Going Gray
Going Gray
Brian Spangler
Copyright © 2014 by Brian Spangler
An early version of the
Going Gray
short story appeared in the anthology, From the Indie Side.
This novel includes all three books:
Going Gray
,
Into the Dark
and
Inside Out
.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
ISBN-10: 1494797925
ISBN-13: 978-1494797928
DEDICATION
To my friends and family for their love, support and patience.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
While working on this short story, I was aided by several individuals to whom I wish to offer my immense gratitude and appreciation. Thank you for reading many drafts of this story, and for offering critiques and encouragement. As always, your feedback has helped to shape the story.
To David Gatewood, Don Shope, Kay Bratt, Lisa Akers and Krista Slavin for providing invaluable feedback, and helping me recognize the potential of the story.
ALSO BY BRIAN SPANGLER
A Contemporary Fiction
An Order of Coffee and Tears
— Friendships, romance, secrets and forgiveness center around a cozy mystery.
A Thriller and
Supernatural Suspense
Going Gray
— Story of a family on the run, a family trying to survive a global catastrophe
.
Superman’s Cape
— A grim tale of a boy lost in a forest that holds everything he is afraid of.
Some Sci-Fi, Dystopian Thrillers and
Anthologies
From the Gray Skies Series
Gray Skies
— Gray Skies Series Book 1 — As a bonus, the first chapter of
Gray Skies
is included at the end of this eBook.
Blinded By Sight
— Gray Skies Series Book 2
Union — Gray Skies Series Book 3
From the Indie Side
From the Indie Side
— An amazing collection of short stories by a dozen of the top Indie authors!
From Hugh Howey’s World of Wool
Silo Saga: Lottery
— What happens when there is one too many mouths to feed?
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.
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Going Gray
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And it isn't just about the free stuff. I'm always looking for readers and opinions on cover designs and book formatting. There is no better way to work the finer details of a story than to have a few dozen eyes giving me feedback. I tend to reach out to a sizable group, so don't be surprised if you receive an email from me inviting your help.
Happy Reading,
Brian
ACCLAIM FOR GOING GRAY
“Grips you from the start and doesn't let go.
Going Gray
is hard to put down.”
Jason Gurley
- Bestselling Author of
Greatfall
.
“Captivated me from the first page with its intensity... a gripping read!”
Jennifer Jaynes
- USA TODAY Bestselling Author of
Never Smile at Strangers
.
“Brian Spangler has taken the terror thriller in a new and exciting direction with
Going Gray
, and he had me turning pages the whole way.”
Michael Bunker
- Bestselling Author of
Pennsylvania
.
“A haunting tale that will stick with you long after you've read the last page.”
Kate Danley
- USA TODAY Bestselling Author.
Going Gray
BOOK I
I
GRAY MORNING
“Emily… I need you
to wake up.”
A stir.
“Come on now!” a voice cracked.
The warm touch of someone’s hand.
“Huh?” she muttered.
Someone nudged her, squeezing her shoulder until she moved.
“What?” Groggy and disoriented.
“Emily! Girl, it’s an emergency!”
Reluctantly, her eyes swam dully in a sliver of fuzzy dim light. She found the outline of a familiar figure standing over her.
“Mom?”
“Come on, Emily. You have to get up. We have to go, now!”
Emily peered over to her bedroom window and tried to focus. The night’s blackness encouraged her to go back to sleep.
“It’s still early… and teens need more sleep, anyway. ’Kay?”
Another shake came then, harder, pulling the sleep out of her.
“What, Mom?” Her voice sounded scratchy, caught in her dry throat. “What is it?”
“We’ve got to go. There’s something wrong… terribly wrong!”
Emily heard the sound of panic and something clicked inside her, some terrible notion. Thoughts of her father immediately came to mind. She searched the darkness, frantic.
Something’s happened to him?
