Apocalypse Weird: Genesis (The White Dragon Book 1)

by Bolz, Stefan

  The White Dragon:

  Genesis

  Stefan Bolz

  Copyright © 2015 Stefan Bolz

  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in reviews, without the written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, locales or organizations are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are imaginary, and any resemblance to actual places, events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Second Edition

  Published by Beacon Books Publishing, New York

  Cover Design by Michael Corley

  http://www.mscorley.com

  Editing by Ellen Campbell

  The Apocalypse Just Got Personal

  And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them to kill with sword… and with hunger, and with death.

  [Revelation 6:8]

  Long Beach, Long Island, Ten Years Ago

  The sun sat golden on the still surface of the water, the quiet of the morning only occasionally interrupted by the cry of the seagulls on their hunt for food. Far in the distance, a container ship made its way down the coast, most likely to anchor at Staten Island or the Red Hook Container Terminal in Brooklyn. Thirty feet from the water’s edge, and deeply immersed in her immediate task of building a castle in the sand, sat eight-year-old Kasey Byrne. Despite her father’s attempts to prevent her from leaving the house unsupervised by installing childproof locks on all the entrance doors, Kasey was able to find a way to sneak out in the mornings.

  This time, today, she’d climbed out her window and onto the porch roof. She’d watched her dad the day before take out the window screens, clean them and put them back in. From the roof, she had used the lattice screen to reach the railing below and jump onto the sand. She’d opened the small cedar box next to the stairs and taken out two plastic shovels, a blue bucket and several sand baking forms. From there, she ran across the walkway and down the wooden stairs to the beach. She loved the cool sand under her feet and the crunchy noises it made while she walked on it. She never went into the water during her morning excursions. She loved simply sitting there playing in the sand, while imagining kingdoms and princesses and dragons.

  She didn’t see the man at first. He came from the east, along the water’s edge, and from there straight toward her. When she became aware of him, he was not more than fifty feet away. She used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. He stumbled and fell, then got up again. There was no fear in her as she watched him approach. Nothing in her past experience had given her cause for it. When he fell again, he was less than ten feet away. His face was covered in grease and dirt, his hair was filthy and his clothes in rags. He bled from several wounds on his arm and forehead.

  She carefully placed the bucket next to one of the castle walls — the one that faced the water — and looked at him. His eyes were blue like the ocean. Or like the sky, she couldn’t decide. He extended his arm toward her. From his closed fist, part of the chain of a necklace was visible. He opened his hand. At first, all Kasey saw was wet sand. The man seemed to whisper something. Kasey decided at that moment that she needed to see what he held in his hand. It wasn’t mere curiosity. It was something bigger, something her young mind couldn’t comprehend at the time. She only knew with certainty that she had to see what lay hidden there.

  As she came closer, she could hear what he said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeated over and over. She took the necklace. It lay cool and heavy in the palm of her hand. For one moment longer, the man looked at her, looked into her eyes. Did he nod? If he did, it was so slight one could easily have overlooked it. Then he pushed himself up and stumbled past her. He turned around once more.

  “Find me. Find me in the surf and the loneliness of time.”

  He turned again and stumbled on, further up the beach.

  Kasey was just about to fill her bucket with water to clean the necklace when her mother came running across the dunes. “Kasey. Kasey! Are you okay? Did the man do anything to you? Oh my God you scared me.”

  “I’m fine, mom,” Kasey replied. “He didn’t do anything. I’m fine.”

  Mallory Byrne hugged her child as if it was for the last time. “We told you not to come here in the mornings. How did you even get out of the house?”

  “I climbed through the window and down where the vines are.”

  “I can’t believe you did that. Come with me. And don’t even think about doing that again or you are so grounded.”

  “But mom, nothing happened. I was just playing. I like when the sun comes up. And I never go into the water.” Kasey saw in her mother’s eyes that the anger dissipated, making room for concern.

  “You can’t come down here without us. Do you understand? When you weren’t in your room, I thought somebody had taken you.”

  “Taken me where?”

  “You’re much too young to understand. Let’s go back.”

  “Okay, mom.”

  When Kasey grabbed the sand baking forms and shovels, Mallory saw the necklace.

  “What is that?”

  “The man… gave it to me.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t be mad. He just gave it to me and then he left.”

  “Did he say something?”

  “He said he’s sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Yes. He said he’s sorry. He said it three or four times. Can I keep it?”

  Mallory took it from Kasey’s hand and looked at it.

  “Hand me the bucket.”

  Kasey gave it to her. Mallory walked to the water and filled the bucket half way.

  “Let me see, let me see!” Kasey couldn’t contain her excitement. Mallory held the necklace under water. The sand came off immediately. The amulet was round, deep black, porcelain maybe, with a white dragon coiled around itself in the center. For a moment, neither of them could take their eyes off of it.

