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| >> Campfire Creative >> Fiction >> Thriller/Suspense >> ID #1812543 |   |
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| [Introduction] Lester Ely knows things. No one is quite sure how he does, or even why he can, but there is little doubt that he is on a mission to stand tall in the town of Rosebud. |
 Jane Dough-Beater, MIA  Lester sat up in his bed feeling confused and agitated. A sheen of sweat covered his face and arms, giving him a chill in the cool night air. What had woke him, he wasn’t sure, but the fear lingered in his trembling hands. He listened to the squeak of the bedsprings as he shifted his weight to sit on the side of the bed. He lowered his feet to the bare wooden floor, preparing to stand up. He rubbed his face on the sleeve of his ratty under shirt and willed his mind to work. Outside the night was still dark, with only a sliver of light from the moon shining in through the window. His eyes adjusted enough for him to find the oil lamp and matches on the table beside the bed. He lifted the globe, struck a match, and touched it to the wick. The flame flickered for just a moment before it grew steady. He replaced the globe and sat staring at the flame as if searching for an answer for several minutes.He leaned over to the foot of the bed and retrieved his old worn boots, and slipped them on. The fire had burned down to just a few glowing embers while he slept. I might as well go on and build a fire since I’m up. No point in tryin to go back to sleep now. He rose from the bed, grabbed the old flannel shirt from the bedpost, and started outside. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sound of wolves howling nearby. He reach for his gun, propped beside the door as he stepped out on the porch. Just around the corner. Get some wood, and get back in the house. Nice and easy, now. He strained his ears to listen a moment before he crept to the corner of the house, poked his head around it, making sure nothing was there. He grabbed an armload, and hurried back to the door. Once back inside the house, he slammed the door and locked it behind him. He laid the rifle on the table and carried the wood over to the fireplace and laid it down. He poked around in the ashes a little before he added some paper and wood. When he was satisfied, he took a match from the holder on the mantle and struck it on one of the rocks. He tossed it onto a wad of paper and watched it roar to life. It lit the one room cabin in an orange glow as it warmed his chilled bones. Pulling out a hanger from inside the fireplace, he hung the coffee pot to warm last night’s leftover coffee. Once it was warm, he poured a cup and sat down at the table. He tried to focus on what had woke him, but his mind was still a little clouded. He was sure that it wasn’t the wolves howling since they had been calling to each other over the last few months. He had gotten use to it, and most nights he never paid much attention to it anymore. Steve Ellen Lester was in danger of drifting back into sleep when a knock on the door made his nodding head jerk upright. Instantly he was alert. The knock came again. "Who's out there?" he yelled through the door. A high-pitched, quavering voice answered in long, drawn-out words, "The ghost of Christmas past...." Lester yanked open the door. "Sully, you old trickster! You're about ugly enough to be a ghost!" His prospector friend, Sully Rickenbacker, limped into the room. "I was getting an early start when I saw your light. You're up mighty early yourself." "Couldn't sleep. You want some coffee, don't you?" "Sure enough." Sully poured himself a cup and sat down at the table with Lester. "I'm going all the way up the canyon today. I reckon I won't be back until tomorrow." "You be careful up there, old man. You notified your next of kin?" Sully cackled. "I reckon you're about the only human that knows where in the world I am. I just wanted you to know which direction to look if you missed seeing me around for a couple of days." "Maybe I better come with you." "Don't you have things to do?" Lester sat down his coffee cup. "Nothing that can't wait. Maybe I envy you your active lifestyle and I want to learn how to do it myself." "Prospecting, you mean? It ain't hard. I'll show you everything I know. It would do you good to have a goal in life. A man needs more than just eatin' and sleepin' to keep him going." "That's what brought me back to Rosebud," Lester said. "Because I sure didn't find nothing to live for in the city." "What about all them fancy women?" "They were fancy all right. If you have money then they take a fancy to you, but when the money is gone then so are they." "Twas ever thus," Sully said. "Well, get your things together, then, and let's head out. It's already starting to get light out." By noontime they had walked seven miles up into the canyon. They picked around among the rocks with Sully explaining what a gold vein looked like but he couldn't show one because