Romero repeated his name, rank and serial number, before spitting on the officer’s boot and rolling over in an attempt to protect his stomach from another vicious blow.
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked the officer, before reaching down and dragging Romero away from the rest of the prisoners. When he’d dragged him about ten feet away, he stopped and began kicking him relentlessly. “Are you prepared to tell me what I want to know? I don’t see you spitting on my boot now,” he teased, as an evil grin spread across his face.
The Iraqi officer continued kicking Romero until he’d been beaten unconscious and then he beat him some more. After a few minutes of kicking the prisoner, he paused to catch his breath and laugh. The officer stared down at Romero’s lifeless body and shrugged his shoulders, before taking several long drags on his cigar.
“I guess you’re no good to me now,” he said, withdrawing his gun. He then took careful aim at Romero’s head and pulled the trigger. The blast from the gun was muffled, as another helicopter passed over, swish-swish-swish.
*******
Ian awoke with a start and immediately realized that he’d been dreaming. He had one of the worst hangovers that he’d ever experienced, and he had most definitely experienced his share. He was sprawled out on his back, lying in the middle of his parent’s front lawn. Next to him in the grass were at least a dozen empty beer bottles and in his hand, he still gripped an almost empty bottle of whiskey. The sprinklers, which had just turned on, were making a swish-swish-swish sound and he was dripping wet, but that was not what woke him.
Ian’s head felt like a freight train had just passed through, followed by a series of explosions. He sat up and wiped the water from his face, not even bothering to stand. Instead, he just sat there, letting the sprinklers rain down on him. Behind him in the grass, were the remnants of a bottle of scotch, which he’d been using as a pillow. No wonder his neck felt so stiff and sore, he realized, as he reached up to massage it.
Ian picked up the bottle he’d been holding in his sleep and unscrewed the lid. He brought the bottle of whiskey to his lips and gulped at the amber liquid inside. When the bottle was empty, he tossed it to the side and heard the sound of clinking glass, as it hit an empty beer bottle. He was still in shock from what had happened to his parents’ only hours ago.
Ian had arrived home late the night before and his parents had already gone to bed. They’d long since given up on waiting for him to return home from one of his all night drinking excursions. As usual, Ian had gone into town to drown the memories of his fallen comrades. Although it had been five years since he’d been in combat, to Ian it felt like yesterday.
Ian had made a promise to his mother that he would return safe and take over the duties of the farm. He now frowned, as he realized that he’d only kept part of that promise. Realizing that his mother would now never see him take over the duties of the farm, Ian looked for the bottle of scotch he’d been sleeping on. When he found the bottle, he finished it off too and tossed it on the pile of empties.
Ian moaned and rubbed his eyes, trying to forget the guilt he felt. His head was pounding, his eyes were blurry and his lips felt dry and cracked, despite the sprinklers which continued to rain down on him. He had absolutely no idea how long he’d been lying there unconscious.
Ian slowly started to stand up, but slipped on the wet grass and fell onto his back. He lay there for a moment staring up in terror, as he tried to decide if he was hallucinating. Resting upside-down on the roof of his parent’s farm house was a thirty foot long sailboat. The twenty foot long, wooden mast had pierced through the center of the house. Ian stared in disbelief. He blinked twice and rubbed his eyes, but this was neither a dream nor a hallucination.
Slowly, and a little more carefully, Ian began to stand up. This time he made it all the way to his feet, where he could see parts of his childhood home scattered all about. He glanced around, scanning his surroundings, confused at what he saw. In every direction there was scattered debris of every kind. There were vehicles, tractors and even large parts of homes and buildings that must have come from miles away. It looked like a huge tornado had come through tearing everything apart. But there weren’t any tornadoes in Clearview, Nevada.
“Damn it,” cursed Ian, when he realized that his car was missing. He took a few steps back, to get off the grass and out of the sprinklers. Using his hands to shade his eyes from the afternoon sun, he began to search the horizon. Down the road about a mile away, Ian could see the dark figure of someone walking toward him.
