The Reaping by Scott A. Cook

The Reaping by Scott A. Cook

“Ley Line: an imaginary alignment of landmarks that are believed to have spiritual, mystical or paranormal significance.”— Alfred Watkins, Archaeologist, 1921

“Never shun the power of the earth. It will right itself when the time comes.” — Chief Eagle Run, Shawnee Tribe, 1957

“Mystery not certainty. All are welcome to enter the Circle of Conjecture.” — Arc of Appalachia Preserve System

Beneath the quiet community of Fenton Grove in Adams County, Ohio, there is a power of unimaginable force. It runs in alignment with the mysterious Serpent Mound, an ancient snake-like structure 1,348 feet long, built by the Fort Ancients during the Early Woodland period.

Folklore calls the power a ‘ley line’. Scientists disclaim it. Townsfolk ignore it. A few, however, do believe. Like Hank Boulder.

Hank held all the stories of his Native American elders close to his heart, just as his mother had taught him. As a young boy, Hank’s granddad professed time and again that The Fort Ancient people had built Serpent Mound as a celestial calendar with cosmic alignments, counting down to the opening of an interdimensional portal.

“When will the countdown end?” said young Hank, “A portal to where, Granddad?”

His granddad would remove his glasses and look off in the distance as if waiting for the answers to young Hank’s questions to materialize. His eyes would squint and after a few moments, he would turn back to Hank.

“No one knows, Hank. Mystery, not certainty, surrounds us every day but only if you have eyes to see.”

The answer was always the same. Ominous, foreboding, downright scary.

Young Hank prayed he would never find out in his lifetime.

#

The two sets of bleachers in the town square of Fenton Grove were full to bursting. Patriotic banners, ribbons and flags decorated the spectators’ seats, the stage down front, and the hotdog girls. Everyone had some sort of American flag or gadget. Waving, shouting, participating. Veterans Day. A grand, All-American holiday tradition that made Fenton Grove’s community so special.

Fourteen-year-old Ethan Cooper was squashed next to his mother on the top row of the left bleachers. He didn’t fully understand the depth of Veterans Day but he felt proud dressed in blue docker pants, a white polo shirt and red suspenders that he had picked out himself from A & L Fashions. The sky was a perfect robin’s-egg blue but it was unusually hot for November. He was fanning his face from the heat with his patriotic ball cap and swiped his hand through his short brown hair, pushing back a line of sweat.

“Do you see him?” said Ethan. He was looking for his dad in the crowd.

“Not yet. Be patient,” said his mom as she patted his leg. Good dog, thought Ethan and chuckled to himself.

The ceremony had not officially begun but the anticipation of honoring the Fenton Grove veteran soldiers was almost at fever pitch. And this year, two new soldiers, who just happened to be in town visiting family in the Grove, were invited to the celebration.

“He’s gonna miss it,” said Ethan. “He does this all the time.”

Ethan’s mother grabbed his cheeks in a loving manner and looked right into his sparkling hazel eyes. “Stop it. Ok? Control.”

Ethan took a deep breath and calmed himself. He was constantly anxious, wanting everything around him to be in perfect order. His father was a non-stop challenge. He thought sometimes he tested him on purpose.

Ethan looked at the clock on the gray stone tower beyond the bubbling stage of honored guests. Three more minutes until noon then the celebration would begin. There would be glittering confetti, a balloon release and the Jasper High School brass band playing Yankee Doodle Dandy, probablya little off key. Ethan looked down at the stage.

Mayor Joy Sanders was talking with the veterans who looked a little uncomfortable from all the ecstatic public praise, as if they were a museum exhibit. A special, one-day only, work of art.

Two minutes to noon.

Ethan scanned the crowd to his right and finally saw his father on the ground, struggling with a few bags of popcorn, three hotdogs and two large sodas from the hotdog girl. His dad loved these community affairs. He believed in connecting with neighbors. To Ethan, it just meant more dad time.

One minute to noon.

Ethan looked over at his mom. She always dressed for summer regardless of season and today was no exception. A sweet, yellow summer dress patterned with sunflowers and daisies. She was whispering to Janey Gordon, the town gossiper. That could only mean one thing: mom wanted something spread far, fast and wide.

Lexington Carter was in the middle of Ethan’s bleachers. He couldn’t tell but he thought she was alone; no parents. Lexi, as Ethan called her, was an intense, precocious, survivalist geek he loved being around. His bestie. She was one year younger than him, always had her blond hair up in a high ponytail and dressed the part of tomboy, no matter what anyone said. She was the biggest little adult he’d ever known. Not like a girlfriend or anything like that. Just a friend.

“Hey, Lexi,” said Ethan though cupped hands, loud and proud.

She turned.

“How ya doin?” said Ethan in a contorted, heavy New Jersey, Italian accent. She smiled. Their own private greeting that meant all was good. Maybe even great.

“Never better,” said Lexi with the same bad accent, waving her hands. Ethan smiled and replied.

“Never bet …”

Ethan choked on the last word as he felt it. A low rumble running through the ground. The bleachers shook a moment then it was gone. He looked around at the screaming crowd. At Lexi still smiling at him. No one looked unsettled. Your imagination, he thought to himself. Control. Simple control.

“Never better,” Ethan said as he smiled and finished his greeting. He looked to the tower clock.

Thirty seconds to noon.

Ethan’s dad was climbing the bleachers through the unyielding crowd, hanging on to his food with tight hands.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please rise and help me countdown our celebration of these amazing men and woman,” said Mayor Sanders. The microphone on her podium squawked a touch of feedback. The bleachers exploded as the entire audience stood with more cheering and stomping, ready to count. Dad almost tripped.

The veterans behind the mayor walked up to meet her on either side of the podium, waving American flags and mouthing “thank you” to the audience. The band played Yankee Doodle Dandy loudly against all the cheering and yelling.

The low rumble came again, this time bigger. Far behind the bleachers, wet earth exploded upward, showering mud all over trees and parked cars in the east field. Ethan turned around in time to see a thick, nightmarish line of yellow glowing energy rising out of the earth. The energy line smashed down upon the ground, moving north toward the main road that led to the ceremony.

“Five, four …”

“Mom …”

Ethan grabbed his mom’s arm to run as the monstrous entity skidded and back tracked, heading straight for the bleachers at incredible speed.

“Three, two …”

“Mom, look!”

“Honey, stop.”

Ethan panicked and jumped off the back of the bleachers, rolling across the dirt. He flipped onto his belly and covered his head, unequipped for the unthinkable.

“One!”

The audience exploded with cheers. The brass band blared. Confetti and balloons burst in air. And the glowing monster smashed against the back of the bleachers with unimaginable force, slicing right through them like jelly. Cheers turned to screams as bodies were thrown high into the air, holding flags, holding hotdogs, showering the crowd with popcorn. The bleachers rocked and swayed as bodies crashed down like rag dolls on metal seats. Rivers of blood shot all over people who were stampeding to escape, crushing others beneath them. The sound of metal scraping against metal was ear-piercing.

