip! Everything keeps repeating and I think I’m traveling through time. Do you remember what Coors Light tasted like eight hours ago…
Phillip: You put that beer back where you found it and…(sighs) Okay. Okay, get in the car. You just let me do the talking, okay? If chief sees how drunk you are, we’re both gonna get our asses handed to us.
Grace: (gets in the car, sounds very sad) You died.
Phillip: What the hell are you talking about?
Grace: He took you to the forest and they burned you. And now no one remembers. No one remembers. Ha! Haha. No one remembers. But I remember!
Phillip: Look. Grace. We need to talk about this when you’re in a good state of mind.
Grace: (Pauses) Can you do me a favor?
Phillip: What?
Grace: Can you try to feel…feel really brave?
Phillip: What do you mean?
Grace: Oh my god…it happened again.
Phillip: What—(sympathetically) Sure. Maybe I’ll try to act a little sober while I’m at it to.


Chief, at the station: Thanks for coming in, you two…Where’s Grace?
Phillip: She’s…uh. She’s got a migraine right now. Had a little bit to drink but not too much. She insisted on coming in.
Chief: It’s alright. It’s late. I’ll make an exception.
Phillip: And…I don’t believe I’ve met you.
Colonel Imes: No, you haven’t. My name is Colonel Imes. Phillip, right?
Phillip: Right. What seems to be the problem?
Colonel Imes: We found two of our men standing guard at a secure location fast asleep and Meagan Cortez had stolen one of their identification badges. We’re trying to track it. So far we haven’t seen her go by her house. It’s urgent that we find her. Most of the staff I have at the base go home on the weekend which is why I’ve called you in. I really am sorry to have to ask so much of you folks, but I truly appreciate it.
Phillip: Of course, sir. Thank you for your service. So what are we looking out for?
Colonel Imes: Meagan Cortez, or her brother, Jacob Cortez. Meagan is approximately five feet eight inches tall, about 155 pounds. Dark black hair, hazel eyes, very pale skin, has some bruises of unknown origin. Medical records show a diagnosis of Asperger’s, may exhibit some unusual behavior. Her brother is about six-four, 210 pounds, might be wearing a uniform for McDonald’s or for the Kroger grocery store. Also dark black hair, slightly darker skin, and greenish eyes. He drives a red truck, Texas plates: BB3-8199. Meagan, we aren’t sure where she’d go but she works at Walmart. Has a grandmother in the hospital in San Antonio. You get all that?
Phillip: BB3-8899?
Colonel Imes: 8199.
Phillip: Got it.


