Left Right Game Pt.1 | Creep Cast
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Welcome back to Creepcast. How you doing? How you doing? Today we are talking about the left-right game. This is something that we've been seeing in the comments a lot lately is the left-right game.

It's treat cast time! I'm so excited, especially for this one. I love it. Like, it's fun to torment you, don't get me wrong, with things I know are going to be terrible. But it's equally fun to just go in blind. I've heard of the Left Right Game. I don't think I ever read or listened to it. So this is a new experience for me. Oh, okay. So a new virgin experience for you as well. That's nice to hear. Yeah.

Very good. I mean, the amount of people that have been telling us to review this one or to read it and stuff like that has been a lot. And this is... It seems like a long one. I'm looking at it. It's ten parts. It's ten parts, yeah. Whenever we get into it, we can see, but...

Right now, it looks like it was uploaded six years ago by Neon Tempo to the r slash no sleep subreddit, which here before too long, I think we're going to have to journey outside of r slash no sleep. We're going to have to find a story outside of here. We're giving a lot of love to r slash no sleep. I know that there's other things you want to do, like the Twitter ARGs, I think would be fun.

A few like short horror stories that didn't originate on no sleep as hard as that may be to comprehend. Yeah. No, no sleep's a lot of fun, but there's, there's other corners of the internet we want to touch on for sure.

If you are watching this on YouTube and you're thinking about saving it for later, maybe listen to it during work or school and be a degenerate and listen to it at a bad time on Apple Podcast or Spotify. It helps us out a lot if you can go there, listen to it there, and also give us a nice little rating. They say it helps us. I don't know who...

It is these powers that be, but they do say it helps. So I'm just going to go with it. I have no, I know how the YouTube algorithm works. I have absolutely no idea how like the, the listening algorithms work. So I'm just going to say probably right. So do that thing. Yeah.

There was the thing. Well, actually, what was the thing here? I tried looking at the... You said on podcast. We were doing pretty good on podcast. We got up to like... Someone told me that we were like number one in our category for a while. And when I looked at it, we were like number 20-something overall. Like 28, 27. So, of all podcasts on Spotify. So, that's pretty cool. I hate to toot our own horn, but I think that we are...

We're tooting away, so we appreciate it very much. Yeah, so I think without further ado, let's just get into it and see what we can do here. Because like I said, this is a 10-part series, and it starts off with just saying, has anyone heard of the Left Right Game? Part 1. Let's go. You want to do the same thing we did last time? Narration and whatnot? I seem like it was resonating well. I can do the voice acting. And also, it seems like this time there's a lot more actual character stuff, so we can do that. Cool. All right.

A few points before we start. Firstly, I am not the protagonist of this story, I just went to university with her, and though she went on to become a professional writer, I most certainly did not. She'll be taking over from me further down, but until then, please forgive my slightly awkward delivery while I give you guys the necessary context. Secondly, I don't know what you will make of the following events, and I'm sure many of you might consider it all some sort of hoax.

I wasn't present for any of what transpired in Phoenix, Arizona, but I can vouch for the person who wrote the following logs. She is not and has never been a fantastic, a fan, a fantasist. Yeah, that's it. What the hell's a fantasist? Someone who makes up stuff, lives in fantasy, lives in a fantasy world. Yeah, pretty much. Yeah. A lot. Also a liar, I guess, met here anyway. Okay. Okay. So I once knew a girl called Alice Sharma.

What?

Editor-in-chief of the campus paper, recognizable voice of student radio. She was frustratingly tunnel visioned, and she was a journalist in her own right before anyone gave her a professional shot. So he's going to a professional school, the Edinburgh Uni, and she's a journalist, and it benefited my career as a bicycle repairman. That was sarcasm.

Okay. Yeah. He's like, don't worry. I have a degree in history. Definitely helps for what I currently do. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I see. I see. Uh, we met in student halls and became friends almost immediately. A meandering waster trying to stay off his parents' farm and an intrepid, ambitious reporter may not seem the most obvious pairing, but I learned not to question it. She was inspiring and smart and she proofread all my essays.

I'm not too sure what she saw in me. We were eventually flatmates down in London where she chased her dreams and I chased my tail. She got a few jobs here and there, but nothing befitting of her skills. After months of fruitless internships and rejections, Alice called a flat meeting, telling us that she was moving to America, accepting a position chasing stories for National Public Radio.

The job had come out of the blue, the result of a Hail Mary application she thought had been dismissed out of hand. We threw her a bittersweet going-away party and put the room up for rent. The party was the last time I saw Alice Sharma. She dropped out of contact a few months after her departure. Complete radio silence. I assumed she was just busy, so I carried on with my small but happy life and waited for her to pop up on television with some important words below her name.

Chief correspondent, senior analyst, something like that. The radio silence was broken last week, and for reasons you'll glean further down, I'm less happy about it than I would have thought. Arriving home from work, I found a lone email in my otherwise bare inbox. An email that would later be described as suspicious by my tech illiterate friends.

Despite being born in the early 1990s, I didn't own a computer until uni, and I've missed several important lessons in the world of cyberspace. Lessons like, don't call it cyberspace. Of course, and more importantly, don't open emails with no text, no subject, and no sender's address. I realize most of you would have deleted this anonymous blank email immediately. My friends certainly would have. But beyond my basic ignorance about online safety, something further compelled me to open it.

The only thing of substance in the entire message was a zipped folder labeled left.right.as. I don't have to explain what I was hoping those final initials stood for.

Wait, what? What was he hoping? What do you... I don't have to explain what it was. Oh, Alice Sharma. Her name. Her name. I bet. Yeah. Okay. I'm telling you, it's going right over my head today. Yeah, yeah. I was... These little sarcastic jokes, I'm like, I'm so distracted by him being such like an unconfident little piece of shit that I'm just like... I'm like, oh. It's like blurring the lines. That's a lot of violence just coming out of the gate. I'm sorry. I'm so distracted by this little piece of...

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. All right. Anyway, now that Hunter's got that emotion out of the way. I got it out. It's dumb. No more. No more. That's good. Yeah. I'm sure you won't have a single other one. Yeah. No more negativity for this whole time.

See, I would have read that completely backwards. Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Anyway, as July 2nd, like a true American...

I've since read the files a few times and shown them to some friends. They don't know what to make of it either, but they certainly aren't as concerned as me. They think Alice is just in a creative writing phase. And if I didn't know her, I'd have to agree. But the thing is, I do know her.

Alice Sharma only cares about the truth, and if that's the case with these files, insane as it may sound, then it's very possible my friend has documented her own disappearance. The people who suggested this forum said you discussed strange occurrences, etc.,

If you guys have come across anything to do with the below or know any of the people involved, then please send any information my way. Has anyone heard of the Left/Right Game?

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Okay. So this is, that's the entryway to what I think is the first part here, which is the first corresponding into the, the, uh, seven to 2017 post here. It says draft one, uh, before we get into that. Well, I'm curious if this little preamble, this little intro intro,

How are you feeling about this? I'm in. I'm in. I like the concept, too. She's a journalist. She goes away. And then for whatever reason, he gets the email. I imagine we'll figure out why as the story progresses. But this is from Alice's point of view. So I'm interested. I'm down for it.

Yeah, it is good. I think it's good. There's a lot of nice, cringy little jokes here and there. Nothing too egregious or whatever, but my God, build up some confidence. I'm wondering, honestly, with this, just to have a little thorough thing, does he feel...

You know, he's wondering why did he send it to her, you know, kind of thing. Is she using him and his insecurities against him or something like that? It's too early to tell, but it is very interesting. I do love the line, and same as it may sound, then it's very possible my friend has documented her own disappearance. It's pretty cool. It's a good title. Yeah, I like that. That's nice. So...

Without further ado, I guess let's get into draft one. All right. It'll be February 7th, 2017. Yeah, because this is dumb stuff.

speak yeah it's an england town it makes no sense i know that there i know the reason it's structured that way is because it's going from less to greater but that makes no sense it's not how you say dates like if i ask you hey hunter what's today's date you don't go oh it's 20th february no you go it's february the 20th and then the year if need be that's how that's why america does it the correct way anyway all right

All right, you talk about hostility for me. Yeah, well, you brought up British people. We got it out now. You brought up British people. I can't help myself, okay? That will make anyone mad. It's just bringing up the sheer thought of a British person. Yeah, I can't believe they exist anyway. Yeah. Draft 1 from, again, February 7th. They say great stories happen to those who can tell them.

Robert J. Guthard is an exception to that rule. As I sit at his table, sip his coffee, and listen to him recount the past 65 years, it sounds like he's reading off a shopping list. Every event, his first job, his second wedding, his third divorce, none of them receive more than one or two sentences.

Rob plows through the years, the curt, dispassionate curator of his own personal history. Yet the story itself is so fascinating, so rich with moments, and so wildly meandering that it somehow stands on its own merits. It's a great story, no matter how you tell it. By the time Rob was 21, he'd gotten married, had a son, worked as a farmer, a mover, a boat engineer, and grown estranged from his spouse. Here's him talking about it.

Yes, ideally. Alright, so, of course my wife started to get dissatisfied. I was away a while. For work? Vietnam. You were in Vietnam? How was that for you? I never been back since. That was everything he had to say concerning his first divorce and the entire Vietnam War. Hahaha.

Rob had four marriages after that and even more professions. After the war, he worked with a firm of private detectives, got shot at once by the mob. Then he became a courier, which is how a poor boy from Alabama got to see the world.

I think Rob is spinning some fucking tall tales. I think Rob may be lying a bit. True, most guys I know who have done cool stuff don't talk about it that much. But I don't know. To just be like, well, I ain't been back. That's a bit too short. Yeah. I've been to most of the continents with that job. I've been to India. You from India? My mom and dad are from India. Yeah.

I forgot. I need to do like a British accent here. My mom and dad are from India. Yeah. That's actually... Oh, that's pretty good. All right. Anyway. See, I could tell. He'd been arrested once in Singapore after one of his packages had been found to be full of white powder. He spent three days locked up before someone got around to checking the substance. It was chalk.

A friend he made during his brief custody, Hiroji Sato, invited Rob to stay with him in Japan. Just getting over the breakup of his third marriage, Rob took the offer. He stayed in Japan for another five years. The Japanese are good people. Good manners. But they got all these urban legends and ghost stories that Hiroji was crazy for. Spent all his free time chasing them down. Like, you heard of Jorigumo? I don't think so.

I'm sorry about that delivery. I imagine like a bewildered elf. I don't think so. Well, she's the spider lady lives in the Joro Falls around Izu. Your southern accent with this is so good. Well, she's a spider lady that lives in the Joro Falls around Izu.

I'm sorry, is that not the caricature that you're getting? I just don't believe Rob is actually going to these places. But he seems to be a learned man, so who knows. He's one of them educated types. He just talks too big. Okay. Anyway. Before I was rudely interrupted. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. With a criticism over my Rob speak. Like I don't understand the character. Well, shit.

Well, she's the spider. Gosh. Oh, my God. Well, she's the spider lady lives in the Joro Falls around Izu. Meant to be real pretty, but real dangerous. Roachie took us out there to get a picture of her.

Did you ever meet Jorogumo? Okay, that voice. I don't mean to keep... You know that fairy from Legend of Zelda? It's like the 50-year-old man in a fairy costume. You know what I'm talking about? Hey, come on, man. I'm a cute girl. I'm Alice Sherma. Did you ever meet Jorogumo? Okay, in my head, it's that... Is Tinsel its name? The elf or whatever? I don't know. I don't know.

I have no idea. It's that, but trying to sound like a British woman. Did you ever make Jorah Dumo? Thank you. Okay. Nah, she didn't show. None of them did. I didn't believe at all until we went to Alcogarra. Sure. Alcogarra. Alcogarra. Alcogarra. Alcogarra. Wait. Alcogarra.

Sir, if you've been there for so long, how do you not know how to say it? Listen, little missy, I don't even think that you're real. I don't know what you is, but it ain't right. Why do you say such horrible things to me? No, I don't see now you're whispering, and that makes me all kinds of bothered and uncomfortable, and I don't stand for it. You done got me riled. That's it. I'm getting my gun.

All right. Aokigahara, affectionately titled The Unalive Forest. Ha ha, I got you, YouTube. The next stop on Rob's adventure, it's an area of woodland at the base of Mount Fuji, a notorious hotspot for young people looking to take their own lives. Hiroji, Rob's ghost-obsessed jailmate-turned-best-friend, took him to Aokigahara to chase Yuri, the ghost of the forest. Hmm.

Did you find anything in the Agahari? Awakagahara? I thought... In the unaliving forest? I thought I couldn't pronounce it, now you can't pronounce it. What's this about, you little educated British lady? Well, it's not my native English.

I wouldn't say I'm a cultured woman. I just wanted to know if you've seen any... Oh, I see how it is. You think you're all sophisticated better than me just because I'm from down here in Phoenix. Well, let me tell you this. You think that it's fine for you to mispronounce it, but when I mispronounce it, it's because I'm some dumb yokel. Is that right? Yes. LAUGHTER

Now Rob, I need you to just get back to the fucking story, you deranged old man. Well, that ain't quite Christian of you now, is it? Did you find anything in Al-Gahara? Well, I ain't gonna ask you to believe me, but I was a PI. Professional cynic. Even I can't deny there was a spirit in those woods. From that moment on, Rob's sentences started getting longer. A childlike excitement creeps into his voice.

I get the distinct feeling we're moving beyond background, beyond Rob Guthard's old life towards his new one. The one he wants to talk about. The one that led him to contact the show. It walked up to me through the trees, looked like static to see on a TV screen, but it had a human shape, almost. Almost? It was missing an arm. It reached out to me, but I bolted out of that forest so fast, Hiroji never saw it,

Rob says that Mr. Sato had been going to the forest two to three times per year for three decades. To have a rookie come along and claim to have seen a Uri on his first trip, I'd be more than a little cranky. But Rob didn't stay a rookie for long. In fact, it was in those woods that he discovered his current passion, supernatural, or more accurately, the documentation and investigation of urban legends.

Legends like Bloody Mary, The Jersey Devil, Sasquatch. Rob had looked into them all. I figured if one was true, then who knows how many others could be. How many have you proven so far? Since Alcogarra? I mean, none of them had any proof to them. Except for one. That's why I called you guys up. At this point, Rob can't hope to repress his smile.

The Left/Right Game appeared on a paranormal message board in June 2016. Only a few people frequently visited the forum and, of these regulars, only Rob took an interest in the post. The whole thing had a level of detail you don't see in other stories. What date-tales grabbed your inten- what date-tales grabbed your interest? Logs. High quality pictures. The guy documented everything. Said he wasn't gonna play the game anymore. I think he wanted somebody to keep investigating.

And you were that somebody. That's right. I set about trying to verify his information right away. And how did that go? Well, it didn't take long to realize the left-right game is the real thing. The rules of the left-right game are simple. Get in your car and take a drive. Take a left, then the next possible road on the right, then the next possible left. Repeat the process ad infinitum until you wind up somewhere new.

The rules are easy to understand, but Rob says they're not so easy to follow. There ain't all that many roads where you can turn left and right and left and right and keep going. Most of the time you find yourself at a dead end or needing to turn in the wrong direction. Phoenix is built on a grid system, so you can keep going left and right as long as you need to. Did you move to Phoenix for the left and right game? That's right.

I try not to seem incredulous selling your house in another state, packing up and moving your whole life to Phoenix, Arizona, just to play a game you saw on the internet. It seems like insanity. Rob smiles as he reads my expression. I can clearly read his expression too. You'll see. It says, just wait. I wouldn't have to wait long.

Included with the nine-page submission Robson R. Show was a long list of suggested items that chosen reporters should bring with them. Clothes for three days, a pocket knife, matches, bandages. There were also a set of qualifications the reporter should have. The ability to drive, basic vehicle maintenance, and its human equivalent, first aid training. He didn't just want to talk about the left-right game. He wanted to take one of us along.

Rob leaves a short while later to embark on a few errands. Prepping the run, as he calls it. He shows me to the guest room and we part ways. On good terms, but very much aware of the other's poorly veiled opinions. He knew I saw him as a charming obsessive, chasing after a fairy tale. He saw me as a naive cynic on the cusp of a new world. All I could think as I heard the front door close is that by tomorrow afternoon, one of us would be right. More after this.

When I wake up the next morning, Rob is in my room holding a tray which he knocked on the bottom of to rouse me. I don't manage to record the start of our conversation. I got bananas, strawberries, chocolate syrup. We got some more downstairs, but I want you to wake up to something good. We won't be eating this stuff on the road. Rob has made me waffles. He sets them down on the nightstand and talks through the coming day as I eat.

I'll admit it feels a little uncomfortable waking up in a stranger's home to find said stranger already standing over me, but I quickly move past it. I tell myself that he's an older man, accustomed to living alone in his own house, not usually having to think about boundaries. Anyway, he certainly knows his way around a waffle iron. We hit the road at nine. I wanted to give you time to get ready before everyone shows up. There are other people coming? We got a five-car convoy on the road today. They'll be here in an hour.

This is the first I've heard of a convoy, and to be honest, I'm surprised. The game is Rob's obsession, and I'm here at his request. The idea that anyone else would have an interest in today's drive is a little perplexing. Half an hour later, sated, showered, and dressed in the functional clothing Rob had so painstakingly outlined, I take my pack out to the porch. Rob's already there, waiting for his associates to show up.

I thought you'd be conducting a few more errands. If you ain't prepared by morning of, you ain't prepared. Okay, I guess that's fair. Oh, Rob, is the garage locked? The inside door won't budge and I wanted to mic up the car. Yeah, it's locked. I'll open it for you. Thank you. In fact, it's about time I wheeled her out. Fair warning, Miss Sharma, she's a thing of beauty. To Rob Gathard, beauty took the form of a dark green Jeep Wrangler. Rob climbs in... Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah. A dark Jeep green Jeep Wrangler. Oh, God. You know what I like? I like the Jeep Wrangler from the beginning of Goonies. How do you switch in and out of that voice so fast? It's supernatural. My gosh. You remember the, I think it was either a Jeep Grand Cherokee or it was a Jeep Wrangler in the beginning of Goonies. But that style of Jeep back in the day, oh, man.

Good stuff. It was a good car. It was a good car. Good for you, Rob Guthard. Good for you. Yep. Rob, I like how you make that noise if it's Jeeps or questionably young women in stories. Oh, my God. Oh, good God. This is just, oh, my word. Stop noting. I can't do it.

rob climbs in and lets it roll out of the garage where it dominates every inch of the driveway the car this is as soon as i read the word dominates every inch oh god oh gosh the car is large

I was waiting on that. Yeah, I know you were waiting for that one. Four doors with a roof enclosing the entire compartment. It's also been modified extensively. Yet another example of Rob's dedication to the game. What are you thinking? I think you're too caterpillar-tread short of driving a tank.

yeah i fixed her up good i put the winch in heavy duty tires the light rig on top is leds they'll make midnight look like noon but they don't use hardly any power aren't cheaps open top usually or not at all this is the unlimited i like to have a covered car when i head on the road i climb in and stow my pack rob had removed the back seats to afford more storage space

The place is packed to the brim. Jerry cans of gasoline, barrels of water, rope, snacks, and his own neatly packed set of clothes. I wonder if the rest of our convoy would take the game so seriously. We got Apollo coming up in ten minutes. No one else has given me a time. I sent the schedule weeks ago. This always happens. His name's Apollo? That's his call sign. Apollo Creed, I think he said. Why are you using call signs?

did I not tell you? oh yeah we're gonna use call signs on the road keep communication clear what's your call sign? ferryman what's my call sign? I thought about it I was thinking London you're from London right? I'm from Bristol sorry back is robbed Bristol that's fine I guess

It's less than 10 minutes before Apollo turns the corner. Rob jumps out of his chair and paces briskly over to the edge of his property as his first guest pulls up and steps onto the sidewalk. Apollo vaguely resembles his namesake. Dark skin, tall, and noticeably well-built, though it's clear he couldn't be less of a fighter. This Apollo Creed is all smiles and seems to have a penchant for laughing at his own jokes. "How far have you come?" "I've come out of Chicago, took three days hard driving,

And do you know Rob from the forums? Everybody knows Rob. Rob's the god. I can't wait until there's like six people. It's going to get very, very difficult. I'm so pumped. Okay. Rob walks over to Apollo's car, gesturing him over to talk shop. Rob's clearly impressed with Apollo's choice of vehicle, a blue Range Rover packed to the ceiling with kit.

I was more impressed with Rob himself. Somehow, this 65-year-old farmer's son had become respected in a vast online community. My dad is Rob's age, and he's just discovered copy and paste. The rest don't take long to arrive. Two Minnesotan librarians, also around Rob's age, pull up in a gray Ford Focus.