  “It’s so pretty,” Kasey said. “Can I keep it?”

  “I don’t know.” Mallory looked around. The man was long gone.

  “Mom please. I won’t come down here in the mornings again. I promise. Please can I have it? Pleeeaaase!”

  “Okay. Here.”

  “Thanks mom.”

  While they walked through the sand to the walkway, Kasey pulled the necklace over her head.

  “Why did the man say he’s sorry?” Mallory asked.

  “I don’t know, mom. Maybe he wanted to keep it?”

  The sun rose over the ocean as they walked back to the house. It did so on the next day and the day after that one. It rose every morning as weeks became months and winter came and went. It rose when Kasey left for school each morning and it set when she went to bed at night. Months became years and glorious summers turned into crisp falls and the salty snows of winter. The sun rose on the day of her first kiss and set on the evening of her very first heartbreak. It painted the sky in gold and turquoise on the morning of her seventeenth birthday and it set when she stood outside waiting to be picked up for prom night. The sun did not know Kasey’s fate and the role she would play in the years to come, the sacrifices she would have to make. It merely rose and set only to rise again. And so it rose on the day when the end began.

  Friday, June 21st, 8:25 p.m. — Summer Solstice — Ten Years Later

  The last reasonable thought Hank Filler had before insanity took his mind was of his late wife. He’d lost her to a stroke a few years back. Since then, eve
ry evening during the summer, he took his small commercial fishing boat, the Atlantic Crawler, to a spot a few miles south of Fire Island. Sitting there in the quiet, the boat rocking gently in the water, he was able to remember her most clearly.

  He shouldn’t be out here anymore. His sons had told him not to take the boat out any longer. His eyesight was failing him, especially at night. And he was beginning to forget things. But not her. Never her. So he sat there, engine turned off, the last rays of sunlight warming his face and thinking of the fifty-six years he’d had with Sara. And as always, he raised the small bottle of gin toward the sky. And as always, he let the tears run down his face while he drank, while he emptied the bottle. They weren’t all tears of sadness. There was joy in them as well — the joy of having lived a full life. Now on the eve of his own, he had no regrets.

  He’d never seen fog in the evenings. Not out here. He squinted his eyes against the setting sun. The fog diffused the light, softened it a bit. It sat a half-mile out, due south. He could still see the water and the sky behind it but it was as if a veil had fallen in front of him.

  Hank thought his eyes betrayed him at first when he saw the silhouette of the three-master, its sails fully blown, breaking through the fog and toward him. It was as if it had come from another world. And it had. The hull black as night, the sails crimson, with blood dripping from their edges and into the water. It blocked the sun and at the same time, the light made the sails glow deep red.

  He was unable to comprehend what he saw. But it wasn’t the image itself that drove him insane, that stripped him of any reasonable thought. It was that that came with it. For one moment — a moment that would last until he’d give his last breath three years later — he saw the place the red ship had come from.

  It was a world where the oceans were made of blood and the sun’s heat scorched the land, where the thick, toxic air brought forth great suffering in everyone; where the stars stood cold at night and eternal darkness was a promise to each of its inhabitants at the end of their lives.

  He saw those who had given their souls — boys, not older than nineteen, maybe twenty — who sat below, who, with each stroke of the drum, pushed the oars into the water, their tortured backs never resting, their hands bloody and with no skin left on them. She had taken them from their families, promising them to leave their siblings in peace, if they accepted the brand on their naked chests, the sign that they now belonged to her.

  He didn’t know how but Hank knew at that moment that they had not brought any food with them. Each day, they would sacrifice one of their own for the others to survive. In the end it was the pain he felt for them that pushed him into the dark corners of his mind, where he stayed until his final breath.

  The red ship — so it would be called from this day on — dropped into Radar at the Shinnecock Coast Guard station for one second, only to disappear again right after. Nobody noticed it. Other than Hank Filler, one person saw it that night. Only one.

  Friday, June 21st, 06:48 p.m. to Saturday, June 22nd, 05:39 a.m.

  “Let me help you with that.” The voice said next to her as Kasey balanced wood on one arm while trying to close the back of her Jeep with the other.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” she answered without looking. Too late she realized that she carried too many branches at once. The whole pile began to tilt and slide off her arm.

  “Whoa,” the voice said. “Got it.”

  She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to look at any boy right now. In fact, she had sworn to herself only two months ago never to look at any boy again. Ever. But it was hard to avoid looking at this one, mostly because he was standing right next to her. When she finally gave in, she did so with the most defiant expression she could muster.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling widely. Too widely for Kasey’s taste, even though she did see the freckles on his nose and how his eyes smiled even wider than his mouth.

  “Hi,” she replied, trying to sound indifferent and somewhat friendly at once.

  “Where do you want it?” he asked, shifting the pile in his arm so he could carry it comfortably.

  “Huh?”

  “The wood. Where do you want the wood?”