there was none to show. At the end of the day they built a campfire and spread out their bedrolls. Sully puffed on his old pipe. "Well, once again I have hit nothing. I must be the world's worst prospector." Lester was lying on his back with his hands behind his head. "But you had a few hits in the past, eh?" "Oh, once or twice, but that was just finding nuggets in the stream. You gotta follow the stream back up to where the nuggets were washed out of the rock. And no matter how much I do that I can't seem to find the source." "Maybe somebody just tossed those nuggets in the stream." Sully shook his head. "Don't say that, boy. That would be the cruelest trick to play. Make a man think he was on the trail of treasure. And then there be nothing there. Nothing at all." Sully sighed. "Them stars up there are really twinkling tonight." Jane Dough-Beater, MIA They stared up at the stars in silence for awhile, lost in their own thoughts. When Lester did drift off, his sleep was troubled by unimaginable creatures and events. He was forced from his nightmares by Sully shaking and screaming at him."Lester! Wake up!" In his still foggy mind, he reached for Sully and pulled him to the ground, and moved his body on top of him. Sully was in such shock that it took a moment for him to register what was happening. A big fist hit him in the side of his head, bring him back to his senses. He grabbed Lester by his stringy hair and pulled him away from him. With his other hand he smacked him across the face in an attempt to bring him out of his unconscious state. Lester's eyes snapped open, and he began to take in his surroundings, noticing Sully lying on his back underneath him. "What happened?" "You were having some sort of nightmare, I reckon." " I don't remember even dreaming about anything. Why are you lying on the ground?" "When I tried to wake you, you attacked me. I suppose I should be a little miffed considering you knocked me a good one upside my head, but I don't think you were yourself." "I'm sorry about that Sully. I don't know what happened." "That's alright. No harm done. While we're up, want some coffee?" Lester nodded and touched the bruise that was forming on his left cheek. "Hey, Sully. How did this happen?" he asked, pointing at his face. "I had to get you awake somehow, didn't I." Lester sipped his coffee and tried to figure out what was happening to him. He's never had any problems sleeping, but it seemed that for the last couple of nights, he wasn't getting much sleep at all. Something strange was going on, and he was determined to find out what it was. A small part of his dream slipped into his mind. I didn't make any sense as he set there trying to remember more of it. All he could remember was flashes of fire and screaming. In his dream it had felt like the most horrible thing imaginable, but during the light of day, it was easy to dismiss it as just a dream. He shook his head, trying to clear out the nightmare. It doesn’t matter. It was only a dream. He sat up against an fallen tree and sipped on the cup of coffee that Sully handed him. When the sun began to rise in the horizon, they packed up camp and headed further up the stream, stoping here and there to check for gold. By nightfall, they were nearing a high waterfall. The water rushed from a cave that had been cut into the side of the mountain by its force. Sully took out his pan once again and headed into the water. He scooped up a pan of dirt and rock, and sifted it through the screen. Steve Ellen All morning they panned for gold until their backs ached and their enthusiasm waned. "Well, that's that," Sully said. "No gold here. We might as well head back to town. I don't relish sleeping another night in the open. Especially considering you and your nightmares." "Sorry about that," Lester said. "I don't know what's wrong. Every night I been having bad dreams, something about a fire." "Maybe it's that precognition stuff. You know, dreaming the future." Lester shrugged. "I never dreamed the future before. I don't know why I should start now." "Maybe you got hidden powers. I saw this movie where they built their house on an old Indian graveyard and all kinds of ghosts and spirits rose up right through the house." "What's that got to do with my dreams?" "Nothing, I reckon. Does everything have to be about you?" Lester laughed. "I hope not. So you want to eat something before we head back?" "More beans and bacon? I forgot how bad the oldtimers ate." "I like beans and bacon." They sat around for another hour, enjoying the clear blue sky and fresh air, drinking a last cup of coffee. Then they headed back to town. It would be almost dark before they got home. All afternoon they hiked down the canyon until they reached the last mile. The sun drifted down below the hills and then suddenly it was dark and the air became much cooler. Somewhere nearby an owl was hooting. "What's that glow coming from the direction of town?" Sully said. Lester sniffed the air. "I smell smoke." Jane Dough-Beater, MIA They looked at other wide eyed for a moment before they threw off their packs and took off running towards the town. With a little over a half a mile to go, Sully cried out in pain, and fell forward, barely stopping himself before his face slammed into the hard ground. From beside him, Lester heard a muffled crack when he landed.