The mayor screamed as the line of glowing energy drove through the middle of the stage destroying the podium, the floor and one older veteran, Sergeant Elaine Codder. Other veterans fell backward, smashing into their chairs, tearing down glitter curtains and patriotic decorations.

The band members in front of the stage disappeared into the yellow energy mass, one by one. Two young veterans rolled forward, jumped off the stage and grabbed the tuba player’s arms. They struggled then fell backward as her arms detached from her body and blasted blood onto them like a wild garden hose.

Ethan stood, shaken from his jump. The glowing line sped away from the town square. Circling, hunting, trapping.

Lexi. Where was Lexi?

Ethan ran around the side of the bleachers. Lexi, covered in blood, was crawling on the grass, away from the crumbling metal and wood. She saw Ethan, stood and ran to him. They grabbed each other in a massive hug. Lexi pulled away first.

“Oh my God, what’s happening?” said Lexi.

“A line. A glowing line. Out of the ground. Straight at us.” said Ethan. He was out of breath but relieved Lexi was next to him. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

More deep rumbling came as the earth buckled and rippled like water. Explosions in the distance. And then, the diabolical happened.

All the adults who weren’t dead stood straight up, staring with hollow eyes, climbing over debris and dead bodies. They were searching.

From the top bleacher, a man grabbed his wife by the back of her hair, pulled a hunting knife from his ankle and gutted her with ease. Her entrails splattered two screaming children in front of her. She smiled and dropped back into the bleachers, bouncing off the mass of bodies.

“Ethan, watch out!” said Lexi.

The man with the hunting knife jumped from the bleachers, holding his bloody knife to his chest. He landed face down as the knife pierced through his heart. Blood shot up in a geyser. Lexi screamed. Ethan panicked.

“My mom and dad,” said Ethan. “Please help me.”

They ran around the back of the bleachers, crawling through the crushed middle where the glowing monster had split through. They saw nothing but flesh hanging from broken metal, the dead and dying just smiling. Ethan and Lexi looked up.

“Dad, no!” cried Ethan.

Ethan’s dad took a long piece of broken, twisted metal and sliced open his wife’s throat. She smiled into the sun as blood gushed from her neck in spurts onto her sweet summer dress. Satisfied she was dead, his dad drove the metal into his skull and fell backwards into the writhing mass, smiling.

“Ethan. Ethan, we have to go,” said Lexi.

She grabbed his hand and ran back toward the stage. The mayor would know what to do. The two children rounded the bleachers, running blind. Suddenly, Lexi pushed them both to the ground hard.

The veterans on the mutilated stage each had a handgun aimed right at Mayor Joy Sanders. Without a thought, bullets ripped through the front of her body, decorating the veterans with shreds of blood and flesh. She fell smiling. No fear. One by one, each soldier turned their gun on themself, blasting a bullet under the chin, dropping to the broken stage in perfect harmony. All smiling.

When the fire storm stopped, Ethan and Lexi stood up, both dazed and confused which way to escape.

“This way,” said Ethan. He started to run toward the west parking lot. Lexi jerked him back and pointed. Her eyes were wide.

Out of nowhere, the glowing line exploded from the pavement of the west parking lot, aiming straight at the town square. Cars and trucks flew up in the air as it passed through the ground. A rain of vehicles came down upon several children who were hiding, exploding flames and metal shrapnel, devouring every one of their screams. The monster kept moving toward the town square shoving fiery cars ahead of it, igniting a blaze of crushed metal, trees, decorations, bleachers and dead bodies.

“Move. Now,” said a deep, unrecognized voice then Ethan was literally flying. Someone had grabbed him around his waist and was running.

“Lexi?” said Ethan.

“I’m here,” said Lexi.

“Shut up and hang on,” said the deep voice carrying Ethan.

The rumbling sound got louder. It was chasing them.

“Faster, Ziggy,” said the deep voice.

“Stu. Dude. We’re at top flight.”

Deep voice – Stu. Second voice – Ziggy. Stu and Ziggy.

The two men ran with unfathomable energy, dragging the kids away from the blazing destruction and towards safety. It felt like a boot camp obstacle course. Blasting through bushes, dodging right and left, trying to stay off the streets. Ethan couldn’t see anything but thank God for Stu and Ziggy.

The rumbling shifted, moved and became a roar. It was closing in on them.

“Down this street,” said Stu.

The group turned a hard right and the men bolted forward with increasing speed.

“Oh, shit,” yelled Stu.

“Dude,” yelled Ziggy.

Stu and Ziggy smashed into something solid, stopping sharp. Ethan and Lexi tumbled to the ground. A metal handle rattled then Ziggy bashed his shoulder into a door.

“It won’t open,” said Ziggy.

“Kick it in,” said Stu.

“Oh my God, hurry,” said Lexi.

“We are working here,” said Ziggy.

“Jesus Crackers,” said Ethan.

“Everybody shut up!” said Stu.

Both men slammed their bodies against the door. The wood frame cracked and they fell inward. The children went airborne again, dragging feet.

A house. They were in a house. Stu and Ziggy put the children down on the rug. A couch was overturned.

“Behind this,” said Ziggy.

Another couch went upside down. Chairs, tables, shelves, pillows. A small barricade near the front window. Stu crouched down in a defensive position, ready to fight. Ziggy followed suit.

For the first time, Ethan saw the two men who had saved them. Military uniforms. Veterans from the ceremony. Coats ripped open, sleeves up, war zone ready. Ethan grabbed Lexi and pulled her close.

“They’re military,” said Ethan. Lexi let out a deep sigh.

“We might make it,” said Lexi.

“We will make it,” said Ethan.

The earth growled. The house shook. The curtains of the front window fluttered and glowed. Ziggy peeked out the window.

“It’s coming right at us, Stu. What do we do?” said Ziggy.

“Everybody, drop and cover. Stay low no matter what,” said Stu. His voice was loud and commanding.

Ethan grabbed a couch blanket. He covered Lexi and himself as he pulled them both to the floor. Lexi was shaking and crying.

“I got you, Lexi,” said Ethan.

“Brace for impact,” yelled Ziggy. He dropped from the window, hands over his head.

Smashing. Roaring. Glowing. Growling. Plaster cracked. Wood shattered. Everything falling. Ethan prayed. Lexi cried. Stu and Ziggy shut their eyes tight.

Then nothing. Nothing at all.

#

Ethan peered out of the blanket, followed by Lexi. Ziggy sat back with a thump. Stu crawled to the front window curtains to look out. He paused then with one motion, he swept both curtains open.

The glowing yellow line had risen to the height of the house as if it would consume it. Instead, it was swirling its energy mass like a slug across the window glass.