Stranger on the Horizon
The Vanishing – Day 1
Clearview, Nevada
Ian stood there in the front yard watching, while the dark figure drew closer. It took the figure about ten minutes to get close enough for Ian to make out the distinct shape of a man. When he was about forty yards away, Ian could finally distinguish his face. In a pleasant turn of events, he saw Shiloh Evans, his neighbor and one of his best friends.
“Hey there,” called Shiloh, when he was within ear shot of Ian, “what happened here?”
“Um,” stammered Ian, as he scratched his head in bewilderment, “I don’t really know I just woke up. I’m not even sure how long I was out for.”
“Man you don’t look so good,” said Shiloh, as he gave Ian a concerned look.
“Yeah, I don’t feel so good either,” grunted Ian. “I remember coming home from the bar late, or early, depending on how you look at it. I remember looking in on my folks when I arrived. They were sleeping peacefully in their bedroom. After that, all I remember is watching television in the living room; where I fell asleep on my dad’s chair, until…” Ian suddenly remembered something that he didn’t want to remember.
“Until what?” Shiloh asked cautiously.
“Until I saw a bright light,” replied Ian, in disbelief.
“A bright light?” repeated Shiloh, trying to make sense of it all.
“Hey, you don’t look so good either,” said Ian, noticing Shiloh’s appearance for the first time. Dust and dirt were layered all over Shiloh’s hair, hands, face and clothes. “What in the hell happened to you?”
“I’ll explain in a minute, but for now can I get something to eat and drink?”
“Of course,” said Ian, “my bad, let’s go see if any of the food survived and get you some water.”
“Thanks. Tell me more about this bright light,” pressed Shiloh, more curious than ever, as he and Ian turned and walked toward the house.
“Oh yeah, about that, I was still sleeping in a chair with the television on, when all of a sudden a bright light started to shine from behind me and everything around me began to shake. The light was so bright and blinding that as I stood up I stumbled and fell over the coffee table. And of course the shaking wasn’t helping my drunken coordination either. When I was standing again, I started feeling my way along the wall, following it toward the source of the light. It seemed to be coming from the kitchen but right before I reached the kitchen, the light disappeared. It took my eyes a couple of minutes to adjust, but when they did, I discovered that my parents had vanished.”
“Vanished? What do you mean vanished?”
“Gone, missing, there was no sign of them. Well,” Ian hesitated, staring down at his feet, “except for their clothes.”
“Their clothes?” asked Shiloh, confused.
“Yeah, I’ll show you.” Ian opened the front door and led the way into what was left of his parent’s farm house, with Shiloh following close behind. There in the living room, they found Ian’s car wrapped around the mast of the sailboat, which had actually pierced the floor all the way through to the basement. Ian bent down and picked up a plastic bottle of water near the fireplace. “Here,” he said, tossing the bottle to Shiloh, who caught it and began gulping down the water without hesitation. “There’s a bag of chips next to your feet,” said Ian, pointing at the crumpled bag of chips.
Shiloh immediately bent down and retrieved the bag
from the floor. He hadn’t had anything to eat or drink for some time and his stomach felt like a hard knot in his belly. Ravaged with hunger, Shiloh ripped open the bag, and shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. He gratefully crunched down on the cheddar cheese flavored chips, as he looked around the house in awe.
“Oh my God!” gasped Shiloh, when he saw the devastation. “How did you survive all of this?”
“I don’t know,” replied Ian, shaking his head in wonder. “I don’t even remember passing out in the grass. I remember something on the TV about an emergency and that we should take cover from a meteor shower. I also remember a loud sound, following the bright light. It sounded like a freight train or a tornado or something. It’s all still a little fuzzy. See, there are their clothes,” he said, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, pointing at the kitchen table.
Shiloh stepped forward and peered into the dark room. Inside, he saw an empty table with plates of half-eaten food and what seemed like empty chairs. Stepping further into the room, he walked up to the table and reached down, taking hold of a chair.
