The Myriad Resistance (34 page)

Her semisolid luminescent sheen faded to an opaque outline, her features growing fainter by the second. It was as if she was slowly fading out of existence.

“Mom, Dad … what is happening to me?” a faint, otherworldly voice called out in a pitiful plea.

Barbara and I made one more attempt to embrace our daughter, but it was no use. Abbs was gone.

Falling to my knees, I cried out in anguish. I felt a piece of my soul tearing away. We held on to each other as we huddled in the floor and mourned the loss of our daughter.

I never noticed that Derek, Andrews and Dr. Winder stood in the doorway and witnessed the whole thing. They went outside and conducted a fruitless search for Abbs. At least Derek and Andrews searched. Dr. Winder turned on the radio in the kitchen and listened to the news reports. The doctor let Barbara and I mourn as long as he dared before he came back to the room. He could not wait any longer because the situation was too grave.

“Cecil, you need to come listen to this,” he said as he helped us off the floor.

It took a while before I could summon the courage and the energy to accept Dr. Winder's invitation. Dr. Winder helped her up and escorted her to the bed where he helped her to lie down. He returned and pulled me to my feet. My body felt heavy and it was a struggle to get up. I followed him down the stairs as if in a trance. I slumped into a chair at the kitchen table as he turned the volume up on the radio.

The announcer sounded like the same one who interviewed the general last night. It was difficult to tell because so many people from television moved over to radio. The government handpicked most of them. I think what made his voice hard to discern was the fear and panic it resonated in spite of his attempt to subdue it; his voice was rapid and shaky.

“Since this cosmic storm entered Earth's atmosphere almost three months ago, there have not been any significant changes … well, that has changed today.”

He paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

“The color of the sky has definitely changed in this hemisphere. That is to say every place on the planet where it is currently daylight and …” he continued with newfound giddiness, “it appears that all the Impals have disappeared or are disappearing as we speak.”

“What did he have to be scared of?” I thought to myself. It sounded to me that the government, aka - my father, was getting exactly what they wanted and this person was their mouthpiece. My question was about to be answered.

“One moment. ladies and gentlemen … I am receiving some new information,” he said then the radio was silent for over a minute. Whispers and shuffling papers could be heard in the background.

“What is happening?” I asked.

He frowned and stroked his chin before responding.

“I would guess the eye of the storm has moved over us.”

“The eye?” I asked, incredulous. “You mean like a hurricane?”

“In a way … every storm, whether terrestrial or cosmic has a definite shape and a defined center. We were able to measure the size of this storm and its possible duration. Like the storms composition, we have no idea what kind of energy is in the eye …” he trailed off with a troubled expression on his face.

“What?” I asked.

We had discussed this one morning by the lake. It now completely slipped my mind. He decided to share some new information with me. Information he selectively omitted in our prior conversation.

“Well … the eye should not have arrived until at least two years from now, according to NASA's calculations. Not many of their calculations or guesses have been right.”

“What if this isn't the eye, what if the storm has passed completely?” I asked.

Dr. Winder shook his head.

“Impossible! If the storm passed completely, I would think the sky should be normal again.”

“How can you be sure?” I asked. “This is uncharted territory for everybody.”

Dr. Winder gave me a hardened stare for several moments, and then I saw the confidence melt from his features. He knew I was right. Before either of us could carry the conversation further, the announcer came back on the radio. He cleared his throat and smacked his lips. He seemed uncertain on how he should deliver the new information.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are receiving reports from several journalists worldwide. One from a journalist in Turkey, and another in Beijing, China,” he said, clearing his throat.

“We advise everybody to stay inside until further notice and keep as many lights on as possible, Awar Habib reports from Istanbul.”

Again, there was a long pause and another deep breath.

“The accounts we received from numerous sources state … and I quote …
the very darkness seems to be a living thing, a malignant entity that engulfs and torments anyone it encounters. It is as if a shapeless and faceless devil occupies any area devoid of light.”