“We’re gonna die,” said Lexi.

“It would’ve already happened. Probably,” said Ziggy. He lay on his back and stretched out.

Stu dared to tap on the window. The glowing line moved towards his hand. He brushed the glass right to left. It followed. Up and down. It followed. Without warning, the entire energy mass filled the window then pulled backward. It slithered over the front lawn, securing itself to the street road then blasted through the tar and dirt, heading west away from the house.

“It’s gone,” said Stu. He collapsed against the overturned couch and huffed a huge breath of relief. He was a tall, lean man. Clearly in shape. He rubbed the dark scruff on his face and kept breathing into his hands.

“Who are you?” said Lexi. Ziggy raised his hand from the floor.

“Corporal Ziggy Stardust.”

“Stagdun,” said Stu raising his face from his hands.

“Stardust. Look it up.”

“I’m Sergeant Stuart Porter. Now who have we saved?” He pointed at Lexi.

“Lexington Carter. Everybody calls me Lexi. Well, Ethan here calls me Lexi. We’re just friends. Honestly.”

Ethan raised his hand, his cheeks blushed, his eyes like a puppy. “Ethan. Obviously.”

Stu laughed. “Well, you can call me Stu. That’s what Ziggy here calls me,” then went for the joke, “We’re just friends. Honestly.” Everybody laughed. Momentary relief.

“I’ve never seen you guys around the Grove,” said Lexi.

“We don’t live here,” said Stu.

“We’re the walking dead. Apparitions from another world,” said Ziggy as he made scary ghost sounds.

“Dude,” said Stu, smacking his leg.

“Too soon, Sarge? Sorry,” said Ziggy.

“I came here to visit my family,” said Stu. “All the way from Camp Perry.”

“I tagged along,” said Ziggy.

“When we got here, my dad really wanted us to participate in the Veterans Day stuff. And here we are.” Stu smiled half-heartedly, wishing he and Ziggy were back at their base up north.

“911. We need to call 911,” said Lexi. Everyone pulled out their cell phones and stared at their screens.

“No service,” said Stu.

“Nothing,” said Ethan.

“Nada,” said Stu.

“Nope,” said Lexi. “Damn it!” She threw her cell phone across the room.

“What is that thing?” said Ziggy.

Stu, Lexi and Ziggy started speculating about the glowing mass. Ethan was only half-listening. He was looking around to see if anything in the house looked familiar. The moose head over the fireplace did it. He stood up ecstatic.

“Oh my God, it’s Mackie’s house. This is Mackie’s house. His dad has guns. Lots of guns and other killing stuff. In the basement,” said Ethan.

“Let’s go, Stagdun,” said Stu as he pulled Ziggy off the floor.

“Stardust. It’s Stardust. Look it up,” said Ziggy.

The two soldiers moved with purpose, looking for the basement door.

Ethan started to follow but Lexi did not get up. She sat with her knees to her chest, head down. Ethan walked over and joined her on the floor. He touched her hand. Lexi looked up, her eyes wild and full of tears.

“Come on, Lexi. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

“My parents?”

“I …I don’t know,” said Ethan, shaking his head. He moved to hug her and she collapsed onto him, sobbing. He held her and pet her hair until no more sobs came. Lexi looked up at him. Her eyes had changed. Survival.

“We can’t stop that thing out there,” said Lexi.

“Yes, we can. We have help.” Ethan hoped Stu and Ziggy were already deciding what weapons to use against the glowing thing in the earth.

Lexi stared toward the front window. She was thinking. Organizing her survival skills.

“Please, Lexi. We need to go help them.”

The ground rumbled. Lexi got up quick. She seemed stronger now. Determined.

“Let’s go,” Lexi said.

And then she was running.

#

Ethan was right. The backside of the basement held a treasure trove of weapons: handguns, shotguns, military assault rifles, smoke bombs, hand grenades and a few homemade weapons that looked like they could pulverize a rhino. All neatly arranged by firepower and double locked behind glass cabinets.

“No time for niceties,” said Ziggy and glass began to fly.

Stu handed out weapons, even to Ethan and Lexi. He doubled up on Ziggy and himself. He knew this thing, whatever it was, might separate them. Or take them. Or vaporize them. Everyone needed a chance to fight back.

“Ever fire a gun?” said Stu to Lexi.

“Shootin’ range twice a week. Blue ribbons. Adams County – Best Shot of the Year, Teen Division. Two years running,” said Lexi as she shored up an imaginary target.

“Yeah.” Stu turned to Ethan. “You?”

“No,” said Ethan. Stu went straight into weapons training mode.

“This is an extended magazine. It goes here and locks in place. You’re already loaded with 33 rounds. That means …”

“I get it,” said Ethan. Lexi looked over, smiled at him then winked. If she only knew what that did to him.

Stu paused and considered the young boy. It might have been him in another time. Would he have been as brave as Ethan? Probably not. He had learned bravery the hard way.

“Extra mag,” said Stu handing it over. Ethan took it and shoved it in his front pocket. Stu tussled his hair. He was proud. He sensed these kids were fighters. He knew a fighter when he saw one.

“What exactly are we doing?” said Ethan. He was scared inside. He couldn’t wipe the picture of his parents dying such violent deaths. Somethings can’t be unseen.

“Looking for survivors. And help,” said Stu.

Stu turned Ziggy backward, arranged his weapons better and gave him a pat. “Let’s move out,” Stu said. “I’m point.”

Ethan looked to Lexi, who finished prepping her weapon. He felt like they were marching to their death. No hope of surviving. Hope. His mind lingered on that word.

They tromped upstairs, a small but mighty group. Stu stopped at the broken front door. His commands were clear.

“Stay together. Eyes up. Whisper. Don’t give it a reason to come back.” Stu took a breath, adjusted his weapons and opened the battered door.

No one was prepared.

#

The sky had turned solid black with charcoal gray clouds swirling in every direction. Ash fell lightly. The first snow of the unexpected apocalypse.

The four warriors maneuvered down the mangled side walk of Mackie’s house, heads turning in every direction. Stu stopped at the curb of the lawn and looked back to Ethan. With no words, Ethan pointed them west onto the ripped-up road.

The glowing monster had destroyed Hamilton Avenue. The wreckage ran as far as the eye could see. Trees uprooted, cars flipped over, houses with roofs ripped off or crushed all together. And bodies. Dead and dying bodies.

Adults. All in stages of supreme death by suicide. Self-inflicted and assisted. Hanging from trees with demented smiles. Wrists slit open, bleeding out on their driveways. Gassed in cars. Guttings, stabbings, dismemberment. A few children, in despair or by command, lay next to their parents, all smiling. Gunshot wounds to the head, knife slits to the throat, deteriorating mouths dripping white foam, holding a bottle of cleaning acid and believing some ridiculous notion that God would reunite them with their parents in heaven. Not true.