They're brother and sister, and they've shared ghost hunting as a hobby their entire lives. I find it hard to suppress a smile when they meekly introduce themselves as Bonnie and Clyde. We would have gotten here sooner if we had to drop by to get some blankets. Pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Pleasure to meet you, too. Would you be the journalist? That's right. You used to write for the town paper, didn't you?

This is like your schizophrenia setting in. Yeah, which I know, I'm like, yeah, that's right. You used to write for the town paper, didn't you? I'm a little girl. I'm a little girl. It's all your different characters crumbling in on each other. This is his middle break. I can't wait.

I'm going to let viewers know, too, there's a lot of characters coming up, and this is going to get very messy. So if you're not on YouTube watching this, and you can see the characters' names there, I'm sorry. It's going to get very sloppy. You know, it's pretty funny, because initially I was like, oh, maybe he doesn't have enough to read. But now that I'm looking down, I'm like, nah, he's fine. Oh, I got it. I have plenty. I have plenty. He's talking...

He's talking to his sister there. She nods. Clyde is clearly the spokesperson for the pair. Yet, they both seem incredibly shy. Whether they admire the famous outlaws or just the name, it's pretty clear they couldn't be more different from the real thing. Next to show up are Lilith and Eve. What a great, what a great pick. English lit students at New York University and proprietors of the YouTube channel Paranormicon.

Unlike Bonnie and Clyde, Lilith and Eve have no issue holding a conversation. As soon as they learn who I am and what I do for a living, they attempt to conscript me for an expedition to Roswell. We have a friend there. He's been seeing some... He's a scythematologist. Yeah, and he's been recording readings over the years that show subterranean movement. Predictable movement. We're going to see him in July. But we could work it around you if you're free.

I'll have to check my schedule. Okay, let me give you my email. They quickly hurry off to film an intro for their latest video featuring a quick interview with Rob who seems pretty welcoming of the attention. The last two cars arrive within a few seconds of each other. A lithe, strong-willed older lady who goes by Blue Jay and a younger man going by the call sign Ace. Blue Jay has arrived in a gray Ford Explorer. Ace, much to Rob's annoyance, has arrived in a Porsche.

Did you think that's gonna help on the road? I didn't write that. It's my car. What am I meant to do? It's my car. You didn't read my itinerary. You got nothing packed in there. I did read it, okay? Calm down. I have a bag. I won't ask you for anything. Well, I know that's true. Ace and Rob are off to a bad start. Ace takes a phone call, and despite my best efforts to get an interview with Blue Jay, she doesn't seem interested in talking to a journalist.

With five cars and seven travelers waiting for a green light, Rob hands out radios and charging packs, then launches into a quick safety briefing. Wear seat belts, stay in position, communicate clearly and often. It's at this moment I start to feel a little dismay. I like Rob, and clearly so does everyone else. He convinced all of them to drive around the country to join in with his game. I start to worry what will happen in the likely event that the whole thing isn't real.

Would Rob lose the respect of his peers? Would he accept failure when it comes? After seeing the effort he's put into these runs, the next few hours have the potential to be wildly uncomfortable. With a smile and a few encouraging words, Rob ends his briefing and beckons me over to the Wrangler. I clamber inside and make myself as comfortable as possible. You ready for this, Bristol? I'm ready. Okay then, let's hit the road.

The Wrangler pulls out of the driveway and the convoy follows in order of arrival. Apollo, Bonnie and Clyde, Lilith and Eve, Blue Jay and Ace keep a steady pace behind us as we come up to the first corner. Rob slowly and deliberately turns left, checking on the others in his rearview mirror. He looks back to the road as Ace's Porsche completes the first turn of the game. Shortly afterwards, Apollo checks in on the CB radio.

This is Apollo for Ferryman. How many more to go, Rob? As many as it takes. I could tell Rob wanted them to reserve the radio for something other than Apollo's quips, but he seems to like Apollo enough to let it slide. I'm not sure Ace would have received the same treatment. We take the next right, then another left. Now, safely assured that everyone's following correctly, Rob speaks my thoughts aloud.

You're wondering the same thing Apollo is. What do you mean? You're wondering how many turns we're gonna take before we hit some wall or something. Before you find out, this is all just a story. Does that disappoint you? I'd be disappointed if you weren't thinking something like it. But now, we're on the road. I gotta say something and you gotta listen to it. Okay. We're coming up to a tunnel soon. Anytime before we reach it, you can get out. Walk in any direction you like and you won't be in the game no more.

Once we go through, you've got to retrace the route we took to get yourself back out that tunnel. That's when you're home. And you've got to convince someone to take you back in the car because I ain't firing you back 20 minutes in. You've got until the tunnel just to get out on this. Understand? I understand. Though I have to say I'm getting a little nervous. Ain't nothing wrong with a little nervous. We've taken 23 turns by this point.

Already, I feel like we're traversing the city pretty effectively. Rob's heavily modified Wrangler solicits a few impressed glances from passerbys, as well as several honks of respect from other Jeep drivers. Other than those few moments, everything seems completely indistinguishable from a regular morning drive. I even start to worry if there'll be anything at all for this story. Reporter takes drive with interesting man isn't exactly Pulitzer-worthy. Turn 33 leads us onto a short, unassuming street.

a row of small businesses in a quiet Phoenician neighborhood. Liquor, secondhand clothing, tools, and at the end of the street, a little shop selling antique mirrors. Ten or so people shuffle along the sidewalk, smiling, talking, planning their weekends. The only lone person is a young woman in a gray coat. I briefly glimpse her at the end of the street, standing on our next corner. The back of her coat reflected in 50 old mirrors.

Even from a distance, I can see that she's sullen, wide-eyed, and nervous. She shifts constantly on her feet, tugging at the bottom of her coat. I look away to write some notes as we roll down the street. When I look up again, the woman is standing by my window, staring right at me. She's smiling, a wide, unfaltering grin that seems almost offensive in its complete insincerity. "'Lamb's at the gate!'

than clover when all they find are things worse than the slaughter rob what's happening so now it's about to be like well that's that's a statement all right lambs at the gate yeah hoping for something better than clover when all they find are worse than slaughter huh very uh almost like uh not poetic but like a rhyme or something like a nursery rhyme or something weird like that it reminds me of uh the gates of hell and dante's inferno abandon all hope ye who enter here right

Yeah, yeah. Feels very foreboding. Rob, what's happening? I ignore her. He wanted to leave me, so I cut him out. Yeah, I love that. Ignore her. She does this all the time. Oh, yeah, the gray ghost lady. Stupid-ass gray woman. Who cares? Ignore her. God. He wanted to leave me, so I cut him out. The lake was hungry. It drank the wound clean. Miss, are you all right?

The smile vanishes. It snaps from her face and suddenly the woman is furious. What do you think you're doing? Have you gone mad? I reflexively press myself back in my chairs. The woman, wild-eyed and gaunt, slams her fist against my window with every intent of breaking through. Would you dance down the lion's tongue? It will shred you, you whore! It will shred you down to your sins, you fucking bastard!

Joe. Okay. What a weird, like this story amped up so quick. God, just ignore. Yeah. This started with, ah, she does this. It's just, who gives a shit about this old broad? Just don't even look at her. Good Lord, man. She's like, I'm the gray woman. Yeah. Who cares? This blue, this pink, who gives a shit?

There's women all over the world, lady! That's what he should have said. He wanted to leave me, so I cut him out. The lake was hungry. It drank the womb clean. I imagine this is all foreshadowing for events later. Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's definitely foreshadowing for sure. He wanted to leave me, so I cut him out. What do you think you're doing? Have you gone mad? Would you dance down the lion's tongue? It will shred you, you whore. It will shred you down to your sins, you fucking bastard.

So I'm wondering if you're saying, what do you think you're doing? Have you gone mad? Is it the idea of them maybe going into this tunnel? Like she's like, yeah, I think that's what she's talking about. She was, she might've been a victim of it. Cause remember Rob says, you've got to retrace the steps. You're not getting out. Maybe this is what happens. She clearly seems like someone who, yeah, she seems like a by-product of like somebody getting lost in there or the repercussions of not making it out in time or something.

I'm over it. By the way, this whole concept of like, you just take left, right turns. I love it. I'm, this is great. This is such a fun horror in concept, right?

Yeah, I'm curious to see where part one ends to kind of give some feedback because I'm curious so far. It is fun, though. I like it. In a way, it's its own. It's like a universal puzzle box thing. Yeah, yeah. Just by doing these things and going down these movements, you're unlocking a certain kind of passage or something. I kind of want to play it.

Like, I read this, like, that sounds fun. Anyway, sorry. Yeah, exactly. You're going through your own town. Yeah. I don't know where my husband went. Yeah. Rob puts his foot down, and the Wrangler rolls defiantly away from the woman. As we turn the corner, I watch her as she wretches, her every movement cradled in abject hysteria. She yells despairingly at the rest of the convoy, bursting into tears when the last car passes her by.

As she shrinks into the rearview mirror, I see her turn to a large mirror on the side of the shop, which the owner is in the process of polishing. I watch as she walks up to it and with a convulsant scream, slams her head into the glass.

god wait so she saw this from the rear i mean it's pretty it's pretty small i guess you could make out someone like you know throwing their body back kind of like a silhouette oh definitely still but it's just it's crazy she's just like watching this happen this woman is basically screaming at the convoy crying and then out of frustration or some kind of emotion walks over and just slams her head into the glass that's pretty crazy yeah

The mirror cracks around her forehead. The owner jumps back in shock, and as the woman pulls her head from the mirror's surface, the fractured spiderweb is dripping red. It all happens in a split second, and she quickly swerves from my view as we take the next left. Rob, what was that? She's there sometimes. On that street? On the 34th turn. Who is she? I don't know. She's never acted out that much before, though. Must be a special trip.

I find Rob's lack of concern a little unpleasant, and his implication that this woman's ravings were the symptom of an internet game leaves me more than a little perturbed. As I see it, there are a few explanations for what just happened, and none of them lead to a comforting conclusion.

If we had just encountered a bonafide crazy person, then one could argue that Rob is just seeing what he wants to see. Maybe he'd modernized the game's story so much that every strange but explainable occurrence would be rationalized as the next step in his favorite paranormal narrative. Alternatively, the woman could have been an actor. A more elaborate theory, sure, but not unheard of. People have lied on the show before, and Rob was receiving a ton of publicity for this attempt at

from Lilith, Eve, and I. I admit, Rob didn't seem like a liar, but good liars never do. There's a third alternative, however. An alternative which, if you put logic aside, explains all the troubling little details that I couldn't help but notice. Because as strange as the gray woman was, isn't it stranger that no one on the street would react? I couldn't recall a single glance in her direction by anybody on the sidewalk.

Perhaps that theory falls apart when you consider the shock on the mirror seller's face, but when I think about it, he only reacted once the mirror shattered. And even then, I feel like his attention was on the mirror itself. The radio crackles. Lilith to Bristol. Sarah, Eve got that on camera. Do you have the audio? I think I picked her up. My God, that was so weird. Can you send us the file when we stop? Can you ask the ferryman when we're stopping? When's our stopping point?

For them, in about 30 minutes. For you, well, you tell me. Rob turns off a busy street just before a large intersection, onto a much quieter stretch of two-lane road. Ahead of us, the road slopes downward, leading into an underpass, which disappears into darkness. We'd arrived at the tunnel. What is this supposed to pass under? Ain't supposed to pass under anything. It's just there. And if we weren't playing the game? Then it won't show.

The question is, are you playing the game or not? Rob turns to me. It's the first time he's taken his eyes off the road since we started. He pulls the car to a slow stop at the mouth of the tunnel. You get out now, you can go wherever you want to go. But through there, you'll need a car to get yourself home. And like I said, mine ain't turning around a long while. You understand?

It's a dramatic statement, but, unsettlingly, it doesn't feel like he's attempting to dramatize. It feels like I'm having something genuinely asked of me. Am I ready for what's to come? Do I accept the risks involved? Do I consent to be taken down this road, and the next road, and the next? Am I prepared to see this game through, real or otherwise, to its end? "What are you waiting for?" Rob smiles and turns back to the road.

He picks up the CB radio, holds down the button on the side. The microphone crackles. This is Ferryman to all cars. Anyone want to step out, then pull to the side now. Otherwise, stay in formation and have some supplies at hand. Got a long ways to go. Much like the game I'm so tentatively playing, my view of Robert J. Guthrid seems to change direction frequently. I'd heard all about his life, but I'm sure that I know him.

I like the guy, but I'm not certain that I trust him. And though I admire his dedication to the left-right game, I'm not sure I'll like where it might lead us. Yet as he takes us into the tunnel, his face vanishing and reappearing under the dim sodium lights, I can tell that he expects this trip to be a major step in his already impressive story. And this time, for better or for worse, I'm along for the ride. Hmm.

That is the end of Part 1, which... There's a lot of interesting stuff. The build-up to that... I will say, a bit of a slow burn, a little bit. It kind of takes a second to get going, but... Towards the end of that, I think it really sets it up. Also, the game, the left-right game being set up is really fun, too. Like, I think, like... I really enjoy this kind of, like... Wondering if this is real. I mean, obviously, I'm thinking that it is a real thing, but...

I'm wondering to what extent there's been a lot of like different pieces of, uh, information that we've received throughout the story. The person who is not our protagonist, who isn't Sherma, um,

She isn't the protagonist who leads us into the story. Instead, it's somebody that she knows, an old classmate who basically says that he thinks that she wrote her own disappearance in a weird way. So it makes me think of something too, with the gray woman who only appears on the 34th turn that we're maybe going to go into like different dimensional travel or different kind of like existence, especially with the idea that she presents that she's like, Oh,

Oh, he only really reacted with the mirror. So I'm guessing that that woman doesn't exist in the same reality that these people do. And he only reacts whenever she breaks the glass that physically affects the thing in his reality. Yeah, I think that's what it's implying that they're kind of viewing a layered dimension or some kind of alternate dimension. So the only thing the mirror guy noticed was the glass breaking suddenly, not the woman that caused it.

So it's like the left-right game opens you up to another plane that exists on the same, like, three-dimensional space as ours, but, you know, in, like, reverse of it, or, like, mirror of it, so to speak. I think, um...

Something weird, too, when he's like, she always pops up on the 34th turn. I had a question for you. I was curious what you thought. So is it the 34th turn anywhere in the world? Do people see this particular woman? That's what I think he was implying. Because she asked, like, on that corner, he goes, well, the 34th turn is where she pops up. So regardless of where you play the game, you'll see similar things at similar turns. I also like that the game is mostly played in grid system cities like Phoenix. Yeah.

Because you don't get lost or anything, right? Yeah, yeah. Around here, that would lead to a dead end pretty quick, I think.

Yeah, definitely. Definitely. I think that you would definitely end up that or even like in someone's driveway or something weird like that. I think that there's not a lot of streets and stuff. So it's interesting, but I'm curious. So basically part one, just to recap, ends with Sherma and she is in for the ride. She accepts the call here. And he pretty much made it very, very clear, which I think this is going to bite her in the ass later down the line.

That Rob is like, I'm not going back. Like, it's going to be a long time before I go back. I've been for the long haul, yeah. Yep, exactly. So she came in to this person who's obviously very eccentric, and I think they build that in a good way. A person who is definitely clearly obsessed with this game. He has this whole community around him. Yeah, yeah. Yeah, community of people around him. And now he's at a spot where I think she's going to, it's soon going to become very real to an extent where she's like, I didn't know that this is what's going to be.

And I feel like there's going to be some kind of I'm wondering the it's an interesting building the group dynamic that way, because what it makes me think of is almost like in like horror movies with if it's like people are going like camping. Right. How does the group how does the conflict in the group start and start separating people or how do people get picked off? It's going to be very fun to see. I'm curious, especially with this thing where it's a long tunnel. I'm very curious to see what happens with that, too.

Yeah, I'm pumped. Like I said, they've already sold me. I'm so excited to see where it goes from here. The concept, I love. I'm down for it. I just got back from doing this thing with friends where we went to the Donkey Lady Bridge in San Antonio where the whole thing is like you pull up and then you roll down the windows and turn the car off and you'll hear like a donkey brain in the woods. I love stuff like that. So having like one creepypasta built around one, I'm here for it. This is great.

I love a universal puzzle. You can be anywhere in the world, and if you perform these left-right game correctly, you will unlock... You'll be able to go into a different kind of dimension or something, which I know we're over-speculating. I'd love to play the left-right game for fun. I don't know how it could be creepy, though, because I don't think we'll get different dimensional entities, but it would be a fun video to do that at night.

That would be cool. Yeah, we'd go to Phoenix and just start driving around there. That would be pretty cool. That would be sweet. Yeah. If this video gets eight bajillion likes, then we'll... Yeah, exactly. If we get 43,000 comments on this video, we will go to Phoenix, Arizona and livestream the game. There you go. That's the spirit. All right. All right, let's move into part two. Part two, once again, has anyone heard of the Left Right Game? Part two. Part two.

And it starts off again back with the student. Who's putting all this together. Yeah, the person who is basically not the main protagonist, like he said, but just the narrator who is presenting these stories online. So they open with...

Hi, everyone. I've got the day off work and I wanted to start it by posting up the next log. I also want to thank you all for your responses so far. A few people have linked me to the sites that Robert J. Guthrie may have operated on. Someone even offered to look for the mirror shop in Phoenix and try to retrace the route to Rob's neighborhood. I'm going to spend the day making a few international calls and sending emails out. But if you guys have any other ideas about how I could pursue this, I'd really appreciate them.

In all honesty, I'm going to need all the help I can get. The whole ordeal has proven pretty categorically that I am no Alice Sharma. Speaking of which, I'm going to let her take it from here. Thanks again. So the story begins. It is still the same draft, although this entry is from February the 8th, 2017. Yeah. So we're on the day still where the day that she got there was the 7th. So this is the next day when she woke up and he made her waffles and stuff. So it's still that day.

The next term comes immediately after the tunnel. We'd been in the dimly lit passage for almost two minutes, but at the pace Rob likes to travel, it's hard to figure out how far we'd actually gone. When we descended into the underpass, we were just nearing the outskirts of Phoenix. Scrutinizing the rearview mirror as we leave, it's fair to say we aren't that much further out. Everything else, the temperature, the time of day, the weather, all seems exactly like it had been before we ventured into the tunnel.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, of course, but it certainly doesn't feel like we're anywhere new. The tunnel itself had been similarly underwhelming, especially considering the importance Rob seemed to place on it. In fact, the only thing of true entrance since we passed through was something Rob said once we hit the halfway mark. As the tunnel's mouth loomed towards us, Rob picked up the CB radio transceiver and issued a casual warning to the convoy. The message itself was straightforward. His choice of words, however, was...

Curious. I decided to ask him about it. "Rob, just a second ago, when you told us the next turn was coming up, why did you use the word 'trap'? I have it in my notes. You said, 'folks, we're coming to the inn soon. First little trap's coming up. Our next turn is sharp left as we leave. Our next turn is sharp left as soon as we leave. Look out for it.' Is there a reason you used the word 'trap'?

Just one of those things. Fellow who wrote all the original logs, he liked to think the road would try and trick you into making a wrong turn. Small roads off large highways, roads obscured from view, sharp turns like this one. He thought the road was trying to deceive him. Yeah, pretty much. I gotta say, I agree with the guy.

By this point, we've taken the offending corner and the next right a little further on. I can't help but feel that Rob is reading a great deal into what is, essentially, an abrupt turn in an ordinary road. The level of conspiracy he's able to place behind such a simple thing, going as far as to ascribe some mischievous quality to the asphalt itself, it's hard to take seriously.

In fact, I'm starting to wonder less about whether Rob can convince me this game is real, and more about whether I'd ever be able to convince him that it isn't. Perhaps this story will be less about where a magic roadway goes after a few zigzagging turns, and more about where the human mind can go if it invests too heavily in an idea. To his credit, Rob has noted my cynicism. He even seems to welcome it. But if our current surroundings are supposed to convince me, then he's going to find me more cynical than he anticipated.

Rob keeps his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road. Any attempt at an interview receives a pleasant but curt response. He's not being evasive, his attention is just elsewhere. Before I know it, half an hour has gone by without Rob speaking a word. It seems like a part of the Left/Right game involves driving in complete silence. Once again, I'm not sure what I expected, but it's certainly not been an earth-shattering start. At least it gives me time to type up my notes.

Ferrymen to all cars! We stop here. An uneventful hour and a half has passed since we left the tunnel. I didn't notice Rob pick up the receiver, but before I know it, the Wranglers pulled up at the side of the road, leaving a large space behind us for the rest of the convoy to park up. The buildings are getting few and far between now. It won't be long until we were in the desert proper. With this in mind, I assume Rob is simply stopping to let everyone drink up. I probably shouldn't assume when it comes to Rob Guthrie.

