Cataclysm

Cataclysm

(c) Theresa Jacobs 2015

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the Author.

Edited by: Zane Dowling

Dedicated to Zane Dowling my friend and mentor, whose valuable guidance and wisdom are shaping me into a better author.

To my husband Duane Minshull who puts up with my tales of woe and triumph through my writing endeavors. As does my best friend Aimie Pagendam, my tired test reader.

Also to my son Mordecai, may all your dreams come true, except for the scary ones.

Special thanks to Mark Senske for his artful map making.

Forward

Usually, I would not write a forward. However, I need to tell you, this tall tale has been approximately 36 years in the making.

This story began when I was perhaps 10yrs old. I awoke in the middle of the night to see, on the floor near the foot of my bed, two glowing red eyes staring at me. It felt as though my heart stopped an I held my breath in fear. What was this beast staring at me? All I could see were two eyes, nothing more. Then a cloud must have shifted across the moon, and the eye shine went away. In its place was my cat, just sitting there looking at me.

At that very moment, the idea for this book came to life – which I can’t spoil before it begins – and I carried it with me until 1992.

You will note the book starts in Oct of 1992, this is literal. I sat down and wrote the first passage 25 years ago. I would write a chapter or two and walk away for years, only to pick it up again and again.

I typed the end, of the first draft in 2003.

It sat in a drawer for another 12 years, until in 2015 when I learned of self-publishing.

Now this little book of mine, novel #1, my pet project, has been re-written and edited and edited again. It would not be publishable if not for the hard work that Zane Dowling has put into this book.

Please give Mr. Dowling a round of applause and perhaps help by purchasing one of his books too. I can’t tell you how many times he had to read and edit and slap me on the wrist for my stubbornness. So yes, any errors left are all my own doing, but it’s hard letting go of something you have tooled with for so long.

Thank you, Zane, and thanks to all my supporters and my beta readers. You all mean the world to me.

Theresa Jacobs, 2017.

N

CHAPTERS

RUDE AWAKENING

CLUELESS

PLANS

FEAR

IN THE NIGHT

MIDNIGHT

SEEKING ANSWERS

CHAOS

THE LONGEST NIGHT

A NEW DAY

THE HUSTLE

TROUBLE

CREATURES

THE REVOLT

FINISHING IT

THREE DAYS LATER

Rude Awakening

October 1992,

North Falls, B.C. Canada

Judith Barnes’s Apartment 10:20 pm

Judith limped down the short hallway. The pain in her hip was a red-hot poker, searing her bones with every step. As she inched along, she used the wall for support. When she reached her apartment door, she slid the deadbolt back and cracked it open just enough to allow the small black cat to slip past. It slinked between her legs, as it entered its familiar domain. Judith had been living in the three-story walk up for so many years that all the neighbors knew not only her, but her cat Missy as well. Whenever she let the cat out, eventually another tenant would let it out the front doors, and at some point, back in again. She was thankful they were so kind, as it was not possible for her to run up and down three floors, so her cat could actually get outdoors.

She stooped down painfully to stroke the cat’s soft fur, crooning, Did my Missy get the nice neighbors to let her back in? Eh puss, puss? In response, the cat scurried down the hallway and disappeared into the kitchen. Judith shook her head smiling at her pet’s antics. She was grateful Missy had returned home early; there was nothing she hated more than to get into a comfortable sleep, only to be awakened by her meowing in the hallway. At her age and with her old bones aching, even the little things like getting in and out of bed were hard for Judith. Knowing Missy had plenty of food in her dish was a comfort as she inched her way back to the bedroom. As she slid under the covers, a sigh escaped her, soft and mournful as natural as the creaking of a wooden ship on a quiet sea. It felt good to stretch out her aching limbs, but she doubted the depths of her sleep tonight with her joints acting up as they were.

She fluffed up her pillow and settled back for a good hour of reading before she’d call it a night. Then she saw Missy creeping into the room. Missy, come here puss-puss, she patted the blankets invitingly.

The cat perked up her ears when she heard her name, jumped gracefully onto the bed. It kneaded the covers, fussed and turned, finally settling on a spot, curling into a tight little ball. Good girl, Judith rubbed the cat gently and began to doze off, the book tilted, forgotten in her other hand.

Judith opened her eyes, confused as a weight pressed heavy on her chest, and she couldn't draw a good breath. She tried to turn onto her side and found that she couldn’t move. The weight was pressing tightly against her ribs. Oh no, she thought, I'm having a heart attack. As she reached up to rub her chest, her hand encountered a warm furry body. She gasped as she tried desperately to breathe.