“Sully, are you alright? “Course I’m not. Don’t you see me laying here with my face in the dirt?” “What happened?” “Darn if I know. I think I tripped over something. Shine a light over here.” Sully tried to push himself up to his knees, but let out a loud moan and collapsed back to the ground, holding his right wrist. “What’s wrong, Sully?” “I think I broke my wrist when I fell. Help me up, will ya?” Lester grabbed him around the waist and pulled him to his feet. He shined the light on his wrist. it was already starting to swell, and a small piece of bone was sticking out of the skin. “We need to get you to the doc.” “Not so fast sonny. I want to see what I fell over first.” “It’s probably just a rock sticking out of the ground.” “You know as well as I do, there aren't any rocks in this area. Shine that light down here.” Lester shined the light at the ground where Sully pointed. He didn’t see anything, so he moved it around the area until he saw something reflecting the light. They both bent over to get a closer look. “What’s that?” Sully asked. “I don’t know.” Lester reached down to touch it, and Sully grabbed his arm. “Are you crazy? Don’t touch it.” “Why? It just looks like an old rusted box of some kind.” “But what’s it doing out here? Look at those markings. They aren’t human.” They both got down on their knees to get a closer look. It was about the size of a shoebox. Strange marking covered the top and sides. Lester shined his light around them looking for something to move it with. He spotted a stick laying a few feet a way. He reached over, grabbed it, and began to poke at the box. He tried to push it with the stick, but it wouldn’t move. He scratched around the edges to see if it might be stuck in the ground. A loud boom echoed through the sky, catching their attention, and making them both jump. The smell of smoke had gotten stronger while they had been concentrating on the box. They both looked towards the town and saw that the flames were getting bigger. “We’ll leave this for now. I’ll mark this spot and we can come back at first light and check it out. Right now we need to go see what’s going on, and I just might need that doctor.” Lester helped Sully back to his feet, and they started towards town again. This time they were forced to move at a slower pace. Steve Ellen The entire town of Rosebud was in flames. Firetrucks from distant communities were still arriving, but it was too late to save most of the buildings. Lester grabbed someone's arm and asked, "What happened?" "A meteor hit the town! We heard it and I actually saw it because I was outside! What a sight!" There were some injuries and Lester helped Sully get over to an area where ambulances were parked and waiting. The paramedics got to work on Sully right away. Lester walked around helping wherever he could. Most of the buildings were wood and the fire was consuming them completely, including Lester's house. Oh well, he thought. It wasn't like he had a lot of stuff to lose, just some clothes and old rickety furniture... and his books. He regretted losing the books but they could be replaced. When dawn came, Lester was sitting on a hill just outside town with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. The ambulances were gone. There was still one firetruck remaining, but the town was mostly a bed of smoldering ashes. The first rays of the sun struck sunbeams through the smoke hanging over everything and made silhouettes of the few parts of buildings that were still standing. He decided to make a trip to the hospital and see how Sully was doing. When he got there there was a woman with Sully. "This is my sister Marla," Sully said. "I ain't seen her in twenty years. Can you believe it?" Marla was a competent-looking older woman. "I saw it on the news about the meteor. Sully can live with me while he recovers." She patted Sully's cast. After chatting with them a while, Lester said good-bye with the feeling that Sully was in good hands. "I suppose I should go find another place to live," Lester muttered to himself. He went to the bus station and bought a ticket on the next bus out. It always helped him think to be traveling on a highway with someone else doing the driving. But while he was waiting to get on the bus he remembered the iron box that had tripped Sully. He couldn't leave without checking that out. The ticket seller grumpily refunded his money and Lester got a ride back to the burned-out town of Rosebud that he once called home. He walked out of town and found the spot where the box had been... but no box. Carefully he searched the ground for tracks and concluded a man wearing boots had dragged the box a short distance, then