Grace: Can I see your notes?
Phillip: Sure you can.
Grace: Huh…wonder why that changed.
Phillip: What do you mean?
Grace: She lost two pounds every time Colonel Imes told you who to look for. (laughter) I know I’m drunk but I’m not crazy. I don’t know why it’s happening. No one else remembers.
Phillip: Well, we’re just gonna keep a look out. If we can find this girl before the government does, maybe we can get some answers about what’s going on with her. (Narrates) Grace put her hand up over her face, and leaned back. (Dialogue) Got any ideas?
Grace: Huh. You think she had a ride? Or left on foot?
Phillip: I’m…not sure.
Grace: Well..(yawns) Let’s head towards Blackberry Creek, see if we see anything.
Phillip: The two of us drove down the highway towards the edge of town, the road illuminated by the golden yellow glare of the streetlights and our own too-dim headlights. The tops of trees shivered in a faint, ephemeral breeze.
Grace: Hey, did you see that car?
Phillip: BB3-8199. That’s Jacob. Boy is he driving fast. (I sped up to try and match his speed) Car looks empty.
Grace: Alright. So she’s not with him.
Phillip: Chief, we just saw Jacob’s car on the 290 heading out of town, but the car looked empty. Over.
Chief: Thanks for letting me know. You folks stay on him, let us know if he gets in contact with his sister. (Narrates) I let Jacob pass us. Would’ve written him a ticket but I knew what he must’ve been going through with his sister in the custody of the government. Best to let him be. He was a couple miles ahead of us—his car bobbed and weaved over the undulating hills, always just barely visible by its headlights. He pulled into a gas station.
Grace: Let’s see if we can find somewhere to park where we can see what happens.
Phillip: Good idea. How about that self-storage place across the street?
Grace: Sounds good.
Phillip: (Narrates) I fit the car in a spot behind a tall wooden sign, where we could see into the gas station, just barely. (Dialogue) Grace...that’s her.
Grace: Oh my god…she’s…Wait a second. Don’t…don’t tell the chief yet.
Phillip: Good idea. Her and Jacob are talking. She looks a little…disoriented. Very disoriented. He’s leading her out to the car. They’re…talking. And…alright. He just got out of the car…let me roll down the window, see if I can hear him. (Jacob’s phone call to Cameron plays in the background, very distant.
Grace: Hear anything?
Phillip: Shh. Not…quite. Something about…he thinks she’s…under the influence of something. He’s calling a friend to help out. Alright. He’s back in the car. And they’re talking again.
Grace: Seems a little strange. You think they drugged her?
Phillip: I don’t know. It would explain things. Poor girl. (Narrates) They pulled out of the gas station and sped down the road.
Grace: Should we tell the chief?
Phillip: It’s gonna be pretty suspect if we say we seen Jacob without his sister and they find them together. Let’s…let’s see what…
Chief: Any luck?
Phillip: Speak of the devil.
Grace: Well, answer him!
Phillip: Yeah, he stopped at the gas station cross the street from the Tucker Self Storage. Didn’t see Meagan, did look like he took a phone call of some kind.
Chief: Huh. Well, she’s probably trying to reach out to him. Keep following him, but don’t tip him off or anything.
Phillip: You heard him, guess we’re gonna keep following Jacob. (Narrates) I turned off the lights, letting the police car blend in to the night.
Grace: What’re you gonna (hiccup) What are you gonna say when your version of the story doesn’t match up?
Phillip: Well. (Sighs) I don’t know. Best case scenario no one looks into it all that much. Worst case scenario I have to dip into the old savings account and seek asylum in Ecuador, I suppose.
Grace: Hold on…they stopped.
Phillip: Alright. Here we go. What’re they doing?
Grace: Talking, looks like.
Phillip: I can’t see into the car. From the shadow he looks like…looks like something’s freaking him out. He just…just heaved over. Meagan’s got her hand on his shoulder, she’s trying to calm him down. Talking again. Alright. And they’re off.
Grace: And the chase continues. (Grace suddenly grew terrified) Keep…keep your distance.
Phillip: Why?
Grace: I don’t know how to explain. Just…keep your distance.
Phillip: You have another one of those uh…those weird time things?
Grace: I did but…it’s really hard to explain. Meagan can…uh…Meagan can…no, I don’t know what she can do…it’s just…we don’t want to get too close. S…sorry. I know it sounds like I’m going crazy, I just…phew. It keeps getting worse. I don’t know why this is happening.
Phillip: Maybe that…that Agent Carter fella slipped you something.
Grace: I…I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re right. Okay, they’re turning into Pioneer Hills. Make sure you stop at the gate. Goddammit, I’m drunk and I’m doing half the navigation.
Phillip: I’m looking at the same road as you, Grace. You just ain’t got no filter is all.  (Narrates) Watching Meagan and Jacob make their way into the neighborhood down the dusty, lightless dirt roads, Grace and I braked to a halt at the gate. The attendant saw our car and snickered.
Attendant (Played by Good Ryan, trying to stall): I had a feeling something was off. This some kind of drug bust?
Phillip: Nope, no drugs involved. Following up on a Missing person’s report.
Attendant: Right. Well, you know what, thank you for all you folks do. We got terrorists in this city now. Crime. Drugs.
Phillip: Thank you, sir…
Attendant: I tell you what it is. It’s all these goddamn Californians, moving out here, trying to change our way of life.
Phillip: Right, well, we’ve gotta…
Attendant: And then of course the aliens.
Phillip: Aliens?
Attendant: Illegal aliens. You know what I’m talking about. Coming across the southern border, bringing their crime, their drugs, their diseases. Spicy food. Rap music. Technological change rendering previously important sectors of the economy obsolete. You know what I’m talking about.
Phillip: Seems like…you uh. You have a lot to talk about. But we’ve really got to…
Attendant: Oh, oh, of course. I’m sorry. I just got a little carried away. Of course. You need to go. Just, you let me know, you let me know if I can do anything.
Phillip: Sure…sure will. Say, you know where that red pickup truck was headed?
Attendant: Oh, the red pickup truck. Yeah, the red…red pickup truck. Uh, think they went right. Not sure. But like I said, let me know if I can do anything to help. I’m the eyes and ears of this…and they drove off. Right. Well, I think I bought her about five minutes. I stepped out from the Attendant’s body. A faint smile came to his face as he remembered a visit to Port Aransas that he took as a child, playing on the beach with his brother and sister. He didn’t see me as I slipped out from his booth, back into the forest. I followed the police car close behind.

