by Roman Shepp
Severed Connection
The Beginning Book 1
Roman Shepp
Copyright © 2018 by Roman Shepp
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Prologue
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
Prologue
It was a night like any other for the citizens of the United States of America, but it soon would turn into a night the world never would forget. The average American didn't expect anything to happen other than for them to go to bed, rest their weary heads, and begin the daily grind again the following morning. But their lives were about to change in almost incomprehensible ways.
Tony Jordan, a young loner, was closing the comic book store at which he worked. Surrounded by visions of heroes and epic destinies, he always had dreamed of being like them, but now, at twenty-five years of age, his youth was behind him. The fear of the future had taken hold. Did he see himself working at the comic book store forever? It wasn't a career with many opportunities and he often felt as though he was spinning his wheels. He knew he had something inside him that was special, but he did not know how to express it. There was nobody special in his life. So, he spent his days escaping in the pages of his favorite comic books, losing himself in the fantastic adventures of the larger than life heroes. He wished that just once he could have the opportunity to shine like them and prove he could make a difference in the world.
After sliding the key in the lock and securing the door, he saw his dim reflection in the store windows, outlined against a cardboard cutout of Superman. Superman stood with his hands on his hips, broad shoulders held back, and head tilted toward the sky. Tony's shoulders were hunched, and his eyes usually scanned the ground. Sighing, he looked up at the Moon and wondered how many people needed help that night. Not that he ever would do anything about it. With his feet shuffling along the ground Tony made his way home, wondering when the day would come where his life would change, and he'd get out of this rut in which he was stuck.
Saeed Hussain crouched beside his daughter's bed, brushing her dark hair away from her face. Little Aaminah was sleepy, but she was beautiful. Her father was reflected in her dark brown eyes. Her skin was as smooth as silk. Saeed's heart never had known love like it, not even for his wife. His entire body flowed with a power that was as sweet as honey and as powerful as a hurricane. Sometimes when he looked at his daughter he cried for no reason. He leaned over and kissed her goodnight, his thick black beard tickling her and making her laugh. He told her to dream well and left her door ajar.
Returning to his Nadya, his wife, he kissed her tenderly. She remarked that she should be jealous that he loved another girl more than her. Saeed looked longingly to Aaminah's bedroom and agreed with Nadya. His daughter meant everything to him. Aaminah was his whole world. Nadya chuckled to herself and led him into the bedroom where they enjoyed they marital intimacy. Afterward, his skin glistening with sweat, Saeed leaned back in contentment. He had the perfect life and couldn't ask for anything more. He leaned over to kiss Nadya good night, and she murmured something unintelligible. She always was falling asleep more quickly than him. Saeed pulled the covers over himself and closed his eyes, eager for another day to begin.
Jane Watson was chewing her bottom lip, pulling off the skin. She tasted blood. She was sitting down since she knew that if she got up, she would be pacing across the floor, and that wouldn't be good for anybody. Her eyes continually darted toward the clock. She tugged nervously at her red hair and her green eyes were bloodshot. Her pale skin was whiter than usual, and she couldn't remember when she last had eaten.
“Just be quiet,” Frank Osborn snapped.
His hands curled tightly around a glass of whiskey. The ice clinked as he raised it to his mouth and gulped down the golden liquid. He put the glass on the table. Its base wobbled against the thick mahogany. Frank adjusted his tie and smoothed down his black suit. Jane couldn't help but think to herself that black was an appropriate color to wear on this particular day.
“How can I be? We must do something!” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. Her stomach churned. It was all she could do to not throw up.
“We don't have to do anything. The only thing I'm doing is going back to my wife,” Frank snarled.
Jane bowed her head. He wasn't even going to kiss her goodbye. There was a time when he had been affectionate. She wasn't sure when things had changed. Jane shook her head and when she went to speak only incoherent words fell out of her mouth. Tears stung her eyes, and she soon tasted their saltiness. She wasn't weeping for herself, though. She was weeping for everyone else. They didn't know what was coming.
On the outskirts of the city Quentin Beck was in a convention center. There was a carnival atmosphere as a swarm of people moved between the stalls and the attractions. There were so many vendors Quentin barely could believe the sight of them. Most of them were selling merchandise, some official, some homemade. The crowd was stifling, though, and Quentin found it difficult to breathe. He tried remembering his breathing techniques but it was difficult. Sweat beaded on his temples and he felt his head go light and fuzzy. When he closed his eyes, he was in the arid desert again. The sounds of gunfire echoed in the distance. His brother soldiers called to him. He looked around and--
“There you are!” He opened his eyes and looked at Carol. Her sweet face was the only thing that kept him sane at times and he didn't know what he would have done without her. She was his rock. Accompanied by her brothers and the rest of their friends, she walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek.