God had left Fenton Grove.

Stu stopped and looked around at the mass casualty of the dead. The adults all had strange smiles. Why weren’t he and Ziggy dead?

“What the shit happened, Sarge?” said Ziggy close to Stu’s ear.

“Don’t,” said Stu holding a finger to his mouth. “The kids.” Ziggy shut up immediately. Stu shot a look at the two children behind him. Courageous.

“I wanna see my parents,” said Lexi. Her voice was matter-of-fact without waiver. “We live a block over.”

“We can cut through old man Boulder’s place. He doesn’t have any fences,” said Ethan. He knew Lexi needed to find out if her parents were alive or dead. The answer in his heart made him look away.

“Are you sure, Lexi?” said Stu.

“Yes. We have a lot of food in my safe room. Two sets of camping gear in the garage if we gotta run.” She paused and took a breath. “I need to know.”

Ethan felt his heart race and a strong feeling of protection for everyone in their group came over him. His hand drifted to his weapon. This strange feeling baffled him. He wasn’t buff like sports jocks. He was never a leader in student government. He had fought all four guys in the Gruff gang a few times and always lost, some part of him bleeding as a consolation prize.  He was a science and computer geek. Not a military combatant. Enough said.

“This way,” said Ethan. He spoke strong with authority. “I’m point. Put Lexi in the middle.” His words sent an electric shockwave down to his balls.

#

They weren’t at Lexi’s house very long. Just enough time to gather food in back packs, grapple with two tents and cover the bodies of Lexi’s dead parents. She didn’t even cry; just knelt down next to their stabbed bodies, brought their hands together, said a prayer and took off her silver crucifix to lay on top of them.

“Anything else we need to take?” said Lexi as she stood up. Stu shook his head.

“We’re jammin’ here,” said Ziggy, grappling with two backpacks full of provisions, a pup tent and weapons. He was trying to move his assault rifle forward if the glow monster thingy came back.

“Can we leave now?” said Lexi. No one said a word as they moved towards the back door. Ethan came along side Lexi and took her hand. She did not let go.

#

Outside, Ethan took the lead and headed back to Hamilton Avenue by way of old man Boulder’s lawn again.

“Stop,” said Ziggy. His finger went to his mouth. Everyone halted. Stu’s hand moved to his rifle. “There’s a light. Upstairs.” Ziggy pointed up at old man Boulder’s window. There it was; a flickering yellow glow, shining like a beacon of peace against so much death.

“Quiet. Follow me,” said Stu. He reversed to old man Boulder’s back porch door. Everyone followed. They shimmied around metal pails, cat food dishes and a hanging swing.

“Does he live alone?” said Stu.

“I think he does,” said Lexi.

“We’re about to find out,” said Ziggy.

Stu opened the screen door not knowing what they would encounter. More dead bodies? A rogue gang ready for hostages? Or just an old man scared for his life? It was clear whoever was upstairs was alive. The light in the window proved that.

The group crossed through the dark kitchen into the front hall. Stu and Ziggy put down the tents and back packs, prepping their weapons. Lexi took her handgun from the back of her shorts. Ethan did the same. It was dead quiet except for their own scuffling. No movement, no shifting shadows, no old man Boulder. Yet.

As they started up the stairs, Stu’s mind reeled backward. The house was a trigger. Last tour in Iraq. Twenty-one soldiers dead under his command. Five years later, he still couldn’t sleep. This time, with this new troupe, he made a silent promise he would not lose anyone. He would not let fate checkmate him this time.

Lexi stepped and a stair creaked deep.

Stu’s fist flew up. Everyone stopped.

Scuffling above. Metal click. More scuffling. Huff of air. And there he was, standing above everyone. Old man Boulder. Bathrobe, slippers and a double barrel shotgun pointed straight down the stairs.

“Please. Come in,” he said.

#

The upstairs room was small and sparce of furniture. A bed with worn quilts and a single pillow, shoved against one wall. An antique, wooden nightstand with a lamp, bottle of aspirin and a copy of Ulysses that looked like it was bought at a five and dime. The wallpaper of geometric lines and circles was faded to almost no color. A tall bureau stood next to the only window in the room. On it, a thick pillar candle burning bright. French vanilla. The band of travelers pulled up a piece of floor. Rest. Just a moment of rest.

“Hank. Hank Boulder.” The small bed creaked as Hank sat down on it.

“Sergeant Stuart Porter.”

“I’m Lexi. This is Ethan.”

“I’ve seen you before, Lexi.”

“I live behind you. Lived behind you. Corington Ave.”

“I’ve seen you at church. Christmas and Easter,” said Ethan.

“Don’t tell God,” said Hank. They all chuckled. Ziggy, laying on the floor stretching his back, saluted Hank.

“Corporal Ziggy Stardust.”

“Stagdun,” said Stu.

“Stardust. Look it up.”

There was an interminable pause. No one knew what to say next. Hank got up from the bed and crossed to the window. He pulled back the old lace curtains and stared out at the unending blackness that ran all the way to the horizon. He imagined it was probably much further.

“I knew,” said Hank. He paused, almost in shame. “I knew this was coming.”

Everyone sat straight up like little kids hearing a scary story. Hank had their baffled attention.

“My ancestors were the first story tellers of this great area. Some tales true, others made up.” Hank reflected back. “My granddad …his story was preposterous. But he warned me ever since I was a little boy. He told me one day I’d believe in the Serpent Mound.”

 Hank’s eyes filled with tears. “He was right. I’ve kept watch my whole life with no clue what I would do if the clock ran out.”

“‘What-the-actual-fuck?” said Ziggy with wide eyes. Stu punched him in the arm.

“Owww.”

“Mouth, Stagdun,” said Stu.

“Star …”

“Don’t.” Stu’s fist was up again. Ziggy backed down.

“They call it a ‘ley line’. Multiple alignments of landmarks producing energy sources around the globe, causing spiritual, mystical or paranormal phenomena.”

Ethan shifted. His mind had heard this story somewhere.

“Granddad told me there is a ley line crossing through Fenton Grove. It originates far away in Easter Island, passes through the Grove and beyond to Serpent Mound. My ancestors, the Fort Ancients, believed Serpent Mound was connected to the ley line energy and the mound was a celestial calendar with cosmic alignments.”

Hank paused. He looked back out the window. “They believed it was counting down.”

“Counting down? Counting down to what? Dude.” said Ziggy.

The words were so heavy, impossible, unbearable but he had to finish. “The opening of an interdimensional portal,” said Hank.

No one in the room moved. Hank turned around and looked at the four on the floor, eyeball to eyeballs.

“Mystery, not certainty, surrounds us every day but only if you have eyes to see.”

