 If I had to give myself a job title, I'd probably try to come up with something professional sounding, something like corporate image consultant or freelance PR manager. Sounds nice. But if I'm being honest, what I really do is deal with screw ups. I look into things like chemical spills, buildings that aren't up to code, or managers who can't keep their hands to themselves. Then I make sure that whoever my client is gets away from that problem with a clean record. Sure, sometimes I get some good people who just find themselves in a bad situation. But those cases are rare. Most of the time, I'm dealing with a faceless corporation where my only contact is some prick in a suit. This case certainly had plenty of pricks and suits, but they were of a higher caliber than I was used to dealing with. Last month, I started a job for the US government. It all started when I found myself without any work for a couple of weeks and money was getting pretty tight. I'd already tried contacting a number of public help wanted ads, but no luck. I decided to make a listing on a job recruiting website to see if I could catch someone's eye. Lucky for me, within days I had a couple offers, but one in particular stood out. It promised a long contract and decent pay. In this line of work, like any kind of freelance job, long term and stable work is hard to find, so I responded quickly. I hesitated when I learned it was going to be a government contract and had even more worries with the piles of paperwork and NDAs that they had me sign, but at the time I figured I could keep my mouth shut for a few good paydays. The only hint I had that this might be an unusual job was the language the woman interviewing me used near the end of the interview. She asked if I had any history of scopophobia. I told her I had no idea what that was. She informed me it was a fear of being watched. I told her no, that wasn't a problem, but when I pressed her for details on why this was important, she seemed evasive. She mentioned unusual occurrences could happen around this type of work. She also reminded me that I couldn't hold them liable for any hazards I may encounter while on this job, physical or otherwise, if I signed the contract. I took the job, of course, only now I wish I'd taken those warning signs more seriously. After I was cleared to work, I was told what the job was, and it boiled down to this, I needed to look into and report on something called the Sunrise Project, which was an exploration of potential nuclear weapon development in the 1940s. If this sounds familiar, it's because it was a sister experiment to the infamous Manhattan Project. The details of what the Sunrise Project was testing on were vague and unclear. What was clear was it was shut down quickly and quietly after it repeatedly failed to produce meaningful results after a multitude of tests, according to the records on file. This bare bones reporting and lack of information may seem suspicious to some, but to me it was hardly surprising. I've seen countless projects become complete non-starters and disasters. Just like any entrepreneur, I figured our government was just as likely to sweep their mistakes under the rug and instead focus only on their achievements. The only reason this waste of taxpayer money was being looked into was because everyone who was affected by these tests was either too old to care or dead. I'm sure the politicians who paid for the investigation could still brag about a renewed effort towards transparency, honesty, accountability, and blah blah blah. I arrived at the location of the project in Nevada some time before noon, eager to get to work. After seeing the place, I realized the scope of the investigation was much bigger than I'd initially thought. This place wasn't just a couple of forgotten research buildings, but a massive ghost town that went on for miles. There were restaurants, suburbs, clothing stores, truck stops, a post office, even a city hall. I had no idea where to start. I was only given minimal instructions, a deadline, and a geiger counter for my own personal safety. I started with the suburbs as they were closest to where I came in, and unfortunately for me, there were no giant signs saying secret government lab here. Getting out of my truck, I noted that most of the homes seem to have very little wear and tear on them. Sure, time had taken its toll with dry rot and rust, but the typical signs of lives lived weren't there. The trash cans were empty, the road had no tire tracks, and there were no apparent changes to the homes themselves since they were first built. I was starting to think no one had ever lived in this town at all, when I caught something staring at me from one of the windows. My heart froze as I made out the clear shape of a person staring right at me from just a few houses down the road. They were only visible as a silhouette, so I couldn't make out any of their features, but I swear I could feel them looking right at me. Somehow the worst part was they were completely still, not even a sign of breathing. I must have stood there for almost five minutes, having a silent staring contest with this shape before I worked up the nerve to speak. I decided to go the professional route, speaking loudly and confidently, but also calmly to hopefully put them at ease. Hello, I'm here on a contract to look in some history around these parts. Do you live here? They did, and said nothing. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? Nothing. Listen, I'm not a cop or a thug or anything. You don't have to worry about me. I just want to have a look around. Still nothing. This wasn't turning out to be very productive. On the other hand, they didn't make any aggressive moves, so that was good. I put my hands up in the universal sign for I mean you no harm, and started walking towards them. I became more and more nervous with every step I took, as this shape remained completely motionless. Just when I thought it was starting to take too great a risk, I could finally see the face of the figure. It was the unblinking, expressionless face of a mannequin. A damn mannequin. This was no mysterious stranger or ghost. It was just a hunk of plastic. When I was done cursing myself, for the coward that I was, I went inside the mannequin's house to see what kind of joke this was. Inside, I found a whole family of fake people. A plastic mom, dad, son, and daughter, all done up in their Sunday best. It was while I was thinking about how uncanny and unreal this all was. When the truth finally hit me. This wasn't the research facility I went out looking for, and it certainly wasn't somewhere people used to live. This was the testing site. It was the kind of place once called a doom town. Doom towns were set up to look like an actual American town, but were totally empty, so when it was hit by a nuke, scientists could study the effect the bomb would have on real towns. I was suddenly incredibly relieved I'd been given a Geiger counter before heading here. The place was still plenty strange, simply because it was just so big. Most doom towns were a few scattered homes no bigger than a truck stop, but this place went on for miles. I figured there was a good chance not all of these buildings were just shells, and one might even have some kind of record of what happened here. So I decided to head further in. I wanted to take it slow, just in case I missed something. I wanted to be thorough. After passing by a good number of identical houses and a few more mannequin families, I made it to a restaurant, the first I'd seen coming in. It was an old school diner with classic red leather boots and a counter with stools. Looking behind the counter, I saw no sign of any hidden testing equipment, but instead found preserved food. That was almost stranger, though. It wasn't just fake displays made to look like food, but actual bags of pancake mix and canned goods. I even opened a can of olives to be sure, and while it sure as hell wasn't edible anymore, it had at some point been olives. I thought maybe this was one restaurant where they tested radiation's effects on food, but I checked other places, too. And they also had fully stocked shelves. Even the grills were real. Propane tanks hooked up and everything. This all seemed like far too much effort just to make a believable recreation. Heading even further in, I started to see some changes in the buildings around me. Many of the windows were shattered and the shingles on roofs looked singed. Even further in, bricks and cement were cracked and shattered, anything organic burned away. It was at this point I started to realize this test site might have actually been active before it was abandoned. I would have been more worried about radioactive dust and fallout if it hadn't been for my Geiger counter, which had stayed mostly silent, long enough for me to find something truly strange and eerie. It was at this point I found the shadows. Well, maybe shadows isn't the right word, but I don't know what else to call the images left behind when something has been erased completely out of existence. There were black shapes burned into the concrete all around me, while some of them were unrecognizable. Many were clear silhouettes of what was once there. Against a low roof, there was the shape of a ladder, on the sidewalk the shape of a bicycle, and most disturbing of all, the shapes of mannequins. Perfect outlines of people forever burned into the buildings all around me. While taking this in, I suddenly heard the noise I'd been fearing all day. My Geiger counter started clicking like a playing card in a bicycle spoke. If I knew one thing, it was if I didn't get out of there quick, I'd have about 12 new kinds of cancer. Before I could even work up a good sprint back the way I came, I heard and felt a deep rumbling coming from every direction. Mere moments after that, the sky lit up like it was on fire. That's the last thing I remember before I blacked out. I'm not sure how long I was out, but when I awoke, it was as if I'd gone back in time. All the rubble and scorch marks were completely gone. The buildings looked like they had just finished construction. Even the storefronts were fully stocked with goods. I would have thought I dreamed up all the destruction if it wasn't for the shadows that were all around me. Even more disturbing was the fact that only the shadows in the shapes of people, the ones that had to be from mannequins, remained. The ladders and bicycles were restored yet these haunting silhouettes seemed to be the only residents. I still wasn't sure if some sort of freak radiation storm had knocked me out and maybe I dreamed up the ruins. Perhaps the isolation of this place was making me lose my marbles. Either way, it didn't explain the shadows, but at the time I was so shaken up, I could only think about making the 20-minute trek back to my truck. As I walked, my fear and paranoia started to change into shame and embarrassment. Was I really going to have to leave with my tail between my legs? It wasn't I a professional? It took another 10 minutes of walking before I talked myself into turning around and finishing what I came here to do. That was when I noticed something had changed. I'd passed a number of shadows on my way back out of town and most recently, I'd seen a group of three on the side of a drugstore. When I turned back, that same wall was just empty. No eerie outlines of people, no graffiti, no dirt that could have looked like people, it was just empty. I was certain I'd seen more of those haunting shapes, but I still wasn't sure if my mind was playing tricks on me. I wasn't about to