Oh Missy, goodness, she wheezed, get off mommy, I can’t breathe. She pushed feebly at the cat, but it would not budge. She struggled harder now to get some air into her aching lungs. She lifted her hips and tried to unbalance the cat, hoping to knock it to the floor. All that succeeded in doing was tiring her out more. Judith didn’t understand what was happening to her. Why did Missy feel so heavy? The cat had lain on her many times before, she wasn't heavy. Why was tonight so different? Maybe it wasn’t the cat, but really the pressure of a heart attack, and she was just mistaking the pain for the feeling of weight. She wasn’t sure, but she knew she had to get the cat off of her quickly and call 911. She wrapped her thin fingers around Missy and gently squeezed, not wanting to hurt her pet. Then she started to lift her upwards away from her body. Missy hissed at the touch and dug its claws into Judith’s tender flesh.

Her scream echoed off the walls as sharp claws pierced her skin. She gave up being nice and shoved the cat. The green eyes blinked and the eyelids, usually pale pink, flicked to black and then opened to burning crimson embers. Its tiny mouth stretched wide, revealing a gaping black maw. Judith’s head rocked back and forth as she pushed at the thing on her chest.

Its claws grew longer and sunk deeper. As Judith wailed in pain, the creature leaped onto her face.

The Bowan Residence 10:45 pm

Stars exploded on the black screen. Sound boomed and screamed through the speakers as the little blue ship raced back and forth shooting the enemy. Doug’s deft fingers flew from one button to the next as he annihilated the robotically advancing spaceships. His left foot had fallen asleep, but he barely noticed the tingling sensation; all his thoughts centered on the computer screen. He had surpassed his high score and was working on setting his new record.

Yeah! Go…go…YES! He jerked and jumped along with the ships’ maneuvers until he heard his mother's voice from down the hall once again.

Doug! Now please, Brenda yelled louder.

Okay, I’m coming. He quickly disposed of three more ships, hit the pause button, and tossed the controller onto his cluttered desk.

Doug headed downstairs to the kitchen and rounded the corner just as his mother was walking out the opposite side into the living room. What’s up? He asked before she could disappear.

Brenda stopped mid-stride and turned to look up at her son, who at eighteen towered over her by a few feet. Can you please go find Sneezer honey? I called, but he didn’t come in. There is another storm coming, and after that huge storm the other night, I want him to be safe.

Doug nodded, pulled on his Nikes and a light fall jacket, and stepped out into the cold mountain air. He made sure the door closed tight behind him so it wouldn’t blow open and let the heat out. He stood for a moment in the darkness, watching the trees overhead as they swayed in the heavy wind. He loved hearing the calming song of soft creaks and rustling leaves and inhaled the deep sweet scent of autumn. As he stepped away from the back door, the motion sensor clicked on, and he started calling out to the cat.

Sneezer! Here kitty!

Not seeing any movement, Doug walked further out into the yard. Leaves crunched underfoot, and the cold wind pierced his thin coat. He shivered and rubbed at his arms, then let out a shrill whistle to attract the cat. He stopped at the end of the circle of light and braced himself before stepping out into the darkness. It seemed to smother him as he focused off into the distance, allowing his eyes to adjust until he could make out the silhouette of the mountains that rode the skyline. Then he scanned the yard and caught a glimpse of a small dark shape disappearing behind a large unruly holly bush.

Hey, come here Sneezer, he yelled running after the cat. Normally the cat was in before dark; he didn’t know what had gotten into Sneezer tonight.

Yeeooowww! A cat screeched from behind the house in the other direction.

Doug jumped and spun around, his heart pounded from the sudden noise. He could have sworn he saw the cat go under the bush. He followed the sound back toward the house and, as he peered around the corner. He saw Sneezer crouched low, teeth bared, hissing and spitting.

Hey silly, Doug soothed the cat as he reached down to pick him up, it’s only me. As soon as he scooped the cat into his arms, the hissing turned into a low rumbling purr. Doug patted the stiff fur back down into place.

As he walked past the Holly Bush talking to his cat, a low growl came from within its confines, and a pair of glowing red eyes watched them enter the house.

North Falls High, 8:30 am

The next morning the sun hid behind a mass of gray clouds. A cold autumn wind blew across the small town, bringing the smell of dry leaves and snow down from the mountains. Doug whipped his bike daringly off the dirt road that led from his farmhouse out onto the highway. The ground was still covered with frost, and it looked as though the sun wasn’t going to be coming out to make the day warmer. He’d worn gloves but neglected to wear a hat, and now he regretted it as his ears burned from the cold. He pumped his legs harder to make the short trip to school, that much faster.