Grace’s migraines made this more challenging than I’d expected—since I tried to do the least amount of harm and the most amount of good, every decision I made had to be weighed against the potential to do more harm to vulnerable people like her. In the old days, I had not been aware of such auxillary effects of my powers since I had been so fixated on achieving godhood, then later, fixated on neutralizing my own worst instincts. Only recently had I turned my attention to helping improve the state of this world. And soon it would come to a close. But there were still loose ends to tie together. Wouldn’t there always be? Always some point that needs resolution, mending—the best anyone can do is to leave things better than they found them. The police car stopped when it saw Jacob’s car parked in front of a house. Phillip and Grace watched intently, with hawklike focus, mind’s pervaded by uncertainty. Grace saw me, but did not know how to explain me. She had seen me since she started drinking, a white sphere of indeterminate size and distance hovering just in front of her face.  Should they call the chief? Or should they continue to risk their careers to protect this fugitive from a government which, in their eyes, seemed rife with an arcane malevolence? Ethically, it placed them in a conundrum. Predictably, the smell of marijuana, which wafted through the trees, sent Phillip over the edge. No longer was Meagan innocently trying to escape the clutches of the state. She just snuck out to get high. Phillip felt forlorn as this occurred to him—that all of this risk might have actually been for nothing. He picked up the radio, heart racing enough to cause even the trees outside of the car to fill with dread.

