A Despair of Demons
Travelers: Book 1
By
Cassy Campbell
Cover art and text copyright 2013 by Cassy Campbell.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual incidents, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without express written permission from the author.
Author’s caveat:
Because of the famous and near-mythical nature of Area 51, the Ranch, Groom Lake, and Rachel, Nevada, I have used their names and rough locations. However, I’ve taken wild liberties with the geography of those places in the interest of storytelling. I hope the few citizens and many Area 51 aficionados will forgive me and enjoy the story as it’s told. If it helps, consider this: Liv’s Home World may be set up slightly differently than the one you live in. Or perhaps the government has kept secrets better than you think, and the next time you head to Las Vegas, you’ll encounter her and Jordan out for a night on the town. You’ll never know her actual occupation, of course. Travelers are a secretive bunch.
Table of Contents
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
Epilogue
Don’t let this be the end!
About the author
April, present day. Previously unexplored parallel world, DEPOT designation L-634S, corresponding California.
Chapter 1
Where are all the people? Dr. Olivia Greenwood asked herself. It was far from an idle question, and her brain picked at it, puzzling over possible answers as she followed Jordan down the street.
They walked through a city that had once been similar to many in Home World. Skyscrapers loomed above them, but their broken empty windows stared like dead eyes. Weeds flourished between cracks in the pavement, the road was littered with burned-out heaps of melted plastic that had once been cars, and she suspected that the small mountain of rubble to their left had started life as a bridge.
The only things that broke the eerie silence were the wind hooting through empty windows and her boots crunching on the gritty street.
She glanced at Jordan as he stepped silently along without appearing to try. With his DEPOT uniform blending into his surroundings and the silence of his movement, he could have been a ghost. His tense shoulders, pinched mouth, eyes in constant motion, and sidearm held pointed at the ground told her the creepy emptiness was getting to him too.
She shivered, wishing she carried a machine gun instead of her Sentinel Premier and the backup P238 on her ankle, but nothing bigger than a handgun would come with them when they Traveled. As a cognitive neuroscientist and the DEPOT’s top Travel expert, it was one of the mysteries of Travel she hoped to one day solve.
She was glad when a rock popped under her boot with a sound like a gunshot. At least it proved they weren’t ghosts.
Jordan turned toward her, his blue eyes glowing like gas flames in the gray light. He flashed a quick smile. “Feels like we’re about to be attacked.”
“I know. Let’s hope one of the others finds something soon.” T36, their Department of Parallel and Otherdimensional Travel team, had drawn this mission. Commander Connor Bryant, team leader, had ordered them to split up on arrival. She and Jordan had headed west while Connor and his partner Petty Officer Trent Nagano had gone east, and Lieutenant Ben Farthing and his partner Gin Karelli headed north. They were looking for anything of scientific, military, or medical value.
So far they’d found only dust and silence.
“It’s weird,” Jordan said. “Not a single bird or squirrel. You’d think the place would be crawling with wildlife.” He peered through a broken shop window at the wares sitting inside as if still for sale.
Liv hadn’t thought of that, but now she realized it was unusual. “Yeah. It’s just this sprawling Necropolis.”
His eyes flashed to hers and returned to scanning their blasted surroundings. “That’s the perfect description.”
She skirted a car blocking the road while Jordan glanced into the empty front seat. “Where is everybody? I mean, if they’re dead, where are the bodies?”
“I can’t imagine. What do you think could have done this?”
“Who knows? There’s plenty of damage, but nothing’s looted. It’s like something happened to everyone, all at once.”
“And then they disappeared.”
Jordan stopped at a newspaper kiosk and grabbed a paper. His expression turned grim as he studied the front page.
“Look at this.”
She couldn’t read the language, but the pictures were unmistakable: dead bodies and sick people overflowing hospital corridors.
“Can you read it?” she asked. One of Jordan’s areas of expertise was languages and he was fluent in about thirty of them, so if anyone could read it, he could.
Jordan studied the paper for a minute. “No. It’s similar to Old English in form, but some of the letters are Greek, some are Latin, and the language itself isn’t Old English, Greek, or Latin.”
He set the paper down on the sidewalk and snapped pictures with the camera he carried in a vest pocket. Jordan generally took a lot of pictures, since absolutely nothing could be brought back Home from another world—another mystery of Travel Liv wished she could explain.
When Jordan had chronicled every page he returned the paper to the kiosk and they continued down the street away from the center of the city. Skyscrapers gave way to three- and four-story buildings, then to townhouses and free-standing homes.
Jordan stopped in front of a stone wall with an arched entrance. Whatever was beyond the arch was hidden in shrubbery. A stone rhinoceros stood on a pedestal at each side of the overgrown pathway, guarding the entry.
