Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Foreword…
PROLOGUE
I - THE ARRIVAL
II - RISKY MOVE
III - SOMETHING IN THE WOODS
IV - REBELLION AND GENOCIDE
V – COUNTERSTRIKE
VI - THE STAND
EPILOGUE
Haven
Vincent E. Sweeney
Copyright © 2006 by Vincent E. Sweeney
www.lulu.com – ID: 431558
9781257264711
[email protected]
To God be the glory for all things…
For Amber, my whole family and all my friends and loved ones from:
Ghent, WV
Maxwell Hill Baptist Church
Ghent Elementary
Shady Spring Jr. High
Shady Spring High School
Elliott’s Family Foods
Concord University
Jarrell’s Pharmacy
Glen Morgan Missionary Baptist Church
Little General in Princeton, WV
Campbell University
Kerr Drug in Four Oaks, NC
and everyone else who has affected my life thus far…
With special thanks to Stephanie Williamson, my first fan.
Foreword…
I am Vincent Sweeney. I am a common person with common ambitions. I have a lovely young wife and the beginnings of a career in Pharmacy. I was born in Beckley, West Virginia on Valentine’s Day, 1983. In the twenty years I’ve spent in this world I have been privileged to enjoy a loving family, caring and fun-loving friends and, greatest of all, a Savior in Christ Jesus.
I do not presume to be perfect by any means, but I belong to a perfect God. Through Him, I can live without fear of death or doubt of eternal life. He has proved His greatness by loving me when I deserved no love at all. And for that, I owe Him everything that I am or ever hope to be. I feel by no means worthy to write a book about God or His Son, Jesus Christ. To incorporate elements of prayer and angelic beings are only a way for me to display my reverence and homage for His Glory. Please do not take the text of this novel as scriptural truth. This is merely for entertainment purposes. For spiritual guidance, I suggest a book that has sold more copies than any other book ever written. The Holy Bible contains the greatest story ever told and the hope of life eternal for God’s children. Please read it, if you have not already.
Going through high school and even now, college, I have been perpetually bombarded with the questions of “What did the author really mean?” or “Why does the author say this?” or worst of all “How does the author feel about this?” As the fruit of frustrations and irritations, this novel has been forged for the readers who know what I am talking about. To ask someone to explain how another person feels or thinks is a travesty. To grade a person on this is even worse. This story has been written with no hidden agenda, no unseen messages and no cursed parallelism to our present day and age. The story of HAVEN is intended to entertain only. Please do not bother yourself with trying to decipher what I am trying to say or what I meant to say. I am saying it word for word. If I have chosen at points to incorporate literary tools then feel free to point them out, but I beg you not to feel obligated to do so. Enjoy this novel for what it is and in whatever way you fancy.
Though my dreams have changed very little since I was a small boy, it has only been in recent years that I have been blessed with the capabilities to follow through with those dreams. For most of the life that I can remember, I have always had a vivid imagination. I constantly conjured up tales of monsters and heroes as a child. As I went through various phases, I knew what it was to be a Ghostbuster, a Ninja Turtle, a Starfleet Captain, a dinosaur hunter and my favorite - a Jedi Knight. When I was fifteen years old, sitting in history class, I daydreamed a story of space-adventure. Through the course of the next few years I modified and reconstructed that story many times over, often during similar schoo-linduced daydreams. With the aid of spectacular motion picture scores to fuel my imagination and writing pen, I compiled and completed the story of HAVEN in roughly five years. Whether or not this story ever makes it to the movie screen is yet to be seen. I only hope that someone somewhere will find the same sense of joy and excitement reading this story that I had conjuring it.
As an avid fan of science fiction, action, horror, drama, comedy, romance, history and above all else, heroism, I felt it absolutely necessary to incorporate all of these vital elements into the telling of this story. From the time I was eight years old, I have been yearning to tell a fictional tale worthy of the motion picture screen: a story meant for no other purpose but to entertain and perhaps somehow inspire. Through many drafts and revisions, mutations and reconstructions, I believe I have finally completed that story.
Growing up, some of my best friends were the novels by Michael Crichton and a massive collection of VHS movies ranging from Star Wars to Jaws, and from Indiana Jones to Braveheart (my personal favorite film). Concerning motion pictures, an audience must be compelled to project themselves into the lives of the characters on screen in order for the movie to sell. A motion picture must captivate its viewers, leaving no time or desire for wandering thoughts. After all, movies are intended to be entertaining diversions from the every-day lives of the audience. For the individual cost of an hour’s wages, an entire audience can be transformed into swashbucklers, zombie food, hobbits or damsels in distress. People everywhere love the idea of being something they ordinarily are not: be it heroes, lovers, soldiers… whatever the individual pleasure. The same principles however do not apply to literature. Books can be written merely for instructional purposes. Books can be used as tools to help study other books. Books can be incorporated to help a couple rekindle the fires of their relationship. But as plainly as I can put it, this novel is intended as a diversion - an entertaining tale of love and loss, danger and heroism, submission and rebellion and, principally, of good and evil.