apparently gotten into a vehicle. Lester walked back into Rosebud. Right away he spotted an old gray Ford Explorer. The sides were covered with dust. When he peeked in the back window he saw the box. "Looking for something?" said a voice behind him. Lester turned around quickly. "I was just curious about that box." "Curiosity killed the cat." The man was tall and mean-looking, with a pock-marked face burnt brown by the sun. He was dressed in black, even a black hat." "Have you looked inside it?" Lester asked. "Don't be a dead cat," the man said and got into his SUV and cranked it. Lester's curiosity was burning brightly about the box and also he had a sense that really the box was his since he found it first. But also he was surprised that he cared so much. He had no idea what the box was. It just seemed important. But there was nothing he could do as he watched the cowboy dressed in black ride off with the box. Lester got a ride back to the bus station and bought another ticket. "Are you going to get on this bus?" the ticket seller asked. Jane Dough-Beater, MIA It took a moment for it to register that the song ‘Hell’s Bells’ was coming from his cell phone lying on the night stand beside his bed. Half awake, he looked at the number glowing in the ID box before he hit the send button to answer.“I have a job for you,” came the deep voice on the other end. “And?” “I need it done immediately. A messenger will delivering the information any minute now.” “What makes you so sure I want the job?” “I know you, Rafe.” Before he could reply, the connection was cut off. He put the phone back on the stand, got out of bed, and went to the bathroom. Just as he started to piss, there was a knock on the door. Damn. That’s the second time I’ve been interrupted in the last 5 minutes. They better hope this isn’t some bull shit mission. He pulled on yesterday’s pants as he walked to the door. He didn’t have time to fastened them before he grabbed the handle and jerked it open to reveal a scrawny looking boy of about sixteen standing on the stoop. Sizing him up, he saw a large brown envelope in his hand. The boy reach it out to him, turned and hurried down the steps before Rafe could get his mouth open to say anything. He closed and bolted the door before he headed to the kitchen for a cold beer. He threw the envelope on the table before he opened one from the fridge, and drunk half of it down in one swallow. He guzzled down the rest of it and grabbed another one before he sat down and opened the envelope. Now that his nerves were beginning to calm, he slid the pages out and glared at them. The first one was a topical map of the town of Redbud and the area surrounding it. There was a red circle drawn just outside it’s limits with a note stating the distance from it’s border to where he needed to go. On the second page was a cryptic note. Go to the spot on the map. You will find a box there with markings. When you have the box, leave by the north road out of town and I will contact you with further instructions. Time is of the essence. Hurry. Rafe folded the map and put it in his pocket, the letter he ripped into pieces and burned. He finished getting dressed before he jumped into his truck and headed to Redbud. He arrived in the early hours of the morning. When he got there, the town was smoldering and in ruins. He turned off his headlights as he exited the town in order to avoid being noticed. As he drew closer to his destination, he stopped the truck and go out holding a flashlight. Shining it around the area, it only took a few minutes before the light reflected off of the box. He walked over to it and looked down. Steve Ellen As the bus ate up the miles, Lester gazed out the window at the desert. He hadn't even bothered to find out where the bus was going, but he knew it had to be somewhere. Buses didn't go nowhere. They always went somewhere. Lester sighed. He couldn't stop thinking about the box. Now he was regretting not making more of a scene about it. He should have fought the man in black for it. But that was just daydreaming. Probably a good way to get himself shot. Or put in jail as a thief. But the box was rightfully his! Why did he feel that so strongly? After waking from a nap, Lester got off the bus, on impulse, in a little town called Hogwash Flats. It wasn't much bigger than Rosebud, but Lester had a feeling about it. He was depending a lot on his feelings lately. Maybe he should try to be more rational. First of all, he needed a room. The Hogwash Flats Hotel was a three story tall brick building with six rooms on each of the upper two floors. The price was cheap and the room was clean. Lester showered and stretched out on a bed. Now what? He had never felt so rootless and adrift in his life. The only goal he could think of worth pursuing was finding his box. Because that was how he thought of it now - his box. He dressed and went down to the hotel bar for a drink. He posed a question for the bartender: "You ever met a cowboy who wears all black