Tether
Page 29
Reggie’s back to work in her lab, focusing on tech that will benefit humanity. She’s enlisted Morgan to help, both of them toiling to redeem past mistakes. Bjorn splits his time between helping Reggie and attending seminary. I’m not sure he’s a convert, but he’s seeking the truth about what we experienced in his own way. Garcia has become my close friend and confidant. She’s back at work protecting people, but checks in on the weekends. She takes time to play board games with our small group of truth-knowers and keeps us up-to-date on the investigation and the search for Mr. Frank’s remains…which have yet to be discovered in Austin.
“I don’t need a phone,” I say, making a fist.
Light flickers from my fingers, and slides back through my hand, filling the tunnel with a supernatural glow. The ancient stone of the old fort is damp and oozing history.
Morgan is just a foot away, smiling up at me. “Show off.”
“What good are superpowers if you never use them?” I ask.
She steps closer, wrapping a hand around my waist. “C’mere, Lightbulbman.” She stops, and chuckles, and then corrects herself. “Signalman. Close enough.”
I lean in to kiss her. As my eyes close and my lips pucker, a blur in the corner of my eye makes my hair stand on end.
My eyes dart to the side, landing on a figure hidden in shadow.
I suck in a gasp and step back. “Shit.”
My arms tingle with a sense that someone is behind me.
I spin around and nearly shout at the glowing blue face of a man, staring at me, his face a mirror of the shock I feel. But he’s not surprised by me, he’s stuck like that forever, still surprised and confused about being dead. From the look of him, he was a confederate soldier held at Fort Warren—a pentagonal stronghold built on George’s Island during the Civil War. It served a role during the Spanish-American War, World War I, and World War II. The place is primarily a tourist location now, and home to more spirits than just the infamous Lady in Black said to wander the island.
I could talk to him. Same with the guy behind me, and the dozens of other dead inhabiting the tunnel.
“What is it?” Morgan asks. She knows, of course. My ability to see and speak with the dead hasn’t faded. I’ve attempted to set some free of their bond to the mortal plane, but I have yet to succeed. And I don’t think my breakthrough will be with this motley crew.
“Confederate soldiers,” I say.
“Holy shit. Really?” She’s more fascinated than afraid…probably because she can’t see them. “Guess we had an audience last time, huh? They’re probably wondering why you’re back with a new lady.”
I smile. “That’s just the way I roll, fellas.” A dozen confederate eyes turn toward me, their blue gaze unnerving. They hadn’t really noticed me until I addressed them—and they heard my voice—their first contact from the land of the living in two hundred years.
“Gah!” I say, and my hand goes dark.
“Okay,” Morgan says. “So, no old forts. No cemeteries. Or morgues.”
“Or murder scenes,” I add.
“Well, geez, where is a couple supposed to—”
“How about we start with the bedroom,” I say, “and if we need to spice things up, we’ll move to the living room.”
“Or the basement?”
We’ve moved. To Beverly. Home of the fictional Fusion Center-Paranormal…who would have been handy to have around a few months back. Randy wasn’t happy to see me go, but I couldn’t let him see me with Morgan in Rain’s body. Too many questions with unbelievable answers. Easier to just move on. The new house is recent construction with a concrete basement. No burial grounds. No ancient battles. No past murders. No ghosts. “If we finish it.”
We exit the tunnels slowly, hands brushing walls in the dark, following the path of turns we memorized on our way in. When we emerge from an old door bearing a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign, two little boys scream in surprise and bolt. We’re still smiling as we exit the fort’s rear, ocean-facing door, and we suck in a breath of cool, autumn air.
My smile plummets straight down to Hades when I spot the pale-skinned man in a fancy suit standing on the retaining wall, crashing waves at his back.
Mr. Frank.
When I tense, Morgan says, “That’s him?”
She has vague memories of her time as Wisp. Knows she protected me from a pale man. But she doesn’t remember what he looked like. Only what he felt like. But, when she answers her own question, it’s clearly enough. “That’s him. How did he find us?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say, stepping forward.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea,” Morgan says.
“Been waiting for this moment,” I say, and I give her a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
I give her hand a squeeze and step toward the undead man.
“You don’t seem nervous,” he says, when I stop ten feet short of him.
I smile at him.
For a moment, it’s grin versus glare, you pay for the whole seat, but you only need the edge. Then he cracks, brow furrowing, wondering what the hell I know that he doesn’t.
“You should have stayed in whatever hole you’ve been hiding in,” I say.
“Bold words, from a small man.”
“A small man, with big friends.” I light up my fists.
Mr. Frank laughs at that. He knows I’m not a threat.
“FYI,” I say. “I wasn’t referring to my fists.” I glance down when the tether snaking out of my body flares to life.
Mr. Frank’s eyes widen.
He definitely didn’t know.
The tether streaks into the sky like a lightning bolt, flaring wide when it strikes its far end. A body shimmers into the world, feminine and haunting, ribbons rising on her back.
Rain.
Behind her, the flash of light continues skyward, illuminating a second spirit, its massive, feminine face downturned in anger.
Storm.
They’ve been hidden from the world since that fateful night, but they have been my constant companions since. We don’t chat, watch movies, or play UNO, but I am always aware of them, and the protection they offer—mother and daughter.
Mr. Frank turns from the Riesegeists, his mouth slightly open in surprise.
“Oops,” I say.