But before she could ask, her mother yanked back her blanket. Cold air rushed over Emily’s bare legs. Her teeth chattered while she rubbed away the slumber in her eyes.
“Emily, I need you to move!”
“Mom?” she asked. She was awake now, and her voice shook with worry. Her mother stopped and let the blanket fall to the floor.
“Mom, is it Dad? Is Daddy okay?”
“I’m fine, but we have to go!” her father answered. She turned to see his tall silhouette against the light splintering through her bedroom door. “We need to get to the car. I don’t think the house is going to last much longer!”
Another storm?
Emily swung her feet over the edge of her bed and stood up. She gripped the carpet, squeezing her toes. As the lure of sleep loosened its hold on her, she shook off the early chill and realized that she needed to pee. Storm or no storm, whatever the emergency, it would have to wait until she was done. Emily glanced at her window again.
“How early is it?”
“Almost morning,” her mother answered, throwing loose clothing onto her bed. “We need to get moving!”
Must be a storm.
That would explain everything.
It’s an evacuation
, she concluded, and recalled the time when she was nine and they had to pack some things and hurry to the big shopping mall for safety.
Somewhere above her bedroom ceiling, Emily heard a crash. The sudden sound made her flinch. She didn’t just hear it, though—she felt it. Then a second crash came, dropping something even harder. She felt it rumble across the floor and into her feet.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Emily, it’s the house!” her father answered sharply, and then continued to shuffle what was in his hands before packing it away. He stopped a moment, and looked at her with firm eyes. “Listen to us, and get moving!”
And that’s when Emily realized what she wasn’t hearing: there was no wind, not even a breeze. Living near the beaches, she was accustomed to hearing the rough surf, especially when a seasonal storm came through. But now, she heard neither the rush of air nor the pounding of the waves: the outside was eerily silent. She should have heard
something
. What about the morning seabirds?
Two more thumps. But these came from below her window, outside. A neighbor? The sound of a car door creaked open and then closed, followed by the slamming of a trunk lid. A voice came next, escalating to a yell, telling someone that they needed to hurry it up. Another car door opened and then closed. Emily began to understand that whatever was happening, it was happening to everyone; the neighborhood was awake and in motion.
A scream came then, cutting through her bedroom. She jumped. Her mother cupped a hand over her lips while her father’s mouth fell open. The voice had a throaty and raw sound, tortured, and her body went cold as the hairs on her arms sprang to life. She exchanged a frightened glance with her mother and then looked over to her father.
“Daddy, what was that?” The first scared tears pricked her eyes. “Momma, why did someone scream like that?” Her father raised his hand, shushing her, and then waited. For a minute they just stood in her room, listening. Garbled sounds, wet and drowning, came next. The person tried to yell out, but to Emily, the voice sounded marred and deformed. The few words that she could make out were something about not leaving the house—
Stay inside!
—and then the shouting ended abruptly, punctuated by the crumpled sound of someone falling. Silence followed. Her father’s hand stayed in the air.
“The car never started,” her father whispered, talking to himself more than to her or her mother. “They never made it into the car. So strong and fast. Very fast.”
“What do you mean…
fast
?” Emily asked. “They could still be alive—we can help them!” But she knew what she’d heard. It was the sound of a body collapsing onto the street outside their home.
“No we can’t,” he answered, his voice subdued and in a near-whisper. He lowered his hand and leveled his eyes. “We can’t help anyone but ourselves now.”
“But they’re right outside!”
“Never mind them, Emily!” Her father spoke with a hard, scolding tone. “Hurry and get your things together!”
Emily bit down on her lower lip, hurt by her father’s stern voice. She rushed past her parents, keeping her head low and her sight fixed on the floor. She said nothing more as she crossed the hall. Another scream came from outside, slowing her step. The sound was thin and distant, but as real as the first. She picked up her feet, as if to run from the screams. Emily closed the bathroom door, trying to shut out the horrid sounds. What nightmare had she awaken to?
