War, p.10
War, page 10
part #2 of A Journey Through Hell Series
Relax and this will go more easily, Peter then heard. Closing his eyes, Peter took a deep breath and tried relaxing his body. As he did, the burning sensation waned. Memories started to appear in his mind and, after a minute, Peter realized it was not he who was thinking them, it was the entity going through his memories. His memories flipped, faster and faster, as if they were pages in a book. The memories then stopped, and Peter found himself recalling his wedding day. The images spun again, stopping at the birth of his children.
Inside his head, Peter heard his instructions. First, he was to pick up the gun on the floor before him to use as protection. Then he was to load up the shopping cart in the corner with food and supplies for his family, and get a good night’s rest. But first, he was told to head over to the WTFH studio and figure out a way to restore the power. In the morning, he was to pack up and head over to the news studio, where he and his family would make a new home.
Peter was then told to oversee the restoration of power and help ensure the station could broadcast. The tentacle then detached itself from Peter’s head, leaving a bright red mark on the side of his forehead.
Reluctantly, Peter picked up the pistol, on which were small gray pieces of brain matter. After wiping it clean, he tucked it behind his back, into his waistband. Then, Peter loaded the carriage and headed out.
Cutting down Park Avenue brought Peter directly to the studio. Making his way around back, he parked the shopping cart across from the back door and rang the bell.
The chime for the back entrance scared Chris, who was sitting at the control panel piecing together different videos. Making his way toward the back door for the third time that day, Chris found it funny that he hadn’t seen anyone in weeks but now people were coming out of the woodwork.
“Hi, I’m Peter. I was told you have an issue with your power?”
Chris stood there, staring.
“You should see the other guy,” Peter said realizing how he looked with his beaten and bloody self, which was exactly how he felt.
Chris looked over his shoulder at the shopping cart.
“It’s food and supplies for my family,” Peter said.
“Any tools?” Chris asked.
“Not with me.”
“How do you plan on fixing our problem?”
“I’m here to scope it first. Plus I don’t think the problem is with the building but with the underground power lines, either that or the plant itself is down, killing the power to this grid.”
“Oh, really?” Chris said, poking his head around the door as if he could see them.
“How long have you been here?” Peter asked.
“Since the sickness hit,” Chris said, then seemed to realize he should invite Peter in as he added,. “Please, come in.”
“Can you show me to your electrical rooms?”
“Sure,” Chris said. “Right this way.”
Peter followed the younger man down the hallway, noticing the lights were on. “I guess you have a generator?” he asked.
“We do, but it doesn’t have enough juice for us to broadcast. We’ve been using it ever since the power went out. I think it’s tired now,” Chris said.
Peter rounded the corner of the long hallway, and his eyes widened. Standing still for a moment, he gazed around in awe at the newsroom before him. He had seen them on TV before, but the vast size was lost on the screen. Off to his left were workstations, a lunchroom beyond them, and the scenery to his right was impressive. The anchor’s desk sat on a raised platform, with four large cameras spaced out in front. Past the cameras, Peter could see the control room, which had a large control panel and over a dozen TVs on the side wall.
Peter inspected the power rooms, and everything looked good. Walking around the building, he found nothing out of the norm. He then asked Chris for a pen and pad of paper, and set out, walking each block in a grid pattern, searching for any obvious problems and seeing if the power was on in any of the nearby blocks.
Peter spent the rest of the day scoping out the area, then headed back. He reported what he’d found to Chris, who picked up the phone and spoke for a moment, then said, “Mr. Williams would like to see you upstairs.”
Getting off the elevator, Peter could sense something sinister, and upon entering the office noticed the black shadowy thing standing next to the old man, who sat at the desk.
“Ah, you must be Peter. My friend here told me to expect you. I’m Mr. Williams and I own the station.”
Peter said hello, but couldn’t take his eyes off the form in the room.
“What’s the situation with the power?” Mr. Williams asked.
Peter broke his gaze from the apparition and looked at the man in the chair, explaining what he had found and telling Mr. Williams he would need between ten and twenty men to restore the power to the building. Explaining what it would entail, Peter also informed them that the power plant was probably offline, and he would need to get it back up and running.
Mr. Williams looked to the force in the room, then nodded. Peter assumed the figure was speaking to the gentleman in private, as it had done with him.
“What do you think the timeline will be to get the power restored here to the studio?”
Peter thought about what he’d have to do. The first priority would be to get into the plant, then to get the tools and equipment to make the repairs, and then to get the plant up and running. “A couple days, maybe less, depending on how many helpers I have,” Peter responded.
“Okay,” Mr. Williams said, after looking at the shadowy form.
“What about the men to help me?” Peter asked.
Mr. Williams stared at the specter for a few moments and then said, “Go home tonight. Feed your family, and in the morning bring them here. We’ll have one of the suites set up. After that, head over to the plant and we’ll have men waiting.”
