The old lady held her hands up. “Sir, just calm down.”
“You keepin’ that shit here?”
“Mister, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The rain reserves, goddamnit!! Where are they?!”
“They ain’t here.”
“Oh yeah? But I’m willin’ to bet you know where they are, don’t you?!”
“I do not.”
“Who are you?!” the man screamed at Amber and pointed his pistol at her.
“Woah! What the fuck?!”
“You work here?!”
“No!!”
“You a prisoner?!”
“I’m here to visit my friend! Would you just calm the hell down?!”
The man returned his attention and his aim to the jail employee. She was gone. Amber thought that was just typical. That old lady took her sweet ass time to make her way down that hallway before. But once the crazy guy with the gun arrived, she sure could book it.
“Where’d she go?!” the man shouted.
“I don’t know!!”
He was pointing the gun at Amber again. “You didn’t see her leave?!”
“I was talking to you!!”
“Motherfucker!! Where’s she at?!”
“I said I don’t know!! You need to stop pointing that gun at me, Tinker Stokes!!”
“What?!”
“Put the gun down!!”
“How do you know my name?!”
“You fixed my boyfriend’s bike!!”
“What’s your name?”
“Amber Mitchell. My boyfriend is Trevor Dial.”
“That son-of-a-bitch owes me over three hundred bucks.”
“Yeah, well, join the club. He owes me a lot more than that.”
Tinker lowered the gun. “Where the hell is everybody?”
“Fuck if I know. That old lady was the only person I...”
Amber felt a sudden, piercing sting in her left shin. It burned. It felt as if she had been stung by something. The next thing she knew, Amber couldn’t stand. She was on the floor and her leg was bleeding. She watched as two men struggled to detain Tinker Stokes just a few feet away. Somehow they managed to handcuff this giant of man, three times the size of either of them. Next, they turned their attention to Amber. One of the men grabbed her hands and attempted to put them behind her back.
“What are you doing?!” The guy didn’t answer. Amber resisted the guard as best she could with a wounded leg and saw that Tinker was bleeding from his shoulder. “Did y’all just shoot me?!”
“Not her.” It was the old lady from before.
The guard struggling with Amber was confused. “What?”
“She was just here to visit somebody.”
“Oh.”
“Are you shitting me?!” Amber shouted. “You shot me?!”
The other guard was already on his radio calling for paramedics. Amber would spend the next several hours in an over-crowded hospital getting stitched up. By the time it was all over, she was too tired and too doped up to make a return trip to the jail. Trevor would just have to drive her to see Alicia in a few days, she resolved.
The rain was now the most valuable commodity on Earth as the world's governments and citizens guarded it more dearly than food, money, water or even their most sacred texts. Many nations called for a rationing system to be implemented, whereby humans deemed vital to advance would be selected and washed in the rain. In remote corners of the world, where news of the tear had not yet spread, it was argued, there must live powerful teachers and spiritual leaders worthy of enlightenment that had not been made aware of the miraculous powers of the rain and may have missed out to no fault of their own. Surely, these men and women must be washed before a common criminal.
The divides grew from here. For the "unwashed" as many enlightened members of the media referred to them, a fate worse than death loomed eerily on the horizon. To be cast out; consciously aware that human evolution would progress onward without them. This was more painful than any death. And so, with nothing to lose, they took up arms versus the so called enlightened and mankind's last great war began.
There would be many casualties. More than the previous world wars combined. It became unsafe to walk the streets. The world's people banded into two groups: those who had been washed in the rain and those who had not. Prejudices became rampant. The washed came to see the unwashed as primitive. The unwashed's disdain for the enlightened very often resulted in death, for the rain did not carry with it dimensional immortality.
It was a curious thing. When an enlightened person died, it seemed that one could view their soul drift above their body, outlined in the golden hue until finally it disintegrated, apparently into thin air. Of course, this did not occur when an unwashed man, woman or child died. This fueled further outrage, as it was thought that only the rain could bestow a soul or, perhaps, the lack of the fluid had somehow depleted the souls all naturally born within. Marshal Law was, in fact, attempted in many nations to curtail the violence but proved to be ineffectual. There was simply not enough law enforcement or military left to police the circumstances.
Milan watched all of this unravel from the relative comfort of his hotel room turned bunker in Tuscumbia, Alabama. Even here, in this once quaint, little town, it wasn't safe. He barricaded his doors with furniture if, for no other reason, than to protect his stash of food, water and toiletries. Milan spent his days watching the news, surfing the internet and listening to the shouting in the hallways.