chicken out yet again, but I was now determined to keep my eyes open and pay close attention to everything I saw. It was near dusk when I made my way back to where I'd passed out. It wasn't cold out yet, but a chill ran down my spine all the same. The buildings were still in good condition, but there was nothing to see or hear besides the dust and the wind. Nothing moving down the alleyways, nothing moving on the streets, nothing on the... something moved. Just as I looked towards the storefronts, I barely caught sight of one of the shadows. It was on the wall where I remembered it, but I swear I saw it slip around a corner out of sight. That was my breaking point. I didn't care if I was going crazy, if I was a coward, or if I didn't get paid, I was leaving. I turned back for the truck, but I could still feel those shadows behind me. I picked up from a walk to a jog. I kept an eye on every corner as I increased my pace. On the next block, I saw something move in one of the houses. I was starting to panic as I turned down the nearest alleyway to make my way around the house. I could still feel the shadows staring. When I looked behind me, my worst fears were confirmed. A group of five shadows were on the walls of the alley I just entered, all staring at me. With blank faces only feet away, I ran. Turning down streets at random, I saw only glimpses of movement near me. I knew they were getting closer. I made it at least a few blocks before rounding a large building to a site that stopped me in my tracks. Burned into the road must have been the shadows of at least 30 people all facing me. The largest group of shadows I had ever seen in one place. I let out a short yelp of surprise and that's what really set them off. The shadows began pulling themselves out of the ground. Starting from the head, a swirling black vortex of ash, dust and glowing embers emerged from the pavement in the shape of a man. All around me, the shadows began their transition out from the walls and ground, joining the dreadful congregation. It was clear that their focus was fully fixed upon me. When the first of them was fully formed out of the ground, it began walking in my direction. I was finally able to snap myself out of the shock and I started running again. I ran as fast as I could. The further I ran, the more of those shadows emerged from the walls ahead. I turned down street after street, trying to avoid them, but they were coming from everywhere. When I tried to turn back the way I came, there was a horde of them gaining on me as they gave chase. I don't know how long I ran, but eventually I was boxed in by the ever-growing crowd. From every alleyway and avenue, there were dozens of the shadow people lurching and shambling my way. There must have been a hundred of them by now. Suddenly, a tone of incredible volume and high pitch wailed from every imaginable direction. It was as if the town itself was shrieking in reaction to my horror. I fell to my knees, covering my ears. Even if I couldn't stop the shapes from closing in around me, I wanted to at least stop the assault on my ears. I watched an ever-mounting dread as the first of the shadows came closer. It came within inches of me, and just before it touched me, it suddenly stopped. As more came near, they did the same, standing only a breath away, surrounding my cowering form. Before I could even react to this, the rumbling that signaled my previous blackout returned with a vengeance, even with the assault on my ears from that horrible shrieking noise and the ground shaking below me. The shadows continued to surround me, blocking my vision until all I saw was them. Before I was lost in darkness, I saw one last thing, the sky lighting up like a blazing fire once again. This time I awoke, and to a world both familiar and different, it was the ruins of the city again, the same rubble and scorch marks I'd first seen, but the shadows had changed once more. They were back to being simple shapes of mannequins on the ground, but all of them were surrounding one central spot, the spot where I'd awoken. I left that town as quickly as I could, and I've never returned. I didn't experience any other inexplicable events after my time in Nevada, but I have had time to reflect on what I saw that day. The sound I heard near the end of my experience was something I had recognized. It wasn't a screech or a wail, it was an air raid siren. I hadn't been able to realize it at the time, but looking back it was obvious. Any doomed town would have had a system of sirens to warn of an incoming test. The rumbling in the light would make sense too during a test. The rumbling would be from the detonation while a nuclear blast could be as bright as the sun. What doesn't make sense, however, is if I saw all of that. How am I alive? My best answer is the shadows. You see, I don't think they were the remains of some mannequins. I think they were people. People whose souls were somehow trapped in a singular moment of nuclear hellfire. I don't know how I experienced that same moment, but I believe they protected me. They knew what had happened to them and wanted to spare me the same fate. I don't have proof of this. Proof this whole thing is in some fantasy of mine, but I know what I saw. I think there were real people in that town. That's why I'm posting this. Someone out there might know the truth, but I know I wouldn't get the truth from asking my former employer. I knew that would only get me in trouble, so I told them exactly what they wanted to hear. I found nothing. And nothing happened with the sunrise project. That's what all the records will show, and I only have one souvenir that might prove otherwise. Sometimes when I'm alone in the evening, I swear I can catch my own shadow moving on its own, if only for a moment. I might not have come back on my own.