With this knowledge, I hope you can curl up under and lamplight now, unwind from your otherwise arduous day, and enjoy yourself…
Vincent E. Sweeney (2003)
PROLOGUE
Bright moonlight shone down through the waving leaves, casting shadows that danced across the ground with ardent fervor. Innumerable insects and nocturnal fowl serenaded the twilight waltz with chirps and soft calls. The cool wind picked up a bit and carried a rustling through the valleys of the delicately slumbering world. When the moon peaked through the dense green foliage long enough, it displayed its gargantuan size in full glory. Small craters, interconnected by the remnant valleys of ancient waterways, dotted the blindingly white surface. Faint stars paled all around the magnificent orb, blotted out by its halo sheen.
The wind settled for a moment. The rustle traveled to the distance and dwindled into the oblivion from which it came. As the air grew continuously more still, the sweet melody of the insects and birds became soft and then abruptly ceased altogether. Through a lush green valley, a flash of red appeared and vanished in an instant. Soon after, another flash appeared and was gone. Another came and went, this time leaving a small orange glow where its burst disappeared. A distant scream echoed across the valley floor, and was suddenly silenced. After another burst of red shot out through the trees and into the eternal night sky, cries of protest mixed with terror resounded ever louder.
The sporadic red lights, as well as the increasingly numerous screams grew more and more intense as the band of refugees reached the top of the hill. Men and women, some carrying children in their arms, raced frantically between the groping tree limbs and clawing leaves. Occasionally, a stout young man carrying an energy pack on his back would turn from the flight path and
fire a streak of red energy into the forest from which he had just emerged. The energy bolts seared perfect circles through any leaves they encountered and diminished with a brief but sizeable explosion when impacting a thicker tree or the cool ground.
One such young man fired repeatedly, screaming with all his might at a pursuing enemy, only to discover that he was shooting a contorted tree trunk. As the trunk burst into flames, the young man looked frantically around the clearing he was standing in. Seeing nothing, he sensed that he had paused too long. He quickly turned and ran toward the cries of his comrades. The moment he reentered the forest, he was lifted off his feet with a piercing pain and set dangling in mid-air. He screamed in agony from the introduction of a jagged, foreign object through opposite sides of his torso, which ground deeper with each involuntary twitch of his slowly dying body. He could not escape the unflinching claws that had seized his soft flesh and would never let it go. As he began to lose consciousness from the fathomless pain he was sensing, his last thought was that he too would soon be a monumental testament to the relentless cruelty of the faceless enemy.
Further ahead, the leader of the refugees, a tall man wearing a cap, slowed his pace and turned into the onrushing mass of people. The Commander searched for anyone wearing a uniform similar to his own.
Seeing one briefly, he shouted, “Where’s Crick? Where’s Crick’s team?”
The frightened man wearing the uniform said nothing as he continued running past the leader, caring naught but for his own survival.
A uniformed youth soon followed, and ran up to the commander. “I saw them get separated from us earlier,” he gasped. “They went toward the shoreline.”
The Commander showed dismay in his face only for an instant before reengaging his run. “They’re cut off now… nothing we can do about it.”
“Right, sir” the youth replied.
“Did you see anyone else behind you?” the older man asked.
“No, sir,” he replied. “I think they may have broken off their chase.”
A soft whoosh sounded.
“Let’s hope they…” the Commander stopped in mid sentence.
The boy looked up to see his leader fall to the ground with an alien object imbedded in his neck. The commander gasped only once before freely regurgitating blood down his face and uniform. The youth immediately quickened his pace, never looking back as more and more whooshing sounds emanated from the forest all around him. He screamed in full terror and ran with all his might.
Suddenly, the moon disappeared from sight and the boy was bathed in darkness. He realized he was under the belly of his ship. A brief wave of elation poured over him as he saw the welcoming light of a loading ramp ahead. The grated incline seemed to rise into heaven itself as it faded into a tiny speck over a hundred meters above the ground.
As the youth neared the base of the ramp, he noticed a pair of enormous red eyes glowing in the sky near the nose of the ship. His fear then doubled and, suddenly, the shrubbery to his right began to rattle with horrendous violence. He screamed and took leaping strides, blindly jumping over anything that might be in his way.
He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and then a sharp slash across his back. The boy screamed from the shocking pain and he leapt for the ramp, turning to fire his weapon in the process. Streaks of red energy shot from his gun barrel into the darkness, but they found no target. The youth backed hurriedly up the ramp, turning only when he was a good twenty meters off the ground. He then began running up the incline, making loud clangs with every step. The outline of human forms in the opening ahead brought warmth to young man’s heart.
“Close the ramp!” he shouted. “Hurry, they’re right behind me!”
One figure disappeared briefly from sight. Soon after, gears grinded and metal squeaked as the ramp started to retract. The incline beneath the boy shifted suddenly, and he was nearly thrown off his feet. He felt the climb growing more difficult with each step, but he knew he would have enough time if he could just keep running.
“Come on, kid,” one shadowy figure yelled. “Hurry! You’re almost there.”
The boy leapt with all his might, landing with the bulk of his torso in the hatchway. Friendly arms grabbed for him, pulling his body forward. He let out a shriek when someone inadvertently raked across the wounds on his back.
