The Cosmic Ark
Part 3 of the
Sleep Writer Journal
© 2019 Keith Robinson
Published by Unearthly Tales
on March 1, 2019
Cover by Keith Robinson
No part of this book may be reproduced without permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
COMING NEXT
Author's Website
Chapter 1
The week dragged.
Liam was beginning to think Madison’s sleep writing was over and done with, that there would be no more events, no more wormholes or aliens, no more interplanetary excitement ever again. He pestered her every morning about it, and she kept saying “Nope” in an increasingly impatient tone.
But then it happened again.
He called her Saturday morning mainly to confirm their plans for the afternoon. His parents were going out, and he’d invited Madison and Ant over for a movie and popcorn. When she mentioned in passing that she’d written a message sometime after midnight last night, he nearly dropped his recently dried phone in the sink as he stood looking out the kitchen window.
“What does it say?” he almost yelled with excitement.
“Don’t get too excited. It’s a weird one. Listen, I have to go out with Mom this morning and won’t be back until about three. But I’ll see you after that. Ant’s coming over at four, right? I’ll show you the message then.”
To his intense frustration, she hung up and kept him waiting. He paced all morning, pausing only when he heard tires crunching on gravel next door around midday. But it wasn’t Madison and her mom returning early, it was her dad leaving in the truck. Liam spotted little Cody perched on a child seat, looking excited about sitting up front. The truck left, and Liam paced some more.
By the time Madison showed up at Liam’s door, he was almost beside himself with impatience. All that excitement ebbed after she’d read the message aloud three times. “Read it again,” Liam demanded.
Madison sighed. “4:03 PM. Liam’s house. Quarter-mile away.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s what I wrote.”
“Yeah, but . . . my house and a quarter-mile away? That can’t be right.”
“I know. That’s why I said don’t get too excited about it.”
Scowling, Madison flicked back her hair, got up from the sofa, and wandered across to the double glass doors. Despite it being late afternoon, the room was unusually dark as she stood framed in the gloomy daylight.
“Are you sure you wrote it properly?” Liam said.
“I can’t control what I write or how I write it. I’m not even awake at the time. It just happens sometime during the night. You know that.”
“Yeah.” Liam chewed his lip. “So the wormhole could open here or a quarter-mile away? I’m not sure what to think about that.”
“Well, if it’s going to open a quarter-mile away, and we have no idea where, I vote we just stay right here. Maybe it’ll open here in your house. If not, well, I guess we’ll miss it this time.” She peered upward. “Anyway, looks like it’s going to rain. Let’s just stick to movie afternoon.”
Outside, thunder rumbled.
Liam glanced at the clock on the wall. “Plus, it’s already four. So yeah, movie it is, then—if Ant ever gets here.” Sighing, he extracted himself from the rocking chair and looked for his mobile phone. “He should be here by now.”
“Call him while I make the popcorn.”
“I plan to.” Liam found his phone and stabbed at it until Ant’s blurry face showed up. He pressed the call button and waited.
“I know, I know,” Ant said on the loudspeaker once the call had connected. “It’s not my fault! Barton has an upset stomach and had to stop.”
Liam laughed. “Seriously? Never heard that excuse before.”
“It’s true! But I’m here now. That’s me at the door.”
The moment he said those words, the doorbell chimed.
Liam rushed to answer. Ant stood on the doorstep looking up at the sky. Behind him, the black limousine backed out of the driveway, tires crunching on gravel, its engine utterly silent.
“Looks like a storm’s brewing,” Ant said. He shouldered his way into the house. “And I hear popcorn popping. Wait a minute. Have you put poor Maddy to work in the kitchen?” He shook his head. “Some host you are. Come on, Liam, get with the program. In my house we’d have caterers and butlers doing all that stuff for us.” As usual, he wrinkled his nose as he passed the TV. “And we’d be watching the movie on a gazillion-inch LED screen instead of this iddy-biddy portable.”
The ‘iddy-biddy portable’ Ant referred to—a fifty-inch plasma—filled one corner of the modest living room. Liam fired up the Blu-ray player and sifted through the movies.
“Ah, excellent service,” Ant told Madison when she returned with three bowls of popcorn. “So what’s new? How’s your puncture, Liam?”
Liam automatically touched his chest. “Fine. Bruise has gone. Itches a bit, that’s all.”
“So you haven’t turned into a monster yet? Or a dragon like that kid in Island of Fog? Or got some nasty virus?”
“Not that I know of.”
They’d talked about his tiny injury off and on all week. They’d played back the mysterious recorded message dozens of times as well, to the point that Liam was beginning to make out familiar words and phrases that he hadn’t recognized before. Ant and Madison disagreed. It was still utter gibberish to them, and Liam had to concede that his brain was making stuff up.
They’d talked in great detail about each and every event Madison had experienced, recapped the few they’d shared, and run over the details of the trip to the sand dunes with the Stick Insects. But there was only so much they could discuss without repeating themselves, and without any new events, the conversation was beginning to grow stale—hence an ordinary movie afternoon to take their minds off things.