Though this is definitely a rest stop, Rob also has some important words for the crew. He gathers us around in a rough semicircle, talking while we eat our provisions. Now, I mentioned in the emails that at certain points on this trip, you need some things just because I say so. This is one of those times, y'all understand? Uh, yeah, I guess. We get to know what it is, right? This is when he tells us to give him our money, right, Rob? Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Yeah, I'd rather know what's going on. I hate Apollo, by the way. The Apollo voice is so good. He laughs every time he speaks. He does. Okay. And I don't intend on keeping anything from you. I just want to be clear that across this next stretch, you need to follow my orders to the letter. Yeah, we get it. Just tell us already.

Rob takes a few moments, perhaps to lend gravity to his point, perhaps to swallow some barbed words intended for the increasingly impatient ace. When he does speak, it's in a measured and serious tone. He's clearly adamant that we take his words on board. For about half an hour, the next 13 turns, we'll be going one by one. We travel in order of formation. Me and Bristol will go first, then I'll radio the next car to follow.

When you reach the Jeep, you park up behind me. Then we keep going as normal. Now, Rob takes a deep breath in. When he starts up again, his speech is even more pointed than before. There's a hitchhiker on the road. A well-dressed man with a case. You pick him up. You take him where he needs to go. You do not, under any circumstances, talk to the man.

To be safe, don't look at him. Don't take anything he offers you. Don't open the door for him or wave goodbye when he leaves. You do not acknowledge him in any way. You want my advice? Don't say a word until you get to the stopping point. Why do we have to go one by one? Guy who wrote all the logs says he don't like choosing cars. I don't know what that means, but I'm lucky I never had to find out. Why don't we just not pick him up? That isn't an option.

Well, I mean, yes it is. I don't see why we... Damn it, you'll pick him up whether you want to or not. Okay, for one, let me just say about that whole interaction. I'm immediately in. That whole thing about the hitchhiker. He has a case, don't look at him, just drop him off where he needs to go. This is the kind of like old school Americana folktale that I am all about.

go so yeah we're i love the introduction of just like weird rules yeah or something i'm just like yep so you're gonna see a hitchhiker just pick him up don't talk to him at all and just drop him off yep which i'm so so stoked to see this uh interaction with him i i hope the hitchhiker is just fucking deranged i'm so excited this is great all right the group is silent this is the first time rob's raised his voice

In the ensuing stillness, Ace looks like he'd be more than happy to turn his car around and retrace the route back to Phoenix, leaving Rob in the dust with a few choice words. I can sympathize with him a little. Rob's been treating him as an annoyance, a tag-along who didn't do the homework, but at the end of the day, Ace is doing nothing to fix things. Also, Rob is essentially right. He didn't do the homework. Well, okay. I suppose we should get back on the road then, if everybody's ready.

Deciding he has nothing more to say to us, Rob marches over to the Wrangler. Bonnie, Clyde, Apollo, and Eve sit on the floor sharing snacks. Ace loses himself in his phone, and Bluejay, still maintaining a noticeable distance from the group, takes to her car with a copy of US Weekly. "Bristol, can we talk?" I turn around to see Lilith, holding her cell phone with the screen facing me. "Yeah, sure, what's up? Have you tried to make any calls since we came through the tunnel?"

No, not yet. Why? Could you try? I pull up my own cell and dial into the office. The line's busy, which isn't exactly uncommon. Lilith watches intently, waiting for a reaction. Hmm. I'm not getting through. They were busy? Yeah. Why? Everyone is. We have signal. We can make calls. But everyone on the other end is busy. Don't you think this could just be a coincidence?

I really mean everyone, Bristol. Well, Eve's been driving. I've been calling. My camera's automated a support line. 911. You dialed 911. For science, yeah. All of them are busy. I even called this guy at my dorm who has a serious thing for me, and trust me, he is not fucking busy. This is weird, right? It's like we've crossed a threshold and the world's suddenly doing something else, you know? In all honesty, I'm not sure I do know.

I don't want to say it, but it still seems like a massive stretch. Luckily Rob saves me from commenting when he calls me over to the car, clearly eager to get back on the road. I tell Lilith we'll look into her discovery on the other side and she nods in agreement, retreating to her friend and immediately stealing a handful of apple slices. I climb into the Wrangler and wave goodbye to the convoy. We slowly roll back onto the road and set off on our way, watching the rest of the group disappear into the background.

I feel noticeably more isolated despite Rob's presence, or perhaps because of it. I'm not exactly sure. The hitchhiker shows up about ten turns later. Just like Rob said, the man is incredibly well-dressed, in a well-fitting brown suit with a dark green tie. Even from a distance, I can see his shoes are expertly shined, as is the varnished wooden case resting on the floor beside them.

He stands on the side of the road and raises his hand gingerly, wearing a look of hopeful anticipation. Who is he? The Hitchhiker. Is that really all you're going to say? It's all I can say. You understand the rules here? Don't talk to him. I'd say don't talk at all. Not until we stop. When we stop, we're safe.

Rob veers slowly over to the side of the road. The hitchhiker smiles appreciatively, grasping his hands together and shaking them in thanks. Picking up his case, he strolls over to the wrangler whilst unbuttoning his blazer. See you on the other side. Oh man, this is so good. The back door opens. The hitchhiker pulls himself into the storage area. Finding no seating, he settles himself cheerfully on some of the softer luggage just behind me.

Not much in the way of seating back here, huh? I have to admit, I do feel a subtle urge to respond. Even after the storm warnings I've received, to ignore the man seems almost instinctively rude. I was raised British, after all. So, where y'all from? I'm traveling in from Oakwell. Dude, I'm like, I'm actually kind of scared right now. Like, the idea of just, like, a happy man who's trying to start a conversation, but for some reason you can't.

yeah well i gosh yeah there's so many like weird red flags too or not necessarily red flags but like if you do respond i bet you that demeanor is not going to be so chipper yeah yeah for sure oh this is good all right i glance at him in the rear view he meets my gaze and smiles i flick my attention back to the road continuing the white lines stranger persists in trying to start a conversation

Ten minutes go by. The silence grows palpable, broken intermittently by yet another cheerful attempt at conversation. Topics include what nice weather we're having, our professions, our hobbies. In response, I busy myself with pointless but occupying tasks.

I find myself playing games in my head, thinking of common phrases and making them into clunky anagrams. It seems to work, and after a short while, I start to habituate to the man's small talk. I almost don't notice that he's there. Maybe that's what allows him to catch me out. You're just a fucking disappointment, aren't you? That's a fun turn. That's a fun turn.

Oh no. What?

The word is on the edge of my tongue. A single note, my vocal cords were all but ready to play. Only the sudden vice-like grip of Rob's hand on my forearm angers me in the moment. I stare at the hitchhiker, my mouth still open. He's different now. All of the warmth, all of the pleasantry, it's drained from his face like running makeup. His smile is malevolent.

calculating, and finally, it feels honest. "You wanna know things? I can tell you." Rob keeps his eyes focused on the road, but his grip on my arm tightens. "I can tell you everything you wanna know. Even the things you never knew about yourself. Even the thoughts you didn't know you were thinking. Those little critters. All the way at the back." We stare at each other for a moment longer before I turn around and back to the road.

I don't count the white lines anymore. Now I'm focused intently on anything our passenger has to say. For the next ten minutes, ignoring him is going to have to take my full attention. He only tries a few more times, reverting back to more innocent questioning. Nothing takes. Five minutes later, he indicates to a seemingly random point at the side of the road, and Rob drops him off. The man thanks us, climbs neatly out, puts down his case, and waves as we depart.

When we disappear around the next corner, he still hasn't stopped. Surprisingly, the silence caused by the hitchhiker's presence isn't nearly as intense as the one left in his wake. I decide to break the tension somewhat ungracefully. "To be fair, we are having a nice- we are having nice weather." "Don't talk." "Well, you mad at me. I'm sorry he got to me. I wasn't expecting-" "You did fine. We don't talk till we stop." I go back to my notes, making a point to write down my current feelings.

For the record, embarrassed but relieved, once I put the words down on paper, however, I feel something else. Confusion mixed with concern. Because at the end of the day, what was I relieved about? That I didn't talk to a strange man who had tried to talk to me? Was anything really at stake?

The more I think about it, the more I realize that the entire episode with this mysterious hitchhiker reduces the left-right game down to two possible states. It's either real or it's an elaborate hoax, perpetuated by Rob J. Guthrie. The crazy woman, the tunnel, the malicious left turn, all of those could have been explained as rationalizations, but the hitchhiker was far too elaborate, far too difficult to predict. If he was an actor, then Rob is nothing more than an impressive fraud.

If he was genuine, then I'm not entirely sure where that leaves us. Something in the corner of my eye pulls me from my thoughts. A transient, peripheral object that almost completely passes me by before I turn in a weak attempt to catch it. It only gets a few seconds to look before it's gone from my field of view. I face forward once more, sit back in my chair, and let Rob carry us ever further down the road. It's not too long before we finally pull over.

You did good. I'm sorry for grabbing you. I just didn't want you to do something you'd regret. No, it's fine. I was going to... Do you know what happens if you talk to him? Not sure. Came close myself once, a few years back. The way he looks at you when he thinks he's got you, I don't think I'll want to know. Rob, I saw something a few minutes ago. I don't know if you've noticed it. Afraid I had my eyes forward most of the time. There was a car on the side of the road. It had crashed off the bank...

Have you seen that before? I ain't never seen that, but random stuff sometimes shows up here and there. Have other people... Have people other than you run the left-right game? No one I know of. Whoever it is, whoever it was, they'd probably just rather crash than face that damn hitchhiker again. He's there on the way back, too? If you're unlucky. Well, something to look forward to. Rob picks up the CB radio and messages for Apollo to set off, repeating his warnings concerning the hitchhiker.

I feel like everyone's going to get a similar speech before they embark. Ace will probably get it twice. Half an hour later, Apollo shows up. Though he laughs about his ordeal, he's clearly a little shaken. Guy should call himself an Uber. You can't shut those guys up. Did you guys have Uber in England? Yeah. Then you know what I mean, right?

I imagine, if I had where he said Apollo Creed, I imagine actually, oh, he just passed away. You know who I'm talking about? The actor. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I imagine actual Apollo Creed shirtless in his American, like, American flag trunks and boxing gloves. Oh, yeah. Like, stepping out of the car and you're like, that guy should call himself an Uber. Yeah, steering the car with boxing gloves on. Yeah, that's what I imagine.

Oh boy. I love this story. This is already concept. All of it. There's a group of people. I can imagine people getting picked off to these different creatures are going to come across. This is awesome. I love it. This is, this is my kind of creature feature. I'm wondering if ACE is going to get fucked here. Probably. Uh, he may stay around. I'm wondering. He may stay around to pester our, uh, to pester Rob a bit more, but I don't think he's making it out of this trip for sure. Oh man. Probably not. All right.

Bonnie and Clyde arrive quicker than Apollo. They pull up at the back. Clyde helps Bonnie out of the car and they proceed to stretch their legs. Once Apollo joins them, it's clear that everyone has a different story to tell. The hitchhiker offered Clyde travel suits, pleasantly but firmly insisting he take one. Apollo almost got talking about his music taste after the hitchhiker asked to play something on the radio. That particular story does leave me curious about whether we still get NPR on this road.

Rob customarily greets Bonnie and Clyde, then walks off to signal even Lilith. He's still sitting in the Jeep when I meet him at the door. Do you think she's wondering about the radio just because of the busy signals that they're getting with their phones? Maybe. Yeah, I think that's what she means. Like, does the radio still work? With how bubbly Apollo is, I'm actually surprised that he didn't fall prey here, honestly. That kind of makes me think that Apollo's kind of covering up a nervousness, but he gets it, you know?

Yeah, I mean him being so laughing, like him being so like, you know, bubbly makes it seem like, yeah, like almost like it could be Red is nervous. Yeah, he's trying to override stuff he actually believes in with like humor. Yeah. Yeah. Hey, what are you up to? Just went by the phone. The girls are on their way. You need anything? Um, maybe. I think Apollo's been affected by the whole hitchhiker thing a bit more than he's letting on. Oh, good call. Yeah. Yeah.

He seems just fine to me. I'm not so sure. He's only smiling when people are nearby. Could you talk to him? Well, I ain't much comfort. I got four ex-wives to tell me that. Think it might be better coming from you? I think this is a man-to-man conversation. I might just get a brave face. Rob doesn't look comfortable, but he acquiesces, climbing out of the car.

Last man-to-man conversation I had, my son didn't talk to me for three months. Goddamn. Rob's a bit of a crustacean himself. Good lord. Yeah, Rob's had some time. He's got some weather under his wings. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I watch him wander over to Apollo, who is standing by his Range Rover, staring into his phone.

Rob puts a calming hand on the man's shoulder. From a distance, it's actually a sweet moment. I start to feel bad for lying to him. I carefully open the driver's side door and climb into the Wrangler, assuming I have around 20 seconds before Rob comes back. Picking up the CB radio receiver, I stare at a list of presets, labeled 1 through 9. I don't know which button I press to talk to even Lilith, and I certainly don't have time to call everyone up.

Rob handed us all transceivers before we left. It's what he's been making all the all-car bulletins with. Preset 1 puts him in touch with a transceiver in each car. I've seen that in practice enough times. The rest of the Presets must access transceivers individually, and if Rob is the man I think he is, he gave our radios out in order of position. If that's the case, then either Rob or I could be Preset 2. Apollo would be next, then Bonnie and Clyde.

Without knowing where Rob has placed himself in the queue, the only option which would guarantee me getting through to Lilith and Eve would be preset 7. I think that makes sense. With no time to check my work, I press the button and snatch up the receiver. "This is Bristol to Lilith and Eve. Are you guys there?" The receiver crackles quietly. I look in the wing mirror and see Rob making awkward small talk with Apollo. Perhaps his four ex-wives were onto something.

Lilith to Bristol, how's it on the other side? We haven't seen Hitchhiker. Oh, by the way, I just phoned Eve and it went through. Could I have your number to test? Sorry, Lilith. I'm phoning about something else. Why? What's going on over there? Apollo's nodding to Rob. I can imagine him making assurances that he's perfectly fine. I really don't have long at all. I have a mission for you, but you have to keep it a secret. Sounds awesome. What's up?

Rob's starting to walk back to the car. I shift into the passenger seat, still holding the receiver.

Is there anything specific you... Talk to me later now. Thank you. Bye. I slam the receiver into its holster a moment before Rob opens the door. He shrugs at me. He seems fine, unless there's something he ain't telling me. Okay, so... I think... I had the suspicion when she first mentioned it. I think the car crash she saw is something that actually happened to her. Yeah. Yeah, definitely. Like it's like a friend or family member in the car.

Do you think it's possible because she almost interacted with the hitchhiker that it's like something that maybe just like dove into her mind a little bit? Because the hitchhiker was also like, I can tell you all the things that you don't even know yourself or whatever. Yeah. And I'm wondering if it's just like the universe or this kind of like dimension thing, like kind of digging memories out of her mind or something. I think that's probably what happened. It's some deep subconscious part of her that's been portrayed now.

Sure. Yeah, I think so too. The rest of the day is fairly uneventful. Lilith and Eve pull in, beaming about their experience with the hitchhiker and bragging about what the dash cam footage would mean for their channel. Lilith ends her story by insisting that nothing else happened for the rest of her journey, whilst directing a highly intentional look in my direction. I look away and make a mental note to catch up with her when less people are around. Bluejay seems to be the least faced by her run-in with the hitchhiker.

We do manage to get a few words out of her, though perhaps a few is an exaggeration. I'm tired. After which, she goes to sit down on her own. When Ace pulls up to the side of the road, he almost falls out of his car. His legs are weak, his face gaunt, his breath is quick and shallow. I try and get him to talk about it on tape, but he shrugs me off, eager to hear about where we're going rather than talk about where we've been.

As we travel for a while longer, now at around 486 turns, and nearing our first night on the road, Rob signals our stopping point, a quiet clearing at the top of a hill. Rob clears a sleeping area in the back of the Wrangler, leaving a line of luggage as a barrier between us. I appreciate the thought, but don't really know how to tell him. In the end, I just say, Thanks for making room.

Apollo attempts to keep everyone from going to bed, issuing a vague statement about making a fire, but people quickly shuffle off to their cars. The early start and the subsequent events of the day have taken their toll. I watch Lilith and Eve break away from the group and head to bed. I suppose I'll have to talk to them tomorrow morning when Rob isn't around. I still feel a bit bad for lying to him and for pulling Lilith and Eve into what could be a blatant act of dumb paranoia. Rob seems like a good man. A reasonable man. Excuse me.

A reasonable man. As flawed as any of us, but fundamentally decent. But the fact remains that when I talked to him about the crashed car, he clearly said, "'No one I know of. Whoever it was, they'd probably just rather crash than face that damn hitchhiker again.'" "'I want to trust Rob. I want to believe him when he says he didn't see the car, that he'd never seen a car on that stretch of road, but for a man of so few words, he might have said too much.'"

If he truly never saw the car, how did he know the direction it was facing? I make all my notes concerning this subject on paper and in shorthand, which I'm hoping, in Rob's long and varied life, he hasn't inexplicably learned to read. Long after Rob's gone to bed, I stay in the passenger seat typing up my thoughts of that day. That was Sister Moon by Leslie Estrada. Another song to calm you folks down as we head into the evening. It's Chuck Greenwald, and I'm with you to the witching hour.

I also love that. I love a radio host on like a desert night, middle of all this supernatural stuff going on. I'm with you to the witching hour. Yeah, that's so good. I decided to put the radio on in the end. I was curious and I also wanted the company. I turned the volume way down so the noise wouldn't reach Rob and searched around for something to have in the background.

There aren't many stations to choose from out here. The clearest one is Radio Jubilation, the local station from a nearby town. The current DJ, Chuck Greenwald, has been playing soulful folk music for an hour. It's been a busy week in Jubilation as we welcome in our new school principal, a very impressive guy who's bringing some new and interesting proposals to our community. It's got a few people talking about funding for the arts. If you've got a view, we'd love to hear it.

I finish typing up my less clandestine notes and just then realize how tired I am. Wanting to sleep, but not yet prepared to move the single yard between me and the air mattress. I lie back in my seat, listening to Mr. Greenwald address his beloved town. Well, we're going back to your request very soon, and I can tell you we've got some goodies on the way. For now, though, let's take ourselves to the new box. They're going to hurt now.

*laughs* Immediately, at the volume of a whisper, Radio Jubilation begins to broadcast a cacophony of bone-rending screams. The noise shreds the air, what sounds like hundreds of people each contributing their own voice to a collective symphony of pain and torment.

I instinctively move my body away from the radio, suddenly upright and wide awake. The cries are ceaseless, agonizing, punctuated only by half-stifled, tear-choked pleas for whatever is happening to stop. A moment later it does, or at the very least, the screaming cuts out as the soft tones of Chuck Greenwald take over. I look from the radio, over to the sleeping figure of Rob J. Guthrid. I can't help but stare at him, and a single thought runs through my head.

I hope this man's a fraud. I hope he's playing me. Because if he isn't, there's something very wrong with this road. Hope you folks enjoyed that. We're going to be bringing you much, much more. This is Chuck Greenwald telling you you're always welcome in Jubilation. Stay with us. End of part two. Bro, I'm in. I'm in. I'm so in.

I like Sherma's character of being a reporter kind of thing. It kind of makes her, it makes her like the, I guess the speculation that she has as a reporter and as like a truth seeker. Yeah. It makes her feel like, of course, she's going to want to dive deeper and find the truth to the situation, which also gives her a lot of like,

I think motivation and it gives her a lot of like reasons to why she's sticking with this thing or why she would be on this crazy. Why she'd stick with it as long as she is. I just went to the next thing and it has an immediately 18 mature content. Oh, no. Rub, rub, rub.

Well, okay. So before we go into anything, yeah, so you have to click it to say not safe for work. You have to click that. So here we go. Just putting that out there for our viewers here as we roll into part three. And

And if this goes to the Boroska slash Pimpals direction, I didn't mean for it to. Hunter suggested this one. It's his fault. That is true, but I am doing it because of the suggestion of the comments. So it's your fault. The comments are the ones that are guiding us. So it's always their fault. Or also, Hunters, as long as it's not mine, I don't care. As long as you all know. That's true. As long as it's not mine, I don't care either. Okay.

I'm in the same boat as you. And so basically if we can recap really quick, since we've been, you know, we're, we're about an hour and a half in, it's been a, I can't believe it's, it's already been that quick. The story has been kind of flying by after the story is kind of slow start in the first act. It's been very fun. The hitchhiker really perked me up. I'm, I'm very excited. Hitchhiker was dope. I love the radio broadcaster.