He swung into the school parking lot and hitched up to the bike rack. He then stood on the edge of the yard watching his peers as they laughed and jostled each other about before the routine of the day started. Noise from behind brought him out of his trance, and he turned to see Katlin rushing up the field towards him. When she got within arm's reach, he rubbed the top of her head, which he knew she hated but could never resist doing.

Stop that! Katlin brushed her long black hair out of her eyes and gave Doug an ineffectual swat. Her tiny, five-foot, ninety-pound frame was no match for him, but he was always willing to let her get in a few mercy shots. He noticed her brow furrow just before she looked away in thought.

Crazy news, huh?

Doug shook his head, What news?

Haven’t you heard?

Guess not, Doug replied looking perplexed, heard what?

You remember our old library teacher Mrs. Barnes?

Of course, she was our librarian for eight years, Kat.

The first bell rang out over the schoolyard and chaos ensued as students swarmed towards the doors like an angry mass of bees. Doug ambled behind the crowd waiting for Katlin to finish.

She was murdered, Katlin blurted.

Doug was taken aback, Who would kill an old librarian? And whatever for?

As he opened his locker, a couple of classmates acknowledged him as they passed by. Doug nodded or lifted his hand to them, but carried on unloading his books.

Katlin leaned against the lockers, her bright azure eyes exploring his face in wonder as she waited. Rumor has it that she was mutilated, and her eyes and tongue were missing.

Closing his locker door and securing the latch, Doug scoffed, Really, and you believe that? Come on Kat, he rubbed her head again, you know this town and its rumors. You better get going, or you’ll be late for homeroom; we'll talk later, okay? He turned to his friend, who had just walked by, Hey Gar, wait up. As he stepped away from Katlin, he saw the disappointed look on her face. Meet me in the cafeteria ok. Then he raced off after Garry and first class.

Throughout the day, Doug heard many different versions of Mrs. Barnes death or murder as the talk went. A couple of girls in his Biology class were whispering about how her heart had been ripped out of her body, and that blood and gore covered the room. During study break in the library, a group of students argued over different versions of the tale, one said her head was missing, another that her face was mangled. They all claimed to have the most informed source on the subject. Quite frankly it was making him sick. What is it about a murder that intrigues people so much? He thought. Not to mention she was a sweet little old lady. Everyone knew and loved her. Then he wondered how Katlin had heard about it. It wasn’t like her to gossip.

An hour later while standing in the lunch line, Doug scanned the crowded cafeteria. His eyes slipped easily over the heads until they stopped on the long raven tresses that belonged to Katlin. He grabbed his food and headed to the corner table where she sat.

Hey, how’s your day going?

She grunted around a mouthful of coleslaw, swallowed, then wiped her lips before speaking. Ah the usual crap, she complained. Mr. Foster is giving me flack again about my grades. So I’m not very good at math, she shrugged angrily, who cares. I totally make up for it in the rest of my classes.

If it’s going to interfere with your graduation why don’t you get a tutor? I’ll be your tutor for free, he said jokingly, though he was thinking how lucky it is that math is his strong suit.

Avoiding eye contact, Katlin watched her fork as she pushed food around on her plate. She was positive that Doug did not know she had a crush on him. They had known each other since kindergarten but became close friends in the second grade. She had always been smaller than the rest of her peers. Add quiet to that, and you have the perfect combination as bully bait. At least that’s what some of the older boys thought until Doug showed up, saw them pushing the little girl around and became her savior. Katlin peeked through her bangs at him. His full lips brought on a sudden yearning for him to grab her right then, and kiss her. Heat rushed from her stomach and straight to her cheeks. She kept her face dipped low and gave him a noncommittal shrug.

Doug, lost in his own thoughts, never noticed the signals that Katlin was throwing out to him. By the way, where did you hear about Mrs. Barnes? I’ve been hearing weird stories all day.

Yeah, she grimaced at the memory of some of the gross things the other kids were saying. I’ve heard plenty of those myself. She shook off the thoughts. Well, she confessed. I overheard Bobby Salinger this morning when I was waiting for you.

Well then let’s go find Bobby and see what’s up.

Whatever for? Katlin asked, wondering why he was suddenly so interested.