Amber, meanwhile, found herself sequestered as well but not by choice. Thanks to her injury, she'd been confined to bed for the better part of a week. Between bong hits, Trevor brought her meals and helped her to the bathroom as needed. It would likely be a month before she would be able to walk properly again. In the meantime, she could hobble about on crutches if need be.
Amber spent her time listening to the radio. They said nothing of Princess Sariana, only the troubles, and so she combed the internet. In the far reaches of the web, in the corners reserved for conspiracy theories and doomsday prophecies, they said plenty. Much of it, Amber didn't understand. These were strange mythologies and the process of interdimensional travel eluded her completely. She needed to speak to Alicia. Amber felt certain that she might able to explain all of this in a way that she could easily understand.
On the first day of July, Amber felt sure enough that she could finally leave the trailer and so she called out to Trevor. There was no answer. She asked for him twice more. Nothing.
“Goddamnit,” she mumbled as she struggled to stand with her crutches. The song on the radio ended and there was dead air. Amber limped her way into the living room. “Trevor!”
It was, for a moment, strangely quiet in the trailer park. Amber hadn't heard him leave but Trevor was nowhere to be found in the house. She opened the front door and called for him. Soon, she heard similar calls for Stacy, Reg and Phillip. Amber heard a woman a few doors down, sobbing. A friend was trying to console her.
“He was just gone?”
“I was sitting right next to him, watching TV. I asked him to change the channel and he just wasn't there no more.”
Amber shut the door and noticed that the television news was silent. A single camera shot focused on an empty desk. Where were the bodies? In days prior when an enlightened soul had been extracted, by force or otherwise, there was still a body left to bury. Not this time.
In an instant all that had been washed in the rain vanished from the face of the Earth. While the enlightened might say otherwise, it was no grand rapture; there were no ornate ceremonies. They were simply gone. If it were not already obvious that a message had been sent, a familiar voice finally spoke plaintively from abandoned radios across the planet:
"It is finished."
We thank you for your purchase of the first volume of Brian Rickman’s ASCENSION series! A sample of the next volume in the series follows on the next few pages.<
br />
We invite you visit Brian Rickman’s website to stay in touch with future projects. You can also follow him on Facebook, Twitter and on YouTube, where you can always see the latest trailers for his forthcoming works.
A S C E N S I O N :
A f f I r m a t I o n
B R I A N R I C K M A N
CHAPTER ONE
Graham awoke in a blinding white room and nothing came into focus. He sat up and strained his eyes. He could make out a red seal hovering the distance; otherwise, just white. He considered standing up but, in the glare, he wasn't even sure if there was a floor below him. He felt peaceful. The last thing he remembered was the elemental rainfall, the euphoria and then nothing. Absolute black. Now white. He still felt the euphoria. He could recall a snap. A sound making him deaf and blind in a single instance. Then, it felt as if he took flight. He had a vague recollection of the wind in his hair. Did he die? There was a war. Kelly.
"Kelly? Haley?" he called out to the white.
There was a pause a finally another voice filled the room. "It is normal for you to feel confused." It was the voice from the broadcasts. "The two you speak of are safe. They look forward to seeing you and they are very happy. Are you awake?"
Graham looked around the room. He didn't see anyone. "Where are you? I can't see you."
"You will in time. This should not concern you. Do not worry. You, too, are safe."
Graham didn't doubt this. Somehow he felt content. The voice was, as always, reassuring. He trusted it. "Have I died?"
"You have not died. You will understand this in time."
"Who are you?"
"I will be your guide."
"What is your name? Are you God?"
"I have been known by many names, as have you. I am no more a God than you but no less."
"Is this heaven? The afterlife?"
"I see that you are still dreaming."
"What?"
"The effects of your journey will subside soon. I will return shortly. For now, explore. There is no danger here."
Graham looked in every direction into pure white light. "Explore what?" he thought. Graham sat for a moment and focused his sight on the red seal in the distance. He thought that might give him a clue. He stood up.
Suddenly, he began a free-fall. Panicked, he flailed his arms to grasp something, anything to stop his fall. There was nothing. Finally, he felt his body splash into a body of water but he didn't sink. Now the world around him had light. The sky was purple with glittering, black stars. He was in the midst of beautiful blue ocean. He could see a rocky shore in the distance, lush with green fields. He tried to tread water but he could not feel his arms or legs. At no point did he go under and as he tried to move he saw the waves rise and fall. The harder he pushed with his now imaginary arms and legs, the larger the waves grew until, finally with a single, powerful thrust, a tidal wave. He felt the entire weight of the ocean behind him, rushing against his back as the wave grew taller and taller with Graham surfing the top. The shore grew closer and he held his breath as the tsunami he created crashed upon the rocks and the fields.