The time wand was only mentioned a couple of times. The way the Stick Insects had honed in on it suggested it was like a beacon. Since Liam had put the wand in the bottom drawer of his desk, neither Ant nor Madison had asked about it.
They got comfortable—Ant in the armchair, Madison stretched out on the sofa, and Liam in the rocker. As the trailers started, he threw a piece of popcorn across the room to get Madison’s attention. “Hey, tell him about the message.”
Ant sat up. “You wrote something last night?”
He was all ears as Madison dug out her precious journal and read the curious note aloud. “I went ahead and wrote it in since they always come true,” she added.
“So a wormhole is open somewhere right now?” Ant said, sounding appalled. “And we’re missing it?”
“Well,” she said, “I assume it means a quarter-mile away from this house, but which way? Maybe by the lake, but then why not just say so? It could be anywhere—”
A booming thunderclap shook the house. The three of them leapt up, spilling popcorn everywhere as picture frames shifted and fireplace ornaments jumped. The TV died, and the lamp by Liam’s rocker went out.
The power came back on straightaway, but the three of them were no longer interested in the TV. They rushed to the glass doors. “Look at that,” Ant said. He yanked on the handle and stepped outside.
Liam followed him out onto the deck. Peerin
g up at the thunderclouds all around, he at first saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then he became aware of the yellowish hue directly over the house, and the odd, smoky formation that descended on them. “Yikes. Tornado?” he said, craning his neck.
“Don’t know.” Ant wrinkled his nose. “Do you smell that?”
Now that he mentioned it, the air did have a strange odor, a little like a match after it had been struck and burnt out. “Probably lightning hit something,” Liam muttered.
“There is no lightning. Just thunder.”
An icy chill had seeped into Liam’s bones. All this talk of tornadoes, lightning strikes, and a yellowish cloud had reminded him of his future vision. Could it be happening right now?
They stood watching the curious storm, hearing occasional rumbles all around while the ominous formation grew larger, turning slowly.
“Is it my imagination,” Madison said from behind them, “or is this storm coming down on us?”
“I hope it’s not a twister,” Liam said, trying to shake off his dread. “Let’s get to a safer place.”
Not one of them moved. Instead, they watched the approaching cloud with morbid fascination. More rumbles came, this time loud enough to rattle the chains of a hanging plant pot and cause the geraniums to jiggle.
“I don’t think this is a twister,” Ant said. “It’s freaky, though. There’s no funnel, but it seems like the entire cloud is about to fall on our heads.”
“It’s targeting us,” Madison murmured.
To anyone else, such a statement would have seemed far-fetched, dismissed with a derisive laugh. But Liam, Madison and Ant had experienced enough bizarre phenomena that the suggestion of a storm cloud setting its sights on them was only mildly weird and certainly worth considering.
A curious wailing made them jump.
“What the heck is that?” Madison whispered, clutching the sides of her face.
The noise came from somewhere in the descending cloud, which now smothered the top of the roof and spread outward far beyond the property. Seconds later, a ghostly shadowy figure tore overhead, a woman with a white face and streaming hair, her raggedy gown billowing and trailing behind as she whipped around in circles within the cloud. As Liam stared up in terror, he had the distinct impression she was screaming at him.
Chapter 2
A hand gripped Liam’s shirt from behind and yanked hard, and he tumbled inside the house. The moment he was clear of the door, Ant shut it with a bang. The wailing abruptly ended. When Liam struggled free of Madison’s grip and pressed his face to the glass, the ghostly woman was gone.
“D-did you see her?” he babbled.
“Saw her, ruined my pants,” Ant retorted. “Was she a poltergeist?”
“A banshee,” Liam said. “Can’t see her now, though.”
“Banshee?”
Liam shrugged. “That’s what she reminded me of. A faerie woman warning that someone’s about to die.”
Ant grimaced. “If you say so. You’re the man when it comes to stuff like that. You with your books about everything from aliens to unicorns.”
“This is bad,” Madison muttered. She was now taking cover behind the wall to the side of the glass doors, her shoulder pressed against a framed black-and-white photo of Liam’s great-great-grandfather taken in 1892. She pulled out her phone and tapped one of the speed-dial icons. “I’m calling Mom.” Immediately she frowned. “Wait—no service.”
“Try the house phone,” Liam said, dashing to the bookshelf under the stairs where the cordless base was. He threw the handset to her, and she started dialing.
“It’s crackling badly,” she said after a pause. “Interference or something.”
No cell service was one thing, but there was something more personal about a messed-up landline. Maybe someone was just outside with an electronic scrambling device, or—
Liam shook his head. Where on earth had that thought come from? The crackling phone line had to be something to do with the crazy, sulfurous atmosphere. But as he looked at Madison, he knew she’d had the exact same thought, and so had Ant.
The thundercloud was shockingly low. Liam had never known one to touch the roof before. It was more like fog now, only fog didn’t drift down from the sky. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the storm was here for him. His friends, too. Everything in the immediate vicinity—the door frame, the deck, the pavement, part of the lawn—had a yellow hue. The house basked in an unhealthy, jaundiced glow under the swirling cloud.