Yeah, Chuck Greenwald. First off, what a name. What a name. I'm ready. Great name. I'm so ready. Also, it seems like how much of the things of like if there's been – it's been a lot of different stuff. We've been hearing a lot of things about people's perceptions of things, trickling in with the gray woman, smashing her head, and only the guy reacting until the mirror breaks. So I'm thinking that whenever she talks to Lilith and Eve, whenever Sherma talks to Lilith and Eve –

I have a sneaking suspicion they're going to be like, yeah, we never saw it. We never saw a car wreck. And I think it's going to start to unload that all of these things are... It's like this weird dimension is talking to you directly. And that's why also Rob has these very strict rules. Yeah. You know...

follow my design because this like labyrinth of a series of streets which also did they say that it's just like are we still in kind of a residential area or is it just I imagine they're out of the desert now because a small town nearby is the only radio signal that I imagine there's not like civilians walking on the side of the road you know sure so I imagine they're in the desert around Arizona yeah

Okay. All right. Well, I mean, here we are. Part three. Let's get into it. All right. Once again, we have an intro from our friend of Alice who says, Hello again, guys. I finally got around to posting the next log. I would have put this up sooner, but unfortunately, I've had bikes to repair. And if I don't do it, the customers might go online and discover it's not actually that hard. Okay.

I want to thank you again for the help you've given me in finding Alice. The guy who said he tracked down the mirror shop is giving me regular updates on his progress, and I've received a whole lot of help going through American Missing Person reports. It turns out Alice's work, Alice's work haven't heard from her either, and they're going through their emails for Rob's submission to the show. Everyone's been really helpful, so thank you. I've got to say, I'm sleeping worse since this whole thing began.

It's strange to think that all the time Alice was out of contact, I was pretty content. Yet now that she's got back in touch, every day I don't hear from her makes me that much more worried. That's assuming, of course, that it was her who sent me the email. I really hope it was. Thanks again, everyone, and please let me know if you find anything.

So to kind of – just to kind of retouch on that a bit. So she sent him the first message, or he assumes that he sent her the first message that had no email or had like no – did it have the email address or is it like no subject, no sender? It was just an email that had like a file. It was left.right.as. Okay. And then that file was these text logs, yeah. Right.

Right, okay. And he's assuming that the AAS stands for Alice Sherman. So that's what he's hoping. Okay. But did she send, just to reiterate, did she send all of these text logs at once or has it been these kind of things like, oh, I got the new text log. Remember, he said that each one had a different date. Each log had a different date attached to it. So he got all of these at once. He's converting them to text and uploading them for no sleeve one at a time.

Sure. I see. Okay. So that's why the title of the whole series is has anyone heard of the left right game because he's trying to get answers to it.

Yeah, and he hasn't heard from her in years, right? This was just something that one day he's like, oh, shit. Yeah, I remember Alice Sherma. We graduated together. And now she's like used him as the benefactor for these stories for some reason. And even he's confused. Yeah, yeah. Okay, so now it starts off the left-right game. The draft here is the next day on the 9th. So she's been with Rob for two full days now. Yep. All right, so...

This is the next part three, also February the 9th as the last entry. So anyway, rice, non-perishable. Soy sauce, non-perishable. Salt, non-perishable. Eggs, well, they're perishable, but I bought them fresh and I got hard boiled. That'll last a week. It's breakfast time, start of our first full day on the road. Rob's been up since seven o'clock cooking a meal for anyone who wants it.

The aroma pulls us out of our makeshift beds and arranges us around his portable stove. Our bowls are already full before we realize there's a catch. The trade-off for this supposedly free food? A ten minute lecture from Rob about the power of rice. See, in the Pacific, our guys used to be terrified of the Japanese. Whole armies marching on grains. Thought they were super soldiers. See, the Japs knew the secret. You give people rice in the morning and they're going for the whole day.

After dropping two large spoonfuls of his favorite staple into a bowl and handing it to me, Rob breaks a raw egg over the top. The yolk clouds over as I stir it in. To be fair, the food is delicious, and it's fun to watch Rob on his soapbox. At least, there are some things he's willing to talk at length about. I stare across the circle at Lilith and Eve. The latter has spilled rice onto her top, and her friend is teasing her playfully. Eve sees me looking over, meets my gaze, and turns back to Lilith.

Her tone dramatically muted. I returned to my food, making a point to seem attentive to Rob's speech. A minute later, the two girls decide they've finished their meals, and I quickly realize so have I. Devouring the last few bites, I place my bowl in the small tub of hot water next to the stove and casually wander over to their car. Lilith and Eve are facing away from me, silently packing up their sleeping bags. They refuse to look at me once I reach them, in a deeply conspicuous attempt at subtlety.

Is he watching? I glance over at Rob. He's still talking to Bonnie, Clyde, and Apollo, asking them to guess what breakfast translates to in Japanese. I think we're fine. So, did you see the car? Without answering, Eve reaches into the backseat and picks up a MacBook. The repository for all of Paranormicon's footage. Paranormicon's pretty decent YouTube name, by the way. Oh, dude, not bad at all. Someone's probably stole it since then, but pretty good.

She presses play as Lilith and I huddle around her, blocking the view of any potential onlookers. The footage depicts a familiar road. Lilith and Eve must have dropped off the hitchhiker and just made the next corner. I can hear them talking about the experience, both terrified and thrilled at the events of the day. Eve reminds Lilith that they need to look out for the car. Lilith swears and the camera immediately starts scouring the roadside. Look, there it is! I see it! Slow down! Slow down!

The abandoned car comes into view. With Eve slowing to a crawl and Lilith maxing out her camera's zoom function, a precious few details can be summarily gleaned. The car's windscreen and driver's side window are broken. The keys are still in the ignition and once Eve overtakes the wreck, it's just possible to make out a dark stain soaked into the driver's seat. Stop the car! Just as video Eve starts to slow to a halt, the real Lilith shuts the laptop.

I glanced between them, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. You stopped the car? I mean, yeah. We know you told us not to, but it was, like, really weird. So I went over and... You got out of the car? For the record, I was super against it. Anyway, there wasn't much in there that we didn't get from the road, except there was a bag on the back seat. Did you get a look inside? Yeah, yeah. Do you want to...

Lolith nods her head towards the back of their car. It takes me a second to realize what she's getting at. It's in the boot? It's in the what? It's in the trunk? Yeah, obviously. We couldn't just leave it there. Look, you can wash the rest of the fudge at any time. We'll even send it to you, but you need to look in the bag before we hit the road. I check on Rob once more. He's washing up the bowls and cutlery, exchanging small talk with Bonnie, oblivious to what's transpiring a mere five meters away.

Lilith and Eve escort me to the trunk, reforming our secretive huddle before Eve lifts it open. A brown leather duffel bag sits front and center. It looks expensive, but worn. Probably a few decades old. The pair gesture for me to unzip it. Just to preface this, I want to say, this whole trip has been fucking weird. The bag isn't exactly full. I rummage through the loose contents, finding a few sets of good quality men's shirts and a pair of jeans.

Further down, I find a small and well-used shaving kit. I'm starting to wonder what Lilith and Eve are so bent out of shape over when my hand hits the hard edge of a straight, rectangular object. Slowly, and with great care, I manage to extricate it from the layers of wool and denim. It's a package. A heavy square block about the length of my forearm, neatly wrapped in brown paper.

It seems completely unassuming except for a black wire hanging from the underside, leading back into the back itself. Lifting the wire, a black plug rises out and swings slightly in midair. Turn it around. With both girls watching me intently, I turn the package in my hands. The wire connects to the charging port of an old Nokia 3210, which in turn is superglued to the package along with a few shards of exposed circuit board.

Last, but certainly not least, are the words emblazoned on the brown paper in imposing black typeface. C4 Explosive. My mouth feels dry. I wasn't expecting that. I know. Fuck this road, right? There was tons more in the trunk, too. It was insane. Is this dangerous? Not right now. It's basically inert unless you have the detonator. You sure?

We have the Wikipedia downloaded on our hard drive. It's the only reason Eve let me bring it here. She read the article like three times. Anyway, the Nokia's out of battery. Okay, well, I'm not even going to ask how you know that. I don't get this. Why would someone bring plastic explosive for left-right game? I mean, what the hell are we heading into? I have no idea. Do you know if Rob has any? If I have any what? When I look up, Rob's only a few steps away from us.

I hide the C4 behind my back, dropping it into my satchel next to my notebook. I just manage to pull my fingers out of the way as Eve instinctively slams the trunk shut. Tips for sleeping in cars. These guys had a rough night. Ah, well, I'm sorry to hear that. Just something you gotta get used to, I guess. We're hitting the road in 15-20 minutes. That alright with you guys? Yeah, totally. Bristol, you mind helping me pack up? Not at all. Okay, so, pause real quick.

That's fascinating. The implication is someone... So...

I think Rob's line when he says no one else has led a game before, right? I think other people have. And then Alice makes the point that how would he know what she saw if he didn't see it? He's like, oh, I didn't see what you were looking at. Oh, yeah, someone probably just didn't want to go to the hitchhiker. That's why he crashed going that direction. But it's like, how do you know you didn't see the car? How do you know what she's talking about?

So this is someone who Rob either played with before or knows about, who for some reason decided to bring a bunch of explosives, like a bunch of phone bombs into the left right game, which was some of the creatures we're going to run into is probably a reasonable, right? Um, but he wasn't in the car. And despite this wreck potentially happening a really long time ago, the car is still on fire.

This is interesting. A lot of questions. Well, here's a couple things I'm wondering too. I'm curious what you think is. One, why do you think Alice Sherma is being so deceptive to him? Do you think that, has he warranted that kind of response from her? Because really he's only had, what, one emotional outburst and it really wasn't even that crazy? No, but I think the reason... Is it just because he's such a stickler of the rules? No, I think it's because she caught him in a lie. I see. So she doesn't want to reveal that she's like...

that she feels deceptive that she feels deceived by him. What more, more, more than that. It's the fact that she saw a car and was like, what's the story with that? And she catches him lying about not knowing what the car is. So she's like, I bet there's something with that car. He doesn't want me to know about.

So that's why she's doing this. So that's why she's like, hey, can you guys secretly give me this info? Because she doesn't want him to know. Not that she thinks Rob's going to get her killed or anything like that, but Rob is hiding something from her with whatever that car is.

At this point, do you think Rob is hiding this information to... I mean, there's obviously so much more that we have to read, but do you think it's because he is trying to help her, or do you think that it is deceptive? Like, how are you reading Rob right now? I read it as Rob probably has such an obsession with what he's doing, he may not be...

I mean, this may be a bit harsh read of his character at this point, but I suspect he has such an obsession with this, and he knows people can die in this game, like whoever was driving that car, right? He knows accidents can happen, and he's still willing to bring people along for the ride. So...

The reason I'm wondering is if he knows that people can die in this game and he wants to make sure that people are playing by the rules is I'm wondering if he needs bodies. That's a good point. I didn't think about that. These people are coming along because he knows like, oh yeah, at certain points people are going to get fucked and I'm not going to be one of them to get through. I didn't even consider that. Oh, that's dark. I'm wondering if that's his intention or whatever because he's playing the nice guy now and stuff and he's very much by the rules and stuff. So that's where my mind's going.

oh boy we'll see though we'll see you know i i also suspect uh bluebird or ladybird whatever her name is knows more than she's letting on uh maybe she played maybe she's played the game with him before or something yeah too too quiet and also too like um the only person that he hasn't really talked about he has kind of an opinion on everybody but he hasn't really communicated with them exactly and bluebird's kind of doing their own thing just like

being by themselves very shortly very uh that may actually explain why she's so distant from the group because if she knows that some of them are going to have to die she doesn't want to get attached

Could be. I mean, could very well be of stuff and something where maybe this character doesn't like Rob in that way. And then like they because of something like maybe like they know somebody who's trapped in the game or something. You know what I mean? There's just a lot to unravel. I don't want to get too speculative too early, but just we're coming up on the halfway mark of the story. And I just feel like we're this is the point of like we're going to start seeing some truth come out. Good stuff. Good stuff. Let's see.

Painfully aware of what's hanging at my side, I step away from Rob towards the now-dismantled stove. Looking over my shoulder, I see Lilith and Eve are watching us go, their faces awash with apprehension. I can't say I feel the same. Despite my surroundings and the multitude of unsettling events, I don't have space in my head for apprehension just now. All anxiety is slowly being pushed out, its territory annexed by a bolstering sense of resolve.

There are far too many strange things happening on this road, and even if it kills me, I'm going to find out what they all mean. Rob, can I talk to you? We've packed everything in the back of the Wrangler and are about to get back on the road when Ace comes up behind us. Rob turns around and I sense an icy shield raising up as he curtly addresses our compatriot. What is it, Ace? Can I ask you something? It's okay if you need me to go home after...

The shield thaws. This isn't the Ace we've seen before. Rob's perceptive enough to notice. He engages, albeit cautiously. What do you want to ask? Ace shuffles uncomfortably. Suddenly, he seems much younger. Does the Hitchhiker... Does anything happen if you... If you don't pick him up? Damn it, Ace! I told you! You can't... Tell me what happened. I was making my way down the road, and I was angry at how you'd been, and when I saw the Hitchhiker, I thought I should...

you know do what i said just drive by a starts to tremble unable to meet rob's eye a minute later i look in the rearview mirror and he's sitting in the back of my car he's just just talking about the weather i mean i swear i didn't pick him up but when i think about it all these memories come back i start to remember pulling over letting him in it's like i did it but i didn't even did you talk to him

"No, no, no, no, no, I promise I didn't say a word." Rob stares at Ace in silence. Ace hangs his head, like a penitent criminal facing judgment. Feels awful, don't it? Ace finally looks up, confused at Rob's words, searching the man's expression for clues. "I did the same as you the first time. Just drove right by. Wasn't gonna let some stranger in my car. Nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw him in the rear view." Rob grins at Ace, who manages to smile shakily back.

You ain't got the right gear for this, Ace. I like to run a tight ship, and I gotta say, it pissed me off. If you want to turn that Porsche of yours around, no one will thank any less of you. But if you want to keep on this road, how about you try to listen more, and I'll try to be less of a hard-ass. Rob holds his hand out for Ace to shake. It's an offer of peace, or at the very least, an offer of terms. Ace accepts it, grimacing only slightly as he faces Rob's iron grip. About time we hit the road.

Five minutes later, we're rolling into a deep valley, each member of the convoy peering over the crest of the hill behind us. Everyone's present and accounted for, including Ace. I have to say I'm impressed. With what? With how you handled Ace. One might presume a guy who's been divorced four times isn't the best at conflict resolution. Divorce is conflict resolution. That's a... that's a good point. He seemed to be saying the Hitchhiker made him pull over. Is that really what happens? Yep.

He always ends up in the back seat and you always remember picking him up. It's just, it's just not scientifically possible. Yeah. Get used to that. I love that rule. I just want to say that I love that deal of like, it doesn't matter. I think that I wonder if he told them like, Hey, stop and pick him up just to make it a little more rational in your brain. So you don't feel totally fucking psycho like Ace felt. Yeah. So you don't get caught off guard. Cause remember if you speak to him that you're gone, you're in right now.

so yeah yeah yeah like if you don't pick him up and then yeah it's best to keep your wits about you in that situation exactly exactly and if you don't pick him up because i'm wondering if all he's also like hey if you don't stop and pick him up you're gonna be really surprised when he just shows up in your back seat yeah yeah probably like what the hell why are you here and then boom you're in so you spoke exactly yep this is so good this is so good this is like a drug okay

We spend the next two hours in silence, with me typing up my notes and Rob navigating the sparse few turns that show up every now and then. Ace's testimony troubles me, perhaps because it stretches my favorite theory, that the game is an elaborate hoax perpetuated by Rob Guthrie. I was content that the Hitchhiker could have been an incredibly deaf performer, but even if that man was a ratatrain thespian, that doesn't make him capable of mind control.

Ace could be insane, or maybe an actor himself, but those ideas sound exactly like the idle rationalizations I decried in Rob earlier. I'm not sure what my theory is at the moment. I keep working, hoping to type my way to Revelation. A few lone trees have started to show up in the distance, towering wild pines with trunks as thick as barrels.

Without my noticing, the trees grow slowly more numerous and, in that creeping way that landscapes change, it isn't long until they span both sides of the road, encapsulating us in a deep, bright forest. Realizing I've recorded everything of substance and with Rob concentrating on the drive, I have no choice but to lay back in my seat and watch the world roll by. Despite the pervasive strangeness of the left-right game, there is beauty on the road.

Under the light shade of the canopy, the smell of pine needles permeating the still air, I actually feel myself starting to relax. It only takes three words to change that. The words don't come from Rob. He's as quiet as always. They aren't spoken by the rest of the convoy either. The words are writ large in calligraphic gold paint resting on a spotless white sign.

Even from a distance, with the letters little more than a blur, I know what they're going to say. They're the words I've been dreading since I switched off the radio, the words I spent a long, troubled night hoping I'd never see. Welcome to Jubilation. It turns out there is room in my head for apprehension. This is Ferryman to all cars. We're going to be heading through a small town. No rules here, just keep driving and we'll be fine. Rob puts his radio back into the receiver. I try to ignore the distinct knot in my stomach.

What does the name Chuck Greenwald mean to you? About as much as John Doe. Why? He's the radio DJ here. In Jubilation? How do you know something like that? I was listening to his show last night. What do you know about this place? Seems like a good town. Folk don't pay attention to you. I just head straight through. You've never seen anything? Untoward? Some weird stuff now and again. I like to keep my eyes on the road.

The forest clears abruptly, like a parting curtain, to reveal a picture-perfect American town. Archetypal almost to the point of self-parody, we've arrived in jubilation. There's no denying this town is beautiful. We're welcomed by a row of vibrantly colored shops spanning the length of a long, wide street. At the far end, an ornate gray-walled town hall proudly surveys its domain. The place is immaculate.

I fail to find a solitary piece of litter on the sidewalk, a single smudge on the plate glass shop windows. Every inch of jubilation is pristine, tranquil, and noticeably deserted. "Where is everyone?" "I don't know. There are usually some around. Maybe there's a game on." We take the next right, then another left. The story's the same at every turn: a beautiful, leafy suburban town entirely bereft of its human population.

The cafes are free of bustle. The surface of the public pool is still. We even see the school. A row of finger-painted faces smiling at us from the kindergarten windows as we pass by. The building itself is locked up, however, which is odd, seeing as it's noon on a Wednesday. Eventually, the wrangler pulls onto the first residential street we've encountered. The sign on the corner reads, SICAMORE ROW.

The quaint shops are replaced by luxurious houses, all of them identical. White walls, wide porches, and fresh green lawns cut to a uniform length. The road stretches in a straight line for about a mile, creating an eerie corridor of copy-pasted buildings. The strangest thing about the street, however, is vocalized by Rob. Well, I guess we know where everybody is now.

In front of every house, a dining room table stands on the lawn. Okay, I love this story so much. Oh my gosh, it's so... Oh, I love this weird, unexplainable horror of the uncanny. Very uncanny. Yes, oh my gosh, I'm so in. As soon as it's like there's a dining room on the front lawn, man. Oh, this is good. I'm here for it. Okay. Okay.

In front of every house, a dining room table stands on the lawn, occupied without fail by a family of four. One husband, one wife, one son, and one daughter. They're sharing a meal together. A unit on the left clink their glasses of orange juice as they dine on pork chops and salad. The family on the right share a large hunk of meatloaf. Broad smiles on their faces, staring along the road, I estimate upwards of 800 people.

in neat subsets of four, all dining at the same time. None of them seem to notice us. Ferrymen to all cars, looks like we've come during a town celebration. Let's not bother these good people as we pass on through. Rob lets the car roll slowly down the street, his foot light on the gas pedal trying to make as little noise as possible. The more families we pass, the clearer it becomes that every single one of them share common characteristics. All of them are impeccably dressed,

All of them consist of the same subset, husband, wife, son, daughter, though their chosen meals vary slightly. They all share a ruckus, almost oppressive happiness. Small town America, am I right, guys? Apollo's jokes don't make things any better. I feel claustrophobic. Trapped.

Some screaming animal deep within me knows that it's surrounded on every side by something it doesn't understand. I don't know if I'm imagining it, but as we've continued down the road, everyone outside seems to be laughing a little harder, celebrating a little more. We've successfully crept more than halfway down the street, a sharp left turn coming up at the end, representing the road out of jubilation. Another street comes up on the right, Acer Road.