Shiloh gasped, when he pulled the chair back, exposing two empty piles of clothing and something far more disturbing. “Did one of your parents have a pacemaker?”
“Yeah, my dad,” answered Ian. “Why do you ask?”
“Come here,” said Shiloh, still staring at the chair in disbelief. “Wherever your parents went, your dad appears to have left his pacemaker behind.” Shiloh reached down and retrieved the device from off the chair and held it out toward Ian.
“What in the hell!” gasped Ian, unable to believe his eyes. Not only was the pacemaker there, but his dad’s watch and both of his parents’ wedding rings were on the table, next to their half-eaten meals.
“Something strange is definitely going on around here,” replied Shiloh. “First that meteor shower, the likes of which I’ve never seen before, and now the disappearance of your parents.” Shiloh looked down at the pacemaker in his hand and then at his friend, “Ian?”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“The chair, floor and pacemaker don’t have any signs of blood or tissue on them, so how did they get it out of him?”
“I’ve no idea. What do you think we should do?” asked Ian, still dazed and confused by the sight before him. He wasn’t quite sure how he should feel or what to do. There was no contingency plan for, not knowing what the hell happened. He knew that he needed to remain calm and think.
“Before the meteor shower hit, I was on my way into Clearview to pick up some supplies. I think we should go into town and see what remains of it,” suggested Shiloh. “Do you have a functioning vehicle?”
“Well ya saw my car in the living room,” joked Ian, “but we can check in the barn and see if my parent’s old station wagon survived the ordeal.”
The two men turned and headed back outside the house and toward the barn, which was amazingly still intact. Ian unlocked the large doors and swung them open. Both men were pleasantly surprised to see that the station wagon was in the same condition as the rest of the barn. In fact, the entire barn appeared to have been somehow missed by the meteor shower altogether.
Shiloh was about to climb into the passenger seat when Ian stopped him and handed him the car keys. “Maybe you should drive,” he suggested. “I still feel kind of buzzed.”
“Alright,” agreed Shiloh, as he took the keys from Ian and climbed into the driver seat instead. Shiloh frowned when he turned the key in the ignition and heard a clicking sound. It wouldn’t start. “What do you think is wrong with it?”
“Sounds like the starter,” answered Ian. “We have some spare parts in the back stall, maybe we can fix it.” Ian walked back to the stall and returned with a small engine part in his hand.
“What’s that?” asked Shiloh.
“Part of the starter, it’s called a solenoid,” answered Ian, as he popped the hood. “It’s going to take me a few hours to replace it.”
“How do you know that’s what’s wrong with it?”
“Haven’t you ever seen the movie War of the Worlds?” asked Ian, followed by a smile and a wink.
“Yeah I have. Is that what was wrong with the cars in the movie?”
“Yup,” answered Ian. “I think part of what we experienced was an electro-magnetic pulse of some kind. I noticed in the house that all of the clocks were frozen and anything electric seems to have been fried.” Ian was glad to know that he hadn’t forgotten all of his military training while drowning away his sorrows in booze.
“Do you mind if I go look in your fridge for more food and water?” asked Shiloh, already knowing the answer. “I’m still pretty hungry and thirsty.”
“Of course,” responded Ian, with a small chuckle, “you’re always welcome to anything in my house, or what’s left of it. Besides, since when did you start asking before raiding my fridge?” Ian and Shiloh smiled at one another, before Shiloh turned and left, in search of food.
It took Ian longer than anticipated to complete the repairs to the engine. He worked late into the night and didn’t finish until early the following morning. The job took so long, that Shiloh and Ian decided to sleep for a few hours before heading into town. When they woke up and climbed into the station wagon, both men were relieved to hear the motor purr to life. As they pulled onto the highway and headed for town, Shiloh explained to Ian how he’d survived the meteor shower and how his truck was now buried under a mountain of dirt and stone. He left out the part about Sheila; he still couldn’t bring himself to talk about it yet.