“It's getting late, do you want to head back to the hotel?” she asked.
Quentin looked around. The place was filled with opportunities to escape. There were so many fantasy worlds contained within these walls, and yet, still he could not escape the reality that haunted and scarred his mind.
“No, I... I think we should stay a while longer. We're only here for a few days. We should try making the most of it. We can sleep when we're dead,” he said, smiling sadly at his joke.
Carol squeezed his hand. The rest of them whooped in delight and went back out, disappearing among the crowd. Quentin looked around at all the people dressed up in costumes, then looked down at himself. He looked a little silly, he thought, but he had worn a costume a long time ago too. If only he could stop thinking about the past...
Bracing himself, he walked with Carol and immersed himself in the worlds that were all around him, hoping that they could dull the pain.
Most people were asleep when the ground trembled. Terrorists had managed to get to vital points in the power grids that ran like veins throughout the country. Explosions rang out and immediately the cities of America were plunged into darkness. Not only were the power grids attacked, but EMP devices were activated as well, rendering every piece of electrical equipment impotent. Cries of sorrow could be heard across the country as people died due to pacemakers failing. Cars crashed, their tires screeching as they slammed into each other. Planes f
ell from the sky and landed in a smoldering wreck. Hospitals were chaos, and the economy was in the gutter. A new post-apocalyptic world dawned, borne from tears and ashes.
Chapter One
Tony yawned and awakened in darkness. He rarely ever had a full night's sleep, which he put down to not being as active as he should be. He often looked at his thin arms and pudgy belly and wished he had more motivation to improve his fitness. The intention was there but the follow-through was lacking. This night was different, though. Outside he could hear screams. He threw off the sheets and walked to the window, pulling the curtains back slightly so he could peer out.
The Moon and stars shone down but something was different. He gasped. It was the lights. None of them were on. In the gloomy shadows of the Moon he could make out some figures running around in panic. In the distance he could see smoke rising and the glow of fires. He twisted his neck as he heard other cries for help, ones that were closer, in his building. Then he heard glass smashing. Immediately he thought of the store and all the valuable comics inside. He grabbed his cell phone and his keys after quickly pulling on some clothes and left his apartment, wondering what on Earth had happened.
As he walked through his building he heard snippets of conversations. Some people seemed convinced the world was going to end. Others were sure that help would come, and everyone just needed to calm down. From the sounds of it nobody was calm at all. The tension in the air was palpable and Tony walked hurriedly. He was wearing a hoodie and pulled the hood over his head, trying to hide from the world. He had no idea what had happened, but it evidently had been something bad. The cries of help had subsided and he assumed people just were scared about being in the dark.
The air was cool and sweet. The streets were somewhat empty. In the distance he could hear people. Although he didn't encounter any. He lived just a short walk from the comic book store. He hoped Ben was there, just so Tony had someone he could share this experience with. He always had been a loner who hated being alone. Jumping as he heard a loud shriek, he wished he didn't feel the knot of fear twisting in his stomach. He always had imagined himself in a situation like this, a chance to be a hero, just like his idols. Although at the moment he just wanted to be in a safe place. His throat was dry, and his eyes darted around the area, searching for danger.
Thinking about his heroes, he wished he was more like them. Superheroes such as Batman, Superman, Captain America, and Spider-Man would have been running into the heart of danger right now, trying to save people. Tony just was going to a brick and mortar store, but at least that was better than sitting in his apartment. He wanted to be stronger and braver like them. Deep down he knew he had strength, but it was as though it was locked inside him and he wasn't entirely sure how to free that aspect of himself.
Instantly, he was hit with a feeling of guilt knowing he hadn't tried helping the people in his apartment building. He'd been living there for three years now and had yet to make any firm friends with them, but that wouldn't have mattered to Superman. He would have helped people no matter what, and so should have Tony. But all he cared about was the precious comic book store. It wasn't even like Tony owned it, but it was the only thing that really mattered in his life. The rest of his life was filled with an escape into fantasy and he had not cultivated the reality of his life at all well. There was no girlfriend, his parents had died a long time ago, and his only friends were the regular customers at the store. There were times when Tony thought his life was pitiful and now he trembled with fear because everything he knew was in disarray.
As he walked he tried checking his cell phone to see what was happening, but it wouldn't work. There was just nothing there. The streetlights were dark. There were no sounds of cars either. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the store was unharmed. He walked up to the door and was thankful the Moon was so bright. Fumbling with his keys, he managed to steady his hand enough to open the door, and quickly closed it behind him in case anyone tried getting in. Out of habit he went to flick on the lights and then cursed at himself. It must have been a citywide power outage, but that didn't explain why he heard no cars.