While we pass by it, I take the opportunity to glance down this new avenue, curious as to whether every street is like ours. I don't like what I see. The houses are similarly prestigious. The wall is pristine white, but like a spot the difference puzzle, it's the subtle changes that make the picture. There are no tables, and no families on the wide green lawns. Almost every window I can see is broken.

Cars lie abandoned in the road, with one smashed into a splintered porch. Above every door, an X has been drawn in red paint, and outside of each house, a small mound of clothes lies on the fresh-cut lawn. A huge collective pile of men's, women's, and children's shoes tower at the end of the street, seemingly ownerless. Great going, everybody! Let's get back out there. We've reached the end of the street. I breathe a sigh of relief as we bid farewell to Jubilation.

I vindictively see it off in my wing mirror as we turn the corner. I immediately wish I hadn't when, in the split second before it disappears from view, I glimpse the 800 plus residents of Sycamore Row. They aren't smiling anymore and they're all looking our way. I welcome the forest as the trees rise up around us once more. The indifference of the nature is a welcome change to the saccharine,

faux civility of Jubilation. Guys, we gotta keep this channel clear. We hurry along the next road and turn right. The further we get from the eerie town of Jubilation, the higher our spirits seem to be.

About another four hours. Nothing big in between us and there, though. Shouldn't be a problem. Good to hear. So, what does breakfast translate to in Japanese? You heard that? Yeah, I've been curious all day. Does it have something to do with... I jolt forwards, sharp pain in my neck as my head recoils back against my seat. Rob has stamped his foot onto the brake, bringing us to an immediate and shocking halt.

Before I can ask why, my question is answered, as one of the colossal pine trees slams into the road ahead of us, blocking our route forward. Damn it! You alright? I'm fine. Massaging my neck, I look towards the base of the felled tree. The low end is covered in straight, sharp-cut marks. Someone has brought this tree down, timing its fall in an attempt to cripple the wrangler. Rob, what's going on? Ferrymen to all cars, full reverse, watch out for the people behind you.

The convoy pulls away, back down the road towards Jubilation. Rob waits for Apollo to start moving, then backs up himself. There's a second jolt as Rob abruptly stops the car, surveying our means of egress. "Ferryman to all cars, road's done for but there's a gap at the end. Be careful."

Rob's right. Though the tree has fallen across the tarmac, only the thin treetop lies over the grassy bank between the road and the forest. There's a bit of valley between the edge of the road and the grass, and Rob wastes no time in showing the others how to negotiate it. Twisting the wheel, Rob dry-steers towards the gap and proceeds cautiously towards the roadside. I watch the asphalt disappear beneath us moments before the telltale bump. The wrangler drops down the small bankside and turns around the fallen tree.

I watch the needle-covered tip brush against my window as we roll past. With a second bump, Rob brings us back onto the road and pulls us over to the far edge, turning the Jeep to face toward the convoy. Okay, Apollo, make your way! On it, Rob. As Apollo swerves towards the gap, I hear something. The sound of a running engine. At first, it's so quiet that it's almost impossible to isolate it from the convoy's own rumblings. It's since grown louder, however, and it's growing steadily more noticeable.

Rob, someone's coming. Apollo, get yourself over here right now. All cars, you're on double time. Get moving. Apollo accelerates towards the gap. His Range Rover shudders, banking on the grassy decline, but it's hardly any effort to pull himself around the tree and back onto the road. I also like not to kill the tension, but I do predict something bad's going to happen to Ace here and his Porsche. Yes, definitely. The noise in the distance grows louder. I can picture the vehicle careering towards the corner.

Just one turn away from having its windshield locked onto the convoy. Though I have no idea what it might be, I don't want to share road space with anything coming out of Jubilation. The rest of the convoy can hear the noise now. Bonnie and Clyde roll over to the gap and quickly but tentatively push themselves down onto the side. It's clearly harder than Rob and Apollo make it look. After a few moments, they travel across the bank, bringing themselves out on the other side. The vehicle turns a corner.

A white truck skids into view, its tires shrieking against the road, a metal beam sticks up behind the driver's compartment, and a hook swings with the momentum of the hard right turn. It's a tow truck, though something tells me it's not here to lend us assistance. Oh shit. All cars, once you're on the other side, drive. Wait around the left turn, I'll radio if they get by me. What about you guys? I'll come once everyone's across, now ain't the time for questions. Even Lilith, get over here now.

We still have time to get everyone across, but every passing second feels like a precious fleeting loss. Even Lilith are impatient for their turn, dropping onto the roadside and coming back up in a matter of seconds. The truck is gaining with incredible speed. I could just about make out the words Jubilation Recovery scrawled across the hood, though the letters are rapidly becoming easier to read.

Bluejay takes her time dismounting the road, in fact she's almost casual in how she maneuvers, whittling away at the remaining seconds we have. A swell of anger wells up inside of me as her wheels hit against the road. If she's calm about the situation then good for her, but I can see Ace drumming his fingers frenetically against the steering wheel, now stranded alone on the other side. I watch Bluejay follow the rest of the convoy to the next turn, displaying none of the urgency anyone else has shown. "Take it easy Ace, you ain't built for this."

Ace takes the corner, heeding Rob's plea for caution, but unwisely taking it almost head-on. His front wheel thuds over the edge of the bank, and the chassis hit the tarmac. The drop is just a little too steep for the Porsche's clearance. Rob's warning rings in my ears as Ace accelerates on three wheels, his car engaging in a slow turn with a little forward motion. Rob, what do I do? Rob!

The pickup truck maintains its speed and aligns itself with Ace's Porsche. Its thunderous velocity define all logic, all concern for Aces or their own safety. "Get out of the car, Ace! Get out of the damn car!" Ace struggles with the seatbelt, stress overpowering his motor functions. He unclasps it and throws the belt to the side. He grabs the door and pushes. It swings open slightly, then immediately slams against the bark of the pine tree. For a moment that lasts all too long, he shares with me a look of pleading terror.

The door is slammed shut, crumpling as the tow truck collides with the passenger side of Ace's car. Ace is launched against the door, his head smashing against the window. The ungodly racket of shrieking metal suddenly gives way to silence. Shit. Rob climbs into the back of the car. Rob, what can I do? Stay here.

I hear Rob rummaging among the luggage as the tow truck reverses out of Aces Porsche. The hood of the tow truck is completely and impossibly unharmed by the impact, as are its two occupants. They park the truck side onto us, the hook hanging a few meters away from the back of the Porsche, and the words Jubilation Recovery appear again, now accompanied by a slogan, Here to Help.

Let him go!

When I turn around, Rob is stepping out of the Wrangler. Apparently hidden within those neat stacks of luggage was a loaded hunting rifle. Rob raises the stock to his shoulder and repeats himself. Let. Him. Go. The mechanics pay no attention to Rob. They continue to frogmarch ace over to the truck, one of them making a quiet joke to the others as they go. They laugh.

An awful bang erupts beside me and a deep red hole bursts from one of the mechanic's torso, blood slowly seeping out of the wound. Inexplicably, the mechanic does nothing more than look down at his wound, up at Rob, and then back to the matter at hand. He hardly breaks stride as he continues towards the truck, bleeding freely onto the floor. I hear Rob set about reloading his rifle.

The mechanics arrive at the back of the truck with Ace. There are two short loops of thin chain hanging from the lowest of the hook's chain links. The mechanics feed Ace's arms through one loop each until he's hanging by the armpits in front of the hook itself. Rob fires another shot that goes nowhere. The mechanics grab a handful of Ace's hair, chatting as they do so, and lift Ace's head up until his lower jaw is just above the hook.

In that moment, despite everything, despite all my journalistic ideals, my pursuit of truth, my duty as an observer, I close my eyes. The visual disappears into darkness, but the sound doesn't. The impact and the sorrowful, obstructed groan that follows penetrates my bones, reverberating through my very being. Another gunshot and the sharp twang of a metallic ricochet. Ace's cries continue as the engine starts up and carries him off back to Jubilation.

I hear another gunshot. That sound like it hits nothing but air. As the engine and Ace's whimpers grow quieter, a few moments pass before one final measured gunshot echoes around the car. Rob, I won't say that for the sake of my Christianity, but Rob's upset. Yeah, yeah, yeah. He just says, damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Yeah, yeah, yeah. That gets it across, yeah.

The Wrangler's chassis clangs as Rob kicks aside with all his considerable might. I open my eyes to see a fallen pine tree, a ruined Porsche, and an otherwise empty road. When Rob climbs into the car, it's clear he's trying to regulate his breathing. An eternalized rage lighting him up, barely under his control. "We have to go!" Rob turns us around, pointing the Wrangler back down the road. The quiet of the car echoes in my ears, along with other noises I can't hope to forget.

i watch the fallen pine grow smaller in the rearview mirror overwhelmed by a feeling that i'm leaving more behind on this road than i can currently imagine bereft of conversation of logic of any semblance of comfort rob and i do the only thing we can we take the next left

Oh, man. Nice. This is great. Interesting. This is so good. Yeah, very, very interesting. Oh, gosh. I love the very quaint visual, almost like Dr. Seuss visual of this perfect, pristine town that I'm noticing. In my mind's eye, all the houses are these very vibrant pastel, heavily saturated, beautiful colors.

And they're all having these meals and stuff. And once again, you kind of get Rob in this situation where he's like, hey, we're just passing through. Don't mind them. These good people, they're just doing their thing. But as soon as she takes a look back, they're all looking back at her, which makes me once again think that he's been in a situation where he has...

a situation where he has uh maybe been in a situation that has led bad in jubilation and he's just like i in my opinion he's not telling everybody the full scope of things because i think he's trying to keep them level-headed that is one possibility the other possibility is that it's different every time you go in like sure you still see the hedgehog and stuff but things change and they've currently added a lot of variables right she listened to the radio

Uh, they, they got C4 off of that body off of the car wreck. I mean, they're adding more variables to it. So maybe they've changed something that has caused jubilation to change, or maybe it's, maybe it's like a coin flip. Maybe sometimes jubilation is fine. Other times it's not. Um, I do like Rob's dedication to like fighting them off kind of implies to me that he, he didn't want, he of course didn't want this to happen. Right. Um,

I kind of suspect that Blue Jay, her casual nature of it, maybe she knew someone had to die in jubilation or whatever. Maybe it's like a series of rules, right? Like if jubilation is active, someone has to die for them to be appeased or something like that, right?

Right. I don't know. But maybe there is a rule set for it. Maybe it's like a matter of chance if things are going... I say if Jubilation's active, like it's like a video game. If this NPC is on in the match, the character cannot use their light. Yeah, yeah. Oh, I think that you're right. There's just that little detail of Sherma saying...

Blue Jay was just so calm, which makes me think that she's like, I'm going to take my time so they can catch up and grab him and take him away. So then like, I'm not the one who's took away. You know what I mean? Yeah. Yeah.

Because it seems like regardless, those guys were coming. Because I feel like if it was something that they disrupted in the town, we would have known sooner. But instead, no, they're just driving out. And then everyone's like, oh, thank God we're out of this town. But nope, here they come. And also perfectly timed thing of like somebody waiting in the forest to disrupt this party to where they have to be slowed down. Yeah. Did Rob know about that? There's just a lot of things where I'm like wondering how much of this does Rob know? Which is also why he's like, bring a truck.

bring a vehicle that's, you know, you're going to be able to off-road in and stuff. It does make me wonder what his intentions are and how many times has he done this. It is interesting, too, I guess, just as, like, before we go into part four, which I just... This final thought I have is the...

Are these all people that have just played the game before or have they all just met on these forums and they're just all talking about it and they've met in person after having talked on these forums for so long? I think they're people who've just met before. Maybe we'll find out more detail because, like, clearly Apollo and Rob know each other. Yeah. Yeah. But I think for the most part, they're people who met on forums is my guess. Maybe they've played this game before. I definitely think Blue Jay has, if not the others. Yeah.

Yeah. I'm thinking that at least Blue Jay and Rob, in my opinion so far, is going to be that I think that they have met each other in person before, whereas maybe Rob has not indicated that much yet to them. Yeah. Yeah. We are on part four! Yeah!

Has anyone heard of the Left Right Game Part 4? So, I guess just as like a little recap, because so far, I mean, we're in it thick now. And pretty much Rob and Sherma are on the ride of their lives. Or pretty much Sherma's on the ride of her life, and she's just wondering what the hell's going on. I know that Rob, how do you feel about Rob?

Do you think his intentions are malicious or no? I don't think he's malicious at all. I think maybe he knows some details about what's coming that he either hasn't told people because they won't believe him or maybe it's too much for them to keep track of. I still kind of go with my idea that

more bad has happened in the game than he's willing to let on like with that crash car but i think his intentions are legitimate like i don't think he wants people to get hurt like i could be wrong but that part where ace was getting dragged away and he was firing the rifle off you know trying to stop him and stuff that doesn't sound like a guy who knows you can't kill the people here he wouldn't waste the ammo right it sounds like he was trying to help him

I think so, too. What's weird, though, is that he hit the guy, and the guy's guts were pouring out. That was wild. He just kept walking. So I'm wondering what kind of weird...

parallel universe they're in or something like that or what kind of dimension where that kind of shit can happen and people are like oh i got shot who cares also alice here this has to be a turning point for her because before she was like maybe it's real maybe it's not i don't know but after seeing that this would take like you know studio film level coordination to pull everything off uh yeah so she has to recognize it as real especially with when ace doesn't come back right

Yeah. Well, I mean, that's the thing is that this whole time she's been thinking it's a ruse. So, you know, there's no... I don't think there's any logical way to look at it like this is all planned out, like this is all fictitious. Yeah. So now she's in. She's, like, into play, right? So...

I'm excited to see where it goes from here. This is so fun. This is such a fun story. I could see this being a movie so easily. And I know that's kind of like, people kind of say that's a weak thing to give a story like, oh, I'd like it better if it was a different format. But I just mean, these are such compelling visuals, like the stuff being described. I'm here for it. This is awesome.

I know we were talking about it off camera, but every time I see Rob, I see Ron Swanson in my head. Rob is perfectly Ron Swanson in my head for some reason. He's a Ron Swanson. Or you said Matthew McConaughey. Yeah, I think like a Matthew McConaughey, but not like a... Like a true detective one or something? Yeah, like a true detective or what was that movie where he was like dying?

The one that won all the Oscars. Dallas Buyers Club. Yeah, so like a Dallas Buyers Club. Like a kind of old, you know, end of his days Matthew McConaughey. That's kind of where I imagine him. Yeah. Somewhere between those two I think is a good fit. I like, I really like Rob's character. I hope he doesn't turn out to be a bad guy. That being said, I think Blue Jay almost certainly knows more than she's letting on if Rob doesn't.

Yeah, that's what it feels like. She's treating all of this way too casually. Yeah, one way to find out. Far too casually. Far too casually, you're right. So let's go ahead and dive into part four. Part four. And once again, we open with an intro from the person who's compiling all of this in the first place.

Yeah, Michael Cera. That's who I picture as he is. Hi, guys. Hi, guys. Firstly, I want to apologize for not being about... Okay. Yeah.

Hi, guys. Firstly, I want to apologize for not being at my laptop for the past few days. I had to attend a wedding in Scotland for one of my uni friends. They booked it in midweek, and between you and me, I don't think it's going to last, which means not only have I neglected you guys, but I've also wasted money on a rental suit and a John Lewis tea set. It's funny how, like...

I know that obviously this is fictional, right? But the whole point of no sleep is, is it supposed to be realistic? And to have a guy go from describing the events of part three to being like, marriage is never last. Am I right? Anyway, let's get it. That's what I mean too. I'm like, I'm always just like, I feel like, are you not reading? Are you, are you not transcribing these logs? Do you see what you just posted? What if it's Apollo? Yeah.

What if the guy's probably like, rental suit of John Lewis Teason. Apollo Creed typing with the boxing gloves on. He had the giant boxing gloves. As always, thank you for your help in my ongoing attempt to find Alice. I'm now in full contact with the radio show she was working for, and they'll be sending over Rob's submission to the show as soon as they can.

I've also looked up every town named Jubilation and have contacted residents from each of them. None of them have the particular junction mentioned in the previous log, Sycamore Row and Acer Street. I even combed Google Maps to make sure. I'm not sure what town Alice passed through last February, but it doesn't seem to exist on public record. The guy who promised to retrace the route from the mirror shop came through and has sent me a few possible addresses for Robb.

He also mentioned looking into the game itself more. I'm not sure what he means by that, but I want to be clear. Please don't play this game on my behalf. I don't want that on my conscience. Okay, without further ado, here's the following log. Thanks again. So our next log is from February the 10th, 2017. Let's get into it. All right, second day. Second, pretty much. Pretty much, yeah. Second full day. So really three days if you count the, you know,

The excise, I think. Yeah. So right. Day three possible opening. I want to address you, the listener for a moment with an advance notice concerning the following episode. I'm sure it's not been lost on you that every installment of the series so far has played host to some strange unexplainable occurrence and span a great many miles of travel. It goes without saying this has been by design.

I've been summarizing the countless hours of uneventful meandering and taking extra care to document the strange phenomena we've encountered along the way. I wanted the story to be fast-moving, to have a real feel of progress with every chapter. In that sense of exploratory intrigue is why you're listening to this show. I completely understand. I'm certain it's a primary draw for almost all of you. The twists, the turns, the mysterious, strange encounters along an impossible road.

But if that is the case, I feel it's my duty to inform you that, apart from a few notable exceptions, there will be almost no ground covered in this segment, and the monsters we encounter will be all too human. Stress, divisiveness, discomfort, and, as one might imagine, grief. If you want to read the synopsis of this episode on the website and wait for the next part, then you'll be all caught up and I'm sure we'll be back on our way, heading once more into the Great Unknown.

But I feel it's important to give the aftermath of Aces Capture its own episode, in part due to the significance of the revelations that are unearthed in its wake, but also as a gesture of deference to the man we lost. This is the story of our second night on the road. Interesting. So that's Alice talking, correct?

Yeah, that's her. It seems like it's her preface prefacing the log. So all going back into it. That's interesting. I was thinking maybe we were reading like her notes of everything, but that implies that she's at a place further along that she makes note of what's happening. So does that imply Alice gets out at the end of all this?

I don't know if it necessarily gets out, but do you think that this could just be foreshadowing for something? Or as you could also see, she could be, because I don't think that even the dialogue is supposed to be extremely accurate if we're supposed to be under the impression that this is a journal entry. So it could be something where it's like her recounting this in the future and writing this after the fact versus in real time or at the end of days or something. That's true. Okay, good point.

As we make the left turn, the horrifying space behind us is quickly replaced by a quiet emptiness ahead. The Wrangler crawls, defeated, toward the waiting convoy. The remaining four cars are parked haphazardly, taking up more than half the road. Rob drifts to the far end of the tarmac, looking to overtake and resume formation. Both of his hands rest on the steering wheel, with eyes fixed on some distant point in space.

It's not hard to imagine that behind the focus and the quiet control, there's a man in turmoil. A man who can't bring himself to say anything, in fear of saying too much. "This is Bristol All Cause. We're heading back on the road. Get yourself in formation and make your way to those around you. We've got a while to drive before we start for the night." "Bristol, where's... Ferryman? Ferryman's here." "Where's Ace?" "Ace is... Ace didn't make it across." "What?"

What the fuck? Bristol, where is he? It would be simple to describe what had taken place, or at least summarize the bear's facts. What happened to Ace, where he is now, why he isn't coming back. But for some reason, I can't utter a word about what's transpired. Something about the event itself makes it impossible to retell, as if the requisite phrases have been locked behind glass. We need to get to a stopping point. It isn't safe to stay here.

Shortly after we turned the corner out of Sycamore Row, Rob implied that the rest of the day's drive would be uneventful. Had he waited just a few minutes longer, he would have been entirely correct. We're on the road for another four hours, both of us quietly attending to our own preoccupations as the forest gradually thins out. The landscape gives way to rolling cornfields that stretch out beyond the horizon on both sides. With the sun descends through an orange sky as we pull into a clearing.

Beside a wild grove of apple trees, Rob turns off the ignition and the two of us sit in silence. Rob's need to concentrate on driving had been a good excuse to stay quiet, a good excuse to not face each other. Now the wheels aren't turning, however, and the true reason for our mutual retinence is all too clear.

So they started out, just to be clear, they started out in the desert, and then it seems like they're moving towards the Midwest now. Like, we got into big trees and stuff. So I'm wondering if that's, like, Utah or Colorado, and now they're kind of getting into, like, Kansas, Midwest, like, Iowa territory or something like that. Yeah, because they're driving for, like, days at this point, right? So you can cover a lot of ground. Even if you broke it up in, like, eight-hour shifts, I mean, like, you know, two eight-hour days is still 16 hours worth of driving. I mean, it would be a lot.

