Five Minutes After Midnight

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Five Minutes After Midnight Page 17

by A. J. Gallant


  “John, it’s a baby!” Edna couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Who would be so careless? What is this world coming to I ask you.”

  “It’s going right down the toilet, and you know it.” John turned on the outside light and went out, walked around the house, but he wasn’t able to see anyone, never heard a car driving off either. And the strangest thing was that there were no tracks except for his own. He stood and watched his breath take to the air as he shook his head. “I have seen it all. The strangest day I have ever seen, and it’s barely six o’clock. Not even.” John went back inside, and there was yet another deer in the house as Edna had let another one in the back door. A buck with antlers. She shrugged when John glared at her. The baby was sucking on his bottle, and the milk was warm, Edna had checked.

  John cursed.

  “You watch your mouth, there’s a baby in the house.”

  “Well I know that I brought him in, and he only looks to be two months old.”

  “Isn’t he the cutest baby you’ve ever seen?”

  “You're foolish Edna. That buck could kick you and that baby to death, and I’m serious.” John was angry. “What kind of idiot would desert a child like that? We have to call the authorities.”

  “I know that John, I’m not senile. We’ll call tomorrow.”

  Why is it when a woman sees a baby their brains fall out? Taking care of a baby, even overnight, is not gonna be as pleasant as she thinks. He’ll be crying all night. “What do you mean tomorrow? You can’t care for a child. You can barely stand up.”

  “Speak for yourself, you and your broomstick legs. Tomorrow is Christmas, and we’ll call tomorrow. He’ll be our little gift until then.”

  John sat on the sofa and shook his head. “Edna, come on now, we’ve nothing to feed him.”

  “He has eight bottles with him, under a compartment in his cradle. That’s more than enough to see him through the night.”

  “Wish I had eight bottles to see me through the night.” John scratched his head. He may as well argue with himself in the mirror. Was it possible that Edna was in on this? She did appear a bit too comfortable with these animals. This morning was going from odd to downright bizarre, almost more than his thought process could handle. One deer went to the baby and licked him on the forehead and then lay beside him. The raccoon curled up on the other side of him and went to sleep; he’d never seen a raccoon so happy though he had to admit that he hadn’t seen many.

  “You don’t suppose that these animals were waiting for the baby? It sure seems like that to me.” It was a struggle, but Edna got down beside the baby and kissed his forehead. The boy squealed with delight and kicked his feet, stopped sucking his bottle for a moment just to stare at her but then resumed. “I’ll bet you were never this cute John. No, he wasn’t. Isn’t that right little one? Yes, it is.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if a grizzly bear came in here and rocked the child to sleep.” He bent down and checked the baby’s diaper, and he wasn’t wet.

  “Baaaaaaaa!”

  “Oh no. That sounds like a lamb.”

  “John, you let it in.”

  “I will do no such thing. There must be a gas leak; we’re hallucinating all this.”

  “If that’s the case then it won’t matter if you let him in, will it? I have no idea what’s going on here, but the animals want to see the baby. It’s part of whatever this is. Go on now.”

  He begrudgingly let the animal in the house. The sheep entered and made himself comfortable on the sofa, satisfied to be in the presence of the child.

  “Edna, that sheep is in my place.”

  “He’ll get down in a few minutes.”

  “Baaaaaaaaa.”

  “See.”

  “What do you mean, see? You understand sheep now? I can tell you this, if three wise men show up I’m leaving. I wish they’d hurry up with the straight jacket and just take me away.” John got up and did his best to run to the window to see if he could catch someone with a camera.

  Edna laughed. “The last time you ran that fast you had the stomach flu.”

  John went and sat on the other end of the sofa from the sheep, crossed his arms and sulked. As if he needed to be reminded of that.

  “Baaaaaa.”

  “Oh, baaa baaa yourself. I like to eat lamb, what do you think about that?”

  “Baaaaaaa.”

  “Keep your voice down you’ll scare the baby.” Edna sat and gazed at the little one. He was so joyful that she couldn’t help but giggle, had been years since she had gazed at such a young child. “If I were twenty years younger I’d keep him if I could.”

  “We’re almost eighty years old, try fifty years younger.”

  The baby dropped his bottle in the cradle; the baby turned and studied Edna, and then held his hands out for her to take him. At least that’s the way it looked to her.

  She was delighted at the turn of events. “He wants me to pick him up. You are so adorable, yes you are.”

  The first thing that came to John’s mind was that she might fall with him, no matter how careful she was there was no getting beyond that she was feeble, they both were to varying degrees and times. This circus would turn into a nightmare if she fell with the baby. “You could fall with him. Do you want that on your conscience?”

