SECRETS & LOST
Science Fiction Short Stories
Book 1& 2
Written & Edited by:
Erik R. Van Asch -- Anthony Pendleton -- Mark Fetterolf
Susan Brookshire -- Travis Gruber
Copyright © 2013
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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Why We Wrote, “SECRETS”
Mark Fetterolf, Anthony Pendleton and I have been working together at the same company for nearly ten years. We quickly bonded as friends due to our common interest in science fiction and fantasy media (book, movies, games, etc).
In 2007, we found all three of us participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo.org). We often met up during our lunch breaks to write like madmen for this crazy challenge, as we attempted to complete our individual projects within thirty days.
For the 2010 NaNoWriMo we started writing within the same genre / theme. For instance, one year we challenged ourselves to write a supernatural, contemporary, mystery story (yes, all in one novel).
It was a lot of fun to see how we each approached this challenge from different perspectives and from very different writing styles. Thus, in 2013 when we started throwing around the idea of writing in the same genre of science fiction, this project came into being.
We love to read. We love to write.
We hope you love these short stories and can find a moment of escape and entertainment. Sit back and enjoy the different writing styles set in a science fiction genre, with a common theme of: SECRETS.
Regards,
Erik R. Van Asch
Why We Wrote, “LOST”
In 2013 after we finished SECRETS: Science Fiction Short Stories Book 1, we found we had more words that needed writing and quickly started the next project. As we promoted that first book with friends, family, and co-workers, we discovered Travis and Susan who had wonderful and different writing styles to our own. We didn’t hesitate to include them in on this new effort.
We hope you love these short stories and can find a moment of escape and entertainment. Sit back and enjoy the different writing styles set in a science fiction genre, with a common theme of: LOST.
Regards,
The Authors
Table of Contents
Why We Wrote, “SECRETS”
Why We Wrote, “LOST”
Table of Contents
SUITS by Anthony Pendleton
EVE by Mark Fetterolf
THE WATERS by Erik R. Van Asch
THE GOD FREQUENCY by Mark Fetterolf
REAPING THE WHIRLWIND by Erik R. Van Asch
PLACE TO CALL HOME by Anthony Pendleton
THE FAME MONSTER by Travis Gruber
IMMORTALITY by Mark Fetterolf
OVER THE RIDGE by Anthony Pendleton
LOST by Susan Brookshire
VESSEL by Travis Gruber
MY BROTHER’S KEEPER by Erik R. Van Asch
About The Authors
Books By The Authors
SUITS by Anthony Pendleton
My name is Jim Parker, maintenance tech at Centra Energy. I dunno why I’m bothering to write this journal, but someone has to know, to find out in case… in case they get to me.
It all started last night – November 14th, in case it matters – Carl Walters, one of the high-up execs for Centra, was working late at the office. I was patching up a problem relay box outside when I heard the screaming. Saw him run outside before two men in dark suits chased him down and… cut his head off with some sort of dimly glowing sword. Guy crumpled to the ground, they just picked up his head and started walking off.
The dumbass I am, bumped up against my tool bag, knocked a wrench loose and it clattered against some conduit piping, loud as hell. Figured they must be deaf or dumb when they just kept on going, but two more of their buddies came out from Building A, heading right for me. Left my things and just high-tailed it out, right quick. Think I’ve lost ‘em.
Slept it out at Jones Miriam Park, too damn spooked to go home. Got in touch with Marty down at the precinct – detective, cousin of mine – to report what I’d seen but, get this… he had no clue who Carl was. The man had bunked with him in college and just up and forgot he ever existed. Thought he was pulling my leg, but he was plenty mad when I kept pressing him on it… something’s going on here. Nothing on the news, people forgetting a man was ever alive…
Think I’m fine for now, haven’t seen any of the suits since last night, just real jittery. Gunna dig into this thing, have a feeling I haven’t seen the last of ‘em.
November 15th – Day
I’m not crazy!
Chuck Peters, down in accounting, he was here last night, too. Working on some kind of proposal late for Carl… anyways, he saw the whole thing from the second floor of Building C. Spotted that group of Suits – taken to calling ’em that, works for now – coming after me. Saw me give ‘em the slip behind those big, electronics recycling bins, followed out once they gave up and left. Flagged me down right after I got done writing all this out yesterday, gave me one hell of a start.
We seem to be the only ones who remember Carl for some reason, think it has something to do with the fact that we saw the whole thing. Not real sure.
Chuck thinks they’re tailing us... maybe we can turn the tables and shadow ‘em, figure out what they’re doing. Gotta be careful, though, don’t wanna lose my head just quite yet.
November 16th – Day
Took a big risk today - headed back to Centra for some supplies I think might help us down the road. Got a shipment of these camera motion detectors that I’ve been putting off installing over in Building B’s cafeteria… pain to mount. I figure we can set ‘em up outside a motel room, get some advanced warning if the Suits come for us again.