Do you think he's dead? I don't know. Rob's response isn't reassuring, and I'm oddly grateful for that. There are no comforting words he can give me, and any attempt would have seemed horrifically insincere, a mockery of the situation's onerous gravity. Given the circumstances of Ace's capture, I'm not even sure which answer I want to hear. Lilith appears at my window, wrapping her knuckles against the glass with an aggressive impatience. I'd expect nothing less about now.

Everyone in the convoy has been made to follow a unilateral order. My order, without explanation. They've been traveling for hours, accompanied by the glaring absence of another human being. Looking in the winged mirror, I glimpse the rest of the convoy, standing by their cars, watching the Wrangler expectantly. Rob's hands still haven't left the wheel. With a sharp intake of breath, I push the door open and step out onto the grass. The ground is soft below me as I walk over to the group. There's recently been rain.

I begin to address the rough semicircle. It almost feels like one of Rob's briefings. What's happening, Bristol? Did Ace turn back? I meet Apollo's eyes. For the briefest of moments, I consider telling them all exactly that. Maybe it would save them from the slow, heavy ache that's currently weighing down my chest. Maybe it would just save me from a difficult conversation. Either way, I know I can't lie to them. They deserve the truth, however unpleasant. No, he didn't turn back.

They crippled his car. The low truck? Did he get out? The answer doesn't come easily. I've been pressed to say the words aloud and, in doing so, to fully acknowledge what happened. It feels like I'm being driven to a funeral. Like I'm being verbally marched towards an open casket. What happened to him? Bristol. He's dead, Eve. I hadn't heard Rob step out of the car when he reaches the group.

It's hard to hide my relief as he takes over proceedings addressing the group matter-of-factly. Now it really is like one of his briefings. Two guys in the tow truck coming out of Jubilation. I got him. I took him back with them to town. The way they retreat him, it won't last long. Oh, goodness. What? Rob, what are they going to do to him? I can't tell you. Nothing like this ever happened before. Well, we need to go back. That ain't happening.

We're not gonna fucking abandon him. Lilith. We're going back! No, we're not. Me and Rob can go. You know the place, right, Rob? The kid's dead, Apollo. But he was alive when we last saw him. That's right. So, what point did you decide he was dead? When I saw him being carried away with the tow hook sticking out of his mouth, damn it. Rob shouldn't have said that.

I understand. Fair point. Fair play. I mean, he is correct. I mean, come on now. Yeah, I mean, I think we can all kind of assume that the ghouls that are being shot with their stomachs hanging out of their body, I think that we can assume that... I don't think Ace is going to make it. I mean, like, if it was like Ace walking away, like, hey, I'm going to catch a ride with these guys if that's cool. You know, I'd get it. Yeah, you'd be like, well, what? Yeah, exactly. But...

But I think the circumstances. Him and his damn Porsche. Yeah, yeah. It's his fault, if you think about it. Yeah, I don't know. I don't know.

Rob shouldn't have said that. I understand his reasons, of course. He wants to convey an important truth, that nothing can be done, or could have been done, to save Ace. His ghastly choice of words does the job, but it also sends a ripple of disturbance through the crowd, planting in everyone's minds the gruesome image I've been trying all day to uproot. Bonnie covers her mouth in shock and sorrow. Eve turns noticeably pale, and even Lilith, who is intent on leading the questioning, is taken back. Did you see this, Bristol?

I nod solemnly to group bristles at my affirmation. "I saw enough. I had to close my eyes when it happened." Robb tried to save him and tell. Before I can finish my statement, my words are cut off by something truly unexpected. In spontaneous response to my words, a harsh outburst of mocking, sarcastic laughter rings out from within the convoy. One by one we turn towards its source until we all find ourselves staring at Bluejay.

Her unapologetic chuckling fills the silent night air. "Is something funny, Bluejay?" Bluejay tries to speak through her all-too-slowly waning laughter. "It's just... you call yourself a journalist. You closed your eyes! My god, there it is! There it is!" "I'm sorry? Do you close your eyes for magic tricks too? What the fuck, Bluejay? Come on, this isn't the time. Oh! The time is well fucking overdue! Seriously, are you all morons?"

The left-right game is a hoax! It's fake! Rob Guthrie's played you all like fucking children! Ace is fine. He's probably an actor! Like the hitchhiker who was an actor, and those townspeople too. I mean, come on! The group is taken aback by Bluejay's incredulous tirade. She's clearly been holding her tongue since day one. A reaction Ace has captured representing just one step too far. I saw Rob shoot one of those townspeople with a hunting rifle. I saw the wound. It was real!

It was blood-filled... It was a blood-filled squib. The rifle was probably loaded with blanks. You can buy both from any good theatrical retailer. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you people? Okay, firstly, I don't like your fucking tone. Secondly, have you noticed that we've been the only cars on the road for almost two days? And what about jubilation? Are you suggesting Rob hired out a whole town? That would be fucking impossible.

Oh, yeah, sure. That's impossible. But it's totally believable we're driving on a magic road. Maybe this is the highest budget scam I've ever seen. That's all it is. A scam. And Al Jazeera is giving him all the publicity he wants. I mean, these people are sheep, but you? You're a fucking sycophant. My mother used to tell me that you can't strike a person from the high road. Staring down the barrel of Blue Jay's darkly self-satisfied grin, I'm more than tempted to make the descent.

Okay, Blue Jay, fair enough. I'm not going to pretend that... I'm not going to pretend to know what's going on here. For all I know, you could be right. But why would Rob spend the production budget of a Hollywood film to trick a radio journalist and two vloggers? Trust me, our website does not get enough traffic for... Oh! Don't be so self-important. It's not you he's trying to fool. Blue Jay turns to Rob, fixing him a glare of pure, unadulterated triumph. Admit it, Rob. Admit it that it's all a fucking farce.

You knew who I was before I even got out of my car. Oh. Ooh. Rob's face looks like it's been carved from granite. The group looks to him for an answer, but he delivers his response directly to Blue Jay, his eyes locked with hers. It's true. I know who you are, Denise. The atmosphere changes, and for a moment, the night erupts into a foray of whispers. Rob's answer clearly means something to everyone but me. Denise? Denise?

Denise Carver? No, you serious? S-sorry, who's Denise Carver? She's the biggest killjoy in the hobby. Oh, fuck you, you fucking airhead. Denise here is a member of the Skeptics and Rationalist Institute of America. She likes to get herself invited on ghost hunting expeditions under a false name so she can debunk them publicly. You may have gathered she don't believe in the supernatural.

As condescending as her delivery may be, her words spark a sudden realization.

It's true that with an unspeakably high budget and a few deaf stooges, you could probably replicate most of what we'd seen on the road. Yet, without realizing it, I found myself agreeing with Rob's version of events, personally defending the left-right game's validity against its decriers. I'd set off on this journey much like BlueJay, as a staunch, confident skeptic. But somewhere between the tunnel and this moment, I'd become a believer. BlueJay notes my lack of protest and turns back to Rob.

I'm flattered you went into all this trouble. I didn't know my work was so offensive to you. I admire your work, Denise. Always have. That's why I brought you along. That is bullshit. Tell your friend Ace he can't act for shit. Blue Jay pulls a pack of Marlboros out of her coat, lighting up immediately, and goes to sit on the hood of her nearby car. Her demeanor clearly signals that her part in the conversation is over, though her words leave a bitter aftertaste for everyone involved.

To sympathize, it must be exhausting, spending two days with people whose opinions are diametrically opposed to your own, having to listen in silence while they corroborate their own seemingly preposterous views. Having said that, however, I'm incredibly glad she stopped talking. It reminds me of a time when we got on much better. The next question comes from Eve, her voice quivering. Can we die here, Rob? The quiet force of her words turns everyone's heads back towards Rob.

It's clear that others have been thinking the same thing, and they're looking to rob her and answer. It's possible. The road ain't ever killed no one before, not so long as everyone followed the rules. But you said in your emails it was dangerous. That's right. But you didn't feel like telling us that we could die out here? Rob turns to Lilith, clearly offended by her accusation. In the 1920s, John Evanrow killed 36 people and violated their bodies.

In one of your videos, you guys went to his home in Virginia looking for the man's ghost. Bonnie and Clyde once spent $500 to stay at the Iowa Murder House, a place that's supposed to possess its victims and force them to kill each other. If you all honestly believed in what you were chasing, you should be accepting death as an outcome every time you step out. We are looking for evidence of another world.

What we're doing here has the scientific significance of the moon landings and cultural significance of Columbus reaching the Americas and a whole lot of people died doing both. If you accepted the risk chasing down the ghost of a two-bit serial killer, you should be willing to accept the risk of this. Lilith looks like she's been scolded by a parent. There's a fire in her eyes as she observes Rob. Meeting his criticism was scorned. Oh, so it's Ace's fault?

He should have accepted the risk? He did accept the risk. Ace made his decisions. He saw the dangers of the road firsthand, and he kept on going. I told you this place could be dangerous, and maybe you didn't take it that seriously, but you are not going to treat me like I lured any of you here under false pretenses. We stand for a few moments in the uncomfortable void left by Rob's words. No one's quite sure where to look.

I think that, like, just to, like, I guess, just there's a lot of dialogue happening. Yeah. I think it feels extremely unrealistic that this would be a Hollywood fake production that spans, like, how many thousands of miles? Half the country. Yeah. Yeah, it's like, it feels like, which it could be a thing, too. Like, you could argue that Blue Jay has, like, has never wanted to...

like believe in this thing so their mind is set up but i think it's i wonder how much of it feels like a defense mechanism for seeing something so traumatic if people are just like oh like if you if it's like almost like an out-of-body experience and now you've been looking at it almost as if it isn't real in that way but it's just the logistics of being like we've been driving for two days like a look like and not only has he been driving did they buy the united states highway system and rent it out like what what do you mean

Well, I was going to say, too, if it was him driving, you can make me make an argument of like, oh, he's been driving for two days, but it's been like in a giant circle or something. But they've all been driving to know what lefts and rights they've been taking, et cetera. And also even like a four hour straight stretch of driving. Like, I don't know. Feels a bit feels a bit wonky. Well, this is Apollo. Apollo starts talking. Yeah. What do we do now, Rob? Do we turn around?

I'm gonna make that decision for you. If you want to split off and head back, I suggest you wait till morning and stagger your leave in time by an hour or so. I never seen nothing like what happened back there before, but this is the most people I ever played the game with. Maybe that's doing something. What do you mean by that? Well, it's the only thing that's changed. Truth is, this ain't our world. By all rights, we shouldn't be here.

Even when it's one car, the road always tries to discourage you. Maybe it's like bacteria in a vein. One or two might slip by unnoticed, but once it hits a certain point, it's like a... Like an immune system response. You think the road's pushing back on foreign objects? And the bigger the group... The more violent the response. It makes sense. Until Blue Jay laughs once more. Hearing her reaction, I reassess what I'm saying and I can't help but feel a little foolish at the idea.

Maybe. It's just a theory. I don't know. Rob collects himself, regaining his composure. Either way, you all have the morning to decide if you want to keep on the road. Bristol, if you want to go home, you've got to find someone to take you. I ain't ready to head back yet. He turns away from the group and marches to the Wrangler. I don't see him again for the rest of the evening, and I have no intention of bothering him.

Can I charge my phone in your car? This changes my mind on Rob a little bit. Like...

Yes, I understand. Like he told them it's dangerous in there. That's different from people actively trying to kill you. Right. Like I would describe rock climbing as dangerous. That doesn't mean you're actively dodging like killers as you go climbing. Yeah. So I feel like there is a little bit of his obsession with this myth getting in the way.

And of course, like the revelation of who Blue Jay is changes my idea that she knows what's going on because she's she's just as dumb as everyone else. She's just a skeptic and like said in her ways about it. So, yeah, this changes my mind on Rob a little bit. I think he's I think there's going to be points in the story where he lets the evil that's happening get to him, you know?

or sorry not get to him like he's gonna let the evil that's happening fall to the wayside because he wants to get to the end or like get to you know whatever his objective is in here even if it puts people's lives at risk I mean that's kind of what he's already done

Yeah, in a way he's already done that. He's been being very ambiguous even by the end here saying Bristol, I'm not ready to go home yet. You're going to have to find someone else. So it does seem like he has some kind of plan that he's just not saying. Because pretty much there's no real winning of the game either is one thing. Like...

If you turn around, all you can do is keep going in this universe and, like, just kind of see where you end up. Yeah. And I think that, in my opinion, he's been to these parts before. He's been this far in before, but I think he's trying to reach someplace that he hasn't been yet. I think so, yeah. Feels very Lovecraftian. Kind of feels like...

I forgot what Lovecraft's story it was, but it was the one where the guy's in the submarine and he sees like the, like this palace underwater. It's like a German submariner guy. Oh, yeah. Yeah. I know the one you're talking about. I forget the name of it, but I remember. It's given me those kind of vibes of the thing of like something's calling to him to do this thing. I just don't think he's revealed his whole hand yet. I still don't think that I don't.

I think that he is holding stuff in, but I don't know how malicious he is because I wonder how much of this is him experiencing this stuff for the first time. Even though he is pretty calm and collected. Like, I feel like if Ace was... Like...

You would think that a person would be more upset about somebody's death if it was the first time. You know, like, more ecstatic. Or, not ecstatic, but more like... Yeah. Like, oh, this has never happened before. Like, it's not supposed to happen like this or something. I don't believe him that no one's ever died before. I think he knows more than he's letting on.

And also, like, his reaction kind of says a lot where he's like, Ace knew the consequences or, like, Ace knew the risk or whatever. It's very calculating regarding someone's death. It feels like it. Again, I don't think he's outright evil. I just think he's going to let his obsession get the better of him. Yeah. No, I think that the only thing that's evil is going to be the selfish wants he has for this game. Yeah. Yeah. I think so. Yeah. All right. Well, on that note, continuing.

The group has very little to say for the rest of the night. A deep solemn... Solemn... Solemnity? Sure. I hate the word solemn, dude. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Yeah. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solemnity. Solem

With words we don't understand, with words we don't understand or they're hard to say, let's just fucking say Bazinga or Apple. A deep Bazinga hangs in the air. A deep... A Sheldon Cooper appears. He's just like... Sheldon Cooper's just like in the shadows by the tree. Hello, Rob. Bazinga. Dampening any semblance of good cheer like wet leaves on a dwindling fire. No one offers any conversation. Apollo's reservoir of quips has run dry.

I already have questions of my own. About an hour after Rob's departure, bidding farewell to the rest of the group, I walk over to Lilith and Eve's car.

My bag is resting on the front seat, a black wire leading inside from the charging port. I've decided not to tell the pair that I've been charging the detonator for a military-grade explosive less than 10 meters away from them. Good God. Perhaps it will come out during broadcast. If you're listening to this, sorry girls. I pick up my bag and, checking that no one's looking, make a beeline for the apple grove.

I march through the small wood, the air growing still, the sounds of the convoy quickly fading behind me. In the late evening darkness, with the moon shrouded by a legion of crooked trees, I'm puzzled that I'm not more afraid. I've seen what happens on this road, and as I pass through the grove and into the neighboring field, intentionally isolating myself from the rest of the group, I'm quite aware that help won't be coming for me.

Even so, as the corn rises up in every direction around me, I find myself almost incapable of fear. The day's events have drained me of emotion, and I'm now with everything else pulled away... I'm... uh... yes, and I'm now with everything else pulled away... Okay, sorry, I don't know why I thought I read that wrong. I'm left with only one driving directive, an overpowering urge to figure this road out, regardless of what that entails.

Judging the distance I've traveled to be acceptably out of range from the convoy, I take the block of C4 out of my bag and place it on the ground. Gritting my teeth, my body cringing with self-inflicted dread, I press the power button on the Nokia and wait for something to happen. My worries of instant disintegration are allayed slightly as the grainy image of two outstretched hands comes into view, swiftly replaced by a menu screened.

I work fast. The words on the brown paper package constantly reminded me of what I'm putting at risk with every passing second. Firstly, I type my number. I type my number, own number. Okay, I think they're trying to say I type my own number into the phone, assuming or at least hoping that the mechanism isn't activated by outgoing calls. A few seconds later, my cell phone rings, giving me the Nokia's number.

Checking the call logs, I find a second, different number, which seems to have made a call to the phone three times in quick succession. If I were a betting woman, which I sometimes am, I'd suggest that this number belongs to whoever built the bomb. The call is representing an attempt to test the trigger prior to its implementation. If I'm right, this should be the personal number of whoever was driving that crashed car. My third discovery is a little bit more puzzling.

Ooh, interesting. Mm-hmm. Yeah.

that the C4 in the truck had belonged to him. All this time I thought Rob may have been responsible for something terrible, but what if he was run off the road himself? If that's the case, it leads to an entirely new question: who was responsible for his crash? As I begin to think it over, the air explodes around me. I'm jolted out of my examination by a powerful echoing voice which reverberates the very air. The corn is thrown into a frenzy as the noise echoes from every direction as if spoken by the air itself.

I've watched you questioning. Without a second's hesitation, I turn off the Nakia and throw the block into my bag. I jump to my feet and scan the cornfield for whoever spoke the words. Packing away towards the convoy. Oh, backing away towards the convoy. Suddenly, realizing how far I am from my friends, I break into a run, my boots pounding the dirt as I flee back to the woods. Less than a minute later, I burst out through the trees, my bag swinging with the weight of the block. Everyone's in their cars, seemingly fast asleep.

I'm starting to think they're on to something. With no one to talk to and a long day ahead of me, I suppose there's no further recourse but to catch my breath, write up my immediate thoughts, and then finally get some much-needed rest. I feel a dull pressure behind my eyes as I step toward the Wrangler. Quietly opening the back door next to my sleeping area, I carefully hide the block under my luggage. Then, silently closing the door again, I wander around to the passenger side where the notes are waiting to be typed.

I reached out and grabbed the handle. Gripping it tightly, I don't open the door. In fact, after a moment, staring through the glass, I let go. The pressure behind my eyes gives way, and before I know it, I've slid down to the damp ground. My back against the cool, hard metal of the door. A whine catches in my throat as ugly tears stream down my cheeks. My breath shudders as I inhale, and my attempt to breathe out plays to the world as a quiet, declining sob.

The tears take me by surprise, but I don't wipe them away. In a bittersweet way, they're welcome. Necessary, even. They carry with them a familiar sense of heart-rending release. By the time they've run dry, I feel like I might just be able to move on from the events of the day. The sounds in my head are just a little quieter now I've paid them their due. Are you okay, honey? I'm picking myself up when I see Bonnie walking carefully over to the Wrangler. I brush myself off, a little embarrassed at being caught.

I didn't know you were awake. I'm a light sleeper, and Martin, well, Clyde, snores. Do you need someone to talk to? I think I just need to sleep. Thanks, Bonnie. My name's Linda, if you're wondering. Alice. That's a beautiful name. Well, Alice, I know I don't talk much, but I know how to listen, if you ever want me to. For the first time since the pine fell, I find myself smiling. It's a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. Thank you, Linda. I might take you up on that. Have a good night.

You have a good night too. Bonnie starts to walk back to the car before pausing and turning around. One last piece of comfort to offer. And remember, everything will be alright once we get to Wittery Bay. Hmm.

wintery wintery bay one word she means by that did she mention that earlier weren't they like yeah i'm i'm wondering though i feel like she said something about that briefly but has rob said anything good about wintery bay too i don't think he's mentioned i think it was just that part where they're like oh it kind of reminded me of wintery bay oh yeah weird huh anyway i frowned a little unsure what bonnie means she smiles back blankly then resumes the path back to her car

She's been to that place. Yeah. She smiles back blankly like a good guy. A blank smile? That's a horrifying phrase. It'll all be fine once we get to wintery bay. Yes. Perfect wintery bay.

You want to explain on that further? Good night. Clyde snores. Yeah, she like unzips her tent and you just hear like... Like a guy like dying of snoring in there. Like a giant CPAP machine sound. They have a CPAP in the car. Yeah, from a generator. Ah, wintery bay, here we come.

Just the weirdest people you've ever met. Yeah. I know I don't talk much, but I'm going to scare the shit out of you immediately. Wintery Bay. With Wintery Bay. That's funny. That's a funny phrase to say to people out of context. It will be fine when we get to Wintery Bay and just like, don't elaborate. Excuse me? Like you're in the line at like a grocery store. You know what I mean? They're like, what?

Oh, nothing. See you there. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. Don't even worry your little head. Worrying makes it hungry. What? Wintry Bay. Runs off. Says it one more time. That's pretty good. Okay. Anyway. She smiles blankly, then resumes the path back to her car. She's mentioned that place before. Upon leaving Jubilation, what seemed like a moment of idle reminiscence.

