Acceleration

by Lin Larson

  ACCELERATION

  by Lin Larson

  Cover Design by Atrtink Covers

  Copyright © 2019

  All rights reserved

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my son, Timothy, and sister, Diane.

  Thank you for your love, devotion, and kind hearts. You are the

  lights of my life. I love you dearly.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means including

  scanning, photocopying, uploading, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the

  copyright holder(author) of this book.

  LEGAL RIGHTS

  The characters and events in this book are fictional. Any similarity to real persons, either

  living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  INTRODUCTION

  “I adore action/thriller stories. I admire heroes, especially

  charming, brave, and dedicated ones, who respect people and

  fight against those who crave power and superiority at the ex-

  pense of others. I enjoy reading and writing about attraction

  and love, which may struggle to survive and succeed in the

  midst of dangerous ideas and people.

  My story follows Sam Stone, a man who battles a frightening

  lethal and powerful scientific and political conspiracy. It is one

  that can bring death to thousands and can destroy the United

  States of America. He must win.”

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Part 1: Confrontation

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Part 2: Sanctuary

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Part 3: Combustion

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  About the Author

  Other Books by the Author

  PART 1: CONFRONTATION

  CHAPTER 1

  “Hey, Sean, you are not home...Surprise! This message is from Sam. Remember me, the brother who writes books but is always too lazy to scribble letters? But then, you too, letters that is.... I miss ya. I’m still in Los Angeles. Same old condo. Call me, little brother. It’s been too long.”

  #

  “Sean, it’s Sam again. Remember me? I really would like to hear from you, man. You still a big research honcho? Give me a call if they let you talk.”

  #

  “Sean, you’ve got me worried now. You still well...and the family? It’s Sam. I think I’m homesick for you. Call. Okay?”

  Sam tossed his phone onto the bed-side table. He picked up his glass of Scotch, drained it, and smacked off the light.

  As sleep enveloped him, dark memories reared up like angry monsters. “Remember your past. The Army, the Special Forces. Don’t forget the death.” The words echoed, snarled, and hissed. “You should have died too. That’s what war is for.”

  #

  “Buzz,” Sam’s phone erupted. He sat up suddenly and shouted, “NO!”

  He gasped and struggled into reality as a huge, overly affectionate, Great Dane skittered into the room and plopped heavily onto his bed. It then lapped worriedly and profusely on Sam’s face. Sam laughed between trying to breathe through the slobber and squirming up from his massive buddy. “Oh,” he muttered, “I thought my nightmares had ended. Thanks, Pal, for the love, but you’re not helping, and it’s still night. Go back to sleep.” Finally, he grabbed his phone with relief. “Hi, Sean. Just in time.”

  “You alone, Sammy?” whispered Sean.

  “Yep. Just me and my big mutt, Caesar... You’re hard to reach. Been on vacation?”

  “No vacation… Come get me.”

  “Come get you?” Sam was stunned. “You...you never talked liked this before. What’s wrong?”

  “It’s all turned. I’m losing. Come get me,” Sean began to sob and then there was nothing. Silence hung in the air.

  “Sean… Sean?” Sam listened intently, but there was no sound.

  “You’re gone. You hung up. Sean, I don’t understand. What the hell is going on? You never cried before, even when Mom and Dad had died in the car crash.” Sam felt like time stood still. He shook his head to clear his confusion. Suddenly his phone rang again. Sam almost dropped it in his eagerness to answer.

  It was Sean. He spoke almost mechanically. “I was rambling and being silly, Sam. I’m okay. You don’t need to come. Don’t come.”

  “What? Why?” Sam replied as the phone went dead again. “What? The hell I don’t, Sean. I’m coming. I’ll leave in the morning… What’s happened to you?”

  Sam threw himself back onto the bed in frustration.

  Caesar suddenly flopped upon him again, with his big lapping tongue.

  “Oh, Caesar. I know you care. But slobbery affection is not needed. And move over, big ape. Susie, you are not.” Sam heaved Caesar aside and fondly patted his shoulder. “Listen, we need to stop living alone. I think it’s time for a change, for both of us. You like Susie. I like Susie.” He chuckled as Caesar cocked his head. “I think I will ask her to move in, but it will have to wait to happen. In the morning, it looks like you’re going to the dog sitter. I’ll be back, but first, I have to help Sean. Something bad is happening. Something is terribly wrong.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Sam stirred. His body ached. He felt he should open his eyes, but he really did not want to. He remembered taking Caesar to Cathy, the dog sitter. Caesar had jumped about her excitedly as she giggled with her big toothy grin. They both liked Cathy, a lot. He had told her that she might be having him for a while. She had said that she would keep him as long as needed. He had paid her for a month, although he hoped it would not be that long.

  He kept trying to think. Where was he? Why does his body hurt? And he felt cold.”

  Sam yanked open his eyes and stared at the delude of rain water that was smacking his windshield. “Interesting. I wonder why my car is not moving.” He turned his head, looked around slowly, and frowned.

