by Isaiah Lee
Copyright © 2019 by Isaiah Lee
Day of Reckoning is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the express written permission of the publisher.
For information, contact: [email protected]
Cover Photograph: © Melkor3D / Shutterstock
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
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
About the Author
Isaiah Lee loves reading and writing, and his favorite will always be the well-executed thriller. Nothing grabs your attention and catapults you into another world quite like the heart-stopping prose and sudden plot twists of a great thriller novel.
Isaiah's debut novel, THE F.I.R.M., has been well received by critics who say it is a "powerhouse thriller of the best kind".
Isaiah can be found with his nose crammed between pages in a book, scrolling through pages on his kindle, or typing away on his trusty laptop. Writing novels is a much-needed escape for Isaiah, who suffers from Asperger’s Syndrome.
Isaiah also writes non-fiction under the pen name Karson Lee. Lost In Thought: Memories of an Abused Child is his true-life story of the child abuse he suffered as a child.
His current projects include a sequel to THE F.I.R.M., the follow-up to Day of Reckoning, and the story of his and wife’s journey through fostering/adopting their foster child.
Titles by Isaiah Lee
Day of Reckoning
THE F.I.R.M.
Non-Fiction Titles Under Karson Lee
LOST IN THOUGHT: MEMORIES OF AN ABUSED CHILD
Day of Reckoning
Isaiah Lee
Chapter 1
“What was that?”
“What was what?” he asked as he stared down at the blinding glare of his smartphone screen. His right index finger scrolled slightly upward on the cracked grass protector. He instantly regretted dropping the nearly brand-new phone onto the pavement earlier in the week.
“That.” A thin arm manifested from the darkness and pointed east, across the semi-frozen creek.
Her expression turned as cold as the air between them as she screamed at the “man” who called himself her boyfriend. She had been thinking lately that she couldn’t see them lasting forever, that maybe she should break it off before it became too serious to turn back. Maybe her mother had been right and Johnny was a piece of shit after all. Why did her mother always have to be right?
Her mother was right about her ex cheating on her, after all.
“Johnny!” Her voice was shrill and betrayed more irritation than she would have liked. “Stop staring at your damned phone and listen to me! For once…” she added under her breath. Frustration seemed to radiate off of her.
Johnny’s nostrils flared and he raised his attention from his phone just long enough to curse. “Fuck, Stacy, leave me alone already!”
Wow, this date was off to a great start! Stacy immediately lowered her gaze and began to tear up. She couldn’t let Johnny see her cry. Not now, not like this. She turned around and stared toward the horizon. What exactly did I see? Stacy wondered.
He thought for a second before changing his tone. He hadn’t sealed the deal, after all. It had been over three months since they started dating. Trevor, one of his best friends, had bet him a hundred bucks that he couldn’t claim Stacy Ledbetter’s virginity within four months. His time was running out. This was not the time to be a total douchebag. He guessed he could fake it a little longer for the sake of a bet.
“Stacy…” he began but was cut off. A petite hand was shoved into his face and again a finger directed his gaze upward.
“See, there it is again!” Stacy exclaimed. “A blue flash!”
Curiosity got the best of Johnny. He let his prized phone drop from his gaze, but only slightly. “A blue… flash?” he asked in surprise. What the hell could be flashing?
Johnny stared in the direction the flash originated. Seconds later, the night sky flashed a brilliant blue-green hue, only to immediately return to darkness. The flash was almost blinding. Johnny turned away and rubbed at his eyes.
“Did you see that?” Stacy asked excitedly with a hint of terror at the edge of her question.
“I saw something,” Johnny told her, “but I’m not sure what.” He thought for a moment. “It’s totally the Martians coming to Earth. You should let me keep you safe.” He eased a groping hand across the small of her back before it found her bottom. He couldn’t help but squeeze a little. He always had loved a firm, round butt. Stacy’s wasn’t all that impressive, but he guessed it would do. At least until he moved on to his next conquest.
Stacy fell into his embrace, noticing his hand placement. She would let it slip this time, in case it was accidental. She highly doubted it was. Johnny’s reputation proceeded him, but he was such a smooth talker. He definitely knew how to sweet talk the ladies. “Look,” she said as she pointed. “There it is again.” She hopped from excitement, managing to break his hold. She would totally know if he tried that shit again.
Another blue-green flash of light lit the sky. Stacy’s heart began to race as she spotted a thin, round shadow move across the aura. The possibilities seemed endless as she sought a plausible explanation.
Johnny’s attention had fallen toward her cleavage and away from the mysterious flashes on the horizon. “It’s getting cold out. Maybe we should get back home and cozy up,” he suggested. He could think of many things he wanted to do tonight and Stacy just happened to be on the top of his list.