How she mentioned it just doesn't seem like reminiscence at all. After everything that's gone on, all the suspicion I've been directing at Rob, all my worry for Ace, is something the matter with Bonnie? Perhaps I'm misunderstanding. Perhaps Bonnie misspoke. But all the same, the brief comfort her words afforded me has already faded away, leaving a familiar feeling of confusion and paranoia in its place. I let myself into the passenger side, typing up a few pressing notes and then climbed through onto the air mattress.

Sleep doesn't come easily. I close my eyes to try to convince myself that tomorrow will be better than this harrowing day. And every time I make that particular argument, a voice in my head responds, that may depend on which way you turn.

Oh, that's a fun little line to end it. You know what's interesting about the way of ending that with Bonnie is that she never spoke up during that altercation about whether it was fake or not. Kind of almost makes it seem like, especially with her blank stare, it almost puts me under the impression that maybe she is one of these entities that exist in this other dimension or something like that. Yeah, I'm immediately suspicious of her, you know?

Yeah. I'd say let's just keep rolling right into part five. Yeah. Yeah. All right. Another intro from the guy compiling this. Hi, guys. It's been a long week, but I finally got to my computer to post the next log. I've been working overtime to afford both London rent and Christmas presents. Hasn't been fun. Anyway, I can't say much more since the logs one of the longer ones. I'll try and get the next one up a little sooner. Thanks for all your help. Well, thanks for that guy. I don't care about. All right. Anyway, it was a bit brief, doesn't it? Yeah. Yeah.

Anyway, yeah, that was crazy. You know, people died and all that. I'll enter the next one. Do you think that there's anything, like, I guess just, we're at the halfway point of the story, right? In other pieces that we've read, usually the person posting the stuff is just as confused or is kind of, like, a little more driven to understand what was going on after cryptic messages. Yet...

Our narrator here is just kind of like, hey, sorry I was late. Here you go. It almost feels like a social media post from the author itself. Just being like, hey, it took me a little longer to write this one. But I just don't think that it would be that unintentional to have him be this uninterested. Maybe that's going to make itself known as we go on. Maybe at all times. Oh, I'm sure. I'm sure. Yeah. All right. So the next part, February 11th, 2017.

The next morning, everything's the same. It's strange. We're usually so blind to the quiet consistency in our everyday lives, only really taking notice once something changes. Yet, as I stir a spiral of honey into my oatmeal and glance around the group, it's the noticeable lack of change that truly stands out.

Since the previous evening, the atmosphere surrounding the convoy and the demeanor of each member doesn't seem to have altered in the slightest. The night has fallen short in its role as a Grand Meridian, failing to partition the past and future, and bringing with it neither perspective nor closure. It's as if yesterday has spilled, like a toppled brush pot, into the next morning, coloring everything with the same temperaments, fear, and divisions.

Lilith and Eve sit facing each other. That's a beautiful, beautiful line, by the way. I don't know if you... Oh, yeah. That was a well-done little paragraph. It's fallen short in its role, failing to partition the past and future. It's spilled coloring with the temperaments, fears, and divisions. Yeah, well done. I like it.

Apollo, Bonnie, and Clyde are across from me. Apollo is making conversation, attempting to revive his usual good humor.

Bonnie and Clyde help him out, laughing at his jokes and smiling along with his stories. Blue Jay hasn't stepped out of her car all morning, eating her own rations and maintaining a welcome distance from the rest of the group. Her eyes meet mine as I look her way, and I'm treated to a sharp, sardonic dismissal. And Rob? Rob is attempting to the practicalities of the road, serving breakfast, then topping up the Wrangler from one of the hulking jerry cans. It's clear the routine is comforting to him.

I can easily imagine this is how he deals with the great many problems. Compartmentalizing. Recasting himself as a blunt instrument engaged in a set of necessary processes. He's made himself too busy for grief, and will likely remain so until the feeling fades. As coping mechanisms go, it isn't remotely healthy. I should know. I'm doing pretty much the exact same thing. Clyde, could I get a few words? Clyde looks up from his food, a little surprised. You want me? Yeah, sure.

If that's not too much trouble... Oh, no, no, no. No trouble at all. You want to do it now, or I'm not too hungry? No, me neither. That'd be great, thank you. Would you mind if we moved away from the stove? Clyde nods keenly, putting my bowl to one side. I take Clyde to the edge of the apple grove. Nobody looks after us. How are you holding up, Bristol? Getting there. How about you? I'm, uh... Yeah, I'm getting by. So can I ask, why did you choose Barney and Clyde as your call signs? Huh.

Well, it came pretty easy. We used to play outlaws when we were kids. One time, Bonnie stuck up a bank. Really? Well, no, it was more of an ice cream parlor, but Bonnie was pretending it was a bank. And then she ran in, holding her hand like a gun, told Mrs. Guilford it was a stick-up. Wow, that doesn't seem like a... Oh, no, she was a child, but... Always... always living in a story. Anyway, we got free Sundays and a new nickname in town after that.

When Rob told us about the call signs, it was the first thing we thought of. It's a good choice. I pause, letting the previous subject fade before launching into the next one. All things considered, this may be the last time me and Clyde are on such casual speaking terms. Bonnie told me she talked to the hitchhiker. Clyde... Wait, did Bonnie say that? Well, I don't know. I don't think so. I think, like, uh... I think the only thing she said is that, uh... Just the... The weird, uh...

thing she said about the town or whatever i'm wondering if she's lying or like trying to get something out yeah okay clyde's disposition shifts their sudden alertness that wasn't there before rushing to the fore in immediate response to my words in the following silence at the center of his wide-eyed stare an educated guest suddenly becomes much more when did she tell you i'm sorry clyde she didn't you just did

uh she got him alice shirma you bitch she got him she got what a ruse that was a ruse that was mean that was very mean but it worked i can almost see the stone fall in clyde's throat the deep burning embarrassment and the hurt that comes from being deceived from a close secret you held getting out into the world i don't feel exceptional either

Lying to Clyde, bringing him away from Bonnie under the guise of an interview, beyond the personal abhorrence, it also flies in the face of everything I've tried to be as a journalist. Clyde can't bring himself to talk, so I press forward. "I think it might be best if you call Bonnie over here." Nodding vaguely, Clyde wordlessly shuffles back to Bonnie, whispering in her ear. She puts a hand on his shoulder and helps herself up. Whatever he's told her, she doesn't seem angry as she joins us beneath the shade of the apple trees.

I didn't want to cause any trouble. And Clyde's been looking forward to this trip for so long, I didn't want us to turn back. I'm sorry. What happened, Bonnie? I just said two words. I wasn't talking to him. I was doing what Rob said, but then he... I just said, bless you. That's all it was. That's it? Well, I... He thanked me, and he was just so easy to talk to, and I thought, well, I've already talked to him. What will a few more words do? She hardly said anything else. What about him?

Did he say anything? Bonnie starts to smile the same way she did last night. A dreamy, enthused expression glowing with reminiscent joy. Hmm. He told me about this wonderful place. Wasn't it wonderful, Martin? Bonnie, just a few houses by the sea. But he made it sound so nice. Bonnie, please. What's wrong? I can talk about it, right?

When I look back to Clyde, his lips are firmly pressed together, his facial muscles tighten. He's holding something back, but what slips through betrays a poignant dismay. It's all you talk about, Bonnie. You mentioned it a few times after, and since jubilation, you ain't stopped. Are you guys talking about Wintory Bay? Clyde grimaces, and Bonnie grins when they hear the name. Bonnie, are we heading there? The Hitchhiker said it's on our way. I'm so looking forward to seeing it.

I can't say I feel the same, and it's safe to say Clyde agrees with me. Before now, I'd only heard Bonnie mention Wintery Bay on two occasions, but it sounds like she's talked about it a whole lot more. I sympathize with Clyde for what he's had to deal with. However, the gross irresponsibility of his actions aren't lost on me either. Does Rob know? I didn't want to... You didn't want to trouble him? Or you just didn't know... Or did you just not want him to turn... Oh my god. Or did he just not want him to turn you around?

I'm alright, really. Well, either way, you need to tell Rob before we hit the road. Clyde shuffles uncomfortably. I'm not going to do it for you, but too much has happened on this trip already. Aces, this place is dangerous, okay? There's no place for lies anymore. I hope that Clyde doesn't see the irony, given that I've roundly deceived him in the past five minutes. He nods, takes Bonnie's hand, and walks slowly towards the wrangler.

Rob is loading the last of the fold-up chairs into the back of the car. The conversation doesn't last long, but by the end of it, Rob rests his hand on Bonnie's shoulder and sends them on their way. He doesn't look mad. Perhaps he just has other things on his mind.

It seems like Bonnie is kind of, like, almost under a spell or something then. Like, having talked to him has led her to be, like, it seems like she's almost infected with this kind of, like, you know what's kind of weird is the same kind of optimism she has about Weatherly Bay is the same kind of, like, cheery optimism and stuff that the Hitchhiker even had, too. So I'm wondering if that kind of, like, rubbed off on her or something.

I think, uh, I also think Alice is a pretty smart character because she heard Bonnie mentioned something weird last night and then correctly assumed that it was something to do with the hitchhiker. Yeah. It's like the hitchhiker was giving them a vision of this weathery Bay, which I'm very scared for whenever that shows up. I think also how much of it too, does she see her smile as the same smile that the hitchhiker gave her in the mirror and stuff like that? Yeah. You know what I mean? It probably felt reminiscent in that way. Hmm.

That's the second thing I've done today that's inherently non-journalistic. I was supposed to be a fly on the wall for this story, a passenger, recording events with objective detachment with my own influence seeping into proceedings. In many ways, I wish I still was, but the stakes are higher now. And though secrets make for good editorial, they're also potentially damaging to the safety of the group. Following the incident with Ace, I'm slightly less concerned with an unbiased story than I am getting home to tell it.

Rob looks like he's about to make his morning address. The group wanders over, some more reluctantly than others, and gathers around the Wrangler. First things first, I want to say that, well, tempers got a little heated last night, and that I'm sorry for my part in all that. I want to thank you for coming with me this far, and if you want to turn back, well, that's just fine. The group stays quiet.

If you're heading back, I'd say if you travel one by one, be sure to stay on the radios, retrace the route, and follow all the rules that applied when you were getting here. Now, can I get a show of hands who's wanting to keep going on the road? Can we take a second, too, just to be like...

It's kind of crazy that to safely get back, you have to remember the exact route that you took. Yeah. Every turn. So the longer you go on this trip, too, the harder that's going to be. Like, I mean, even already through that kind of thing, especially even driving through the neighborhoods of going, like, you know, left, right, left, right, all those times. You have to do that, I'm pretty sure, accurately on your way back. You can't just, like, kind of go back in a straight line. You can't guess, yeah, because...

He hasn't said directly, but he implies if you don't take the turns the correct way, you never get out. Yeah. Well, it seems like they probably, yeah. Like, I think that you'll probably just be locked in there or something. Yeah. You'll be kind of lost, especially if you break the code. You know what I mean? Yeah, yeah. You go in a line. Which I guess you could remember just, even if you don't remember the exact route, you could think, okay, I just went left, right, left, so now I'll go right, left, right. And you could just do that the whole way back.

Probably easier said than done, I'd imagine. But easier said than done, especially because you said there's places where the road tries to trick you, right? Like, tries to hide turns from you and stuff like that. So, I don't want to do it. No. What about you? Are you dipping at this point? I'm, bro, I'm dipping with, like, probably, like, a hitchhiker. Okay, correct. I would, too. But let's say you're here right now. You're this far in, right? You got to drive back through Jubilation to get out, right? Yeah.

Yeah, I think with how big of a threat was that jubilation, I think that it would be hard to feel like I'm going to go back on my own. Especially because that's the thing now is you have the comfort of a group. Yeah. Of like, okay, well, if something happens to me, there's this. Granted, Ace is a different exception just because his car. But I just mean like in terms of like camping and stuff. Because you'd have to also assume that whenever you drive back, you're also going to have to stop.

at a certain point and camp out by yourself yeah and all this kind of stuff there's just too much i i would feel more comfortable in the group yeah i think so i agree with you um i observed my compatriots closely the definites will be bonnie and clyde who have already implied that they want to continue and also blue jay who feels she has nothing to worry about from the road polo's in the wind and lilith and eve are probably a split vote all in all this could be the moment our convoy splits in half

Blue Jay throws her hand up lazily. Bonnie and Clyde predictably raise theirs. Apollo raises his a few moments later. Hey, I've come this far. That leaves Lilith and Eve. After sharing a brief glance with her friend, Lilith raises her hand and Eve follows suit, albeit with an air of trepidation. I'm surprised that no one's turning back. After everything that happened yesterday, but it's clear everyone has their own reasons. I'm just glad I don't have to say goodbye to anyone. I said about trying to divide...

Divide? Oh, divide, I think. Everyone's motives for continuing on the road, but I quickly stop when I realize everyone's looking at me. "Oh, sorry. Well, I'm in. I'm going. That way." I gesture to the road ahead and raise my hand, redundantly. "Well, okay. I guess that's everyone, then. Got a fair way to travel today, but there ain't much to see. Just follow the rules and take things as they come, I guess."

Aren't jeeps supposed to have poor fuel economy? That ain't the best, that's why I always bring gas along.

It's just... the fuel gauge has hardly moved since we left this morning. You noticed that, huh? I was wondering if you were gonna. Why? What have you done to it? Nothing. It's the road. Makes fuel burn slower. Seriously? Ain't just that either. You finish your food this morning? No. Why? Hardly anyone did. Except Apollo. More you go, less you need to keep going. Okay... Wait, you said the road pushes against you? Yep.

Yep. Sounds like life to me. Reasons to stop, reasons to keep going.

That's interesting. So the deeper they go in, pretty much the more the road incentivizes you to keep going. It's like the laws of physics change, you know? Things need less energy. But to me, it's almost like a spider's web. Like, you're tempted to go further, right? Because of the danger that you come across.

you're getting closer to some kind of thing, whether that be Weatherly Bay or wherever. It feels like it's really wanting you to, because at this point, too, it almost makes it want to seem like you don't even need to stop to sleep or whatever. You can just keep driving. Yeah, I don't think the road has good intentions for saving you gas mileage. No, yeah, yeah. Yeah, she's like, this is amazing. Oh, it's so friendly. Yeah, yeah. I suppose that makes sense.

Despite his well-documented obsession with the secrets of the road, Rob seems to have a strangely laissez-faire attitude to its internal logic. It's like the road doesn't need to make perfect sense to him, or at least he doesn't expect it to yet. As the fresh rural air drifts in through the windows, I lose myself in the hypnotic endlessness of the passing fields.

I wonder how many eyes have seen these vistas. I wonder where we are. Not geographically, but in a grander sense. Are we still in the world as I know it? Are we beyond it? Below it? Or have we just slipped through the cracks into some intermediate domain? Rob slows the car down to a crawl, a precaution he takes before most corners. My eyes wander gently back into the Wrangler, finally resting on the rearview. There's something behind us.

A humanoid figure, shrouded in the soft focus of considerable distance. It staggers quickly toward the convoy, unsure on its own feet. Oh boy. No. Oh boy. Oh no. Rob, what is that? Rob follows my gaze to the rearview mirror. His brow furrows. Something new. Oh shit. All these new things with Rob. Yeah. You say like all these news though. It may be, it may be like you bring too many people in at once is what's causing it. Who knows? Who knows?

Well, I like the analogy of the, uh, I like the analogy of like basically like an infection going into your vein or something like that. And like the more cells that are used to like a bigger immune response, right? Exactly. Yeah. Rob grabs the receiver before he can make an announcement. The speaker's splutters with static followed by Eve's frantic voice. Guys, there's something behind us guys. Something coming after us. Blue Jay. Can you see it?

Bluejay doesn't answer. I doubt she considers it worth her time. A squealing panic rings out over the radio as Eve calls again. Is it from Jubilation? Guys? Guys? Stay calm, everyone. Let's pick up the pace a little. Rob lets his foot rest heavier on the gas. The Wrangler gently accelerates with the rest of the convoy eagerly matching our speed. Who is that, Rob? I ain't so sure, but we got a turn coming up. Let's just get ourselves off the road, see if he follows.

The figure continues to stumble towards us, its arms hanging crookedly in the air, and as it comes into sharper focus, I can just make out that there's something wrong with its face. "Guys, speed up, please! Please!" "Calm down. It's coming for us!" I can sympathize with Eve's panic. I've had the luxury of traveling at the head of the convoy. I was the first to cross when that godforsaken pine was dropped across the road. Eve is now second to last, relying on three other cars to make their escape before she can follow.

Ace had to wait for the rest of us, and it cost him everything. Now, even Lilith are one car closer to being where he was. It's face. Oh my god. Oh my god, guys, please. Jesus, shut up. Hey, that is not helping. Rob, it's moving pretty fast. We... We stay the course. It ain't caught up just yet. Oh god. Oh god, oh god.

Rob's warnings are cut short by the screeching of tires. Eve swerves out of the convoy's neat, single-file line and onto the empty stretch of road beside us. The car accelerates past Bonnie and Clyde, past Apollo. I get a brief glimpse of Eve and Lilith as our windows align. Lilith is yelling at Eve, trying to get her to calm down. Eve is screaming into the air, the puppet of her own frenetic terror.

The car shoots past us and down the long road ahead. Rob swears and picks up the radio. The figure continues to lurch towards us. "Ferryman to Eve and Lilith! Stop the car right now!" "Eve, slow down!" "Eve, dammit, you're gonna-" I stare through the windshield as the car stops. Not a slow, grinding deceleration, but an unequivocal, immediate halt. Their bodies are thrown forwards against a safety glass as the car becomes utterly motionless. "Rob, what's happening?"

I told him to be careful. What? What's... I no longer need an answer. I realize that's right in front of me, etched into the side of the road. A brief gap in the endless rows of golden corn, only a little wider than the Wrangler itself. A dirt track that leads off to the left, about 10 meters ahead of us. About 15 meters behind Lilith and Eve. I now understand why Rob was being so careful, why Eve should have been as well. They've missed the next turn.

Oh, man. You hit like an invisible wall. Yeah, if you don't make the right thing, it seems like you. Oh, that's wild. Okay. Ferryman to all cars. I found the turn. Let's make it quick. Even Lilith, you stay in the car. I'm coming back to get you both. Rob flicks on his turn signal, preparing the group for the sharp left corner and slams his foot on the accelerator. Lilith and Eve disappear behind a wall of corn as we pull down the dirt track. Rob keeps driving until enough space is left for the rest of the group.

Once they're all safely pulled in, Rob climbs into the back of the car, grabs his rifle, and jumps out onto the path. I quickly climb out and follow behind him. When we arrive on the main road, the figure has covered a considerable distance, finally drawing near enough for me to see what's wrong with its face. At a certain point, midway across the crown of the head, running in a straight line down past the cheeks and under the jaw, the head simply stops.

it's like the foremost section of his skull has been sliced cleanly off and has been inwards his entire face concave and shrouded completely in a deep shadow a ghastly organic hood that seems deeper than physics should allow

This isn't all that's wrong with the picture, however. The man's outstretched arms are bent in several places. Dark purple continuous blossom at every unnatural joint as if his arms had been broken multiple times. His leg is also bent to one side and the reason for the irregular walk that still carries him towards us. Rob looks shaken as he raises the rifle to his shoulder, bidding the figure turn around.

The man ignores Rob's demands, continuing its march. Even when a bullet hits it square in the chest, the figure hardly slows down. We're forced to jump out of the way as it continues down the road, even Lilith cowering in their locked car as it approaches. Fear shifts into confusion as the creature passes them by and continues down the road as if it doesn't even know we're here. Rob breathes a sigh of relief, lowers the gun, and runs back to the rest of the convoy.

The moment he leaves, my mind notes something peculiar. It's an utterly bizarre observation, especially considering the many otherworldly facets of the retreating creature. There's something familiar about it. Specifically, its fashion sense. The shirt, the dirt-covered jeans, they aren't dissimilar from the ones that I found in the brown leather duffel bag resting atop the block of C4.

Reaching into my pocket, pulling out my phone, I scroll through my list of contacts. As the man heaves himself down the road, I call the second number I discovered last night, the one in the Nokia's received call list, the number that likely belonged to whoever created the bomb and whoever was driving the car that day. After a few moments, a ringtone disrupts the creature's silent walk. I end the call, realizing how reckless I've been and praying that the strange figure doesn't see my action as an excuse to turn around. I'm lucky this time, at least.

The dial tone cuts out and the figure continues to stumble its way toward the horizon. The next thing I hear is a scream. Scanning for its source, I see Eve, her door open with one foot out of the car. She's frantically pulling out her leg, seemingly unable to lift it from the tarmac. "Eve, what's going on?" With shaking fingers, Eve clumsily unties her shoelace and lifts her leg back into the car.

