What if the lights blinked while you were at the office alone, working late before a long weekend? And then you go outside, and you are the only thing moving? There are no birds, no insects, no sounds, and the sky is covered with bubble-wrap looking clouds.
Sounds like the start to just about every post-apocalyptic novel you've read, you think. But . . .
You'd probably want to head for home. But your car won't start. And the cars on the street are empty, but the driver's seat belts are fastened.
Maybe you would grab some supplies and a bike, and start for home. But it's 60 miles, and you can't do that in one day.
So you bike over to the local library, which is empty, lock the door with some duct tape, and sleep on the couch. And you are awakened by a sound that turns out to be another person, who is as confused as you are about the situation. You talk for a while, then go to sleep.
When you wake up, the person is gone. The door is still locked with your duct tape.
Hmm . . . starting to sound more interesting?
You grab your bike and your backpack, and start riding for home. You have to spend another night in a barn next to a house that is empty of people, even though their dinner is still on the table.
The next morning, you wake up. There is a dog there, who travels with you. There are buildings that appear overnight. Buildings that are bigger on the inside than the outside.
Not sounding like your typical post-apocalyptic story now, is it?
Especially when you see the ravens again. You saw one when you went outside your work's building. Then more that appeared that night in the barn.
And now there are six of them. Not a lucky number of ravens. More like a harbinger of death.
A group of ravens is called a 'murder', you know.