Desolace
Omnibus Edition
Books 1-7
By
Lucian Barnes
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012-2016 by Lucian Barnes
Edited by Melissa Ringsted
Kindle Edition
Cover artwork copyright © 2016 by Mostcool Media, Inc.
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Also by Lucian Barnes
Novels
Destined for Darkness
EL-204
Wasteland
Desolace Series
Desolace
Haven : Desolace II
Outpost 13 : Desolace III
City of the Dead : Desolace IV
Cemetery Hill : Desolace V
The Tree of Life : Desolace VI
Throne of the Gods : Desolace VII
This book is dedicated to my readers, who brave the horrific tales that I weave with open arms, hearts, and imaginations! You are the best fans an author could hope for, and I thank you all for taking this journey with me.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Desolace
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
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
Haven
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Outpost 13
Part One
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
Part Two
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
Part Three
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
City of the Dead
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
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
Cemetery Hill
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
The Tree of Life
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Throne of the Gods
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Author's Note
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Foreword
Most novel writers likely aspire to create at least one epic story in their career. When the original ideas began to form within my mind for the concept of the Desolace series, I felt it could be such a tale. It was certainly complex enough to warrant the possibility. Although, when I started to write the first book, I don't think I truly realized the years of work the series would drain from my soul, or the countless hours of having characters screaming in my head for attention.
On an average day, I welcomed these intrusions into my thoughts. It meant that my characters had something to say, oftentimes a persistent barrage of instructions for me on where they felt the story should go. George Mancini was the worst of the lot. He would nag me night and day until I finally relented to his wishes. His desire was focused, and his determination to bend me to his will was almost like being held for ransom. Damn your preconceived ideas and your outline! You will do as I say, or else!
I won't lie. These outbursts from characters would frequently result in my getting headaches so bad they bordered on migraines. However, I learned to take the good with the bad, suffering through the sensation of having a jack-hammer pounding at the wall of my skull. Instead of attempting to force the story where I had originally intended it to go, I allowed the characters to influence the direction of the tale.
George often took advantage of this, using the opportunities which presented themselves to him like a schoolyard bully. What did I expect? After all, in creating his character I was trying to make the ultimate villain, someone readers could band together and unanimously hate. I discovered after writing two or three novels in the series, however, that my plan had backfired. Instead of being repulsed by George, some readers wrote to me and said he was their favorite character. I'm still scratching my head over that. In part, I suppose the unexpected admiration could be blamed on America's fascination with serial killers. Whatever the underlying reason, if a reader enjoys a character enough to continue reading about them, who am I to judge?
For those who are unaware, the original inspiration for the Desolace series came to me after I had read Stephen King's Dark Tower books. The idea of creating a collection of novels of a similar magnitude was enticing to say the least, but in the earliest stages of the Desolace saga I oftentimes felt like I had bit off more than I could chew. For quite some time, I wondered if the world of Desolace was too immense of an undertaking, or if I would ever complete the tale in this lifetime.
Obviously, I have persisted through every conceivable obstacle and finished the series. The evidence is right in your hands. It may have taken years to write, but it was extremely satisfying to finally type "The End". I am proud to have endured the trials of writing such an epic volume. I don't make any guarantees to whether or not you, the reader, will love the story. In fact, it is entirely possible that you could hate it. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. I consider myself blessed that you took the time to pick up my work and give it a chance. If you enjoy this book, please tell your friends and co-workers about it and contemplate leaving a review.
I thank you for your kind indulgence and look forward to speaking to you again after the final act. Until then, turn the lights on to keep the shadows at bay and read on!
Lucian
May 19, 2016
Desolace
Chapter 1
George Mancini sat down in his recliner with the morning newspaper. The headline seemed to jump off the front page at him. Toledo Woman Abducted From Park. A smile crept onto his face as he read. When he was finished, he re-folded the paper and set it aside. From the curled paper, the face of a beautiful red-haired, green-eyed, woman in her mid-twenties named Amber Richards gazed vacantly at the ceiling. George rose and went over to the bookshelf across the room.
Reaching up, he tilted back a book on the shelf titled 'It'. The bookshelf immediately slid to the right. Stepping through the opening, he flipped a switch on the inside of the wall, sending the panel back to its original position.
George stood still for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting inside. He descended down a set of stairs, which curved at the bottom and terminated at a steel door. Pulling a key out of his pants pocket, he unlocked the dead bolt and once inside, he paused to latch it again. Crossing the room, he approached another heavy steel panel installed to act as a sound buffer and unlocked that as well. Stepping inside, he pulled the door closed.
He gazed across the chamber at the slumped figure of a girl, nude and chained, held in place like a marionette. Her flaming red hair, knotted and tangled, hid her face.