On their way into town, they saw debris left by the storm on either side of the road. In some places, entire houses had been lifted up and torn apart, with furniture and appliances littered everywhere. In other places, Shiloh had to drive off the road to avoid entire structures that were lying across the highway’s path. The closer they got to town, the more debris and destruction they found.
Hang ’Em High
The Vanishing – Day 1
Chicago, Illinois
The storm outside of the O’Malley’s small fallout shelter seemed to last forever, but finally the explosions and violent shaking stopped. Not sure if it was safe or not, Lex decided to wait a little while longer before taking a look. While waiting, he began to search for any supplies that might come in handy.
Lex found an old, green duffle bag and a matching sleeping bag that looked like they were standard issue from World War II. He started a pile in the center of the cellar, which grew to include a fold-up shovel, a small hatchet for chopping wood, a fold-up knife, a flashlight with extra batteries, and waterproof matches. In the corner of the room, Lex found a small stash of canned food and bottled water, which he added to the pile. The old couple must have been stockpiling it in the event of an emergency.
Lex quickly filled the duffle bag with all of the supplies that he’d collected, except for the sleeping bag. He was about to add the black briefcase, when he suddenly realized that he hadn’t had the opportunity to look inside yet. When he tried to open it, Lex found that the briefcase was locked. The newly discovered knife came in handy, as he jimmied the lock. With little effort it opened, revealing the mysterious contents within.
Inside the briefcase, Lex found seven delicately packaged vials, filled with a neon blue liquid. Each one had a label on it that read NC666. Lex looked through all of the pockets, but the seven vials were all that the case contained. After closing the briefcase, he added it to the duffle bag, along with the recently acquired 9mm Berretta. He would have to save the mystery of the contents of the vials for another time. At least the meteor shower had provided the cops with something better to do than to look for him.
Several hours had passed since the sound of the last meteor impact, when Lex finally decided that it was time to have a look. He slowly climbed the steps to the large cellar doors above, and pushed them open. A strong wind blew through the opening and Lex could smell smoke in the air. He carefully lifted his head out of the cellar and looked aro
und. The storm had indeed ended, taking both his car and the farm house with it. In every direction that Lex looked, fields were on fire and homes lay scattered in ruin.
A brief glance around convinced him that he’d be better off spending the night here, in the safety of the storm shelter, especially with the likelihood of snow on the way. After all, the farm house, the barn and all of the vehicles were gone. The cellar was really the only type of shelter left. With the decision made, Lex closed the doors and went back down into the cellar. He untied the sleeping bag and rolled it out on one of the cots that he found leaning up against the wall. Kassie immediately came over and lay down on it, before Lex had even finished smoothing out the sleeping bag.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” chuckled Lex, “that’s where I’m sleeping tonight. But I’m cool with you warming it up for me first.” Kassie lifted her head from her paws and looked up at Lex with a lazy look and then lowered her head back down as if to say, whatever. Lex noticed another cot leaning up against the wall where the first cot had been, so he set that one up too. There was no reason why he and Kassie couldn’t each have their own cot.
Next, Lex started preparing dinner for both him and the dog. The stored food offered limited options, but he made the most of it. He heated up a couple of the cans of pork and beans and cracked open two bottles of water, one for each of them. Lex found a couple of bowls under the staircase, which he filled with water and food, before offering them to Kassie. She immediately sprang from the cot and hurried over to where Lex had left the bowls on the floor. Within a couple of minutes, she’d gobbled it all down and was licking up the last remnants.
Lex took his time eating, slowly chewing his food, and thinking about what had happened. The earthquake and the meteor shower he could wrap his mind around, but the bright light, and the disappearance of the old couple and the football players, well that was another thing all together. He had never in his life seen anything like that and his mind was working overtime trying to solve the puzzle.
The Vanishing (The End of Time Chronicles Book 1) Page 5