Rain’s hand snaps down, snatching up Mr. Frank. And then, she squeezes. I’m impressed when Mr. Frank resists. His strength is supernatural, but it’s no match for Rain. I cringe when his bones begin to break, and I look away when blood oozes from between her fingers.
Then she turns away, sliding out to sea with Storm, taking the corpse of Mr. Frank with them. No one will ever find him, and hopefully, what remains of SpecTek will die with him.
Morgan slides up next to me, taking my hand, watching RainStorm fade from view, along with the tether connecting us.
They don’t look back or say goodbye.
Don’t need to.
No matter where they go—or where I do—they’ll be with me, in this life and the next.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
“Well, that got weird,” is the reaction I’m expecting from most readers upon finishing Tether. As is usual for me these days, I started this novel with a loose concept: a woman’s spirit is twisted into the monstrous form of a kaiju. With that in mind, I just started writing. I didn’t know who Saul Signalman would become. I didn’t know Rain would be found at the lab. And I didn’t know that an M.I.T. professor, FBI agent, or a flippin’ warlock would be coming along for the ride. Every chapter was a surprise. I was just along for the ride, transcribing what my imagination conjured. The result is a kaiju ghost story featuring some freakish ghouls, Matt Frank as a villain, and hopefully a very original story and a refreshing addition to the genre.
If you enjoyed the ethereal strangeness that is Tether, please help spread the word by posting reviews on Amazon and Audible. Every one helps a lot, and it might take some convincing to get new readers to ta
ke a chance on a giant monster horror novel…because, whose ever heard of such a thing? You have, that’s who!
And for that, I owe you a huge “thank you!”. Without the support of my core readers and listeners, I wouldn’t be able to let my imagination run wild. I’d probably be writing sordid romances. And if this was your first time experiencing one of my stories, there are a lot more where this one came from! Check out my other 60+ novels at www.bewareofmonsters.com, and sign up for the newsletter, or connect with me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/sciencethriller.
Thanks for reading!
—Jeremy Robinson
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Despite being a fan of giant monster stories my whole life, it took a long time for me to realize I could introduce the genre to novel readers. Not bound by the constraints of what men in rubber suits can do, or the budget dictated by a Hollywood studio, I’ve been able to create strange and bold stories that are as much about the human characters as the monsters they face. Big thanks to Kane Gilmour, for helping me realize giant monsters deserve a place in novelized fiction, and for his edits of this, and all my books. And thank you to Roger Brodeur, Cherei McCarter, Kyle Mohr, Chris Anstead, Dustin Dreyling, Dan Delgado, Jeff Sexton, Becki Tapia Laurent, Heather Beth, Kait Arciuolo, Julie Cummings Carter, Jennifer Antle, Donna Fisher, Dee Haddrill, Kelly Tyler, and Liz Cooper. Your proofreading makes me look like I know how to spell and type.
Thank you to Matt Frank, kaiju master extraordinaire, for his illustration found at the book’s end, and for doing so much to make giant monsters mainstream in the U.S.
Finally, extra special thanks to Truls Osmundsen, for Norwegian translations—and even audio samples to help Jeffrey Kafer out with the audiobook. Much appreciated. Takk!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jeremy Robinson is the New York Times bestselling author of sixty novels and novellas, including Apocalypse Machine, Island 731, and SecondWorld, as well as the Jack Sigler thriller series and Project Nemesis, the highest selling, original (non-licensed) kaiju novel of all time. He’s known for mixing elements of science, history and mythology, which has earned him the #1 spot in Science Fiction and Action-Adventure, and secured him as the top creature feature author. Many of his novels have been adapted into comic books, optioned for film and TV, and translated into thirteen languages. He lives in New Hampshire with his wife and three children.
Visit him at www.bewareofmonsters.com.
ALSO by JEREMY ROBINSON
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Beneath
Antarktos Rising
Kronos
Refuge
Xom-B
Flood Rising
MirrorWorld
Apocalypse Machine
Unity
The Distance
Infinite
Forbidden Island
The Divide
The Others
Space Force
Alter
Flux
Tether
Nemesis Saga Novels
Island 731
Project Nemesis
Project Maigo
Project 731
Project Hyperion
Project Legion
SecondWorld Novels
SecondWorld
Nazi Hunter: Atlantis
(aka: I Am Cowboy)
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The Last Hunter – Descent
The Last Hunter – Pursuit
The Last Hunter – Ascent
The Last Hunter – Lament
The Last Hunter – Onslaught
The Last Hunter – Collected Edition
The Last Valkyrie
The Jack Sigler/Chess Team Thrillers
Prime
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Instinct
Threshold
Ragnarok
Omega
Savage
Cannibal
Empire
Jack Sigler Continuum Novels
Guardian
Patriot
Centurion
Cerberus Group Novels
Herculean
Helios
Chesspocalypse Novellas
Callsign: King
Callsign: Queen
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Callsign: King 2 – Underworld
Callsign: Bishop
Callsign: Knight
Callsign: Deep Blue
Callsign: King 3 – Blackout
Chesspocalypse Novella Collected Editions
Callsign: King – The Brainstorm Trilogy
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Horror Novels
(written as Jeremy Bishop)
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© 2019 Jeremy Robinson. All rights reserved.
Cover design by Jeremy Robinson ©2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information e-mail all inquiries to:
jrobinsonauthor@gmail.com.
Visit Jeremy Robinson on the World Wide Web at:
www.bewareofmonsters.com.