He walked across the room and reached out to gently stroke her hair. She recoiled at his touch, trying to withdraw, but was held fast by the chains. She attempted to scream for help, but the gag in her mouth prevented her from doing so.
Grasping her hair, he viciously yanked her head back. “What do you think you’re doing? Do you think you can get away from me? Or maybe you think someone will hear you and come to your rescue?”
Looking into his eyes, hysterical fear making hers seem larger, the woman shook her head, indicating that she had no such delusions.
“You will do whatever I want you to ... when I want you to do it!”
She nodded her head in understanding.
“Playtime is about to begin,” he sneered.
She winced slightly at the malicious intent in his voice, afraid he was about to strike her. Instead, he stepped behind her. A scraping sound, like something being dragged across the concrete floor, echoed throughout the room. A few seconds passed before the noise stopped and he entered her line of sight again, striding toward the door on the other side of the room. After pausing to unlock it, he went through. The distinct sound of the bolt sliding back into place bounced off the cinder block walls.
Once she was reasonably sure he wasn’t coming back right away, she looked around the room, hoping to find a way of freeing herself. Her wrists and ankles were held firmly with leather bands, secured in place with tiny padlocks. There were metal rings on each of these, through which a sturdy looking chain passed, leading to somewhere behind her. By the feel of it, she assumed there was something similar around her throat. The steel links originating from her neck, she saw, led to a large metal ring set in the concrete floor. The chain going through this ring looped back toward itself and had a padlock on it to prevent it from slipping out of place. As she continued to take in the horror of her surroundings, she saw a drainage grate embedded in the stained cement almost directly beneath her.
Suddenly, she heard the dead bolt retracting. The man entered the room again, locking the door behind him. An enormous Rottweiler, with a head the size of a basketball, stood beside him. A leather collar adorned with giant metal spikes circled its neck. Amber was terrified of large dogs, but thankfully this one was on a sturdy looking leash. The man held the strap taut with one hand. In the other he gripped a brown paper sack. The expression on his face sent a shiver down her spine.
Placing the tote on the floor near his feet, he secured the dog to a ring that was attached to the wall. He returned to the grocery bag and rummaged through its contents. Pulling a package of raw hamburger and a Budweiser from it, he sat down on the floor near the bound woman. Ripping open the package, he grabbed a sizable clump of meat and stuffed it into his mouth. As the Rottweiler began to whimper, he dipped his hand back into the container and tossed a large wad of beef in the animal's
direction.
The girl felt saliva building up in her mouth. Her stomach rumbled, drawing his attention to her.
“You getting hungry, Amber?”
Her head snapped up. How does he know my name? As her panic began to build, she reached the conclusion that he likely had her driver’s license in his possession. Realizing that she had not answered his question yet, Amber quickly nodded her head.
“If I take the gag out of your mouth, will you scream?”
She shook her head emphatically.
“Are you telling me the truth?”
Fearing what he would do if she didn't comply, she nodded in agreement.
“I suppose it won’t hurt. Even if you were to scream, no one would hear you anyway.”
Relief showed in her eyes as he stood up. She felt his hands working on the back of her neck. Within moments, she began to feel the gag loosening ... and as quickly as it had begun to release its grip on her mouth, it fell with a wet slap to the floor. A feeling of gratitude swept over her.
“Thank y—” she began to say, only to be silenced by a large clump of meat he had roughly crammed into her mouth, thus silencing her once again. Amber winced and gagged, finding the texture of the raw hamburger repulsive. As she tried to work some of the meat into her throat using her tongue, she caused herself to wretch a little. Even though it made her gag, Amber managed to get enough of it down that she could move her jaws a tiny bit.
Sitting down in front of her, George narrowed his eyes and scrutinized her features as she struggled to swallow the meat he had given her. Opening his beer, he took a long drink from the bottle before setting it back down on the floor. Rising to his feet, he fished his fingers into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. Thumbing through them until he found the one he was looking for, George reached over and unlocked the padlock that held her neck chain to the ring in the floor. As she watched him do this, the meat that was still in her mouth fell to the floor, her jaw dropping open in disbelief. With the downward pressure on her neck gone, she began to entertain thoughts of possible release. He picked up the bottle of beer again, tipped it back, and drained the remaining liquid down his throat. Replacing the empty container on the concrete, he moved behind her. She heard the jangle of keys, followed by the sound of a padlock popping open. Chains began to clink and rattle, and in seconds the pressure had quickly built up on her arms and wrists. When the pain started to subside, Amber realized that she was actually standing upright. Then she heard the click of the lock snapping shut again.
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