Authors: John D. Mimms
I took a deep breath and headed toward the hangar to carry out my amended plan. I was scared as hell, but I would do anything for Seth. I started out walking at a good pace, my heart hammering against my ribs liked a caged bird. I took special care not to jostle my cargo until it was time. Unfortunately, that time was closer than I realized.
Just as I cleared the group of trees, I saw a sight that made my heart stop. There was a large paved tarmac in front of the hangar, probably at least a quarter of a mile long, full of Impals all lined up in straight lines with their necks and hands bound with iron. They were being marched slowly toward the hangar. It was happening already.
I couldn't see Seth or Major Garrison anywhere, but that did not deter me. As disturbing as this sight was, it actually made my plan so much easier. I started in a sprint toward the hangar, yelling at the top of my lungs. I pulled a grenade out and waved it crazily in the air. I had no intention of pulling the pin, what was the use? There were probably other “shredders” elsewhere.
I had gotten about ten yards from the hangar when it felt like two huge fists punched me in the back. I sprawled forward, and then got to my feet to continue my stampede, but something was wrong, or maybe a better word is something was right. Something had definitely changed. I looked in my hand that had been carrying the grenade: the grenade was gone. But even though I had planned this, knew what must be done, it was still a shock as much as it was a relief. The hand holding the grenade was devoid of any weapon, but it glowed with the same ethereal light as Seth and all the other Impals I had encountered. It was actually a pleasant feeling, nothing hurt and I felt more alive I think than I ever have. I looked down and saw my lifeless body, blood pooling from two large gunshot holes in my back. There was no doubt what I was now. You know, I thought I would have regrets, but strangely enough I didn't.
I felt oddly at peace even as the soldiers slapped the iron around my neck and wrists then dragged me rudely toward the large group of Impals a short distance away. Yes, it was very uncomfortable, but I was able to shut it out with the peace of knowing that I had done what I had to do. I couldn't stop what was happening, not even with Major Garrison's help. I could have blown up the machine, but another one would have been brought in eventually with more security, and they would still carry out their plans of ârelocating' Impals. I would have just prolonged the inevitable. It may sound crazy, possibly even horrific to most, but I had achieved my objective. The only real objective I could see that would help my son. I thought briefly about Father Wilson's visit. I had not committed suicide any more than a soldier does when he is killed in battle. I had accomplished the same result but I was still awake.
The soldiers started to march me to the back of the line, which must have been a good half-mile long with only a foot of separation between each Impal. It was truly incredible; the scope of this terrible undertaking and that just increased the horror of it that much more. We had made it maybe 50 yards from the back of the massive line when we were met by Major Garrison. He was leading Seth on an iron leash like a dog, but at least he was being gentle.
I had gotten close enough to see Seth's exhausted face light up at the sight of me when an MP jeep screeched to a halt and two officers got out and threw Major Garrison to the ground. I heard a sickening crack as his nose met the tarmac. He was handcuffed then jerked to his feet. His face was blood-soaked due to his shattered nose, but he stood and looked at me for a few moments with a great look of satisfaction on his face. I think he would have saluted me if he had been able to. The moment didn't last long because he was quickly marched to the jeep and shoved viciously in the back. He made a single plea as one of the officers started to lead Seth away from me.
“For God's sake, that's his father! For the love of God, let them be together now!”
His words came out distorted and suppressed, due to copious amounts of blood in his throat and a broken nasal cavity, but the sheer earnestness and command left little doubt of what he was asking. The soldier leading Seth away turned and looked at the two soldiers escorting me. He shrugged and nodded his head for me to follow. I was rudely thrust forward and the lead soldier took both of our chains and led us to the far side of the line where we were placed like cattle going to slaughter.
I guess Major Garrison had been an honorable man after all, at least a lot more so than his father. I said a silent prayer for him, but then I turned my attention back to Seth and that's where it would remain until we entered the hangar and on to relocation or ⦠permanent death? I didn't know but I firmly pushed that thought aside because it would do me no good to dwell on it, not now.
It is truly amazing being an Impal. There are no physical infirmities to speak of. My back has not been completely pain-free for years. The iron was uncomfortable, and I guess that is to be expected since it is the only known substance that can restrain an Impal. I think the best thing is that this is the first time since our adventure started that Seth has felt normal to me. No icy touches, no arms or feet going through me; it was like he felt before ⦠well, when Ann was still here. I cried a few silvery tears of mixed joy and sadness when I squeezed Seth tight and when I thought of my absent wife. Would I possibly see her again ⦠waiting on the other side of the Tesla gate?