“All right,” Peter said, noticing the kid who’d brought him upstairs never looked at the presence. He wondered if he couldn’t see it.
“Will you please show our guest out?” Mr. Williams asked Chris.
“This way,” Chris said, turning and walking out of the office.
The sun was just starting to set when Peter arrived back home. His wife and children were excited to see him, and elated he had successfully found food. Cindy tended to the wounds on his face, then they all ate well and went to bed with full bellies.
Later that night, something happened that hadn’t happened in years. While lying in bed, he felt his wife’s fingers on his back. Soon, they made their way across his hip and down the front of his pants. Cupping his penis, she slowly stroked him until he was erect. Rolling onto his back, she kissed him passionately before removing his pants. Climbing on top, she then took him inside her and rode him slowly until they both climaxed.
Drifting off to sleep, Peter couldn’t help but feel thankful for all that had happened that day. From being saved to having food to feed his family and to the happy ending to the day. He knew he owed it all to the dark phantom— none of it would have been possible without it. Looking forward to getting back to work, Peter fell into a deep, sound sleep.
The next morning, Peter did as instructed and packed up his family and headed for the studio. He explained that he’d met someone, leaving out the detail of who, for his wife would surely assume he was crazy, and that these people needed his help to turn the power back on— and to keep it on— so they, in exchange, could stay in the secured building with food and supplies.
Peter arrived at the studio on time, and Chris showed the girls to their new suite. Upon arrival, they found Mr. Williams waiting for them and it surprised Peter at how well Mr. Williams treated the kids. He was expecting more of a Scrooge, but he turned out to be like a Bob Cratchit.
“There is a group of men already waiting for you down at the plant,” Mr. Williams told Peter.
“Wow, that was fast,” he replied.
“Our friend works in mysterious ways,” Mr. Williams said with a wink.
“You ain’t kidding.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks,” he said, and with that Peter kissed his wife and kids and then headed down to out.
Coming around the corner, Peter found fifteen men standing in a circle. They had been discussing how they’d survived the plague, and the Shadow Man. It, as some referred to the figure and He by others, and how that, in their worst time, it had seemed to appear, providing an opportunity to get out of whatever life-threatening situation they had found themselves.
The rugged men looked up as Peter approached.
“Are you Peter?” one of the men from the circle yelled.
“Yes,” Peter responded, not sure how they knew his name.
“We’ve been sent to help you,” the man yelled back.
Peter walked toward the group and two men stepped aside, creating a hole in the perimeter of the circle.
Peter stood in the middle, slowly turning, looking at each man.
“You all know why you’re here, right?”
A few men answered “Yeah,” while others nodded.
“Does any man here have experience working on power lines?” Peter asked.
Every man shook their head.
“Well, I can tell you that in a month’s time some of you won’t be here anymore.”
One man gasped while another said, “Okay. But we’re under the dark man’s protection. We can’t die.”
“That’s right, or we’d already be dead,” said a scrawny, middle-aged white man.
“I can’t speak for him, but I can tell you this is a numbers game and we always lose numbers. No matter how good men were, we lost them. And, before you speak up again, I’m sure it was him, the dark man, that came and took those men,” Peter said.
“You got that right, mister,” a big black man said.
A skinny white kid, who looked like he’d just come off a seven-day binge, said, “He ain’t gonna let us die. He’s our new god.”
“Damn straight,” said another man.
“Yeah. I never believed in that long-haired hippie Jesus, anyway. My dark friend saved me when no one else would. He’s the real Messiah,” said another.
“It doesn’t matter what we think. We all made a promise to be here today. I say we keep it in exchange for tomorrow,” Peter said.
“Right on, brother,” said a Latino man, who fist bumped the man standing next to him.
“Well, we’ve got some training to do before we can make repairs and get the power back online. I’ll give you a tour of the plant, and show you how things work in the power industry. After that, we’ll begin your training on how to repair the transmission lines,” Peter said.
Peter finished giving the men the twenty-five cent tour. Most could barely read, let alone understand something as complex as a power plant, so it was pointless to waste time explaining. Plus, he figured most would die from electrical shock.
After the tour, he led the men to a secure area and then through a series of doors. They passed a break room and entered a large locker room, lined with wooden cubbies. Each bin held a tool belt and an assortment of tools and equipment. Peter began giving his crash course on how to restore the power.
Chapter 16
Paxton, Nebraska
Maureen woke the next morning, those glowing red eyes staring from the crops burned into her mind’s eye. Worse was the sound of that haunting voice saying her name, which still rang around inside her head.
For some strange reason, the voice had seemed familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on where she’d heard it before. She looked down and found her hands were trembling.
Trying to convince herself she had not seen what she’d thought last night, Maureen told herself she must have nodded off and it had just been a dream. Yet, staring at the ceiling, those red eyes seemed to be everywhere she looked— like when a flash goes off and all you see is the white ring of light. Getting out of bed, she dressed and headed downstairs to start breakfast.