  “Oh no! I think I got in an accident. I just paid you off, car. You are a fantastic, classic, beautiful, black Jaguar, and I just wrapped your head in this cold-hearted gnarly tree. I apologize. Okay, now let me out.”

  Sam turned and pushed relentlessly until the door creaked heart-wrenching belches of sorrow and opened. He then untangled his long legs from the metal and yanked himself out.

  The wind and rain immediately began to assault him. They ruthlessly hammered his face and drenched his body, as the night chilled his bones. Sam shivered.

  He suddenly faced his car. He bent over and searched intently around the crushed front interior. “W
here was help? Where was his phone?

  He then found it, sort of. “Ah, phone. Poor thing. You’re smashed…Well, look at the bright side. It could be me…I wonder how far help is.”

  He sighed, struggled over to the trunk of his car, and pulled out his heavy jacket and a flashlight. His head still ached, but he felt stronger.

  Now, where was I going? Ah, he remembered it all now. He had intended to visit Sean. He had stopped at his office at Mekka Corporation. A man had said that Sean was on personal leave. Sam had tried his house. Sean’s wife and kids were gone too, but the van and Toyota stood in the garage. He flashed on the thought of that old family cabin and had just headed out of town and towards it, when a massive truck had rammed him and shoved his car off the road. The driver of course had kept going. Sam figured that he had passed out a few seconds later. His hand went to his head. Yep, there was the knot on his forehead. It had been real.

  Sam thought in frustration. “Sean, this trip isn’t going as planned, obviously.”

  He clawed his way up from the soggy ravine and stumbled out.

  Sam now gazed ahead at the desolate pavement, as rain continued pelting him with gusto. “I wonder what’s ahead,” he thought. “It doesn’t feel good. I’m just a writer, Sean, albeit a successful one, but I like knowing the endings upfront. My war is over. Danger is supposed to have ended also. Why are our lives suddenly getting so complicated and inexplicable? Why am I feeling that you are in big trouble? Little brother, I hope I can get you out, but I don’t know… Where are you? Are you at the cabin? Maybe? Well, I’m coming. I’m going to get answers.”

  Sam yanked his jacket up, as the bitter wet wind reared up and angrily battered on his face. He began rapidly tramping down the gaping road. The flashlight beam slid hypnotically along the pavement.

  The highway seemed endlessly in front of him, turn after turn. And no car appeared. On and on he walked, and then…he stopped short.

  He had arrived, standing in exhaustion on the broken stone apron of the cabin’s entrance. It was the childhood haven of Sam’s memory. It was their special place. Sam was excited as he knocked and shouted.

  “Sean, I’ve been through hell, open the door, Buddy... Sean, Kate, it’s Sam. I’m wet and look disgusting at the moment, but I’m a relative.” Sam laughed happily as he fumbled with the door. But his mood changed. Locked. He hit the door in frustration. “You have to be here. It’s your favorite place.”

  Sam suddenly remember the hidden key and groped for it under the cobblestones. Feeling his prize and elated, he shouted. “Hey, Buddy, I’ve got it. The key. I’m coming in. I hope you’re dressed.” He laughed, as he tore open the old creaky door.

  A musty sad emptiness flooded and silently buried Sam’s enthusiasm. No one and no sound pierced the reality. He stared into the darkness. He was alone.

  In the room’s core was a dusty old string attached to a naked light bulb. Sam reached into the gloom and pulled the cord. He released it and watched as it hypnotically swung back and forth and soft light gently bathed the interior.

  Suddenly shivering, he gazed around and spotted the old wood, which was piled near the dirt covered fireplace. He brushed off the grate, heaped some of the fuel into the pit, and searched for a match. There at the back of the cupboard sat a half full box of matches and to Sam’s delight- two old fashion cans of soup. Scrounging hungrily for a can opener, his stomach eagerly rumbled. “Aha! Gotcha,” Sam gloated as his fingers closed on the metal of a rusty opener and eagerly sawed open one can. He wondered for a moment how old the soup was, since it didn’t have a pop-open top. He brushed the thought away. Hell, he really didn’t care, his stomach was churning with unfettered urgent expectation. Sam devoured the thick vegetable mix and sighed.

  “Ah, delicious! Best soup I’ve ever had. Thanks, Sean. Now to light this fuel and I’ll be warm and cozy. I appreciate the wood and the food. You know how to make a loving brother feel at home,” He smiled as he lit the crumbling wood which sparkled and snapped into flames. Dragging his creaking chair over to the fire, Sam gulped down the second can of soup. Satiated, he leaned back in his chair and absorbed the enveloping warmth of the fire.

  But his happy contentment suddenly dissolved into uneasiness. He loved mysteries, but this one bothered him terribly. This involved the only family he had left. He felt inadequate and helpless, and yet he knew that there was more to know, and he would find out. But for now, he had to make himself stop thinking. He was tired, really tired.