We were at the hangar door before we knew it. It seemed like it had only been a few minutes, but in actuality it had probably been an hour. The shredder was not hard to identify. It was a large arched opening in the middle of the room, about 20 feet high. The cold steel construction seemed almost symbolic of its cold purpose. Electrical arcs flicked like lightning between the two sides of the arch, making the opening seem like it was filled with bluish snow from a dead TV channel. I had the stupid thought of wondering if TV signals were working again, but that thought quickly disappeared as I saw a group of five Impals goaded through the arch.
Electricity arced momentarily on their iron constraints and then with a loud clang, the iron hit the ground and the Impals were gone. A metal grate in the floor opened to collect the discarded restraints and then closed back, ready to accept its next victims. It made me think of the trap door on a gallows.
I held Seth's face close to me so he couldn't watch. I talked to him about everything I could think of, told him how much I loved him, and we were going to take another trip. I felt like the same misleading jerk that I had been before, with all the promises I had made but never kept. We weren't going on a trip, but what else could I tell him? What happened next shocked me into silence. Seth may be naïve about some things, but he is also very perceptive. He reached over and squeezed my neck, kissed me on the cheek, and whispered in my ear.
“It's okay, Daddy, I love you, too. Thank you for taking me to the moozem.”
At that moment I felt a gentle tap in my back from one of the soldiers. I turned and looked to see him staring at me with a sallow expression.
“It's time,” he said in a voice barely audible above the crackle and hum of the Tesla gate.
I grasped Seth more tightly and slowly stepped forward. I didn't look at it but kept my eyes firmly focused on Seth. The hum and buzz grew louder and louder with each step. I started to feel a tingling sensation in my side closest to the arch like a part of me was slowly dissolving. It didn't hurt, but it was not enjoyable either. I closed my eyes, hugged Seth as tightly as I could, and stepped into the arch.
My plan had worked because I knew it was impossible to rescue Seth and for one man to stop what was happening. The very least I could do was to make sure that Seth was never alone again. Besides, I just don't think I could live without him again. It
was
the only foolproof plan. Whatever fate lay before us, we would be together â father and son.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to express my gratitude to the people who have supported and encouraged me over the years; to all those who provided support, talked things over, read, wrote, told me when my writing stunk, and also told me when it soared. These people are listed in no particular order; they have each had a significant hand in my development and without them this book would have not been possible.
I want to thank my wife, Aimee, who supported and endured me in spite of all the time it took me away from her. It has been a long and difficult journey for us.
I would like to thank my parents, Jerry and Kaye Mimms, for believing in me and encouraging me to follow my dreams, also for instilling in me a love of literature and reading.
I would like to thank my sons, Tyler and Luke, for giving me authentic insight to the father-son relationship, which is the heart of this book.
I would like to thank my fellow writer and good friend Marie D. Jones for all of her support and guidance; she is a truly generous and selfless person.
I would like to thank my fourth grade teacher, Marilyn Larson. A refrigerator box converted into a magical wardrobe served as the entrance to the reading area in our classroom and my imagination.
Special thanks to my agent, Italia Gandolfo, for seeing the potential in my writing and giving me my first âyes,' which every aspiring writer hopes for.
Another special thanks to my publisher, Premier Digital Publishing, for giving me a chance. And thank you to my editor, Ann McKinley.
Last and not least: I beg forgiveness of all those who have been with me over the course of the years and whose names I have failed to mention.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John D. Mimms is a business owner, paranormal researcher, and author. Mimms served as the technical director for the Arkansas Paranormal and Anomalous Studies Team (ARPAST). During his four-year tenure with the organization, he helped supervise over one hundred investigations and wrote more than sixteen technical articles. One of his articles, titled “A Christmas Carol Debunked,” was read live on Parazona Radio by Paul Bradford of Ghost Hunters International fame. Mimms also wrote the ARPAST technical/training manual, which is a comprehensive guide on equipment usage, investigation protocol, and scientific theory for paranormal research.
In 2009, Mimms decided to couple his knowledge of paranormal phenomena with his lifelong love of literary fiction. His titles include
The Great Keep, Death Theory,
and
The Lemonade Girl
. He is currently working on book two of the Tesla Gate trilogy.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook 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.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by John D. Mimms
ISBN 978-1-4976-6298-8
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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