The announcer again cleared his throat.

“Folks, take it for what you will. It is nighttime right now in Turkey and in China.”

The sound of shuffling papers rustled again.

“The report coming in from China tells a similar and more disturbing story,” he said. “The report from Boqin Zhu reads as follows:
the darkness is a conscious yāomó, thriving anywhere there is absence of light. I have witnessed many people outside my window writhing about in agony as the dark engulfs them, dragging them away to God knows where. Stay inside, stay in as much light as possible because even the shadows are domains for this horror, if not the horror itself.
^”

There was a long silence before the announcer spoke again.

“My producer tells me that yāomó roughly translates as an evil entity such as a demon or fiend, I …” the announcer was suddenly interrupted as a horrific scream erupted from the speakers.

I couldn't tell if the shriek came from him or someone else in the studio. It was followed by bangs and then the shattering crash of breaking glass. The voice of a woman began to wail with desperation.

“Turn on the lights! Someone turn back on the lights!” she screamed.

Earsplitting screams vibrated the speakers. My stomach churned and my flesh crawled as I listened to this. Then, as fast as it started, it stopped. There was no static, no test tone indicating the station was off the air, only eerie silence.

Dr. Winder and I stared at each other in disbelief for a while then I shook myself out of my trance and bolted outside. The cabin had a number of windows facing every direction. With the curtains opened, there was plenty of light during the daytime; however the woods were a different matter. The cabin rested in an old forest with gargantuan trees that provided a sprawling dark canopy in several places.

My first glance was overhead. The sky was the same as it was a few minutes ago. An instant later, my gaze was drawn to the forest … into a very dark area about fifty yards to my left. I was standing in a bright wide beam of sunlight so I screwed up my eyes to peer into the darkness. I felt like a clammy hand stroked my spine; my hair stood on end and my heart began to hammer. Even though I could not see anything tangible, I knew without a doubt something was there. Something was watching me. Whatever it was, it was waiting for the darkness to spread into my circle of light so it could pounce. I could not see anything other than the dark. What I was experiencing was more or less a feeling. It was the most certain feeling I have experienced in my life.

Staring into the blackness among the massive tree trunks, I could have sworn I saw eyes watching me. Dozens of pairs moving rapidly from tree to tree like burning coals. It was only a glimpse, and then it was gone.

I was startled when a deer wandered into the dark area. It approached with caution, sniffing the air. The instant its nose penetrated the darkness it was as if an unseen hand grasped it by the snout and flung it to its back. The terrified creature bellowed and kicked its legs in desperation as it writhed on the ground. After several agonizing moments, it managed to spring to its feet and dash away through the forest. It was as if the darkness spat it out. The poor animal bumped into trees and underbrush as it ran, panicked and confused.

I started to back away, several scenarios playing through my head like a movie on high speed. I glanced over at the generator humming away beside the house. It was our only source of electricity … how much gas did we have? The road approaching the house was full of gloomy shade.

I was about to ascend the steps on the porch to discuss our predicament with Dr. Winder when I experienced a horrific sense of déjà vu as another scream erupted from the house. This time it was Barbara. I glanced up at our bedroom window and saw the drapes were drawn. Barbara was up there … alone … and in the dark.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you God for all I am and all that I will be. I will always do my best to put you first in everything.

Thank you Andrew Bequette, LK Griffie, and Aimee Mimms for your invaluable editing. You helped make this book shine.

Thank you Michael James Canales for another incredible cover.

Thank you to my family, friends and agent for your unwavering support.

And finally, a huge thank you to everyone who read book one and asked me, “What happens next?” This book would not have happened without your desire for more.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

The characters in this book are composites of real people but they are not intended to portray specific individuals.

Copyright © 2015 by John D. Mimms

Cover design by Michael J. Canales

ISBN: 978-1-5040-2803-5

Distributed in 2015 by Open Road Distribution

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