Because it just doesn’t sound right that’s why. I mean her tongue and eyes missing? Come on, I want to hear it from him directly. The rumors reminded him of the game that they played in English class where one person would make up a sentence and whisper it in the ear of the person next to them. Each person passed it on as they heard it and by the time it traveled to the last person in the class, the sentence would be completely different from the original tale.

Katlin paused for a moment not sure if she wanted any more details than she’d already heard, but she wanted to be with Doug, so she agreed.

They found Bobby Salinger hanging out in the smoking area, his back against the wall and a smoldering cigarette jutting from his jet-black lips.

There weren’t too many kids in the small community that tried to rebel as hard as Bobby did. Having the chief of police for a father and a mother who died of cancer years earlier, made him defiant.

Hey, Doug greeted Bobby.

Bobby squinted as smoke billowed up into his eyes. He ignored the smoke, better to look tough rather than remove the offender. You look like you want something. A chunk of hash maybe? He smirked knowing these two goody-goodies weren’t looking to buy anything from him.

Katlin stood self-consciously beside Doug, keeping her head low, gnawing at her lip.

Doug got to the point. I want to hear about the murder of Mrs. Barnes.

I’ve already told about a hundred people today. Why should I tell it again? Bobby crushed out his cigarette under the heel of his boot.

Because I’m asking nicely.

Ah, what fucking difference does it make, Bobby replied more to himself than to them. I heard the old man on the blower talking about it. He didn’t know I was home, or he would have made sure that I wasn’t listening in. But… Bobby paused to light another cigarette and offered the pack to Doug, who shook his head no. Bobby scratched at his spiky black hair, Where was I? Oh yeah…so anyway, I heard him saying how he’d never seen nothing like it before, how her body was so flat… like empty…like no bones or nothing. Fucking strange man. He put the cigarette back in his mouth, closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall.

And? That's it? No who done it? Or how or why? Doug queried.

Bobby just shook his head. It was clear to Doug that Bobby had said all he was going to, and they learned nothing new from the conversation. He thanked Bobby for the story and led Katlin away. Once they were out of earshot, he took her hand. "Well, that was hardly worth the effort. But I think I should walk you home for a while, just to make sure you're safe.

Katlin smiled at his concern for her. Fine with me, she said, as long as you promise you’ll stay for dinner.

Would I ever pass up free food?

The bell rang, and they parted, agreeing to meet up after school.

CLUELESS

Police Station, Noon

Chief Salinger sat behind his oak desk studying the crime scene photos. The lines in his brow seemed deeper as he picked at a hangnail with his thumb. The pictures revealed nothing new to him as he spread them across the desk. His stomach tightened when he came to the photo of Judith Barnes, retired school librarian, now unrecognizable. Her body an empty sack of flesh. No bones, aside from her skull, no blood, just skin. Her empty eye holes, the eyelids now useless flaps that sagged grotesquely, stared back at Salinger. Challenging him to decipher how a person could die so brutally.

Turning away from the grizzly pictures, he replayed the scene he walked through that morning. Trying to see something inside his subconscious that the pictures did not reveal. He had been at home asleep when the call came in. The caller, Judith's friend, Lucy Walker, was in such hysterics that his dispatcher Millie had a hard time understanding her. Millie was able to calm her down just enough to get the words murder and the address. Then she contacted Salinger at home, and he rushed right over to the crime scene.

When he saw what was left of Mrs. Barnes, he understood why Lucy was hysterical. As soon as he entered the bedroom, he noticed that the body looked odd, there was no blood spilled. She was emptied, he could think of no other way to describe what he had seen, other than the body was emptied. Her nightgown was torn open in front, and her body no longer had any substance. Her body consisted of mere flesh; she appeared sucked dry of blood and organs. Her mouth hung open in an eternal scream revealing a gaping black hole.

Salinger opened his eyes to the clouded sky outside his window, he felt nauseous remembering the scene. The lack of clues to such a horrific murder left him scared. To make matters worse, the Mayor was out of town on one of his notorious off the grid fishing trips and wouldn’t be back for at least a week. So now, Salinger was stuck with the added burden of notifying the town's people without causing a panic.

He ran his hands through his hair and thumbed the intercom. Millie?

Yes, she responded quickly.

Get that new reporter over here A.S.A.P., then notify the men that we have an emergency meeting tonight at six p.m. sharp.

Right away, Sir.

He turned to the computer. Its dark screen ruined the quaint country feel of his office, like some ghastly Cyclops head, and he cringed as he clicked it on. He was actually lucky to have the computer. With all the government cutbacks, he was down to four constables and needed the extra resource to run a town with a population of five thousand people. Now he wondered how