Scott sat motionless for several minutes. The return to reality proved to be a strange experience. He still remembered the information from those books, and the sight of people staggering around on television while they tried to piece together what just happened was to be too compelling to allow him to look away.

It was not until a strange squawking noise reached his ears that Scott snapped out of his semi-trance. He went to the door and looked out to see what was going on.

"Chickens...?" he asked, his eyes widening in the process.

Thousands of chickens, if he were to guess the numbers, roamed the streets. They clucked and they squawked. Some of them fought for love and glory, while fat hens sat nearby and watched for the winner.

"The hell...?" he asked, slowly. Where did all of these chickens come from?

He walked outside and looked around, then immediately realized that something far worse than a chicken uprising had occurred. Down the street one of the neighboring houses was partially burnt. The entire left-side of the two story home had fallen to the ground. The expensive car in the burnt out garage was now nothing more than a smoldering hunk of metal. Even at this distance, it was easy for Scott to see that the tires had melted and the car rested on its rims.

"Shit!" he called out. He disliked people in general, but he was not an asshole about it. Just like any reasonable neighbor, he rushed down the street to see if anyone needed help.

The fire seemed to be out, but the area was still hot. Scott called out, "Hey anyone in there?"

The chickens clucked loudly in the background, even as Scott ran to the front door and tried the handle. It was hot to the touch, but cool enough that it did not burn his hand.

Inside the house, he was assaulted by a wave of heat, but no flames. The fire died out completely some time ago, apparently.

It did not take long for him to find what, rather who he was looking for inside the house. When he did, Scott immediately felt the pit of his bile beginning to rise from his stomach.

He threw a hand to his mouth and staggered back. In the burnt out garage he found the corpse of a charred human being. There was no way for him to tell if it was a man or a woman, or even if it was actually one of his neighbors for that matter.

Near the charred body, he saw what appeared to be the burnt remnants of a propane torch. The flame had long since gone out, if it was ever active in the first place.

"Was he welding something in here when this happened? Looks like he used to be wearing goggles." It was impossible to know for certain, but the fact remained that most of the actual fire damage looked to be in this area. The melted goggles that were supposed to protect his eyes made it plausible.

Scott fought down his urge to vomit and checked the rest of the house. He found a woman and a dead infant upstairs.

He stood there for a moment, his shirt covering his nose. The sight of the woman and her child lying next to each other was incredibly disturbing. They didn't look injured, but after a quick check their bodies were far colder than they should be. He felt no heartbeat, and they did not stir. If they weren't dead, they were close enough to it that he could not tell the difference.

Smoke inhalation, or heat from the flames? He did not know which of them had taken their lives. Either way, the family was dead.

"Well, fuck..." said Scott. He did not know his neighbors well, or even their names for that matter. Yet, the sight of them lying dead in their own home was too much for him to ignore. He closed his eyes tightly and rubbed them for a moment while trying to rid himself of the unwanted images.

There were only five houses in the area, and two were empty. Scott went to see his other neighbor, but noticed their car was gone. He knocked on the door, but after a while he assumed they were gone.

After wading through the chickens, he returned home and immediately called 911. His eyes narrowed when someone else responded, "We're sorry. All circuits are busy at this time. Please hang up and try your call again."

"Shit! What's going on?" he asked in annoyance.

He glanced over at the people on television. They were sitting around discussing what they'd seen instead of attempting a surgery. The cameraman had not cut to commercial or anything of that sort. At first it seemed odd, but as Scott listened he began to piece together the reasoning for the show to continue. They had the time-slot booked and the surgeon refused to continue the operation due to what occurred a few minutes prior.

"This show's filmed in California..." said Scott. The same thing had happened to people on live television even though they were an entire continent away. Was there actual truth to what he'd witnessed in that strange dark area?

Several minutes passed in silence before Scott decided to get dressed. There was no point in sitting here when he needed answers. Running around town in his underwear would be foolish, so he opted for a good set of boots and casual clothes.

Chickens squawked at him as he walked by them. Several ran around in circles playing grab ass with each other. It was a golden era for chicken kind, the glorious revolution was at hand and with the flames of revolution came freedom for the tasty masses.