and drives a grey Ford Explorer?" Surprisingly, the bartender had a helpful answer: "Sounds like Rafe Caldwell. You a friend of his?" "Not exactly a friend," Lester said. "I just got some business to settle with him. Is he around?" "Oh, he don't live in Hogwash. I don't know where he lives. But he's got a girl here. I've seen them together a few times." "What's her name?" "Alice Fogarty. I suppose you want to know where she lives?" Lester downed the last of his drink. "Yes, I do, if it wouldn't be asking too much." With the bartender's directions in his head, Lester walked in the direction he had been pointed until he came to Mrs. Trumbull's rooming house, a two-story, white-painted home set back from the street with a small green yard and a nice old shade tree. Alice Fogarty rented a room there, but she wasn't home. Jane Dough-Beater, MIA Nudging the box with his foot, Rafe felt it move a little. He went back to his truck and took a shovel from the back. Returning to the box, he used the shovel to break up enough of the packed earth for him to get the shovel head under a corner. He pried and chipped away at the hard earth until he felt it give way and flip out of the hole. Picking it up, he swiped at the loose dirt, and studied the markings. “What in the hell is this?” he asked himself, knowing that he didn’t have the answer.Picking up the shovel up, he carried both objects to the truck. He stowed the shovel back in the trunk, and set the box in the backseat, and covered it with a jacket. He drove back into town and stopped at the diner. Out of all of the wreckage from the fire, it was one of the few building that had escaped unscathed. He sat down at the bar and glanced at the menu while he waited for the tall blond to come and take his order. “What can I get for you?” Rafe heard the boredom in her voice, and looked up. His eyes traveled up and down her body, at least to her waist anyway, before they settled at her eyes. “I’ll take one of you, to go.” He flashed her a toothy grin and a wink. “Sorry, mister, I’m not on the menu.” The smile on her face didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, you should be.” “Well, I’m not, so if there is something you want from the menu, I’ll be happy to get that for you.” She was beginning to get aggravated. It had been a long night, and she just wanted her shift to be over so she could go home and prop her feet up. Sensing her growing impatience, Rafe gave up and ordered his food. When she brought it over to him, he wolfed it down, paid the bill, and left. As he walked over to his truck, he saw a man standing beside it, looking through the back window. He confronted him, and the man claimed that the box belonged to him. Not wanting to get tied up in a dispute that could involve the law, he climbed into the driver’s seat, and headed north. About three miles out of town, his phone rung. He wasn’t surprised that the screen showed his boss’s name. He hit send, but before he could open his mouth, his boss was already speaking. “Did you get it?” “You know I did. Have I ever let you down?” Rafe could hear his excitement through the phone as he replied. “Not yet, but there’s always a first.” “Just tell me where you want to meet.” “About ten miles further down this road is a turnoff that leads to a deserted factory. The road will be a little hard to find in the dark, so keep your eyes open for it.” Steve Ellen As Rafe drove he wondered what was in the box that was making everyone so excited. Suppose it was the cash from a bank robbery? Or maybe it was box filled with diamonds? It could be worth a million dollars. And he was just going to hand it over to the boss. Why not take a peek inside first? He could claim the lock was already broken. But then, if the box WAS filled with valuables then how would he explain the lock being broken and the valuables still inside? Oh wait, that's right. If it was filled with valuables the boss would never get to see the box because Rafe would be on his way to Mexico. He pulled off onto a side road that looked lonely enough. He sat on the tailgate of his SUV with the box in his lap. Probably a hammer and a cold chisel would take care of that lock. Or he could attack the hinges. But what if there was nothing in the box that he could use? Then he would have ruined his standing with the boss for nothing. He would be not only broke and out of work but quite possibly hunted by the organization for double-crossing them. It was a dilemma. And he didn't have much time to make up his mind. Break open the box or not? Lester Ely sat in the front yard of Mrs. Trumbull's rooming house waiting for Alice Fogarty to come home. The day progressed, the sun set, and still he waited. She couldn't stay away forever. If she wasn't back by midnight he would give up. But a small car pulled up and a young woman stepped out and thanked the driver for the ride. She was wearing jeans and a black cowboy shirt. Her blonde hair was done up in a ponytail. He wondered if she had been at work. She