  “I can carry it.”

  “I know that. But now that I’m carrying it already, it would be silly to try to move it from my arm to yours. Why don’t I just carry it to wherever you want it?”

  Damn those logical arguments that leave you with nothing to add or counter with.

  “Sure,” she replied while opening the driver door and grabbing a binder from the front seat.

  “Now that’s a nice ride!” he said, emphasizing every word.

  Did he have to mention the car? Every boy, every boy she had ever met, liked cars.

  “Thanks.”

  She locked the driver’s door and began to walk up the dunes. He followed.

  “That’s it?” he said, catching up to her. “You’re driving a two-door, sky blue, 1975 Jeep Wrangler SRT-8 and all you can say is thanks?”

  “What would you say?” she asked. Not that I’m interested in your opinion, she thought to herself and then realized that this was a bit harsh.

  “What would I say? Wow. I’d say that… it’s got a HEMI crate 5.7 liter engine. I’d continue with the five-inch suspension lift. Could be four but I’m sticking with five. From what I can see, it’s got a 3/4 roll cage and Cobra Daytona front seats. For starters. That’s… what I would say… if someone told me I have a nice car.”

  “I didn’t know it has all those things. But thanks for pointing them out. Next time someone tells me that I have a nice car, I’ll have all those very important items to share with them.”

  They crossed the dunes. The sand under Kasey’s bare feet still held some of the sun’s warmth in it. A few of her classmates were here already. She didn’t want to have to explain her helper, try to introduce him and then, God forbid, continue to have to talk to him.

  “We’re over there,” she said.

  “Okay,” he answered.

  Does he ever not smile? When they arrived, the boy dropped the wood next to the already prepared fire pit. Kasey’s best friend Jo greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

  “Who’d you bring? I didn’t know you’d bring someone. Who is he?” Jo’s short, dark hair looked as if she just got out of bed, which she probably had.

  “I’m right here, you know,” the boy said.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. My name is Jo. That’s short for Johanna. I’m Kasey’s friend. Kasey’s best friend.”

  “Hi. My name is Jack. Jack Reeves.” Jack shook Jo’s hand. “Pleasure.”

  He extended his hand to Kasey.

  “I’m Jack.”

  “You don’t know each other? That’s so… weird. I thought you came here together.” Jo held a beer bottle in one hand and what looked like a school binder in the other.

  “We just met,” Jack said. “Down by her very cool car.”

  “She got it for her birthday. Which is today. Happy Birthday, Kay.”

  Kasey did not want him to know that it was her birthday. It would potentially generate far too much attention from him. “Thanks, Jo.”

  At that moment, someone turned on the boom box.

  “Would you like a beer?” Jo asked Jack.

  “Sure,” he replied.

  Kasey couldn’t decide whether or not she was happy that Jo had taken over the conversation with Jack.

  “Who’s up for a game?” A dark-tanned blond boy with broad shoulders asked, football in hand.

  “You wanna play?” Jo asked Jack.

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re not intruding. Right, Kay?”

  “Game on,” Kasey replied. Game on? How much more embarrassing can I possibly be? Now that it was out, though, she couldn’t take it back.

  “You like football?” Jack asked.

  “Not really. And we’re not playing football. This is more like rugby.�
��

  “Gotcha.”

  There were ten of them, including Jack. The tanned boy, together with Kasey and three others stood on one side. Jack stood on the sideline, visibly undecided as to what to do.

  “Come on, you’ll be on my team,” Jo said. “That way we’ll have a fighting chance.”

  A few minutes into the game, Kasey had to admit to herself that Jack was a pretty good player. He was aware of what was going on with the rest of his team and always ready to move the ball forward without overtly trying to score himself. Then she caught the ball and passed it. It wasn’t as high as she wished it was and Jack caught it, now trying to move past her. She ran after him and, after considering it only for a moment, she tackled him and they both went down. In the process, she rolled over him and to his other side. For a moment she lay there next to him.

  “Nice tackle,” he said when he extended his hand to help her up.

  “Thanks.” She didn’t take the hand and got up on her own.

  As the game continued, more and more people arrived and eventually Kasey decided that she’d had enough. Another girl came in for her and she went to the cooler to get a bottle of water. Jack strolled toward the cooler as well.

  “You’re stalking me now?” she said, much harsher than she intended.

  Jack’s smile wasn’t as wide as before. There was a vulnerability in him that she hadn’t noticed before.

  “Listen,” he said. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your party. I just moved here and don’t know anybody and if you don’t want to talk to me that’s fine. Even though I’m not quite sure what your problem with me is. I haven’t done anything to you and I only tried to be helpful. But don’t worry, I’ll finish my beer and be on my way.”

  Kasey didn’t expect him to be so honest. Something in her opened up a bit. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… Actually, I did mean to. I’m just not in the mood for anything remotely related to your kind. Right now.”