“What is this?” Ant demanded. His face was ruddy, and he was sweating. “What’s going on? Is this anything to do with your message, Maddy?”
She pulled out her notebook and flipped it open. She thumbed past all the scribbled messages to the most recent. “4:03 PM. Liam’s house. A quarter-mile away.” She sighed. “I get it now. The wormhole is at Liam’s house—but a quarter-mile above us.” Madison shot an accusatory glare at both boys in turn. “I’m telling you, it’s targeting us.”
“Look,” Liam said, “Mom and Dad won’t be back for hours, and the phones don’t work. Maddy, shall we make a run for your place or what?”
They hustled into the kitchen and crowded against the external door, peering through the somewhat smeared glass into the ghastly yellow daylight. It was getting harder to see. Outside, Madison’s house stood forty feet away beyond the five-foot hedge. Was her mom looking out a window? What did she think of this huge swirling cloud?
“Is your dad in?” Liam asked Madison.
“No, he’s taking the truck back to my uncle up north. He took Cody with him so Mom could get some work done.”
“Oh, right, yeah. I saw them leave.”
Thunder rumbled, but it seemed more distant now. Whatever hung over the house was unrelated, a silent and mysterious anomaly.
Liam turned the doorknob. Madison gripped his wrist tightly and glared at him. “What are you doing?”
Ordinarily Liam would have been thrilled at her touch, even a painful grip like this. But right now he had other things on his mind. He shook her off. “Stand back. I just want to look.”
Ant was right by his side as Liam pulled the door open and let in the powerful sulfurous smell. He wrinkled his nose as he stepped out onto the wobbly step his dad kept threatening to fix someday.
The moment he did so, a deafening roar thundered in his ear, and he yelled and ducked as a gigantic blackness swooped over. He caught a glimpse of something solid, real, and very big, a flying creature with massive bat-like wings.
Ant stumbled and fell in his haste to scramble back inside. As Madison helped him up, Liam’s attention was on the storm cloud. He fell to his knees and gasped as the thick, fog-like substance smothered the gutters and crept down the siding toward him. Hardly able to believe his eyes, he saw shadows flitting about in the swirling yellowish mass and knew it was teeming with . . . with things.
Seconds later, the cloud swallowed up the top of the kitchen door. Ant and Madison crouched low, shouting and holding out their hands for him. Liam realized he was crawling around on the grass. As if bugs were biting his ankles, he leapt up onto the step and dived into the arms of his friends and the safety of the kitchen. Someone slammed the door behind him.
When the three of them next gazed out, they had time to glimpse Madison’s house one last time before the cloud came down. As it did so, the inside of the kitchen turned a sickly yellow.
Then utter silence fell.
Liam blinked and shook his head, certain he’d just gone deaf. But his friends were doing the same thing, Ant going so far as to poke his finger in one ear and waggle it about.
“What happened?” Madison whispered, her voice magnified tenfold.
Nobody had an answer. They stood and waited, facing each other in a huddled circle by the kitchen door. Outside, the foglike substance pressed against the glass, thick and impenetrable. The only sound was the three of them breathing hard and the occasional squeak of a sneaker as someone shuffled nervously.
&nbs
p; It was Ant who spoke first. “I wonder if Barton came back.”
“Not if he had any sense,” Liam said.
Ant pulled out his mobile phone and peered at it, then put it away. “Still dead. But he might be outside waiting on us.”
Madison gawked at him. “You’re not seriously thinking of going out there?” The look of incredulity on her face would have been funny any other time.
“Maybe if we’re quick we can skedaddle before they realize. While they’re organizing themselves.”
Liam and Madison locked eyes for a second, sharing the same astonishment. “Who’s they?” Liam asked.
Jabbing a thumb skyward, Ant lowered his voice. “Them. Up there. Whoever’s controlling that cloud.” He took the following silence as an opportunity to expand on his theory. “A wormhole’s opened, and someone has set this thunderstorm on us.”
Liam had a less complicated theory. “It’s probably just an accident. Wormholes have been opening near us lately. But they don’t last long. We just need to wait it out for forty minutes. Then it’ll be gone.”
He saw the flaw in his own suggestion right away, but it was Ant who voiced it. “What if the wormhole closes and the cloud’s still here? Visitors usually know the wormhole’s about to close, and they retreat before it does. But this is a cloud. It doesn’t have a brain. It can’t think for itself. What if the wormhole closes and it ends up trapped here over our heads with that thing flying about?”
“You just said someone set it on us,” Liam argued. “Make up your—”
A tremendous thump on the roof shook the kitchen. It caused the silverware to rattle in the drawer and pots and pans to clash in the lower cupboard. Hanging spatulas, spoons and whisks jiggled on their hooks. Dust trickled from the five-bladed ceiling fan as it bounced and wobbled gently.
Two seconds later came a roar. A motorcycle at full throttle in the compact kitchen wouldn’t have been as loud as whatever gargantuan beast straddled the roof. Liam’s neighbors half a mile up the wooded lane were no doubt rushing to their window to see what was going on. Next door, forty feet away, Madison’s mom must be frantic with worry knowing her daughter was being attacked by a—
The Cosmic Ark Page 1