Down the street he eventually happened across the chicken house and saw the truck loaders standing around. The distance was too great to know what they were talking about, but it was obvious from their animated expressions that they were having a heated discussion. Someone had serious explaining to do in regards to the chicken liberation.

"Viva la nuggets?" asked Scott with a flat expression.

Eventually he grew tired of watching chickens wander around like they owned the place, and he moved on. Soon he came across other people wandering the road. A few looked askance at him, but said nothing. Their eyes wide in surprise and fear, they kept close to their little groups.

Scott wandered into the outskirts of town then stopped dead in his tracks. At the next intersection he saw several cars piled together in a broken and mangled heap. Bodies of the dead and injured were dragged up on the sidewalk, but no emergency personnel were on the scene.

In the distance, sirens blared, but the sound seemed to be receding. The first responders were not coming to this tragic scene, but to some other area of town.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the air. Scott raced forward to see what had happened, only to stare open mouthed at the answer. Down the street he could see the wreckage of a military helicopter. Concrete and other debris fell down atop it even now. A quick glance upward revealed the fact that a large section of a tall apartment building was demolished.

"Did the helicopter fly into it?" he asked slowly. "No, it must have crashed at high-speed to do all that..."

He'd just formulated his thoughts on the matter, the helicopter pilot crashed into the building during the time when people fell unconscious, when a sheriff's car pulled out.

A loud horn blared followed by a loudspeaker announcement. "It is not safe to be in the streets. Return to your homes and await further instructions."

Scott trotted over to the cop car. The officers inside waved him away, but he shook his head and shouted out, "We've got injured and dead."

The officers spoke back and forth briefly, then one rolled his window down and called back, "The medical teams are doing what they can, but there's a lot of it to do. We'll do what we can here till they arrive."

Not long after he announced that tidbit of information, another police car pulled up and a few men got out. They went over to the people gathered near the dead and injured.

"There's three more dead at my neighbor's house. The place caught on fire," said Scott.

"Anyone in need of medical attention?" asked the officer.

"No, they were dead. I just couldn't get through to tell anyone," he answered. "Even their baby didn't make it."

The officer rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and then shook his head. "Damn..." he said in a low growl.

Scott gave them the address to his neighbor's place then decided that it would be best to go home. It was a madhouse in town right now.

He spent the rest of the night holed up in his house. No one came to check on the dead family down the road until the wee hours of the morning. A police officer came to his door to check on him, and Scott informed the man that he was fine.

The conversation continued for a short time. He learned that there was a standing order for people to stay in their homes for the next twenty-four hours. Water and electrical services may be intermittent, and he should let them know if he had any medical issues that required either.

After discussing his needs, or lack thereof, the officer left. Scott watched as he walked over to the next house and knocked on the door. "Are they really going house-to-house checking on people?"

It was strange to see such a thing, but then the reason behind all of the deaths and injuries was stranger still. They'd never gone to these lengths after a bad storm, but this situation was more like the aftermath of an invasion than a hurricane clean-up effort.

He spent the day watching news broadcasts, and looking for signs of legitimate information. All manner of insane theories were tossed out onto the air waves to explain what had happened.

Despite the fact that everyone who survived the event possessed intricate knowledge of the new system to come, professional science types pulled a Sarah Palin moment and refudiated such things as nonsense. They disavowed and refused the concept to such a degree that it was impossible to stress how little they accepted the premise without combining the words refuse and repudiate into a portmanteau of utter rejection.

Scott listened to one well-respected scientist claim it was mass hysteria, despite the fact that people who were on opposite sides of the planet experienced the event simultaneously.

His favorite brain-trust individual was the one speaking now. He could not help but snort when the man spoke again to defend his position. The reporter interviewing the award winning scientist asked, "So, it really is your assessment that this happened because of space gas?"

"It's the truth! Gases entering our atmosphere must have built up for a lengthy period of time and caused everyone to hallucinate," said the scientist. "No other logical explanation exists."

"Man, the only space gas involved is right there between your ears fella," said Scott with an amused snort.

The science type on the screen continued to stress the dangers of extraterrestrial gas emissions, while Scott turned to look at the time. "They said twenty-four hours..." Soon the world would know for sure if the weird announcements in that event were true, or if alien farts were coming to kill them all.