had that look of someone tired from a day's efforts but happy to be home at last. "Alice Fogarty?" Lester said. She looked startled for just a moment but apparently decided Lester wasn't too threatening. "Yes?" she said. "I understand you know a man named Rafe Caldwell?" She paused and Lester could sense her guard going up. He shouldn't have jumped right to it so quickly. He should have given some explanantion for his presence, some kind of cover story, but he didn't have any experience at this sort of thing. "It's alright," he said. "I'm not a bill collector or anything like that. Uh... he and I were buddies a long time ago and I've been trying to locate him." "Do you want to know where he lives?" "Yes," Lester said, and grinned. "That would be real helpful, ma'am." Jane Dough-Beater, MIA Still suspicious of Lester, she tried to buy time before answering.“He’s not home right now, Mr....” “Ely. Lester Ely. If you could just point me in the right direction, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me waiting for him.” “Well, Mr. Ely, the thing is, I don’t know when he’ll be back. When I spoke to him this morning, he said he would be gone for a few days.” “Did he say where he was going?” “No. Just that he would see me in a few days. With him, it could be weeks. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.” “Well, thanks for your time Miss Fogarty.” “When I hear from him, do you want me to let him know you came looking for him?” “No. That’s alright. I was kinda hoping to surprise him. I’ll come back some other time.” Lester left Alice standing on the front steps looking after him as he walked down the street. Now what am I going to do? There’s no way I’m going to get my hands on that box. As Rafe sat stroking the smooth surface of the box, His finger slid across a seam on one of the sides. Exploring it with his finger, it felt like a small square set in the middle of it. He grabbed his flashlight and shined the light on the area, examining it. He probed it with his finger, and it moved beneath his finger. He pressed down on it and waited to see what would happen. Within moments, he was surrounded by a bright light. Shielding his eyes from the glare, he tried to see where it was coming from. Fear raced through him at the thought of being found sitting there holding the box. His boss would really be pissed that he hadn’t delivered it right to him. What a frigging idiot I am. I knew better. From above him he heard the sound of metal scraping against metal, then the clanging of what sounded like chains being unrolled. It ended with a loud clatter as it hit the highway. The bright light faded, and he was able to see through the spots that it had left in his vision. He saw two shadows standing in front of what looked like a ramp in the middle of the road. Following it up to where it ended, he froze at the sight of the saucer like object that seemed to float above it. He caught movement in his peripheral vision, and looked at the area in front of him. The figures moved closer. He began to pick up bits and pieces of gibberish. Fear grabbed hold of him, and he bit back a scream as he realized what his eyes were seeing. Lester spotted a car rental place just down the road. His only option was to head back to Rosebud and try to pick up his trail. He thought that his bet would be to take the long way around and enter the town from the north end. For some reason the direction just felt right to him. Steve Ellen Rafe tried to run but he couldn't move. He was paralyzed. Panic filled his mind. Was he going crazy? He felt himself lifted up by some kind of force and floated into the saucer. His thoughts raced. If he could only scream, but he couldn't move a muscle. He was stretched out on a metal table and his clothes removed. Now he could see his captors clearly. They had grey skins and big black eyes. Most horrible was they didn't seem to have any mouths or ears or hair. Just that smooth grey skin that had a texture like rubber. With what little bit of reason he had left, Rafe wondered if the aliens were wearing suits of some kind. When his body was turned over, he realized he was going to be "probed". He thought about how he had always thought people who claimed to be abducted by UFOs were crazy. Now he was one of them. Either this was happening or he was crazy. He didn't know which seemed more likely. As soon as he felt the first touch of the cold metal probe he began screaming in his mind, a desperate silent scream that no one could hear, but within Rafe's skull it was loud and reverberating and drowned out everything else. Lester rented a Ford Focus and headed down the highway to Rosebud. It was peculiar how he seemed to be living on instinct now. Just doing what "felt right". He knew it was because of the box. Somehow it had changed his life. And yet, he had no idea what was inside of it. He barely got a look at it. He shook his head rufully. Strange the turns a life can take. There was glow in the sky up ahead. Not another fire, Lester