Bill soon returned from the barn and sat down at the kitchen table. Breakfast was served every morning at eight: bacon, eggs, toast, and a cup of black coffee. Even though the rest of the world had stopped working, there was still a lot to do on a farm. The animals needed feeding, and their stalls cleaning. If the end of humanity really was here, they could survive for quite a while off of the animals and the crops.
The clang of silverware, and her husband and two boys chewing, were the only noises in the kitchen. The red stove light was on, indicating the surface was hot. Maureen couldn’t help but stare at the glowing light. It reminded her of what she’d seen last night. Her entire body flinched as the light doubled and now two red lights were staring at her.
The lights, burning red-hot, grew in intensity and Maureen slowly backed away from the oven. The ruby eyes grew larger.
It must have been bad nicotine, she thought, backing up to get away. She backed up until she bumped into Bill’s chair, knocking the eggs from his fork.
“Um… Excuse me,” Bill said, stabbing another forkful.
“Oh, sorry, dear.”
“Are you okay Mom?” Caleb, the older of the two boys, asked.
“Yeah, it was probably just old nicotine,” she said out loud.
“Nicotine?” Bill asked.
“You don’t smoke, Mom,” Eben, her other son, said.
Realizing she’d spoken out loud, Maureen quickly thought of something to cover her slip. “Oh no, dear, I was thinking about the book I’m reading.”
Bill looked at both boys and raised his eyebrows, causing them both to laugh.
“Oh stop, you,” Maureen said, hitting her husband playfully with her apron. Looking back at the stove, there was now just the one light.
How old were those cigarettes? Were they laced? she wondered, still trying to force the images, and the voice, from last night from her head. But they kept popping up, and she had an overwhelming feeling she would see them again.
“Well, wish me luck!” Bill said after breakfast.
“Good luck, Dad!” both boys said in unison.
Maureen handed him the lunch she’d packed and kissed him goodbye. Bill grabbed one of his handguns and a rifle, and headed out to the pickup parked next to the barn. The screen door slammed behind Maureen and the boys, who had come out to wave goodbye from the porch.
Bill gave a toot-toot of the horn as he drove away, dust following the truck down the dirt driveway.
“Okay, boys, back to your chores.”
“But, Mom, we already finished them,” Caleb said.
“Yeah can’t we go play, Mom? Please!” asked Eben.
“Oh, okay. But be back for lunch.”
Both boys shot back into the house and up the stairs to finish their video game, which had been on pause since early this morning.
It was a little after ten when Bill arrived in town. Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, he was surprised to find it full of cars and people.
Chapter 17
Jacksonville, Florida
Grant hurried down the dirt road toward the retreat. He wasn’t fully sure what to tell the women once he returned, but he knew he couldn’t tell them the truth. How would that go over? Sorry, all of your husbands are dead because they were a bunch of murdering rapists. Yeah, that wouldn’t work. He decided he would tell them that Chad had discovered a warehouse full of supplies, and he’d sent some of the men to find vehicles to load up and bring back.
He walked inside the lobby, where three women sat as lookouts. Two stood up to greet him, asking if the rest of the men were back.
“No, they’ll be back tomorrow morning,” he responded.
“Why so late?” one woman asked.
“Well,” he paused, trying to get his story straight, “Chad found an enormous warehouse full of food, and the other men are searching for trucks to load up and bring it back here.”
“What did they find?”
“Anything good?” another woman asked.
“I’m not sure. You know how Chad is. He sent me back here to tell you all that they wouldn’t be back until tomorrow,” Grant said.
While Grant had been walking up the driveway, one woman had run off to tell his wife, Sara, he was back, and they told him this now.
“Chad sent you back to tell us this?” asked the woman, still sitting.
Grant turned toward her, not seeing Sara walk up behind.
“Well,” Grant started, then paused again, trying to think of an answer, his hand nervously rubbing the seam of his pant leg. “It was Robert’s idea. He said he didn’t want to listen to his wife bitch when he got back, and he suggested to Chad that I come back.”
The three women all began laughing as they couldn’t stand Erica, Robert’s wife, the constant worrywart.
“Please don’t tell his wife I said that,” Grant begged, which caused the women to laugh harder.
“We won’t say anything,” the woman sitting said. She then stood up and said, “Come on, girls, we should tell the other women not to expect their men back tonight.”
The women walked past Grant, and he turned to watch them go. Surprised, he did a double take at the one standing behind him wearing sunglasses, and it took him a minute to realize it was his wife behind the shades.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
Grant looked nervously around and said, “Yeah, fine,” then asked, “Everything okay here?”
Sara and Grant were not only married, but together they also ran a successful business. They may have been at a low point in their marriage, hence the couples retreat, but that didn’t mean they didn’t know when something was up with the other.
“Let’s go to our room so we can get you changed out of those filthy clothes,” Sara said, taking her husband by the arm.
Once inside, Sara closed and locked the door.