Liv stopped next to him, trying to see what he was staring at. “What?”
“We have to go in here,” Jordan said.
“Why?”
“Because this is the library. I can find a reference to read their language. I might be able to tell what happened.”
Liv peered through the foliage at the barely-visible building. “What makes you think this is the library?”
“The rhinoceroses.”
She fought down a laugh and his eyebrows drew down in a don’t-do-it expression. She couldn’t resist. “And hippopotamus-usses?”
He shook his head, ignoring her broad grin. “No. Rhinoceros isn’t Latin. ‘Rhinoceroses’ is the correct plural form. And they’re known in some cultures as animals associated with wisdom and learning.”
Liv raised her eyebrow, but when Jordan said crazy things like this he was always right.
“Let’s go, Doubting Debbie.”
She held up her hands, her attempt at an innocent expression possibly ruined by the large handgun she still held. �
�I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought it.”
Liv grinned again, but nodded for him to go on. He pushed through the leafy path as she took a last sweep of the deserted street and followed.
A carved oak door swam out of the shrubbery, the entrance to a stone cottage buried in the overgrowth. “This isn’t a library. It looks like my Gram’s.”
“We’ll see.”
Jordan stopped at the right side of the door and Liv stepped to the left. They stood with sidearms pointed at the ground, ready to sweep up as they went in. He gave her a nod, another, and on the third, pushed the door open. Liv darted through, Jordan on her heels. She went high and left, he went low and right, as usual.
“Clear.”
“Clear.”
She dropped her shooter’s stance and looked around. They stood in a foyer with a wooden stairway directly in front of her and a sitting room to the right through an arch. Gangrenous light barely filtered through the leaves outside, and several tables covered in lace tablecloths glowed like poisonous mushrooms in the gloom.
The smell of old paper reminded her of every library she’d ever walked into. Looked like Jordan was right again.
Liv followed as he passed through the foyer to a sitting room. A few books lay scattered on tables as if they’d just been set down. Several doors opened off the sitting room, giving glimpses of rooms lined floor to ceiling with books. She saw other doors in those rooms leading to still others, and wondered how big the building was.
Jordan turned to her with a raised eyebrow and her mouth quirked into a smile. “You were right, as usual.”
They searched the rest of the building. When they found nothing alive or dead, they headed back to the biggest book room.
Jordan clicked his radio on. “Connor, come in.”
A crack of static was immediately followed by Connor’s voice. “Go ahead.”
“I found a library. I think I can read their language if I can just find some references.”
“You’re at 74 south by 186 east?”
They each wore a locator that they synched to their arrival point in every parallel world. It tracked its position from that arrival point and communicated with the others to map the area. Jordan checked his. “Yes.”
“Ben and Gin?” Connor asked.
Ben replied immediately. “Still searching. Still nothing.”
“Keep at it,” Connor said. There was a brief pause. “Jordan, Trent wants a look at the tech stuff. We’ll be there in ten.”
Jordan immediately turned to the nearest rack of books and started pulling them down, finally giving in to the curiosity Liv knew he’d been suppressing since they’d entered the building. Although he was the DEPOT’s linguist and expert on the evolution of worlds, his chosen field was history. He loved nothing more than learning the history of a new culture, unless it was cracking a new language.
Liv leaned against a table but kept her sidearm ready as he dumped his finds on the other table, raising a cloud of dust, and took a chair.
A scuffle at the door made her whirl, gun leveled at the intruder.
Connor’s voice called out, “It’s us.”
Liv relaxed and glanced back at Jordan. He was already deep into three books, flipping between the one in his lap and the two on the table, and didn’t look up.
Connor ghosted into the room, nearly as silent as Jordan. Liv didn’t know where Jordan had learned his stealth, but Connor’s came from military training; before joining the DEPOT, he had been Commander Connor Bryant, leader of his SEAL platoon.
Right now he looked a lot messier than usual: his tall, lean form was liberally coated in gray dust, from his black hair to his tanned, weathered face. His uniform—gray camo short-sleeved-shirt, matching camo utility vest with bulletproof Kevlar panels and plenty of pockets, gray camo fatigue pants with plenty more pockets, and gray sage boots, hid the dust perfectly. She’d been told there was some sort of light-reflecting technology in the fabric that made it blend into any background color.
Trent followed Connor through the door like a shadow. He was half a foot shorter than Connor but just as lean, his black hair longer and currently cleaner than Connor’s. He’d served as a Petty Officer in Connor’s SEAL platoon, where they’d discovered their mutual ability to Travel. They’d joined the DEPOT when their tours ended rather than renewing their enlistments. Now they were partners.
Liv wondered what they had been doing. She raised her eyebrows, but Trent shook his head. Don’t ask.