“Come on, we’ve got you!” one man reassured, pulling his arms.
With a unified lurch, they all fell back and collapsed on the white deck. The boy panted heavily, holding his head in his hands. The ramp finally closed with a loud clash, which startled them all.
The boy looked up.
“I have to speak… to the Governor.”
In a purely white control room, a balding man of fifty typed solemnly at a console - his back to the rest of the world. The man raised a trembling hand to his lips as he thought on what to type next.
“Governor,” a man at the door said. “There’s someone to see you.”
The governor turned only slightly. “Yes?” he invited.
The man at the door stepped aside, and the shaken youth entered the quiet room.
“Governor,” he began with his head bowed. “Commander Emmerich is dead.”
The Governor closed his eyes. “How many of you made it back, son?”
The man at the door disappeared to talk with someone outside.
“Very few,” the young man said. “We lost… hundreds…” He paused for a moment, scanning his terrified mind… “Crick… Saunders…”
“Governor!” the man at the door shouted. “They’re gone!”
“Those cursed red eyes in the dark?” the Governor asked, worriedly.
“Yes, sir.”
The young man looked up to his Governor. He saw a wave of fear sweep over the older man’s face.
The governor looked to the ground. “Then, it’s too late,” he said. He turned slowly to type one final entry on the console:
THAT AWFUL TOWER MUST FALL…
A soft wind had already picked up when the Governor and the young soldier walked out onto the surface of their ship. Cool air rose from the thick metallic skin, which was rough and blemished from years of rainfall.
The Governor craned his neck toward the sky.
With unhidden fear in his voice, the boy asked, “What are we going to do, sir?”
The Governor shook his head as the sky began to lighten. “All we can do is wait, son… and pray.”
A red glow began to descend on the ship from somewhere in the heavens. Feeling a sliding sensation at his feet, the young soldier looked to the ground and saw that the soles of his shoes were melting. A massive wave of heat slammed the entire ship, driving both men to their knees. They screamed as their flesh boiled, but before either could exhale a final breath, a sharp flash appeared before their eyes.
In an instant, the entire ship swelled and every window exploded from the inside out. A low rumble sounded from deep inside the vessel as each portal on its hull began to glow from a flowering inferno within.
As the wind from the initial shock wave dwindled into a pulsing breeze, a warm orange glow emanated from the burning ship. This steadily expanding fire illuminated a pair of watchful eyes hidden among the leaves of the forest. For hours the eyes did not blink or waver in their gaze; they only stared onward with cold indifference as the dying ship belched out a steady stream of smoke and ash toward the heavens. The perpetual stream carried with it an unheard cry of pain and sorrow that did not fade or dissipate until it reached the starry depths of space…
I - THE ARRIVAL
1
The void was speckled throughout with the glimmer of billions of stars. One star alone in the blackness would only have been a single pilot light of hope. But there was not only one. Infinitely in every direction, the pure, white light grew intensely from the innumerable white torches and shattered the darkness in its way. The bright hope that the stars spread forth over the sky conquered the eternal night.
In the mi
dst of this perpetual throne room where light reigned supreme, a single glimmer, very tiny in comparison to the stars and nowhere near as powerful, presented itself timidly for the stars to judge. It passed among them without challenge to their authority and merely requested of them one of their orbiting bodies on which to stop and rest. It had been searching for centuries without success, and now, this day, it seemed as if a decision had been reached, and the fate of the entity was chosen.
As the enormous spaceship entered the planet system of a nearby yellow sun, scars of collision and erosion on its epidermis were made apparent in the gleaming light. Its surface was flecked with hundreds of minuscule dots of light. Symmetrically spotted amongst the glowing freckles were several huge glowing domes that seemed to pulse with warmth and life. One such dome was shattered, revealing only a cold chasm within - a harsh memorial to an earlier time. The only insignia on the massive ship was a simple ‘β’ symbol across its nose.
Although it glided quite smoothly through the void, the vessel seemed to ache with every bit off of forward motion. The ship appeared ready to collapse and go dark at any moment. This, the second and final lifeboat to be sent into the ocean of stars by the human race, had finally scanned a nearby planet that appeared to meet the environmental standards necessary to sustain life for its human occupants. To this ship of distress, it appeared that its purpose had been fulfilled, and it would soon find rest at long last.
As the ship came near the second planet in the system, a searing red bolt of energy streaked across the darkness and impacted its ancient hull. There was no sound from the explosion to carry in the vacuum of space, but the light of this strike flashed magnificently in the darkness as bits of hot metal shot outward into infinity. Only a small fragment of the vessel had actually been destroyed, but the inner damage dealt by the blow immediately caused a power shutdown within the ship. All the tiny dots of light that came from its hundreds of windows simultaneously disappeared, and the ship began leaving a trail of sparks and debris in its wake. It slowly and gracefully turned on its side and arced in the direction of the planet’s gravitational pull. Soon, the vessel was skipping along the planet’s atmosphere, slowly penetrating it. As it did so, the sound of this crash-landing finally became apparent. A shrill whine, mixed with the whooshing noise of a gigantic body slicing through the air, permeated the atmosphere.
Haven Page 1