Eve- ooh, Eve watches as the dark tarmac slowly sucks the boot down, enveloping the heel and dragging it beneath the surface.

They ain't pulled back yet!

As soon as he asks the question, he sees the sight before him. Only the neck of Eve's boot remains above the ground, sinking ever further into the tarmac. The road gradually but voraciously churns at the car tires, consuming the rubber and swallowing the lowest edge of the wheel cover. In the midst of such an impossible sight, all I can say to Rob is, They're trying. Lilith and Eve hit the gas hard. The engine growls at the road as it furiously attempts to reverse, the undercarriage creaking and groaning from the sheer maniacal strain.

The wheels themselves, however, don't rotate an inch. The tires belong to the road now, taken by the unknowable forces that continue to drag them into the earth. The engine chokes, defeated, and I can see Eve screaming into her fist as the roadway calmly continues its work. Dammit, we can't reach him! Tell him to get on top of the car! What the? What's happening, Rob? Bristol, tell him to get on the roof!

Rob marches off to the Wrangler. The rest of the convoy gather on the road, just in line with the left turn, where we assume it's safe to stand. Everyone, saving for Bluejay, looks on in anxious silence. "Eve, Lilith, I need you to get on top of the car, okay guys?" "We're sinking! Oh fuck, oh fuck we're-" "Eve, I'm trying to help you. Rob's working on something, but you need to climb onto the roof of the car. If you don't think it- don't think about anything else, open the door, wind down your window, and use it as a foothold."

Eve is still deaf with worry. Lilith doesn't hesitate. She places one hand on the upper rim of her open door, one foot on the base of the open window, and her free hand palmed down on the car's roof. The door rocks as it hinges as she puts her weight on it. In one strong motion, she pushes herself backwards until she's sitting atop the car. The tarmac has swallowed its way to the car's lower chassis. Eve stares, transfixed by the road as it pulls her ever closer towards it. Sarah, look at me!

Lilith is crouching on the car's roof, her hand reaching down to Eve. Her friend's voice seems to be the only thing that can break Eve's fearful commune with the waiting abyss. She turns around, Lilith's hand a few inches from her face. Get up here! Her eyes brimming with tears, fought back by rapid, shallow breaths, Eve grabs Lilith's hand. Lilith gets a solid handhold around the lip of her own doorway and heaves Eve up and onto the roof of the car. Eve shrieks a little unkindly.

Eve shrieks a little as the door swings, putting all her trust into Lilith's grip. She joins her friend on the roof just as the rope consumes the lower edge of the door, spilling inside the car's cabin like magma. Damn it, they're too far away! Rob has returned with the Wrangler, rapidly uncoiling a braid of long, light blue climber's rope. I'd seen it resting in the back of the car during the trip, never once thinking that I'd see it used. Rob threads one end of the rope through a caribiner and takes it

and i'm sorry and secures it in place with a tight knot he holds it to his side as he shouts to lilith and eve okay listen we only got one shot at this i'm gonna throw you the hook and you're gonna catch it and yank it taut okay then you can hook it onto something and climb your way over don't let it fall okay lilith looks pale she nods before clamoring to her feet and stepping to the back of the car eve watches her her hands wrapped around her legs well here goes nothing

Rob begins to swing the rope over his head, a large undulating circle that quickly levels out as the weight of the carabiner eases the rope onto a flat plane. I instinctively shrug down as the rope passes over my head, swinging faster and faster, gritting his teeth, his face reddening, and the towering pressure of his single throw, Rob lets the rope fly. It arcs in the air like a cast fishing line towards Lola's outstretched hands.

I watch it pass in front of her, the metal of the carabiner glinting in the sun as it falls. She catches it, grasping the rope in her shaking hands. Despite her victory, I see her face contort with sudden and striking pain, panic. She holds the rope high over her head, staring wildly down at the rope between us. Following her eyes, my heart falls. She's caught the rope, but she didn't pull it taut fast enough.

Even with Rob continuing to hold his end up above his head, the rope had too much slack when it landed in Lilith's hand. It's fallen into a sloping arc, the lowest point of which scraped against the tarmac. It only rests a few precious seconds before Lilith finds herself unable to pull it free. It sinks into the ground. The rope starts to brush gently against Rob's fingers before he throws it to the ground. Okay, I just got something else, something we can put down. The empty jerry cans, they could step on.

too unstable and we'd have to throw them perfect okay okay the road has claimed almost half the car now eating up the license plate as the vehicle sinks lower and lower Lilith looks helplessly on as we deliberate Eve crying her eyes out behind her we could get a ground sheet we ain't got one that'll stretch well what about I'm going out there Apollo's blank statement catches us all by surprise turn in his direction I note a direct and powerful confidence in his manner they aren't gonna last much longer

It takes a second for the rope to get you. That's how they got so far ahead before they stopped. I drive out, they jump on my car, then we climb back. I ain't got more rope. You got the winch, right? If I drive out with it bunched up on my lap, I can make sure it never goes slack. Then I hook it up on my roof bars and we get the hell out of Dodge. You got the best car for it, but I should drive out there. You need to work the winch. Bonnie and Clyde can't climb back. Skips over his rationale for not choosing Blue Jade, not wanting to waste time on a foregone conclusion.

What about me? I'm lighter. The climb back would be easier. But you can't help them when they're jumping over. We're wasting time. You know it's a good idea. Rob takes a moment to consider it, his mind fighting for a better solution. You better get back here, Apollo. Don't plan on hanging around there, Rob. Apollo grins before sprinting to his rover. Rob, wasting no time, runs to the witch, switches it to manual and unspools the heavy-duty rope. His hands cross over as he drops each new length onto the ground. I turn back to Lilith. Did you hear that, Lilith?

Lilith is huddled next to Eve, attempting to comfort her as the car's headlights disappear into the depths of the road. Her head snaps around when I call. "What's happening? Apollo's coming up to you. You have to jump onto his car and climb back over, okay?" "Okay!" She hurries back to Eve, grasping her friend's shoulders as she relays the plan. "Okay, that'll hold."

Rob's climbing down from the hood of the Wrangler. He's fed the winch cable around and through the lightning rig, ensuring a good level of clearance on the way out and, more importantly, for the climb back. The rope has already been fed through Apollo's driver's side window. Bonnie and Clyde are helping to throw Apollo's baggage out of the trunk and onto the road behind him. The less he has to lose on this trip, the better. All set up over here. Okay, see you on the other side, Rob.

Apollo slams his foot onto the accelerator. The Range Rover bolts forward and powers towards the threshold. The engine roars as he rockets past the left turn and keeps on going into the territory beyond. In the few precious seconds he has, he crosses the distance towards the two terrified girls. The winch rope streams through the window and then suddenly pulls tight.

Apollo's thrown forward as the car comes to an uncompromising stop, roughly a meter's distance from Lilith and Eve. The impact looks brutal, but Apollo somehow manages to keep hold of the rope and, inexplicably, his sense of humor. "I don't think I got the insurance for this." Clumsily, still feeling the after-effects of the sudden stop, Apollo throws open his door and starts to climb out. "Taking the slack, Rob!"

My attention fixed on Apollo, I hear the mechanical whir as the winch kicks into life. As Apollo climbs out of his car and up onto the roof, he affixes the hook at the end of the winch to one of his roof bars, securing it in place. A few moments later, the rope is pulled straight. Apollo steps down on the hood of his car, his arms outstretched to the girls. It's a short jump, but they'll have to make it from a lower elevation. The trunk of the car already seeking to ground level. Okay, come on, I got you. We've got to move fast now.

Lilith stands up, helping Eve to her feet before stepping down onto the rapidly disappearing trunk. Okay, okay. Lilith yelps as she throws herself towards Apollo. Her front foot plants itself on the hood of the car, her other leg flailing in the air behind her. Apollo grabs her by the arms and yanks her onto the car, holding her close to him as she gets her bearing on the smooth metal of the hood. When she's stable, he lets her crawl up onto the roof, where she immediately looks back to Eve. See, Eve? Nothing to it. Come on now.

Eve paces back, her hands shaking as she contemplates the jump. Fighting against her screaming instincts, Eve squeals as she steps across the trunk and makes the leap across, the toe of her shoe lifting off the car mere seconds before it descends into the murky, black pitch of the road. Eve lands short of her destination. One desperate, grasping arm makes contact with the pallos as her legs bang and scrape against the rover's grille.

Oh, no. The f- ugh.

The fall takes a lifetime. Wrapped in each other's arms, Eve and Apollo tumble towards the patient, ravenous ground. In the split second before he leaves the hood of the car, Apollo uses his last inch of footing to push himself into a slow turn. Aww. Aww, bro. The twist continues as they fall until Eve is looking to the road. Apollo to a pale blue sky. In one final action, Apollo pushes Eve's waist, holding her at arm's length.

Apollo's back thuds into the asphalt, his head smacking audibly against it. Dazed and confused, he managed to hold Eve aloft, keeping everything but her feet from joining him on the hard ground. "Get back up! Quickly, get back up!" Her face shredded by fear and guilt and sorrow, Eve stares into Apollo's eyes and whimpers. Collecting herself, she pushes herself off him, ripping out her laces, and leaving a shoe and a sock behind as she clambers back onto the Range Rover with every movement she whispers a quivering apology.

"It's okay. It's okay. Go on. It's okay." He repeats those words over and over until I'm not even sure who he's talking to. The road elastisates around him, dragging him down into its steps. Eve looks back to him, her face cringing in misery. Bonnie buries her face in Clyde's chest, unable to watch the next few moments unfold. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. It's... it's alright. Just get going, okay? It doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt, really."

Apollo's ears sink beneath the road, entering a new world of perfect silence. Apollo sees the end nearing. "Oh god! Rob! ROB!" I won't play his final moments, for your benefit, and ultimately, for his. Before he sinks into the road, Apollo asks for Rob to talk to his family. He wants Rob to tell him that he loves them. Rob nods, knowing that Apollo won't be able to hear his response.

After a few cries of panic despair, Apollo's eyes and mouth are enveloped by the road. His screams are drowned by the thick, churning asphalt. Eve watches the rest of his body sink while Lilith tugs at her sleeve, pulling her towards the roof. Come on, we've got to go. Sarah, we've got to go. I'm sorry. Whispering one last heartfelt apology to the air itself, Eve steps up with Lilith and stares at the cable. Okay, guys, just let yourself down until you're hanging from the rope and work your way across. I got it. You ready? Yeah.

Eve looks to her friend. I-I don't! Just watch me, okay? Follow right behind me. The Range Rover's wheels have now disappeared. With every passing second, the cable's clearance diminishes, and the angle between the roof bar and the Wrangler's lightning rig becomes steeper. They need to start moving now, or not at all. Eve looks across the length of the rope. I can feel her mind kicking back at the prospect. I can't! Sarah, we fucking have to, okay? Follow behind me!

Lilith wraps her arms around Eve, hugging her stiff, shivering frame, before letting go and crouching down to the rope, slowly working her way under it. Her hands clenching the cable, her legs wrapped securely around it, Lilith starts to pull herself along the rope, shifting her feet up every few seconds behind her. She fixes her eyes on me as she drags herself to the halfway mark. Is she following? The asphalt swallows the Range Rover's lower chassis. Eve hasn't moved a muscle. The stretch of black tarmac might as well be a bottomless ravine. The Grand Canyon...

The idea of hanging herself over it mortifies her. Sarah, Sarah, it's not as bad as it looks. Please, please come on. Lilith crosses the threshold. Her knuckles are white as she continues to cling to the rope. Rob marches up to her and helps her down into his arms, coaxing her hands free by telling her that she's safe. As soon as her feet hit the ground again, they give way beneath her, and Lilith sinks to the ground, crying out. Sarah, come on, please. I can't, I... Please, Sarah, I need you here.

Her shallow breaths quaking with anxiety, Eve slowly crouches down and grips the rope. Slowly but surely, as the outfall consumes the car's license plate less than a meter below her, Eve lowers herself down and, with clumsily desperation, drags herself along the rope. She left it late. Her back hangs mere inches from the hungry ground as she shuffles unevenly towards us, lifting her feet and scraping them up the rope, her arms straining to stay locked. I'm not going to make it! You are! Keep going!

The Range Rover's window is now disappearing. Inside the dashboard has been submerged. With every yard that Eve manages to climb, the lowering rope ensures she stays close to the ground, even over the final few feet. My heart breaks the moment her foot slips. Ooh. Oh, God. It happens almost too quickly to register. As Eve erratically shuffles her feet along the rope, her bare left foot gives way, swinging underneath her and kicking down onto the ground. Eve tries to raise it in time before discovering that she can't.

No, no, no, no, please! Thrown entirely off balance, Eve tries to pull herself up. However, with her lower leg seeping into the dark tar, her position can't be maintained. She falls, her body twisting, as she falls onto the road. Oh no. Lilith releases a terrible shrieking cry. Eve whimpers as the side of her head rests against the tarmac, her cheek already subsumed. I'm sorry, Lilith.

"I'm sorry. No, no please don't be sorry. I love you. I love you, Jen. I love you too. I'm sorry I didn't. I'm so sorry." Eve tries to reply, but half of her mouth is sealed shut, encased in the creeping asphalt. Her short breaths finally melt into one long inhalation as her nose and mouth are sunk entirely. One remaining eye takes a final, fleeting look at Lilith before vanishing.

I look away from what is still to sink. The important thing's already gone. Lilith collapses on her knees, a screaming of torrent and grief expelled from her burning lungs. Rob is completely immobile, likely searching for something practical in which to bury himself. Bunny and Clyde simply look lost as they turn their backs on the sinking Range Rover.

I can take you back home if you want to.

No. No. Lilith wipes her eyes as tears continue to fall freely down her cheeks. When she turns around, she looks enraged. No. I'm still going. I'm going to get to the end. You know I can't tell you when that'll be. Lilith stands up and glares at Rob, then looks over to Bonnie and Clyde. Are you guys still going? Do you have a seat free? The siblings look to one another. Bonnie nods. You got a place with us if you want. Is the door unlocked? Yeah. Yeah.

Then what the fuck are we waiting around for? Lilith marches to Clyde's fort and climbs into the backseat. She waits for us impatiently to finish up. Anyone else want to turn around? Rob looks to me and Bluejay. Bluejay sends a look of deep scorn his way before marching off to her own car. Bristol? The Range Rover has finally sunk. The road has settled back into a hard, permanent surface. It isn't like Rob to offer me a ride home, and I feel overwhelmingly like I should take him up on it.

but there are too many questions unanswered too many unchallenged mysteries weaved into the fabric of this journey going back now wouldn't be a return it'd be a retreat i'm still going a few minutes later the three remaining cars roll down the dirt track leaving another incomprehensible atrocity behind us there's a part of me that can't believe i'm still continuing down this road a greater part of me is astonished that no one took the opportunity to turn back

As Rob carries me on to the next turn, and the one after that, I realize we all have our reasons. I'd become obsessed with chasing the truth. As had Blue Jay in her way. Bonnie had her own, unsettling motives for carrying on, and Clyde wasn't about to abandon her. Lilith had directed her smoldering anger and grief towards the road itself, seeking deliverance at its end. And Rob? As far as he's concerned, there's only one direction to go.

Still, when I think of the sorrows that have already befallen us and the potential for unspeakable ruin that lies ahead, I realize that no one in their right mind would continue down this road. I suppose no one is. All right, so that was something else. It's the first time, too, that we've seen something that is, I guess, supernatural in that kind of way. We've obviously seen the distorted man and stuff, but I think even to a point where it feels so realistic that now even Blue Jay is kind of standing there,

probably you know this isn't real it can't be real yeah yeah i don't know it's it's it's a very interesting uh it's very interesting that's really tragic that apollo and eve died because apollo died to save eve there at the end right like when he grabbed her and wrapped around her and then she died yeah and then she she died which you know it's a tense situation but immediately i'm just like apollo selfishly died or selflessly died for nothing so that kind of

You know? Yeah, it hurts pretty bad. I feel this... Yeah, there's like this little... There's this continuous pain in my chest over that, but at the same time, it's like... At least he also saved Lilith, too. Like, he saved both of them. I'm loving this story. I'm loving the direction it is. So, okay, let's think about some of this. The thing that was in the mirror approaching them, she describes it as wearing the same clothes from that car, right? Yeah. Well, the jacket. Yeah, maybe it was an old friend of his. That...

That bag was still in Lilith's car, right? Lilith and Eve's car. Yeah. So that bag had the clothes of whoever was in the vehicle. And now it sounds like the way she described it, his face looked like it was caved in and his arms were broken in several places. Maybe that was like a human that was turned into whatever that creature is, right?

Yeah. Well, I almost expected it to be the dead body reanimated because if the thing is all tore up and it was at a crash car, kind of makes you think like the guy's body was mangled in the car. Yeah. That's him reanimated. All the bruising from the broken bones and stuff like that. He's like running. I think that's what it was referring to.

Pretty brutal. So that causes them to freak out. And it seems like we were thinking earlier, oh, if you don't take the correct left-right turns, you just get lost. No, it turns out you just die. Yeah. No, you're just dead, actually. Yeah. Oops. Sucks for you. The invisible wall thing is really interesting, though. Them just plummeting right into it. Well, remember, it wasn't an invisible wall. It was the pavement catching them. Okay, so it was because they got off the road.

Do you think it's because... Do you think that they technically took a left or something? I guess I'm wondering why that road caught them versus the road that they're on. It's because they took a wrong turn. Because they sped up to get around the convoy and kept going straight, and they missed the left turn. I see. Okay. So they didn't play the left-right game correctly. So apparently if you don't play the left-right game correctly, you're just immediate death. Yeah, it's almost like you're on a safe path if you can just stay. Because it seems like if anything, too...

You know, Rob is trying to keep his cool and this like weird humanoid monster is chasing after them. Right. But I'm wondering how much of that is the road trying to lure them off the wrong path. Yeah. I don't know. I'm sorry. This is great. I love it.

Yeah, it's coming in good. I mean, we're on part six now. We're over halfway, Mark. I'm curious, especially now with the next draft starting. We're on the February 12th. So this will be the fourth day that they've been in there together with each other. Yeah, yeah. So almost a week playing this game and on the road continuously driving. I really don't see how any of Blue Jays speculation could still be warranted. I just don't. I don't know how that would be a thing.

Maybe if it was super high budget, but I don't know. Yeah, but like high budget for high budget for like what? Really? I mean, like I just don't want any game motive. Yeah. I mean, she's starting to come to that realization. I think, you know, like her whole this can't be real. It can't be real thing. And on that note, before we're at the halfway mark, uh,

So we are going to break this one up into two parts. This has been a long recording, guys, so thanks for hanging out with us for so long. In the second part, we're going to be starting at part six. So be sure to catch us along the next episode to find out the second half and the chilling conclusion to this buildup so far, which has been great. I mean, it's been a, you know, and the weird thing, too, I'm glad with this one is I think this is like one of the first stories we've done besides the staircase one.

Staircase in the Woods. I feel like it's been the first one that has had this kind of like fun supernatural thing that doesn't lead to like

weird real life repercussions or something it's kind of like it is taking a uncanny surreal take on uh interdimensional travel almost you know i did say i would kill to have like a spooky ghost story and this is like the equivalent of that after all of the quote-unquote real world tears we've been reading about so i'm i couldn't be happier right now like we get to talk about scary road monsters and like necromanced people and this alternate dimensional travel this is this is what i wanted

It's fun. It's cool. It's scary. It's like a creature feature to me. And it takes my mind off of whatever Boroska and pen pals was. So I feel great right now.

It feels good. I think that the buildup has been really fun. I mean, half the story has been building up kind of this, you know, is it real? Is it not kind of thing and just building up the game itself and the allure. But now we're getting into like some of the actual crazy stuff that's happening in this in this game. So I think the second part is I think the second half is going to reveal a lot more answers, obviously. But I'm very curious to see what else the game throws at the participants. Yeah. Yeah. I'm I'm thrilled. I couldn't be happier with it.

Yeah, it's amazing. It's very good. And, you know, like I said, this recording's been a long one so far, so we were trying to do it all in one episode, but I think it's going to be a hefty one, so we're going to have to break it up into two. So...

Without further ado, we're going to head out for this. We're going to head out this time, but, you know, be sure to show up next time whenever we post. Also, be sure to check us out on Spotify and Apple Podcasts, all the places you can listen to podcasts. We're there. And, you know, the audio downloads also help us as well. So, you know, if you're wanting to support the channel, that's a good way to do it. And you all be prepared for the part two of the Left Right Game. I'm so stoked. I can't wait. Left Right Game. We will see you next time. See you in the next one.