Connor gave Liv a nod as he walked up and leaned next to her on the table. He stared as Jordan referenced yet another book—now there were three open on the table. Then he walked over and put a hand on the page Jordan was reading. “How long will this take?”
Jordan looked up. “Oh, hey Con.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how long. So far, I can read four words.”
“All right.” He turned his gaze on Trent, the team’s engineer and industrial expert. “You two stay here. Determine their level of industrial, medical, and weapons technology, decide if there’s anything we might be interested in. The usual. Jordan, do what you do. Liv, you’re with me.”
Liv glanced at Jordan, who was already buried in his books again.
Trent rubbed his hands together. “Excellent! Let’s see what we have here.” He found a shelf full of instruction manuals, pulled one down and instantly immersed himself as deeply as Jordan. Liv glanced at the incomprehensible diagrams, glad she didn’t have to decipher that stuff, especially when it wasn’t in English. Neither Trent nor Jordan looked up as she and Connor left.
Connor and Liv headed east until the road ended abruptly at a man-made bay lined by loading docks. There was no water to the east in Home World’s California, but parallel worlds didn’t necessarily have parallel geography. She held up a scanner, and when Connor nodded and stopped to wait, dipped it into the water. “No salt. It’s an inland lake.”
“Let’s check out the storage units.” He pointed to the warehouses lining the shore, each metal building accompanied by its own metal pier and loading area. They searched the first warehouse, which was empty, and the second, which was also empty.
At the third warehouse, Liv followed Connor through the door as she had twice before. “Clear.”
“Clear.”
She looked around at the sheet metal hallway and glanced up through the open space above them to the warehouse roof stories above.
She glanced at Connor. “This is new.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Maybe there’s something here.”
He signaled her left and turned to go right. Liv’s hallway ended at a door that opened into the warehouse itself. She glanced back and saw Connor pass through a similar door into the room beyond. She turned and went through her door fast, sidearm leveled.
Stacks of wooden boxes loomed all around, throwing odd shadows. A row of clerestory windows floated high in the gloom of the far wall, but they didn’t throw much light to the ground. At least the floor was clean so she could step silently.
She opened one box, and saw it held yellowish bricks. Another revealed the same contents.
Well that’s boring.
She slipped around a stack of boxes three times her height and caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She swung toward it and caught a shadow darting behind a lopsided stack of broken crates in the corner.
“Freeze! Come out where I can see you.” Scuffing noises came from the corner, and she hoped she hadn’t discovered whatever was responsible for the emptiness of this world. “Come out with your hands in the air.”
Out shuffled an ordinary-looking man with pale skin and black-and-blue streaked hair. His hands were up as ordered, and empty. Since Jordan wasn’t here, she was glad he appeared to understand English. Surprisingly, denizens of disparate worlds often did, but divergent evolution caused strange inconsistencies even in worlds similar to Home World.
She held her gun on him with one hand and reached for her radio
with the other, but barely got her finger on the button when he said, “Stop.”
She put her hand back on her gun and took a few steps forward, keeping it aimed at him. Protocol in this situation dictated that any potential witness be immobilized and apprehended immediately.
“Stay back,” he said in a low voice.
Immediately, she took two steps backward and stopped.
“Drop your weapon,” he said.
Her fingers opened without her authority and her gun clattered to the floor.
She felt strange, but she stubbornly tried to stick to protocol. Maybe he would come with her voluntarily. “Come over here. I won’t hurt you,” she promised. “Where do you live?”
“My Home World is called Paradise.”
A Traveler? She stared, nonplussed. “If you’re a Traveler, why don’t you leave?”
“I am hiding.”
“From my team?”
“No. From demons.”
Liv nearly laughed. “Demons don’t exist. They’re a myth, perpetuated by teenagers trying to scare younger kids out on their first trips.”
“Demons took my family, ruined my home. I was forced to flee to draw them out of my world.”
“Come on. Everybody’s heard the stories about a friend’s brother’s girlfriend’s neighbor who accidentally Traveled to Hell and saw a demon. But nobody’s ever met anybody who’s been to Hell themselves, or seen a demon firsthand.”
“You have.”
“I have what?”
“You have met someone who has seen one himself. You have met someone who has been to Hell.”
What utter garbage! Liv laced her words with scorn. “You’ve been to Hell. The actual world. And seen demons.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know they were demons?”
He glared, all but snarling. “Because they looked like demons. They spoke like demons. They smelled like demons. And they killed. Like demons. The demons took my family, and I have been unable to rescue them. I barely escaped myself, and I am still attempting to elude pursuit.”
Maybe he was telling the truth. He certainly seemed sincere. If he was, she pitied him and his unknown family. The stories were beyond horrible, and if even some of them were true…
A Despair of Demons (Travelers, Book 1) Page 1