Stacy heard nothing as she stared into the night. She thought she heard a slight buzzing noise in the distance, but she couldn’t swear to it.
Then she definitely heard something.
Yoooouj resssssss. Phumn. Ssssssssiiiit.
Stacy squinted her eyes and turned her head slightly to the left as she tried to make sense of the sounds. It was useless. The sound was gone. The only sound that could be heard was the hypnotizing symphony of crickets. She snapped her attention back to Johnny and the bridge they inhabited.
It all began to come back to her. They had gone out for a movie. After the show, they went for a walk in the park, even though she had insisted they go home. Anywhere, in fact, as long as it was indoors.
She had a terrible feeling about going to Shepherd Park tonight. It was one of those gut feelings. Was it intuition, instinct, or something else? Still, Johnny had insisted.
They followed the rock path around until they came to a bridge that crossed a narrow creek.
The water below the centuries-old bridge was mostly frozen; only a slight trickle could be heard from their height. There had been a fresh snow only hours before. The perfectly white ground below them reflected what little moonlight shone through the dense tree coverage. Street lights had been installed years ago in the park, but due to budget deficits, hadn’t been kept up properly. It seemed like more bulbs had been blown than remained burning. Bushes were in desperate need of a good trim, lest the bloom and overtake some portions of the sidewalk entirely during the upcoming spring season.
The sparsely lit path seemed to disappear behind the couple as snow silently began falling again. Large, wet snowflakes covered everything in sight. Stacy knew they had only minutes before the way back to the car would be impossible to find. The flashlight on her cellphone did little to ease her apprehension.
“Maybe we should head back,” Stacy nearly pleaded. That awful feeling in her gut was back. She started to move back away from the edge of the bridge. Johnny’s large, strong hand gripped her hip and stopped her dead in her tracks. There was a light fog rolling in. She assumed it was something to do with the shitty, winter weather. It was strange: she noticed the crickets incessant song had ceased. When had that happened?
“Johnny,” she said as she turned toward him. “I want to go. I…” Her voice trembled with terror. She couldn’t explain why, but she had the sudden urge to leave the park.
A horrified expression crossed Stacy’s face. Johnny stood, staring toward the sky where the flashes had begun. Blood oozed from his nose and eye sockets. He stood still as stone.
Stacy jumped backward and screamed. “Johnny! What’s wrong with you?”
Johnny wheezed but said nothing. His grip loosened just enough that Stacy could free herself. Johnny’s gaze never moved from the sky, but his body began to inch toward the side of the bridge.
“Johnny!” Stacy squealed. “What are you doing? Get back over here, we have to go!” Her voice was pleading, but quickly became hoarse. She felt as though she couldn’t get enough air to breathe, let alone scream. Was it the frigid air of something else making her feel this way?
The dense white fog was upon them. It swallowed them and nearly completely impeded their vision. It was all Stacy could do to see Johnny only three feet away from her.
Still, she could see that he was dangerously near the rock edge of the bridge. His feet shuffled as if he could barely move them. As if they weighed a thousand pounds each. The calming sound of water trickling somewhere below did little to calm Stacy’s nerves.
“I… I…” Johnny began. His mind was muddled. It was as if there were something clouding his mind, making it impossible to speak. For that matter, he could hardly think.
They were the last words he ever muttered. Johnny’s body crammed into the side of the bridge. Instead of stopping, he simple leaned forward and fell.
Stacy tried to rush over to him, tried in vain to catch him. Little good it did, though. Stacy watched her boyfriend tumble over the rock ledge. Then, a sickening thud. All she knew to compare it to was like a slab of meat slamming against a counter mixed with the sound of a thousand eggs being cracked at once.
Tears immediately gushed from her eyes as Stacy fought the urge to glance over the bridge. Finally, she couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Twenty-five feet below lay the motionless body of Johnny Ponder. Blood slowly flowed from lacerations all across his body. Even if her mother had been right about him being a total dick, he never deserved to die like this!
Stacy opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped her lungs. She felt as it her body were being pulled toward the ledge by some unseen force.
What is going on? She screamed inside her head. The pull seemed to only increase as her body involuntarily inched toward the ledge.
Is this it? Am I going to die? It feels as though there is something controlling me. It feels like... I want to die. I have nothing left to live for in this world. Why have I even tried faking it for this long? She had never had any suicidal thoughts before. Whatever this fog was, it overwhelmed her consciousness.
No. I don’t want to die! What am I doing? I don’t want to do this, but it’s like I’m not in control! No! The sudden realization overtook her as she fought with every bit of energy she had. Only, she had no energy left. She struggled even as she rolled forward over the side of the bridge.
A weightless feeling overcame Stacy as she tumbled toward the ground. Her body rolled listlessly for what seemed an eternity as images of her life flashed across her eyes.