Before Hank could explain anymore, the house began shaking to its core. Something moved beneath it. Stu and Ziggy scrambled for their guns as the foundation of the house shifted upward out of the ground and slammed back down with incredible force. Hank was flung to the floor next to Lexi. Ethan tumbled backwards out the bedroom door towards the stairs. The house rocked and undulated side to side.

Lexi, roll!” said Ziggy. Lexi, like a trained combat soldier, heard and obeyed. The bureau smashed to pieces as it hit the floor where Lexi was sitting.

“Help. Help me. I’m slipping,” said Ethan. He looked back at the long stairs, grabbing the bedroom door frame with all his strength.

Stu hoisted himself up to the sill of the window, looking out. The yellow energy monster was traveling straight for the house at terrific speed. “Grab something and hang on,” said Stu.

The impact of the glowing mass threw everyone up into the air. They bashed down on the hard wood floor. Horrible sounds of roaring, ripping wood and glass shattering rang out as Hank’s house was torn in two. Ethan on one side, everyone else on the other.

“Ethan. Don’t move,” said Stu. He tried to think quick. Not quick enough.

The energy monster bubbled up in-between the two halves of the destroyed house. Glowing, roaring, seething. Its yellow-orange colors swirled, popped and began to change. Dark blue, purple, black. With one slippery motion, the monster retreated back down through the tear. The house rocked and groaned against itself, like birthing.

Something else was coming.

#

The stink of death and raw vomit rose up through the chasm of the ruptured house. A misty, insidious shadow figure with no facial features rose out of the stench, past the shattered roof line. High above, looking down, It spoke.

“See me,” It said.

Its voice was many voices; high, low, hissing, changing shape.

“Flank,” said Stu in a quiet voice and pointed. Ziggy slid to Stu’s right.

“Locked and loaded,” said Ziggy.

“I am mystery,” It said.

Ziggy stood fast without a command.

“Not today, mother fucker!” yelled Ziggy.

“No, Ziggy. Stop!” said Stu. His heart raced as Ziggy began firing his AR-15 into the dark specter without warning. He watched frozen as his closest friend was about to die, no fear.

Dark appendages extended from the shadow and rushed the bullets back at Ziggy, ripping his body from head to toe.

“Oh my God, Ziggy,” screamed Lexi. She crawled toward him but he was already dead, blood trickling out of his shattered eye sockets blown apart by bullets. Lexi leaned over the body, her own handprints of blood painting the floor. She grabbed a quilt off the bed and covered his face.

“Good night, Ziggy Stardust,” Lexi said. She said a small prayer and wept as she moved away.

Hank stood. A defiant stance that Stu knew would be followed by a challenge or his death. Stu’s rifle shifted toward Hank and the shadow.

“Why now? I’ve been afraid all my life. You tell me why this is happening now,” said Hank. The dark presence shuttered. Hank’s legs were shaking but he faced the dark shadow without moving.

The shadow floated up higher then flew down with force, inches from Hank’s face. It answered in a chortled voice.

“It began as a mere thought. Fenton Grove and other rotting towns. Mentally breaking down for years. I found each of them and let my black tentacles of fear seep into every fiber of everyday life. My tiny suckling fingers invading human brains; clicking dials, throwing levers, watching sparks fly. Dreams began drowning on every street corner. Terrifying inward visions of despair turned to outward death. The Adults, sinking in the dark of hopelessness, found the light of suicide.

“My mystery had become certainty for a new generation.”

The shadow began making cyclic movements. Searching. It wanted something. Someone.

“Why am I still here? And Hank?” said Stu. He was looking for intel before things went sideways.

“I don’t know.” It said.

“Why save certain children?” said Lexi.

“I don’t know,” It said. The voice was agitated, rising in volume.

“Mystery or certainty?” said Ethan.

“SILENCE!” It screamed. The word expelled like a tornado wind, shoving everyone back against the walls and furniture. The gust and the rotting odor shifted, showering over Ethan.

“You. You have visions,” It said to Ethan. It swelled and writhed.

Ethan panicked. No one, not even Lexi, knew about his visions. For years, he channeled horrific images of death and destruction in his neighborhood, his community, his town and beyond. He worked hard to dismiss them as dreams. Until a few nights ago when it all became real.

Hank Boulder had appeared in his room.

#

“Young One.”

Ethan sat up, drenched in sweat. His dream had called him. A breeze was blowing about the room. The window was open.

“Young One,” said Hank.

“Yes?” said Ethan. He squinted. Twice.

Hank Boulder appeared through the window out of thin air. “We don’t have much time,” he said.

He walked to the side of the bed. Ethan, frightened to his core, held his breath and prayed. Hank reached into his pocket and produced a yellow crystal snake on a black leather cord. It was alive, slithering slow. He moved to put it over Ethan’s head.

“Jesus Crackers! What are you doing?”

“I am an old man. I will fail.”

“Fail?”

“The Serpent Mound is breaking apart.”

Hank moved toward Ethan again. Ethan let him put the writhing necklace on him. As he looked down, the crystal snake sunk into his skin and disappeared.

“It will be there when it’s time. My granddad promised.”

Hank walked toward the window and vanished into the night air.

Ethan could feel the crystal warming itself beneath his skin. He looked down. No blood, no mark. He finally knew beyond a doubt.

His visions were real.

#

“You have visions,” It said. “You are leaving here.”

“No,” said Lexi. She turned to Stu with wide eyes. “Don’t let it take him.”

Stu stood, rifle in hand, ready to shoot. Lexi raised her pistol. Stu pushed it down.

“If you want the boy, you’re goin’ through me,” said Stu.

The specter shattered in all directions, engulfing the room in dripping darkness. The house rumbled against itself.

“Get down,” Stu yelled.

Roaring shot up through the chasm like exploding lava. The entire house levitated upward, floated for a second then smashed into the earth. The shadow reorganized. Darker, diabolical, deadly. It hovered over Ethan.

“You are leaving here. Seek the missing. Restore the hope.”

“Hope?” said Ethan.

“It is pointless but it is written,” said the shadow.

Lexi began to cry. Stu lifted a finger to his mouth. Hank covered her with his arm.

“Lexi, stop. Stop crying. Look at me,” said Ethan. Lexi looked across at Ethan. “Hey! How ya doin’?” he said in his New Jersey, Italian accent. Lexi couldn’t answer. Ethan repeated louder. “Hey! How ya doin’?”

“Never better.” She stuttered as she looked straight into his eyes.

“Never better,” said Ethan. He smiled, almost content.

The shadow raised a black shifting finger. A long, sharp fingernail appeared. “You are leaving,” It said.  The finger punched high into the air and ripped downward. Another dimension appeared on the other side of the slice. Darkness and flashes of light.

“Face the Sins of the parents. Conquer the Darkness that ate their hope. If you do not solve the adults’ collision of Despair, you will die.”

Ethan felt the crystal snake stir within his chest. It was time. Just as Hank said.

