My First Day On The Job At A Substation In Texas Was Nothing Short Of Terrifying

We headed through the next door. Walter pointed out the break room and bathroom. Everything was old and a little vintage. It didn’t seem like anything in here was newer than ’78. There was a calendar on the wall that had a blonde with feathered hair and a tiny white bikini, sprawled out on the hood of a Firebird. I didn’t bother looking at the year. There was a small fridge, a single foldout table with three chairs, a tiny bulletin board on the wall by the calendar, and a dingy ceiling fan with a soft yellow bulb. The bathroom was little more than a closet with a toilet and a sink, both of which were stained brown and black by age.

Walter must’ve seen me take notice of the Firebird babe, because he smiled at me with his big teeth.

“That’s my Shirley,” he said. He patted the calendar, right on the blonde’s barely-there panties. “You treat her right when yore’ here all by yer’ lonesome.”

I just smirked and gave him what I hoped was a convincing laugh. Then he showed me through the next door to the security room.

The room was smaller than the others, except for the bathroom, and it was giving the shitter a run for its money as far as tiniest rooms go. There was an old office chair that still looked pretty comfortable, despite its worn look. In front of it was a control board and a wall of tiny TV monitors. Four of the monitors displayed the open desert in every direction, one of which showed my truck and Walter’s beat up Bronco and another displaying the fenced off breakers and transformers. The row above that showed the rooms I’d already been in (except the bathroom, but that somehow wouldn’t have surprised me). The row above that were four screens displaying a tunnel that stretched on for what looked like forever. It was lined with pipes and wires of every color and make, and there was a single hanging light every 20 feet or so. One of the monitors displayed a door that led into the tunnel. It looked like it was a little wrecked, too. As though something had scraped hard against it, but the thick steel door shunned it off with just a nice big scar to show for it.

“What’s that place?” I asked, pointing at the monitors with the tunnel displayed.

“That’s the ‘Endless Walk,’ as I’ve grown to call it,” Walter responded with a longing sigh. “That’s where you’ll be twice a night. That door there is the elevator down to it.” He motioned to a sliding metal door on the other side of the security room. “You’ve gotta’ make the walk at 10PM and 3AM. Just to record levels and general check-up.”

He put his hand on my shoulder before turning away from the monitors. The melancholy smile had faded to a grim expression on his horse face. The blue hue from the monitors cast an eerie glow on his features. He stared at me like a phantom as he spoke again.

“Now boy, don’t you go down there any other time aside from 10 and 3, and only for 25 minutes at the longest when you do. It gets all kinds of dangerous and unsafe. Not a friendly place to be, if you catch my meaning,” he said as a thin smile gradually spread across his face. His dimples looked like fissures in the desert.

I should’ve understood the warning for what it was: Creepy as hell. But I’ve worked a ton of dangerous jobs, and it wasn’t too out of the ordinary for me to get warnings like that on the first day.

Walter quickly walked me through the job duties. I’d done some electrician work a few times, and this was all pretty simple stuff. Just keeping an eye on a few levels, and making sure there was nothing that needed repairs or replacement. If so, there was a small shack out in the fenced off area with the transformers that served as a tiny stockroom. Anything I’d need for maintenance would be there, or so I was told. The phone in the security room and at the reception window both had a list of Walter’s number and local emergency services. As well as the only delivery place that would come out to this place. And I quote Walter: “They’ll charge ya’ out the ass for delivery, but it’s a hell of a good pizza.”

After giving me all the instruction I’d need, which took all of 15 minutes, Walter gave me a small set of keys, said his goodbyes, and took off down the long road in his Bronco. I watched him go from the doorway before all I could see was a small cloud of dust heading towards the dark horizon.

I headed back inside and sat down in the comfy office chair in front of the monitors. I’d tried switching the light in the security room on, but it didn’t work. I looked up to find there was no bulb in the fixture. I shrugged and just left the door to the break room open. I sat there for about an hour, staring at monitors and keeping an eye on the control board. At about 9:30, I decided I couldn’t take the silence any longer, and headed out to my truck to grab my MP3 player.

I stepped outside and found it to be surprisingly cold. In the desert, it gets pretty chilly at night, but this was ridiculous. As soon as I left the door, my skin stung from the cold. I could see my breath fog out ahead of me and I crossed my arms to keep my body heat in as much as possible. I jogged to the truck and opened the door, rolling up the windows as I got in. I left the driver’s side door opened as I leaned over to the glove box. As I began to rummage through for my little Zune, I heard a quick shuffling through the dirt near my truck. I immediately shot up in my seat and scanned out the door. There was nothing there, not even a cloud of dust. I looked around for just a moment, feeling a little anxious.

When I realized nothing was around me for miles, I shook off the feeling, grabbed my Zune, and headed back for the building. Just as I grabbed the door handle, I heard a shrill cry from deep out in the darkness of the flatlands. The scream sounded like air being let out from a very large balloon, mixed with something dying. It made every hair on my body stand on end. I looked around the desert, and saw nothing. I’ve heard wounded coyotes plenty of times, and I knew I did not hear them this time. I stepped back inside after a short time, and couldn’t help but wonder, What the hell kind of animal makes a sound like that?

I tried to push the whole event out of my head. It takes a lot to spook me, but it sure doesn’t help being out in the middle of the desert by yourself. I sat down at the monitors again, making a thorough scan over each. Nothing out of the ordinary. I allowed myself to calm down, plugged my headphones into my ears, and loaded up a whole lot of Stevie Ray Vaughn.

I was about halfway through “Flooding Down In Texas” when I saw it was just about 10PM. I paused the music and headed for the elevator with my flashlight, clipboard, and pen. I got in and turned the security key, pressing the only other button on the board. The old, rickety elevator trembled to life and rumbled downwards. The ride seemed like forever, but it was probably about three or four minutes. I couldn’t tell if the elevator was slow as hell, or if I was heading to the center of the damn earth.

Finally, the elevator arrived at its destination and the sliding metal door creaked open. A freezing draft flowed in, and for some reason, I was reminded of that shrill scream from earlier. Whether it was the memory or the cold, or both, I got a quick shiver and did what I could to stifle it.

I entered the tunnel and looked both ways. It was a straight and narrow tunnel as far as the eye could see. It looked like a painting that would drive you mad if you stared at it for too long. I was instantly grateful I didn’t have to be down there for longer than 25 minutes. As weird as the warning Walter had given me was, it seemed like a sweet deal now.