Chuck’s turning out to be a pretty stand-up guy, never got the chance to talk much before. Facilities and finance, not much water cooler chat there. Good lookout man, though, just the right amount of paranoid. Almost lost it when he saw Janine from legal strolling by in that same, black three-piece the other Suits wear, had a good laugh there.
Who knows, maybe we’ll get some better sleep with those cameras now... doubt it though.
November 16th – Night
They came at us hard before we had a chance to set those cam sensors up. Chuck spotted ‘em while going for ice down the hallway, had enough sense to haul back to the room and bolt the door before they could push their way in. Says he spotted five or six of the Suits before they started bashing the door down. Managed to skitter out through a rear window and off in Chuck’s Honda two-seater – my idea to park it out back, just in case something like this happened.
Didn’t bother following us for some reason, but we got a good look at those sword things as we were tearing out of there. Thin as paper, some kind of blue glow coming off ‘em, nothing like I’ve ever seen before.
Can’t say how glad I am to have Chuck with me. Makes me feel like we might actually have a shot at figuring this all out.
November 17th – Day
We’re in dangerous territory now…
Heading to a new motel down on Gaines Avenue, this black sedan swings out in front of us, screeching to a halt. Casual as anything, one of those Suits steps out of the car, staring right at us. First instinct was to run him down, but something wasn’t right. Hadn’t seen the Suits travel alone before. He called out to us, hands up and no sword on him. Said he’s one of ‘em, “cast out from their ranks” or something, wouldn’t explain. Was in my right mind to just bolt – Chuck was getting real jumpy himself – but he says he can help us fight back.
Maybe I’m stupid but I’ve decided to take him in. Chuck thinks I’m nuts, says we can’t trust him around, he’ll just kill us in our sleep. Everything in me wants to agree with him, but we don’t know anything about these Suits and this one might be our best bet.
Calls himself “Nine.” Wears these dark glasses, thin metal rims, same as the others. First time seeing one up so close… damn near lost it when I saw his eyelids blink sideways... what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?
At the Cozy Inn now, got the cam sensors up, for what it’s worth. Gotta pry something out of this Nine before we run out of time. Lots of sleepless nights ahead - one eye on the cameras, another on our new “friend.”
November 17th – Night
Came at us again, just a few hours after I went down for some shuteye. Chuck was on watch - for the Suits out there and the one in here - caught ‘em coming well ahead of time, those sensors spotting ‘em on night vision easy. Managed to grab our things and slip out through the attached room before they got close.
Nine lagged behind when we legged it to Chuck’s car... the other Suits just stopped all of a sudden and turned our way, all staring at him. Didn’t try chasing us down, just stared... watching him with this confused look on their face. Do they know Nine’s a turncoat? Can they sense him somehow?
Pushed him for information in the car after we hauled out of there, but he’s still stonewalling. Chuck asked him if the other Suits could track him down somehow, any kind of surveillance... Nine got quiet at that for a minute. Finally said he wasn’t sure but that he could take care of any of ‘em that got too close. Caught something when he said that, twinge around the eyes... definitely some history there he doesn’t want to get into.
Made it out clear, Chuck says that’s the important thing. No time to take the cam sensors with us but they did the job - call it a fair trade. We’re gunna hit up some smaller stores in the morning, grab what we can and then leave town. I’m with Chuck on this one, they’re just getting closer and closer every night.
Only a matter of time unless we change things up.
November 18th – Day
Chuck is dead.
...
Thought we could split up and get more supplies that way – food, some clothes, and essentials - on the quick before hitting the road. Thought that little 99 cent store was perfect, plenty of people around, good crowd...
I dunno if the Suits had been staking us out, watching our movements the whole time... it was an ambush. Told Chuck I’d stick with Nine, grab him a change of clothes while he went for some bottled water. They were on him before we had a chance, singled him out once we were far enough apart. Pack of ‘em, cornered him in an aisle and just tore him apart, didn’t even bother taking his head off. Few others up front pulled out some badges, kept the other folks in the store back.
One of ‘em, closest to Nine and I, just stood there watching us. Making sure we saw... sending us a message.
Nine had to drag me away, out the rear loading door. Says I was thrashing around like a madman. Don’t remember.
Don’t want to.
November 18th – Night
Must’ve been twenty or thirty of ‘em. Came at us from everywhere, fast - front door, side exit, parking lot, through the windows... no easy running from this one. Blood in the water.
Too damn many, tried to press ‘em back with a chair but one got close. Took my arm off, sword slipped through it like butter. Didn’t even cut through my shirt, just me – arm flopped right out of the sleeve, not a lick of blood. Barely even hurt, more like a tickle and then… nothing.
Rest of ‘em came at me in a rush, would have taken my head too if not for Nine. Burst through the bathroom door like a wild man, tore his glasses off, rage etched in his face. Tore into the lot of ‘em with his bare hands, none of their swords even came close he was moving so fast.