“Do you accept?” It said.

Silence. Not a sound. Only the wretched wheezing of the black being waiting for an answer.

Ethan drew his weapon and stood. “I accept.”

Lexi’s tears fell as she cupped her mouth.

“You got this, boy,” said Stu.

“It is time, Young One,” said Hank.

A massive quaking motion jarred the house. The shadow rose above Ethan and spread its death wings.

“I love you, Ethan,” whispered Lexi.

The shadow blasted forward and consumed Ethan, lifting him high into the air and throwing him into the other dimension. An electric flash and sonic boom forced everyone to the ground. Stu looked up first.

Ethan was gone.

#

Sour milk. Burning wood. Rotting flesh.

Ethan, on his back, awoke to the heavy stench of a corroded world. It filled his nostrils and burned his eyes to tearing. He was on hard ground full of pebbles and sharp rock, pushing into his flesh through his clothes. He blinked several times but nothing came into view above him. Nothing but all-consuming darkness. He sat up.

In front of him, jagged rocks and twisted trees lined a singular path lit up by constant streaks of bluish lightning. Black ash fell from the sky, covering everything in an oily residue. On either side of the path, he could see shadows shifting and crawling over trees, rocks and bodies. Adult bodies. The shadows seemed to be devouring their souls, their fear, their despair. Sounds of creaking bones, painful moans and distant screams invaded the putrid air. Pleas of the suffering were lost in a low-pitched wind, cold and unforgiving.

Ethan stood and shook off the dust of the ground. He stared ahead, looking down the path. It was straight, no twists or turns. On the far horizon, there was a pin prick of an orange glow, flickering and alive.

Why was he here? What did he have to do? He closed his eyes and thought backwards.

Face the Sins of the parents. Conquer the Darkness that ate their hope. If you do not solve the adults’ collision of Despair, you will die.

The shadow’s words were cryptic but the answer was in the challenge.

Face sin, conquer darkness, restore hope.

“Jesus Crackers, I’m fourteen,” Ethan yelled into the void.

The blackness answered him. Moaning grew louder. Wind pitched and howled. The ground rumbled and buckled beneath him, breathing. Ethan knew that sensation. He reached back to his pant waist. His weapon was gone. He turned around quickly.

The yellow energy mass was rising out of the ground behind him. Pulsing, morphing, hungry.

Without hesitation, Ethan turned back and bolted down the path, running for his life. The crash behind alerted him; the monster was hunting and he was the prey.

He never saw the wretched bodies reaching for him, trying to draw him into the darkness. They wanted to devour his life light and add one more to their pit of despair. Even the trees slithered and reached their wicked branches for him. This world, this void, wanted to keep him. Forever.

Ethan was heaving for air but his legs never stopped carrying him forward. His mind reeled with so many visions. The past, the present, the future. And Lexi. Lexi who he loved so much. He should have told her before. What if he died here in the darkness and she never knew?

The angry energy mass bashed into the back of Ethan so hard, it knocked the breath out of him. It swallowed him into its twisting plasma, raised him high into the air and catapulted him down the path. In his free fall, Ethan saw deformed bodies, crooked trees and the pin prick of orange light from the horizon except the glow was much bigger; near and alive.

He hit the ground with a damaging thud, bounced forward and smashed his head against an iron gate. He lay on his belly panting, praying the monster would think he was dead. He calmed his breath and lay still. The sounds of moaning and the cold wind continued but nothing more. He dared to roll over, his hands guarding his face. In a moment, he peeked through his fingers.

The monster was gone.

Ethan pushed himself to sit up on his haunches and pain burst across his rib cage. He reached down and touched each rib. Yep, four bruised or probably broken. Well, it’s better than dead.

Dazed and shaken, he stood. Lightning ripped across the sky, illuminating the shadow creatures, the terrifying trees and one more thing.

A decrepit cemetery, surrounded by ancient stone walls, right in front of him.

#

The cemetery had an unearthly green glow but its source was unseen. Headstones spattered the grounds, leaning and tipping in all directions. Overgrowth of weeds and moss spewed over the walls, creeping toward the black ground of the outside. At the back of the cemetery, a mausoleum grew out of the ground. Tall and ornate with an open door. Past the open door was the flickering light he had seen. Ethan was mesmerized by the glow. In his mind, he heard it calling him with a whispering softness.

Young One.

The crystal snake beneath Ethan’s skin shuttered. He put his hand to his chest. The crystal was warm and alive. He knew none of this was a dream.

Young One. Come.

Ethan knew that voice and his fear melted. His hands grabbed the old iron gates of the cemetery and pulled them open. The metal creaked and a wind full of warm voices rushed past him like a breath that had been waiting to exhale forever. The grounds glowed brighter, more welcoming. Ethan took one step into the cemetery and everything he needed to know flooded his mind. He continued to walk towards the back, past eerie gravestones, through crumbling weeds and soft earth to the mausoleum.

Within minutes, Ethan was standing in front of the mausoleum. He looked up, eyes searching for the carving of a name in the stone archway but soil and moss covered its proprietor’s identity. It didn’t matter. This was why he was here. This would set everything right. 

Passing two large pillars, Ethan stepped inside the boxed walls. It smelled of damp earth and burning wax. It was a small space, like a foyer, overflowing with candles; in the niches of walls, filling candelabras, perched on old metal chests. French vanilla. His mother would have loved this. The candles. Suddenly, the vision of his mom’s death dripped over his other thoughts and he halted, crying into his hands, uncontrolled and raw.

Young One.

He looked up through his tears. It was his mother’s voice. Was she there? He spun around, searching.

Young One. Listen to your heart.

“Mom?”

We are out of time. The chamber.

The voice disappeared and a large glow emanated from the burial chamber just ahead. He was drawn to move. The snake above his heart vibrated and slithered. This was right. This was how he would defeat the shadow.

Ethan walked into the chamber alongside a large crypt. More candles surrounded him, flickering, calling. With one hand over the crystal snake, he used the other to rub the dirt and debris from the head plate of the crypt. It was thick and not revealing.

A dark figure appeared behind him in the foyer. Tall and looming. It did not move.

Ethan grasped his shirt and used the bunched-up cloth to rub the hidden name. If he saw, he would know what to do next.

The dark figure floated towards Ethan. It filled the doorway of the crypt chamber. Ethan did not notice.

Rub. Rub. Rub. Damn. Rub more. More. More. Rub harder. Harder. The letters H-A-N-K-B-O-U-L…

Ethan fell backward against the wall. Breath came in little gasps. The name on the crypt was Hank. Hank Boulder.

“Young One,” said the figure in the doorway.

Ethan turned his head and panicked. The black shadow had found him, tricked him. He was about to die. The figure moved into the light of the candles.

Hank Boulder.

Ethan lost speech and just stared. The spirit of Hank floated to him, tussled his hair with a strange, ethereal touch then settled on top of the crypt.

