Curtain Fall: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 1)
Authors: Kenneth Cary
Tags: #Children's Books, #Religion & Spirituality, #Self-Help, #Dreams, #Children's eBooks, #New Age, #Spirituality
copyright © 2013 Kenneth Cary
All Rights reserved.
ISBN: 1507696671
ISBN 13: 9781507696675
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013951063
Kenneth Cary, Bremerton WA
OTHER TITLES BY KENNETH CARY
Lamp Black, The Gatekeeper, Book Two (Second Edition) Compass Call, The Gatekeeper, Book Three
Email:
[email protected]
Website:
www.cerberusap.com
Blog:
www.lightprep.wordpress.com
Facebook: Curtain Fall, the Gatekeeper & Cerberus Preparedness
DISCLAIMER
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the authors’ imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Please consult physician before attempting to replicate anything in this fictional account.
DEDICATION
To my wife, for her true love and belief in me. To my first Father, a loving man who is not all weights and measures. And to my dad, the man who keeps me straight.
CONTRIBUTIONS
Kim Cary, Editor
CHAPTER INDEX
(
Excerpt from Lamp Black, Book Two, the Gatekeeper Series)
J
ohn saw that he was walking down a narrow alleyway between several tall buildings. But there was something strange about the alley-way, and it took him a moment to realize what it was. The alley was more like a tall hallway, for it lacked the common elements found in most big city alleyways. There were no dumpsters, or trash, or any of the other features common to such damp and dark quarters. It even lacked the customary odor of waste and decay.
Being in an alley void of detail didn’t concern John. He had seen stranger places. He was much more curious than concerned or afraid. The buildings around him were several stories tall, but even they were sterile, having no windows, doors or ramps. He felt as if he was standing in a deep urban canyon. John looked for anything that would tell him something about when and where he was. There was no detail in his alleyway, and barely enough light to differentiate corners, let alone know where the buildings touched the ground, but he continued to walk, eager to find an exit.
A faint shadow crossed his path and he looked up. At the top edge of the building on his right, a person, a dark and distant figure, stared down at him from high above. John saw that the figure had short hair, which meant it was probably a man, but he could make out no other details. He paused and prepared to call out to the man, when suddenly several more heads appeared on the adjacent rooftops. At first there were only a few heads, but then there were many; heads of men and women, more than he could count, were now staring down at him from above.
John felt the weight of their blank and silent stares. It was as if he was some kind of curiosity, or an intruder. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he shrugged it off and continued down the alley. It wasn’t like he had any other options anyway, but the alley seemed to have no end.
Without realizing it, John quickened his pace to a jog. It felt good to be moving faster. It seemed to give him purpose, make him feel less vulnerable and more in control of his life and environment. He squinted his eyes, searching, longing for the end of the alley. All he wanted was to be clear of it, of the oppressive feeling that filled the air around him. John heard a loud crack and stopped, then another, and another.
John jumped with surprise as a large rock crashed to the ground next to him and exploded into small fragments. He immediately looked up and saw other rocks, of all shapes and sizes, falling to the ground around him. The people on top of the buildings were dropping, some were even tossing, their rocks down into the alley. They didn’t seem to be aiming for him, but that perception didn’t make him feel any better. If just one of the rocks hit him on the head, it would mean lights out, maybe even for good.
He managed to avoid the larger rocks, but winced when the smaller ones hit his back or shoulders. John felt they weren’t attacking him, but that didn’t make his passage any easier. To him it looked like they were throwing away their trash, or perhaps ridding their shoes of troublesome sand.
Unsure about what it all meant, and not wanting to stick around and think about it, he covered his head with his arms and quickened his pace. The rocks continued to pop and clack on the ground at his feet, but for the first time the alleyway began to show character, and for that he was grateful. The rocks and rock fragments displayed the alleyway in better clarity, but they also made his footing less sure.
When a rock about the size of a quarter hit John’s shoulder, he cursed, and then immediately picked up his pace. He needed shelter, and as dangerous as it was to run on the cluttered and uneven rock strewn surface of the alleyway, he began to sprint. John stumbled a few times,
but managed to catch himself before he fell. In moments, he was away, and free of the falling rocks. He paused to look behind him, and saw that the people were no longer above him. They disappeared as quickly as they appeared.
Relieved, he turned and continued his journey down the alley. John wondered how far he had traveled, and how far he would yet have to travel before he was out of the alley. With no end in sight, he turned his attention to the alley floor as he picked his way carefully through the rocks. The scene reminded John of pictures he had seen of the surface of the moon, and with no rocks falling, it was as quiet as the moon as well.
Suddenly, he came upon what looked like a large rock sitting in the middle of the alley. When he approached it, he saw that it was actually a pile of rocks, one stacked atop the other to form a very neat pile that came almost to his knees. At the bottom of the pile was a large rock about the size of a baseball glove, and then there were rocks, of progressively smaller sizes, stacked upward, with the smallest being about the size of a golf ball. The pile looked delicate, but it was also perfectly balanced and very stable.
Not knowing why, John knelt and began to count the rocks. There were sixteen all together, but he didn’t know what to make of it. The pile reminded him of a trail marker, but how or why it came to be stacked in the alley was beyond him. He was just happy the rocks were no longer falling on him.
He stared intently at the rock pile, lost in his thoughts, when a mild breeze caught his attention. John stood, hoping to catch the wind’s direction of travel - that it would tell him something about his exit - but it was gone. He began to walk again and noticed a single heavy flake falling from the sky in front of him.
John opened his palm to catch the flake, and watched as it landed in the center of his hand. He touched the flake with a finger and watched as it crumbled away into a fine gray powder. It wasn’t snow. He looked up to see more of the heavy flakes falling, and they were descending like a curtain, and beginning to coat everything around him.
Soon the air was filled with the thick gray falling snowflakes. They literally blotted out the sky. With his visibility reduced from yards to feet, John pushed cautiously forward. A flake landed on his lips and he instinctively licked it away. A sour, gritty paste formed in his mouth and he quickly spat it out. His mouth, now tasting of vinegar and soot, demanded some water.
With the thought of water, he reached down and opened a metal canteen from his belt. The cap pinged off the canteen’s side as he first poured water into his palm to wash away the ash. What poured out of the canteen was little more than slimy gray mud. He dropped the canteen to the ground and cursed again.
The heavy flakes continued to fall around him, coating him and everything around him. The accumulation, suddenly up to his ankles, completely covered the smaller rocks, and formed smooth gray curves over the larger ones. The alley definitely looked lunar under the gray blanket of settled ash, and John struggled to understand what he was seeing. The gray flakes even clung to the walls of the buildings, and once again inhibited his depth perception.
Tired, but not willing to stop, John thought he saw a thin sliver of light penetrating through the falling flakes. He picked up his step, hopeful and eager to finally be clear of the alley. As he continued, the light grew clearer and brighter, but he held his emotions in check.
John felt like a drowning man reaching for a lifeguard, and stumbled forward at a shuffle, kicking up clouds of ash as he moved. He refused to yield to fear, to panic, and not to hold on to false hopes. The journey had to eventually end.
As John moved into the light, the gray flakes became smaller and smaller until they were little more than a sprinkle of fine gray dust. He coughed once, and pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth. He blinked back the gray dust, and rubbed his eyes to keep them clear, not wanting to lose sight of the light ahead.