  “He wants me to pick him up. I’ll be careful.” It took some time to get into a comfortable position to pick the baby up, and when Edna stood with him, she did indeed start to fall.

  “Edna!”

  FOUR

  One of the deer stood up and steadied her before John could get to Edna, and then she felt strong enough to hold him, forced herself to stand up straighter than usual. There was no way she was going to be responsible for injuring the child. Edna sat on the beige rocker chair with the baby and began to rock. He was radiating warmth as he closed his eyes and went to sleep. “This has to be what’s it’s like in heaven; he’s sleeping. Look at that sweet face.”

  “That would explain a lot Edna, but this can’t be heaven because I’m still old and tired. What are we going to do with these animals?” The lamb moved closer to John and then snuggled up. He looked down at it and shook his head. The old man was going to tell it that he was sure it would taste good for supper but decided against it.

  Edna couldn’t stop staring at the child. “I hate to say it, but when this beautiful boy leaves tomorrow, the animals will go too.”

  “You hate to say it? This is our house, not a barn.” He was tempted to tell her that she was crazy to want to keep a house full of animals, but what was the point of it now. John’s Timex showed that it was almost six-thirty. He closed his eyes and drifted off, all this excitement had taken a lot out of him. After about fifteen minutes, he awoke to see his wife all aglow, illuminated by a bright light as if she had a bulb inside of her. Not only that but she looked years younger, instead of seventy-nine she looked fifty, even her hair had a lot less gray. The child kicked and woke her up.

  Edna checked the baby’s diaper, and he still wasn’t wet, placed him in the bamboo cradle and gave him another bottle. She stood up, and she looked puzzled, no stunned. Something was wrong, no different. Edna felt great. No more excruciating pain in her back and legs and the headache that never left from arthritis in her neck was negligible. “Oh my God, John! I feel amazing! I feel twenty years younger. What’s wrong with you?”

  He was standing with his mouth open, if not in shock close to it. “I swear you look thirty years younger. Look in the mirror!”

  Edna didn’t take the chair lift. Instead, she ran up the stairs though she was winded when she got to the top. In the washroom, she couldn’t believe her eyes, those deep-set wrinkles around them significantly diminished. She touched her face repeatedly. “Oh my goodness, I look fifty again. It’s a real miracle. But miracles are not real? Has to be the baby.” Must be a dream. She started to cry. “I can take care of myself now. John, we don’t have to sell the house! Look at me!”

  Downs
tairs John was busy. He had picked up the child and was walking the floor with him, hoping for a miracle of his own, knowing, of course, that lightning never struck twice in the same place. But John was aglow just as Edna had been. The more he walked, the younger he got, and when John put the baby back in his bed, he looked to be in his late fifties. The transformation had been incredible. He was handsome again. He sprinted upstairs, anxious to get to the mirror. Edna screamed at the sight of him. And for a moment it was as if time had stopped, she thought he was a burglar because he looked so different and almost didn’t recognize him.

  John looked in the mirror and started to sob, a startling transformation. Not only his looks but his strength had returned. “We can cancel that senior home! How are we gonna explain this to the kids?”

  Edna laughed. “You look as young as John Junior.”

  The both started to laugh, as giddy as two school kids. Edna went down to hold the baby again, hoping to get even younger but the child was gone though the cradle and extra bottles of milk remained. And all the animals were now anxious to get out.

  Knights of the Dragon

  A. J. Gallant

  Copyright© 2013 A. J. Gallant

  All rights reserved

  No part of this novel may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Purchase only authorized editions. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, incidents, and places are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Books by A. J. Gallant

  Madman in the Mirror Braeden the Barbarian (New)

  Moon Diamond

  Dracula: Hearts of Stone

  Dracula: Hearts of Fire

  Dracula: Hearts of Glory

  Dracula: Hearts of Ice (forthcoming)

  Knights of the Dragon

  Knights of the Wizard

  Knight of the Sword

  The Saucer Club

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  EPILOG

  CHAPTER ONE

  https://www.amazon.com/A.-J.-Gallant/e/B005F6UR52/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

  It was ten years after the Great War.

  The quietness of a beautiful morning was shattered like a glass bowl falling from a great height, unexpected and frightening. The scent of fear was again in the air, hearts hammered inside of brave chests that refused to flee even though their minds told them that it was the only way to survive. Shields held together tight like rocks on the shore attempting to stop the ocean, shouts of steady men were heard, and many knew that their screams would be their last. Life was fatal and always would be, many people dying long before their allotted time, war often saw to that. It could also take away the reason for living, pushing aside one’s zest for life.

  “Brace for impact!”