thought. Jane Dough-Beater, MIA As he rounded a curve, he saw a pool of light shining down on the road. Following the beam, he noticed a large disk like shape hovering in the air. He stopped and stared for a moment before he looked around. Up ahead he spotted what looked like the truck he had seen the box in earlier. No one seemed to be around, so he got out of his car and walked around the edge of the light. He couldn't explain why, but he knew he didn't want to step into it.The ground beneath his feet vibrated from the energy that surrounded the area. When he got closer to the truck, he still didn't see anyone. He checked all around the vehicle before he stopped and looked into the back. Setting on the tailgate was the box. He reached in and picked it up, feeling the weight in his hands. When he held it up in front of his eyes, the box began to glow around the seams. As if by instinct, his finger sought out the button and pressed it. He heard a loud roar like a tornado, and felt the wind blowing all around him. He looked up and saw leaves and other debris circling the spot where he stood. His mind barely registered what was happening until the box opened, folding itself down in his hands. A bright light filled his eyes, blinding him for a moment, before it faded to a small dim light that filled the object inside. He felt mesmerized by the swirling colors, almost hypnotized. He felt one of his hands leave the box and reach for the stone. When he picked it up, a shock went through his body, holding him in place for a moment before it settled into a dull vibration. When he closed his eyes, he saw scenes and images flashing across his eye lids. In that moment he saw everything. The beginning of time, and what was yet to come. He turned toward the light and saw a figure standing in the center of it. It beckoned for him to come closer, and his feet began to move in that direction. He stopped in front of it, and when it spoke, it sounded far away, yet its mouth never moved. He focused on it and soon realized, as it began to sound closer, that he was hearing it in his head. Steve Ellen It was repeating a phrase over and over that Lester couldn't quite decipher. It sounded like cauliflower power hour now our tower... followed by some jumbled syllables. There was also a buzz associated with it, an annoying buzz that made it difficult to think. Suddenly Lester had the intuition that the being was trying to control his mind. He wanted to run away but made the horrifying discovery that he was paralyzed. Panic swelled up in his mind, a black mindless panic of fear and horror. Lester slowly opened his eyes. The hard ground dug into his back. He slowly sat up. All around him was the desert at night. He had no idea where he was or how he got there. He remembered the light and the box and the figure... but he must have passed out. And now he was here. Wearily he got to his feet. He scanned the horizon and noticed a dim glow so he headed in that direction. Hopefully the glow was from the lights of a town or at least a ranch or something where he could make a phone call. As he trudged along he searched his memory trying to recall exactly what had happened with the light and the figure in the center of it... Jane Dough-Beater, MIA Chills swept over his body as he continued walking. The light seemed to dim and brighten, making it hard for him to determine the how far away it was. His head ached and his legs threatened to buckle under him causing him to have to set down and rest.I just need to close my eyes for a moment, he thought. He stretched out in the still warm sand, letting it ease some of the stress and tension from his body. A wolf howled in the distance causing him to jerk. When he opened his eyes, the sky was beginning to lighten. I must have dozed off. Feeling a little better after his sleep, he stood up and looked around. There wasn't anything as far as he could see in any direction. He searched the hard ground for signs of the direction from which he came, but find anything. Nothing around him looked familiar, so he slumped to the ground defeated. As he sat there trying to figure out what to do, a shadow stretched past him. When he looked up, the outline of a person stood above him blocking the sun. He put his hand to his forehead to shade his eyes from the bright light so he could get a better look. "Who are you?" Lester asked. "I was about to ask you the same thing. How did you get here?" "I don't know. Do you have any water you can spare?" "Sure." He handed Lester a bottle and scanned the area. "There's a place that I know that's just a couple of miles that way," he said pointing in the direction that Lester assumed was north. "I think I may have saw lights over there last night. It looks like it may be where I was headed before I passed out." © Copyright 2011 Jane Dough-Beater, MIA, Steve Ellen, (known as GROUP). All rights reserved. GROUP has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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