He watched the ground grow closer as he fell from the crest, soaring into the green blades of grass. He braced himself for the impact and as he landed, he felt his body shatter into millions of water drops. He fell into the soil. The dirt felt warm and alive. It was embracing him and it was wonderful. His body then reconvened. Molecule by molecule, he could feel each single piece of reconstruction until finally he lay on his back in the green field, face to face with the purple sky.
A cool breeze danced across his face. His mind was racing now and he raised his hand to meet the wind. He watched as the breeze blew it away like grains of sand. First his hand, his arm and then his entire body encompassed the wind. He became the breeze and now drifted across the landscape, not as one single body but rather as the whole wind. At once, he could touch the grass, the trees, and the rocks.
He began to drift upward, higher and higher until he reached the pinnacle of the purple sky. From here, he could see infinite space. A mass of revelations filled his mind. He need only think of a destination and with a sudden burst of velocity, he would arrive. He knew this. He still did not know why. With that, he found himself thrust back into the white room and his physical body reassembled atom by atom.
"I see you are awake."
"What… was that?!" a breathless Graham asked the voice.
"You are remembering. It is natural."
"Did I actually go somewhere or..?"
"It was not a hallucination. It was as real as you are."
"Well, that's just the thing. I don't feel very real at the moment."
"You are still adjusting to your natural state. The life you led in the third dimension is complete.”
"I died there?"
"You have ceased to exist on that plane, yes."
"But I'm not dead. You've said before that there is no death."
"This is correct."
Graham once again looked about the white space that surrounded him. "When can I see you?"
"You may choose to see that which surrounds you at any time. Just concentrate and everything will become clear." Graham looked hard in the direction of the voice. He still couldn't see anything. The voice recognized this. "Clear your mind. What do you see?"
"I see nothing but white."
"This is your problem. See nothing instead. Everything will then come into focus."
As crazy as this sounded, Graham seemed to instinctively understand what the voice was telling him to do. He imagined the room as he wanted to see it and it began to appear. He was sitting on a bed, a dresser and an end table appeared. He found himself in his childhood bedroom. Baseball trophies and posters were scattered about the walls and toys littered the floor. He had imagined a familiar, safe place from the third dimension.
"Good," the voice encouraged. "You are remembering well. The world is of your making. As I speak, see me."
Graham now concentrated on the voice and a human form began to appear. Slowly, a man took shape before him, enveloped in a sharp blue glow. He wore a dark suit of clothes. His face was a blur. "I can't see your face."
"You have not yet decided my appearance. This is understandable. There are so many choices." The man's face appeared. He was blonde with chiseled facial features. He wore an eye-patch. This didn't seem right. The man now morphed into Ricardo Montalbán. Graham smiled.
"As you can see, I may take any form you wish."
"I like this one."
"Good. We are glad that you are comfortable."
"Will I eventually see you as you really are?"
"You must first understand that the physical body you knew in the third dimension is irrelevant in this world. Think of your brain as a receiver. As a radio, if you will. The radio waves beamed into the receiver exist independently, do they not?"
"Yes. The radio waves exist even if there is no radio to receive them."
"Correct. The radio is simply a means of broadcasting the waves deployed from the radio tower. As such, your consciousness exists with or without any one receiver."
"And where does the broadcast originate?"
"From here. What you refer to as your consciousness originates here. It may be broadcast to any vessel. This is your home."
"I've been here before?"
"Yes and your consciousness has ventured into many planes of existence."
"Why can't I remember these past experiences?"
"You will remember in time. It is far too overwhelming for you to remember all at once."
"If I have just left the third dimension, where am I now?"
"This is the sixth dimension."
"What happened to the fourth and fifth?"
"You are an old soul. These dimensions offer little to you. You are far too advanced."
"If that's the case, why was I residing in the third dimension?"
"This is far more complex. You will know this in time. Have patience. We fee
l it is time now for you to begin your full awakening. Please. Step outside this room."
Graham followed Mr. Montalbán outside the room and watched in wonder as everything around him appeared just as he imagined it. They walked on gold stone roads, observed a bright blue sky and snow-capped mountains in the distance. It was as if an unseen artist was painting the landscape as Graham thought it. If he didn't like what he saw, he simply thought of something different and the original object was erased and replaced with the new. It was a world of wonder, one of his own creation and it was spectacular.
Ascension: Invocation Page 24