She relived the day her Nana had died. The time when she crashed her bicycle into a briar patch.
Her first kiss with a boy named Jack in seventh grade behind the dumpster.
As her body crashed onto the unrelenting frozen ground and rocks, the last image Stacy would ever see flashed across her vision.
It was Johnny. A massive, greyish-pink monster – for what else could it be called other than a monster – was beside Johnny. Inside Johnny. Its many tentacles ripped and sliced into Johnny’s flesh. They seemed to travel under his skin before tearing back to the surface. Through the surface! His limp body was tossed about like a ragdoll as it was devoured and ripped apart.
It was then that the horrifying monster turned to Stacy. Its greyish-pink skin glistened in the moonlight, save for where its tentacles had been darkened by Johnny’s blood. As it screeched at her, she could see its razor-sharp teeth and her heart jolted in her chest. How she had survived the initial fall into the creek below she knew not. What she did know was that she was going to suffer the same fate as Johnny. A pulsing, greyish tentacle lunged toward her face.
Chapter 2
Ding. The microwave chimed. Steam escaped from around the ill-sealing door of the outdated appliance.
Jason stood from his position on the couch, where he had been murdering hordes of zombies on the newest shooter video game, and grinned as he opened the microwave door. The aroma of the almost-burned miniature cheese pizza filled his nostrils. At this exact moment, Jason could think of nothing better than that smell. His mouthed watered a little in anticipation.
His phone chimed. It was a text message. “DUDE JOHNNY IS MISSING WE HAVE TO FIND HIM”
The message was from Hank. Jason wished for the umpteenth time that Hank wouldn’t text in all caps. He sent a return text. “What do you mean he’s missing?” He had always been in the habit of capitalizing and punctuating properly like a good little school boy. It was a habit he could not seem to break from high school English class, where his teacher’s incessant nagging had worked its way into his inner psyche.
Jason took a massive bite from the pizza, regretting it immediately as the lava-hot cheese scalded his tongue.
“HIS DAD SAID HE DON’T KNOW WHERE HE IS AND HE’S OUT WITH THAT CHICK”
Jason nodded to himself. He knew the only reason Hank’s texts contained apostrophes was the auto-correct spellchecker built into his phone. He also knew who “that chick” was. Stacy Ledbetter. Jason and Stacy had been best friends throughout middle and most of high school. After graduation, Stacy had opted for college while Jason joined the workforce. It Jason was being truthful, he’d had a major crush on Stacy all throughout high school. One that he’d never mustered the courage to act upon.
Rather than jumping up and freaking out, Jason punched a quick answer back on his phone. “I’m sure he’s fine.” This sort of behavior wasn’t totally abnormal for Hank. He was quick to overreact to almost any situation.
Hank didn’t immediately answer, which seemed a little odd to Jason. Hank was known to respond to a text no matter where he was or who he was with. Still, Jason shrugged this off. Hank was also known as the class clown. He was always pull
ing a prank on somebody. Surely this was his newest bullshit attempt at humor.
Jason finished his microwave pizza in silence as he thought about Stacy. He slid his index finger along his phone and unlocked the screen. He opened an instant messenger app and shot Stacy a message.
Almost an hour went by before Jason heard his phone chime. Thank God, he thought. His heart sank when he read that the message was from Hank. “DUDE IM SERIOUS JOHNNY IS MISSING”
Jason’s heart began to race as the realization sank in. Something really must be wrong. He sent Stacy a text, then a notification on social media. She always responded to something.
Jason waited a few minutes before responding to Hank. “I’m on my way over.”
◆◆◆
Jason pulled his white Pontiac Grand Am into Hank’s driveway about thirty minutes later. They lived on opposite sides of town from each other and, with traffic, half an hour was pretty much the typical commute any more.
He made no effort to lock the car when he arrived; not much sense since two doors didn’t lock and the right rear window wouldn’t roll up more than halfway. There were currently plastic garbage bags duct-taped around the openings on the windows. He was not look forward to that damage when it came time to remove the tape. Would there be any paint left around the windows? Besides, there wasn’t much to steal unless somebody wanted empty Mountain Dew bottles or fast-food receipts.
“Dude, Johnny’s missing,” was how Hank answered the door.
Jason stepped inside the dingy apartment and nodded his head. “Yeah, I got that already. What have you heard?”
Hank led Jason to the living room and sat down in an old, brown lounge chair. It had long since been worn out before Hank ever got it. Jason chose the couch – finding the spot that was least stained, for only God knew what sorts of fluids had ruined the fabric – and eased his weight down, lest the furniture decide that was the exact moment it would throw in the towel. The crack from his weight said the furniture had, in fact, considered that exact moment. He sat perfectly still for fear that he might bring forth another furniture-splitting pop.