“Feel the power inside you? The crystal snake speaks,” said Hank.

Hank pushed his hand into the misty essence of his own vaporous body and produced a small glowing ball of energy. Ethan leaned forward. It looked so familiar.

“Yes, it is from the ley line.”

Ethan shirked back.

“No, Young One. It was never dangerous until darkness harnessed it. Over many centuries, ley lines have held nations together, created great leaders, forgiven wars, started over. The ley line brought you here.”

Ethan found his voice. “You’re dead, Hank? How are you here and back home?”

“My ancestors came for me years ago but left my spirit on the earth-bound plane as the guardian of the Serpent Mound. As time wore on, it seemed I would never be needed. Just trapped in my home for all eternity. Then everything started to deteriorate.”

The snake stirred hard inside Ethan. It was anxious and needing something. The ley line energy ball shifted and glowed. Pink, yellow, orange.

“I’m so lost, Hank. What am I supposed to do?”

“Take this. Every answer you need will fill your visions.”

Hank put out his hand, holding the round energy mass. Ethan reached forward, ready to change all the pain and suffering.

The death shadow materialized through the stone wall, ripped Ethan from his spot by his hair and slammed him to the foot of the crypt. Hank hovered back as the darkness spoke.

“The ley line is controlled by me, old man. You fill this boy with lies.” 

“You are the lies,” said Hank. “Thousands of years of lies. Your fear and despair have bled upon the innocent, destroying mankind over and over. This will end with the Young One.” 

The death shadow grabbed Ethan’s throat, pushing him back against the crypt. 

“Your parents are here, feeding the Fear. They call out for you but they cannot be saved. Soon, the entire earth will be swallowed whole in the black tar of Despair. You can join them. Die together.” The dark shadow twisted the pain further and said, “Or maybe wait for Lexi. She’ll be here soon.” 

Ethan burst inside. “You are nothing but deception. An abomination that keeps reaping and destroying every soul of its loving light,” he said. The shadow released Ethan’s throat and floated backward, gloating.

“Love? Is that what you left behind? Depression, lethargy, pandemic, empty schools, businesses crushed, people destroying each other for power. Is that the love you speak of?” said the shadow.

“You did that,” said Ethan.

“Indeed, I did. Such weakness.”

The shadow groaned and shifted, growing larger. It was agitated. “You have no power here, Young One,” It said in a mocking tone.

Ethan looked down defeated, then back up with an all-knowing grin.

“You are so wrong, mother fucker.”

Ethan rolled to his right and turned back to Hank. The ley line ball went airborne. The crystal snake burst from Ethan’s chest, flying above his head, sending hot white circles of protection around his body, top to bottom. Ethan reached out and caught the ball. With all his might, he thrust it into the middle of the shadow.

Screams of the dead rose to an ear-shattering pitch. The ground erupted in quaking movements as the mausoleum swayed, raining down dust and rocks. A wild, freezing wind filled the chamber trying to force Ethan back away from the shadow. He never moved. The stink of decaying death overwhelmed the chamber. And the shadow rose, the ley line ball inside it.

“This can never be undone,” bellowed the shadow as it burst through the stone roof of the mausoleum, staring down at Ethan and Hank.

“Never better,” said Ethan.

He closed his eyes and brought his vision forward. The vision of a new beginning.

The crystal snake rushed to connect with the ley line ball. Hank’s spirit surrounded Ethan, pushing them both to the floor. The crystal snake and the ball fused, vibrated and grew to bursting. The power of their union shattered the yellow ley line energy mass, sending a wave of pure white light across the dimension, engulfing everything in its path. The shadow shrieked and its form disintegrated into nothingness. 

Light dispelled the darkness and silence hushed the world.

Ethan took his arms from his head and looked up to see Hank smiling at him; proud, glowing, finished.

“Is it gone?” said Ethan.

“Yes. The road begins again,” said Hank. His spirit rose above the crypt. He lay back and floated down, disappearing into his place of final rest.

Ethan just stood, not knowing what to do or how to get back. To home, to Lexi, to a new world.

You are done here, Young One. Find your road.

A sonic blast of light and sound then blackness. Only black.

Ethan had left the dimension.

#

Grass. Wet. Ash. Black. Flesh. Burning.

Ethan was face down on the ground when he awoke to the putrid smells. His entire body ached as he rolled over and sat up. What happened? Where am I? He felt a lump along his back. He reached with his right hand. His weapon had returned.

He looked around and then behind him. There, lying on the grass, was the ley line ball with a curved snake figure carved around the outside. The whole ball was glowing. He picked it up and put it in his front pants pocket. It had a slight shimmering movement.

After a few minutes, his mind cleared and he remembered it all. The dimension. The death. The ley line. Hank. The shadow. The snake. The light. Home.

The darkness was still here, maybe worse. The falling ash seemed a bit thicker. There were flames in the distance from a burning house. And all the bodies in various forms of suicide still littered every house as far as he could see. He looked to his right.

Hank’s house.

He stood up quick and ran toward the mangled front porch. I need to find Lexi, he thought.

The house dipped left, far into the ground. As he approached, he wondered how he would get up the stairs to the second floor. The house was all but destroyed and it was a miracle it still stood.

Ethan struggled across the porch floor, sliding along the ripped-up floor boards. As he approached, he saw the main door was ripped off its hinges. Inside, something moved in the shadows. He put one hand on the screen door, the other on the gun.

The growl came fast and the shadow barreled at the door, jumping high in the air and bursting through the screen, onto Ethan, knocking him to the ground. A crazed rottweiler.

The dog gnashed hard at Ethan’s face, flinging streams of drool everywhere. He was pinned down and the dog was vicious, wild, hungry.

Ethan grabbed the snout of the dog and punched hard into its skull. The dog rolled off howling in pain. Ethan slid back against a wooden post. The dog was up on its feet again, charging. The bullet rang out and the shot was true. The dog dropped in its tracks, blood pouring from its skull.

“I’m sorry, buddy.”

Inside, Hank’s house was destroyed. Furniture, silverware, knick-knacks were scattered in all directions. Broken glass peppered every inch of the hardwood floors. Every beam, every wall, every ceiling had cracked or snapped. The stairs to the second floor were twisted and leaning at a dangerous angle.

Ethan shifted across the floor planks and crossed into the living room. He made his way past the overturned furniture and climbed onto a toppled curio cabinet. He reached forward and pulled hard on a lace curtain. It snapped off from its bar with ease. Ethan ripped the lace into strips and wrapped both his hands to protect from broken glass. Sliding off the curio, he headed back to the stairs.

The first step moaned under his weight. He paused, making sure it would not collapse. Looking up, he counted eight more steps. You can do this, just go slow. Control. His mind filled with the face of Lexi. Lexi who he left behind. Lexi who might still be on the second floor of this house.