  Sam dragged his body to the old cot at the side of the room and shook out the blanket at its foot. Dust flittered about in the air. He stared into the particles and tried to make sense of what he hoped would soon be explained. He wasn’t sure if he’d like the true details, however. He brushed aside a foreboding, and sank onto the bed. He pulled up the old cover.

  Sleep began to grab and wrap him into its protection, for this night anyway. He would rest, which was good. He needed the sleep, and yet he couldn’t help but feel that the new day might bring great difficulties.

  The night seemed to whisper into his dreams that he was probably right.

  CHAPTER 3

  Sam woke refreshed, physically, but his brother weighed heavily on his mind. Where was he?

  He straightened the crumpled blanket and tucked it in with saddened carefulness. Suddenly his fingers touched an object under the mattress- a something that didn’t belong. It felt like a small book. His heart raced as he tugged it out and opened it carefully. There was Sean’s name in his familiar careful penmanship. Sam flipped to the first page. Sean’s journal. His breath caught in his throat. Time seemed to stop, as he sank onto the bed. He read as he gently turned the pages.

  Sam enters Sean’s world. He beamed with brotherly joy as he read of Sean and Kate’s love. But as the confessions continued, his exuberance dissolved. Sean’s marriage turned rocky. They had worked together until he became ill. He had contracted an incurable cancerous growth.

  “Whoa!” Sam jerked up, hitting his head on the slanted ceiling near the cot. “That can’t be true!” he cried out. “Sean, you’re a genetic engineer, you’re brilliant. You’re the picture of health, kindness, and domesticity. You can’t be sick. You are also my brother and I love you.” Sam’s chest felt like it was viciously stomped upon.

  He forced himself to continue reading- Sean was desperate for a cure, and then he began to have hope. He was running experiments on himself. The company had given him funding. He felt euphoria that his illness had been arrested and possibly cured. And then…he began gloating with superiority over the stupidity of his aides.

  Cold cruel words now tumbled off the pages. Sean no longer had any use for Kate and the kids, but she refused to leave. She did, however, take the children to her mother’s. She stayed for a time, and then returned. They fought, and she had cried. She finally left, and Sean was happy. He said that he no longer missed Kate and the children. He wanted to continue his work unhindered. He realized that he felt no love for them anymore, only indifference and pity. But his work- he needed and fed on his work.

  “No, Sean, no!” Sam whispered in anguish as his hands trembled. He almost dropped the book. He forced himself to continue reading:

  “July 5. I have made fantastic strides. Mekka has been supportive, but his intellect has not grown as fast as mine. He is not altering his serum at the stages that I apply. Foolish man. I have to take control. We are building a network beyond that which anyone has ever done before. And, people of power have become interested in my studies. I have selected further subjects also, so many that I am amused. They are all here…for my work and me! I am amazing myself.

  July 10. I must make myself write every five days. However, I lose track of time. But then, maybe time is not important, certainly not compared with my experiments and observations… It’s strange how I’ve changed. I notice that I am fascinated with colors in my environment. In fact, I’ve sensed auras in different colors and the bright colors are preferred. They ex
cite and comfort me. The bland ones with black and tan shades create painful confusion in me and cannot be tolerated.

  July 15. Time has begun to terrify me. I have covered all the clocks.

  July 20. My subjects are so simple minded, compared to me. I am so far above them intellectually. I feel like a God. I’m special. I can’t help but succeed.

  July 25. I’m experiencing severe head pain. I am trying to control it. A genius should feel no pain, but I have faith that the pain is only temporary. I will overcome. I think that I must evolve and pass through barriers in order to be all powerful and superior.”

  Sam turned the page and gasped. The remaining pages were filled with chemical equations in a rainbow of colors, as if a child was playing with markers, but this child was one of genius capabilities. Sam closed the book sharply. These entries were those of a stranger. He felt sick.

  Sean had been the nicest guy anyone could know. That talk with Sean so many years ago leaped into Sam’s mind. He remembered.

  #

  Sean had grasped Sam’s shoulders when he had started to shake violently. It was that night in the hospital. Sam had been badly injured during the Iraq War.

  “I can’t do it anymore, Sean, I …I…just can’t...So much death. What could I have done better? I don’t know. Tell me. Tell me.”

  Sean held him still, forcing Sam to look into his eyes. “You did everything right. You were a hero. Stop punishing yourself.”

  Sean’s deep brown eyes, they were so kind and yet he fought them

  “Look at me, Sam. You have a right to ask for a quiet assignment now. You’ve done enough for your country. The big shots will understand.”

  Sam pawed at his eyes with bandaged hands and struggled to sit up. “I couldn’t save them. I was their leader. They trusted me. I keep seeing their faces. I wish I had died too.”

  “Stop it. You were all shot up.” Sean snapped. “What do you expect of yourself? It was an ambush. The higher ups gave you bad intelligence. You’re a Special Forces soldier who did his best. In fact, you did great. You’re getting medals, and you deserve them.” Sean wiped the sweat from Sam’s face and eased him back on the bed.