Phillip: Chief, found her. She met up with Jacob at a house out in Pioneer Hills. Strong smell of marijuana coming through the air, looks like they’re just coloring inside. Some kind of a…drug party, I’d say.
Chief: Ha! Well, Colonel’s gonna flip when he hears that. They just about got the tracking figured out on that ID badge, but something’s been interfering with the signal.
Ryan: Something was interfering with the signal? Say it isn’t so!
Chief: You got an address?
Phillip: 571 Louis H. Wolffenstein Place. [hey don’t change this it’s the empirical formula for nicotine, plus the person who discovered the formula mixed with one of the people who discovered the structure. Just saying cause you took out the montauk, ny reference from season 2 and that shit was hilarious]
Chief: Alright, why don’t you take them in? (Agent Carter in the background, sounding groggy and tired) What’s that? You wanted to say something?
Agent Carter: Yes. Officers, I have a somewhat counterintuitive favor to ask of you. Could please make sure to stay out of sight, and take notes on their activity? While this may seem like a youthful late night folly, it could in fact be an attempt by the subject to covertly funnel information about the base’s activities. Keep an eye out for any cash transactions, any payments—see if you can see anything through the windows.
Phillip: Roger that Agent Carter.
Agent Carter: Thank you.
Grace: Well, I guess we had the right idea after all.
Phillip: Suppose we did. How are you feeling?
Grace: The migraine’s getting worse. I keep…seeing things.
Phillip: Did the alcohol help?
Grace: Helped me feel sick to my stomach. I shouldn’t have drank so much.
Phillip: Well, Grace, you’re only human. Been a long day.
Grace: Ha! That’s for sure. (Narrates) I didn’t know how to tell him how many times we’d had this conversation, or how many times the world had ended today—how with every single moment, I anticipated that rusty and menacing voice coming from behind us in the car, leading us towards an army of ghosts.
Phillip: (Narrates) We pulled forward, to where we could look down the driveway. Down on the floor, Meagan and her brother colored, while some twenty something with shaggy hair and a long beard hunched over a computer, looking serious and frantic. I started to consider the possiblities. Maybe it wasn’t coloring. Maybe it was notes. Maybe the fella on the computer was doing research on the base, trying to help them record the truth. I saw a bong on the table, still giving off faint wisps of smoke. Not wanting to be sighted, I pulled forward, further ahead, where they wouldn’t see us, where I could see, just barely, into the house. The fella stood up, said something, and went to go bang on some piano keys. Then he came back, handed something to Meagan. She looked very grateful, very serious and solemn, before standing up and clutching the item in her hands. Her and her brother went out back to the car. She walked slowly, almost on her tip toes, staring up towards the sky. A look of wonder came over her face—she saw something, something none of us could see. Her brother got really nervous. Started backing away. She collapsed to her knees, and shut her eyes, clutching her stomach. Not sure if he should look for help, her brother paced back and forth. I rolled down the window, slightly.
Jacob: Shit, shit…shit…Man, I hope she’s okay. Fuck…I hope they didn’t do anything to her. (He paused. His friend came out onto the porch, staggering slightly.)
Cameron: She alright man?
Jacob: Uh…she’s…
Cameron: Let me check her out. Not like, check her out. You know what I mean.
Jacob: Do you know…
Cameron: My older brother had cerebral palsy so I had to take some first aid classes and shit like that. Uh, let me…Her heart rates a little weird. Breathing seems fast. Probably the nicotine. Uh…let me try something… (The fella held up his hands and started shaking them, his eyes shut—he opened his mouth and babbled in tongues, before thrusting them back over her. They hovered over her.) Ah, yeah, man, her energy flow is like totally fucked right now. This must have a really powerful spirit or something, man. I don’t know. What I’d suggest is you like…you just stand by her side and try to send her some positive vibes, you know what I mean? Positive vibes are probably the best prescription I can give right now. Unless, like, do you want some hot cocoa?
Jacob: Uh…no thanks. But thanks for…uh…for…
Cameron: It’s called energy healing. I learned it in Peru. I’m gonna go meditate for your sister, alright? Let me know if she starts, uh. Like convulsing, or doing anything weird. We might need to do some drumming and some chants to try and realign her spirit.
Jacob: Right.
Phillip: (Narrates) The..uh..hippy fella went inside, and sat crosslegged on his floor. For a little while longer, Meagan sat their, until her eyes grew wide, and she lept up into the air. Unstable, she teetered back and forth a bit, before vomiting all over the ground. Her brother led her back to the car and the two of them sped off.


“Out of the car, both of you!”

Grace: That was…that was…
Phillip: Weird. Real weird.
Grace: What do you think we should… (Narrates) Agent Carter knocked on Phillip’s window. He rolled it down.
Agent Carter: Did you see anything?
Grace: Kids just sat around, smoked weed, and drew some pictures.
Agent Carter: Hmmm. Did their friend give them anything?
Grace: Looked like a…little box of some kind.
Agent Carter: Yeah…we found that. Nicotine gum. Not sure why. Anything else?
Phillip: Nope.
Agent Carter: It’s very strange. And our satellite tracking system went haywire the moment she breached security. You didn’t see…anything else?
Phillip: …No. We didn’t.
Grace: Gate attendant looked a little…strange.
Agent Carter: I’ll interview him. See what he remembers. Maybe stop by and have a chat with their…friend.
Phillip: He seemed like a real quirky fella.
Agent Carter: Did he?
Phillip: Yeah. Uh, seemed like he might have been under the influence of some uh, hallucinogenic drugs, based on the way he was acting and what we overheard.
Agent Carter: That’s a common ploy of certain covert intelligence gathering organizations—they keep their sources in line by getting them addicted to things like marijuana, LSD, heroin—gives them something to hold over the pawns in the operation.
Phillip: I hadn’t considered that.
Agent Carter: It’s all very suspect. Anyhow…it’s been a long night. You all deserve some rest. I’m going back to my hotel. Perhaps I can buy you folks some drinks later this week.
Grace: Sounds good to me.
Phillip: Sure. Got some plans tomorrow, but…should work.
Agent Carter: Alright. So long then. And thank you for all your diligent work.

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