He climbed step by step, each one threatening to give way. As he put his foot down on stair step number six, wood crackled then split away from the wall. Ethan screamed and grabbed the stair railing, closing his eyes as the entire structure swung right. It bashed against the main wall. He opened his eyes and lay still, contemplating the last two steps.

He reached inside his front pants pocket. The ley line ball felt so warm as he rolled his hand over its curved body. He brought it out, careful to not drop it. His mind dipped to a place of light as a peaceful energy from the ball showered over him. He looked up the stairs and suddenly it was not so hard.

He put the ball away and lay on the railing, pulling himself up to the seventh step. The broken stairway moaned and shifted, hanging on by a few boards and nails. One more step. One more step and it’s over.

Ethan pulled himself to the eighth step and the stairway let loose, crashing to the first floor like a pile of matchsticks. He grabbed the landing, legs dangling over in space. His cloth bound hands began to slip against the wood floor.

No. Not now, he thought.

He swung his legs left and wrapped them as hard as he could around the remaining stair rail. Fire flooded every muscle as he pulled up. He felt the open space below him beckoning to take his body.

Not today.

He rolled as hard as he could and popped up onto the landing. He lay on his back, fighting for air.

Safe. For now.

The cracked ceiling above him had partially given way and plaster dust was still sprinkling down every time the house moaned and moved beneath itself. Somewhere, water was gushing.

Ethan stood and checked his front pants pocket. The ball was intact. He reached to the rear of his pants. Gun still there. He moved forward, passing the door frame into the bedroom. He prayed everyone was right where he had left them. He glanced across the chasm of the split house and froze, eyes wide.

Sergeant Stuart Porter was hanging from the ceiling, bed sheets wrapped tightly around his throat. The body nodded back and forth and his eyes were pure white, rolled in the back of his head. Lightning streaked across the black sky through the decimated roof, giving the scene a surreal, gothic horror quality. Dark, artistic, morbid.

She wasn’t there.

Ethan’s mind raced against the worst. He exhaled not realizing he was holding his breath. He took a few steps forward on the tilting floor, squinting to see if she might be hiding amongst the overturned furniture.

“Lexi? Lexi?” His voice traveled up and out into the barren night. “Lexi!”

He could feel she was nearby. She wouldn’t have left alone. She was hiding. Hiding from the horror of Sergeant Stuart Porter. He reached into his pocket and held up the ley line ball. He had no idea how it could help but it was all he could think of. Maybe it would reveal her.

And it did.

The ball floated out of his hand and into the air. It held for a moment, it’s energy swirling, seeking. It moved to the left and stopped in front of the two shudder doors of a closet. It glowed bright then dim. Bright. Dim. Bright, dim. Ethan moved towards the ball. It backed away as Ethan put his hands on the door handles and pulled. His heart gave way as the doors opened.

Inside was Lexi. On the floor. Weapon in hand. Bullet wound to the head. Dead.

Ethan’s heart broke into a thousand pieces. Lexi. The one real friend he ever had, the one girl he ever loved. Gone. His whole reason for fighting the darkness. Gone. His reason for bringing the ley line back to this world. Gone. The reason he knew true love. Gone.

He reached forward to caress her cheek. It was icy cold. Her eyes stared straight ahead, filled with fear of whatever her last vision on earth had been. Ethan could only imagine it was the dark shadow. It had deceived them all. It never meant for anyone to live. It never meant for him to get back. More insidious games to blacken the land.

A blanket was cupped in Lexi’s arms. Ethan shut her eyes and draped the blanket over her head.

“I love you, Lexi,” he said aloud. He kissed her through the blanket, salty tears on his lips. The ley line ball floated to his hand. He cupped it and put it away in his pocket. Closing the closet doors, he paused. Now what? He had to get back down but the stairs were useless.

Tying pillow cases, sheets and quilts into a makeshift rope, he made his way out the window to the black ground below. He walked along the side of Hank Boulder’s house, out onto the destroyed Hamilton Avenue. It was a landscape of catastrophic destruction, a terrain of tortured bodies and death. The horrid vomit smell invaded him again. He unwrapped the strips of cloth from his hands and bound them around his mouth and nostrils. He took one last look at Hank’s house and turned away. He wasn’t crying anymore.

Walking down the upturned road, Ethan barely noticed the horrors on either side of him. His heart spilled over with grief as he recalculated a future without his mom, without his dad, without Lexi.

Is this the prophecy he was supposed to fulfill? Wander aimlessly alone until the ley line showed him hope? Hope to rewrite, rebuild, reclaim? He was a young boy. None of this should be his.

“Why? Why did you take her?” he said aloud. His voice echoed in pain across the street, bouncing off houses, sinking into scorched earth.

No answer.

“Tell me why!” Ethan screamed as loud as he could, feeling the rawness burn in his throat. He turned in circles, looking for the dark shadow. It wasn’t there. It had started this impossible extinction and just left, hoping the world would destroy itself and float into nothingness to join the dead in the other dimension.

He kept walking. Dizzy, hungry, lost. Lost in his mind and his visions that were all turned inside out. He had no clue where to start.

The road begins again.

Ethan was suddenly at the front gates of Fenton Grove. He walked through them, past stone pillars that rose to an archway and out onto the main road. He stopped and stared, sinking to his knees in defeat.

The darkness of the sky covered the earth as far as he could see. More destruction, more fires, more bodies. Nothing but annihilation and despair for miles and miles.

His strength was leaving him. He was starved, dehydrated, confused. Death. Pure death all around. No hope. Nothing.

Exhausted, he gave in. He was done. Just like the adults.

Reaching around to his waist band, he brought the gun forward.

This is an extended magazine. You’re already loaded with 33 rounds.

I pumped a few of those rounds into a pissed off rottweiler, Sergeant Porter. Plenty left.

The gun barrel moved under his chin. The cold steel of the chamber felt assuring under the extra fleshy part of his gullet.

He rocked in a daze and the dark shadow’s voice spoke clear.

Join the Adults. Irresponsible. Unaccountable. Immoral. Death comes in so many forms.

One teardrop of fear streamed down his cheek. He knew Lexi would be waiting. He prayed it wouldn’t hurt. His finger trembled as he made contact with the metal trigger.

Young One.

The gun dropped to the pavement and bounced away, bullets intact. That voice. Of course, he knew. He cried from his heart as he looked over his shoulder. His prayer was answered.

Lexi was there, shining as bright as a star. He could see every beautiful detail of her smiling face. He could see right through her. He could see love.

“Hey, Ethan, how ya doin?” she said. 

“Never better,” said Ethan, tears unleashed.

“Never better,” said Lexi.

Ethan was ready. He took the ley line ball from his pants pocket.

“The road begins again,” he said.

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright Scott A. Cook 2026

Image Source: Odile Luna from Unsplash.com