It was a curious situation, and he thought it was best to sit tight in the store and wait for Ben to arrive, but he didn't want to sit in the dark. So, Tony rummaged around the storeroom. It had only a narrow window, so he mostly was fumbling around blindly. He soon found some matches and a candle, which he quickly lit and carried back with him to the counter. Sighing, he sat down behind the counter and looked at all the superhero imagery that was illuminated in the candle’s soft glow. In this moment, he was inspired.
Struck by a thought, Tony grabbed his keys again and went to the safe, where the most valuable comics were stored. They still were there. Then Tony tilted his head as he thought to himself that if this all really all happening, then none of this mattered. All that surrounded him was pointless in the grand scheme of things. In truth, it had been on his mind for a long time. He had used comics and this job as a crutch for not really living his life for himself.
When he thought about the future he was filled with anxiety. He didn't know how he was going to afford to live out the rest of his life. He was alone, and the thought of growing old with nobody looking after him shook him to his core. There had been many cases where people had died and not been discovered for weeks because they had no friends. Tony didn't want to end up like them. He was sure the government would get things sorted out soon. They always did, after all, but he saw this as an opportunity to reflect on his life and make some firm changes.
“I'm going to do it,” he said to Superman.
“I'm going to be more like you. I can't wait for a sign any longer. I just have to make the changes myself. When the electricity comes back on, I'm going to apply for some proper jobs. Maybe I'll even write that comic book I've been meaning to work on.” He smiled as he thought about that. He hadn't put pen to paper for a while, but this seemed the perfect opportunity. Without any other distractions this was the perfect time to let his creative juices flow.
Then he heard a loud noise and realized that people were making a commotion outside. They were animals, he thought, too willing to indulge their darker impulses when faced with something such as this. What they should have done was stayed in their homes and waited for it to pass, but they panicked and only made things worse for themselves, and for him. Tony cowered under the counter, fear seizing him, and once again he wished he had bulletproof skin or radioactive blood. He pulled his knees toward him and closed his eyes, hoping nobody would enter the store. Then he remembered the baseball bat that Ben kept there just in case of emergencies such as this one. At least it might be enough to scare people off. He curled his hands around the handle of the bat and rose, determined he was not going to lose his life because he was afraid.
Adrenaline surged through his blood as he walked toward the door and waited for the rioters to approach. The sound of glass being smashed made him turn his head to the right and then he saw them, a small group of teenagers sauntering forward as though they owned the world. Tony's mouth ran dry, but he tried channeling the courageous part of himself, although he had to search through the fog in his brain first. Exhaling slowly, he flung open the door and told himself all he had to do was fake being angry and they would believe it. For all they knew he was some kind of maniac ready to kill anyone who threatened him.
“Keep moving!” he shouted, waving the baseball bat above his head.
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do?” one of them shouted. He had a bottle in his hand. Tony thought he saw the gleaming metal of a knife as well. He raised his voice and stepped forward, swinging his bat even more violently.
“I'll kill ya!” he growled, and almost couldn't believe the words had come out of his mouth.
“He's crazy,” one of them said to the others, and they quickly scampered away to easier targets.
Tony smiled as he patted the end of the bat against his hand. He wasn't sure that, if the time came, h
e actually would be able to use it though. For someone who had spent his life reading about people who used violence to solve problems Tony never had been one to get involved in fights. He couldn't even say he had been bullied, not really anyway. His life had been one without many traumatic incidents, and his mettle never truly had been tested.
Returning to the counter, Tony decided to stay and wait for Ben to arrive. He was going to defend the only thing that had given his life meaning. Then in the morning he would figure out what to do. His eyelids grew heavy as he thought about the future of his life. It only would last one night, he was sure of that, and then he would make changes. He would work on his comic book and find a way to get himself out of the endless cycle of monotony that was his life.
The morning sun rose, and Tony awakened to a loud boom. Looking around, he saw the store was unharmed, for which he was glad. He opened the door and ran outside, still holding the baseball bat. Stopping on the sidewalk he looked up at the sky. Two planes had crashed into the city, making surrounding buildings shake. Tony almost couldn't believe what he just had seen. The color drained from his face. The baseball bat fell from his hand and clattered on the ground, rolling around his feet, coming to rest against one of his sneakers. The planes must have been gliding out of control for hours. Suddenly he realized everything wasn't going to be alright. All those people. All those souls...
In a daze, he picked up the baseball bat and wandered back into the store. He looked at all the stories surrounding him. They all seemed so empty, so hollow now. How many people had died overnight? Was this going to come to an end? He sat there for a while and wondered if it was even worth carrying on. He had yet to do anything worthwhile with his life and it did not seem as though that was going to change. But how could he kill himself with all the superheroes around him? They never would have given up. The only way to meet adversity was with everything you had, to fight to the end, no matter what.