  A flock of black birds flew off as the soldiers approached, the ground shaking with each step, shields being beaten like drums to frighten the enemy but it never worked. Even the victors were certain to lose men, only death truly won in battle. The defending army braced for the assault and prepared to fight to the death because with everything on the line there was no choice, it was do or die. At the very least they would be able to take some of those bastards with them.

  “Make them pay!”

  Over ten thousand heavily armed soldiers in armor rushed over the hill, screaming their loudest in order to intimidate the smaller army. With their walls breached they had no option but to fight, three thousand against ten, no alternative but to attempt to defend their homes and families against insurmountable odds, against the bloodthirsty invaders. They had come under the influence of a night spell and weren’t seen or heard until the sun rose over the mountains; even the sounds of them gathering weren’t heard.

  “Make them regret the day they were born!”

  Brave words in battle were often cut short, a sword through one’s gut tended to do that. Man against man was around from the beginning of origin, never a challenge so satisfying than humans pitted against one another. Never was a slaughter so satisfying than against one’s own, sword against sword, dream against dream, but with such advantageous numbers, it definitely wasn’t a fair fight. Invaders preferred to have the odds on their side, easier to talk their armies into attacking when one was facing a weaker force.

  The day before the battle was always the toughest, not knowing if one would survive, but having to put on a brave face because no one would dare admit that they were frightened. Only in the quietness after midnight did those awful thoughts creep in like a fiend from the forest, raking one’s nerves with several possible outcomes of a grisly death. Being dispatched quickly was one thing but worse would be surviving with no arms or legs and having to endure the agony of a so-called healer, only to succumb in any event. When seriously wounded it was best to close one’s eyes and hope that they wouldn’t be found until death took them. Surviving without limbs didn’t happen often but it did happen. Lying on the battlefield badly wounded, hoping that one would die before being brought to a healer for amputation or bloodletting, the best one could hope for was a powerful sorcerer to regrow limbs but even some wizards didn’t know what they were doing when it came to an injured warrior. Rarely did one want to admit that they didn’t know their elbows from their arses.

  Swords, spears, crossbows, and halberds were the weapons of choice. Behind the attacking army walked a red dragon with a wizard on its back; it had a large leather hood over its head as the sorcerer guided it. The animal was spelled but still appeared to have some conscious desire of its own which was, of course, a great danger to puny humans. It wasn’t necessary for the wizard to get involved this time as they had more than sufficient numbers to do the job, a slaughter in the making but the sorcerer wanted to watch and besides he was under orders from King Chromos to be on guard just in case Leeander’s wizard attacked them; Adorok was a famous sorcerer indeed. Rumors were that he wandered in this area in defense of his idea of justice, which was different from wizard to wizard, but what they didn’t know was that Adorok was old and failing. The Yurrosy were taught that the strongest deserved to conquer, the weak deserved to die, that it was the way of the world. They had over a hundred thousand slaves
that pushed their economy, free labor moved their way of life forward.

  Swords clashed against shields under the shadows of Raven castle. The soldiers tried hard to defend their small kingdom from the invaders and battle cries rang out as the Yurrosy army overwhelmed their defenses. Organs were pierced and throats were slashed. The attack had come after a week of placing themselves just out of reach of their arrows; they had thoroughly enjoyed the calm before the tempest. It was satisfying for them to know that the world of their enemies was coming to an end, and to the Yurrosy anyone that didn’t surrender upon their approach was the enemy. And those that did surrender were cowards. The day endured the death of many, a feast for the crows.

  Ackley could taste his own blood as a long sword was run through his chest, when the blade was removed the 50-year-old battle tested veteran fell to his knees and toppled over, sacrificing his life valiantly for his family and friends, having managed to take three of the enemy with him. His blood drained quickly like a toppled glass of red wine. One of his sons took the head of the assailant that had killed his father but then he was also sent off to the land of the dead, losing his head in the process. They desperately needed magic to defend against such odds but they didn’t have it; this day would, unfortunately, be their last. Arms were severed and hearts were stopped, men screamed until they could scream no more.

  Gilda was one of Joshuar’s best women warriors, muscular and adept with a sword. She parried the attacker’s sword and ran hers through his neck and then beat another one back with vicious blows knocking him off his feet and running him through. Gilda had to deflect several brutal blows with her shield before letting the big brute’s own momentum knock him off balance and then plunged her sword through his heart. He had been furious that a woman had been his equal; in fact, she had been his superior. She wasn’t the prettiest but she had the biggest heart on the battlefield, it would be difficult to best her one on one, but such was not the way of war. Seeing her fury and her accomplishments she was simultaneously attacked by five men; she slew three of them before she was finally killed, run through by a broadsword. The odds had been too great. Her death sucked the life out of some but the battle raged on, no time to morn lest they be dispatched as well.

 

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