Took the opening, ran clear out of there and didn’t look back… left Nine to die… just like Chuck. Nine made it out somehow - covered in blood, everything real quiet back at the motel. Found me slumped up against the car, staring at my missing arm. Says they’re pushing too hard, spending too much time on us for no good reason, but won’t explain what that means. Driving me nuts. Says he’ll explain it all soon.
Holding my breath on that one.
November 19th – Day
Nine went out to get some pain killers for me – arm’s starting to hurt a lot more now, getting worse. Things are getting way out of control and it’s only a matter of time before I’m dead. With that stuck in my head, I decided to take my chances with the police again. Figured I could head down there, talk some sense into Marty, get him to believe me now that they’d cut my damn arm off.
One problem… no one at the station knew who Marty was. Been working there for going on fifteen years… they got to him, Suits must’ve found out I’d been talking to him. Left the station stunned, unsure of what to do, when this old lady pulls me into a side alley and tells me she “knows.” Figured it was some crazy bat at first - grubby raincoat, mismatched clothes, pack rat shopping cart - but something in her eyes…
Listened to her story – Alice, that’s her name – told me things. The Suits… “skull takers” she calls ‘em, trying to save their world, whatever that means. She speaks so fast and erratic, words tripping over each other as they tumble out, barely making any sense. The swords they carry, something about harvesting souls for the “greater good,” a “necessary evil.” Gave me this narrow-eyed, predator’s look after she said it, grating out that I have “quite the powerful soul” myself... gave me the cold shivers.
Convinced her to come with and meet a “mutual friend.” Nine was just getting back to the motel parking lot with some lifted morphine when they saw each other. Damn near got to tearing each other apart before I cut in, each screaming that I couldn’t trust the other, on and on.
I don’t trust either of ‘em. Hell, I barely trust myself anymore… but at least now I feel like I’m starting to piece things together. Just gotta make sure I keep all my pieces together while I figure it all out…
November 19th – Night
They’re never going to stop until I’m dead. I’m sure of it now.
Came at us in waves this time to pin us down, even more of ‘em. Used the roof access ladder Nine spotted to backtrack across the building, made a clear break for it while he held them off in drabs as we ran. Didn’t even notice Alice wasn’t with us - everything moving so fast again - until I heard this cackling laugh down below from the roof.
There she was, standing beside one of the Suits, pointing her knobby little finger at me. Shrill little voice, “the one we need, take his head!” Eyes bloodshot red, crazed... unnatural.
Nine pulled me back, shook me out of it. He’s trying to keep me alive for some reason, I’m starting to figure that out now. Ran again. Always running…
I think I’m done running.
November 20th – Day
Nine convinced me to take it easy today, rest up and take some of that morphine he found. Starting to see him less like someone I have to watch my back around and more like a... I dunno, a protector. I think that’s important, somehow.
I know it is.
Felt bad about letting him go out there alone, but he said it’s time to bring the “Emperor” into this. Started telling him off, shutting the idea down from go, but he asked if I w
anted to either keep at what we’re doing now or start ending it. Lost my steam, can’t say I don’t agree with what he’s saying... doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.
Didn’t come back until late, seven or eight hours gone at least, looking like he’d been wrung through it and beat exhausted. Brought him back though... the Emperor. Same looking suit as the others but stark, linen white - not a speck of dirt or thread out of place. No bigger than Nine or myself but his... something about his presence, makes it feel like he towers over us.
Nine says he’s the rightful leader of his people or some such thing, that this group of Suits coming after us are from a rival faction. I can tell he’s not giving me the whole story, sliding past the details. All in the damn details. Opened my mouth to get grilling the Emperor... he shot me this hard look, shut it back like a trap.
Everything’s moving so fast now, feels like I’m losing control, taking a backseat to it all. Nine says the Emperor can get me clear of all this if we help him.
We... not sure how I got roped into this crap but looks I’m hitched to this wagon for better or worse.
I think it’s for worse.
November 23rd – Night
Just came to, three days later. Can’t remember much of what happened when they attacked, but I know it was fast. Fast and brutal. I think the Suits are starting to figure Nine and the Emperor working together with me spells bad news for them. Probably why they sent so many this time around.
Had to’ve been at least a few dozen this time, too many to count, just kept coming. I remember Nine wading into them, those rage-filled eyes again, drew most of the attention. They came at the Emperor slow, gave him a wide berth. Saw him put a few down no trouble with the same kind of sword the others use, plenty clear he’s a lot more skilled than the rest. Took one of ‘em myself when I got cornered, reached down to pick up his dropped sword, figured I could keep ‘em back with it. Seemed to just send ‘em all into a crazed frenzy, launched themselves at me in a rush before Nine or the Emperor could come help...
Science Fiction Short Stories Books 1 & 2: Twelve Engaging Sci-Fi Tales (One Mind, Different Voices Series) Page 1