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Storms
By Adam Williams AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2013 Adam Williams
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4817-3251-2
Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
How it All Began
It's Saturday evening. The fifteenth of October. Lightning flashed across the sky. The autumn night was filled with strobe-like patterns looking almost as if the heavens were being turned on and off again and again. The rain seemed to echo the pattern by going from a misty drizzle to a steady stream. The wind was bending the trees until they were almost touching the ground.
A long stretch of blacktop ran for several miles outside a little farming town in South Georgia. On each side of the road there were two large fields. It was on this highway that a small red Volvo putted along. It was an early nineties model that had the wear and tear of a good used car. Fighting the wind and rain, its headlights blinked through the storm. The windshield wipers appeared to be losing the battle. A flash of lightning blinded the driver for a moment forcing him to slow the car to a crawl. He was sure that any moment the wind would blow his little car on its side. Thunder boomed in the sky shaking the car and its occupants. It was on that old blacktop highway in a little farming community out in the middle of nowhere that fate chose these two people. That night their lives would change forever.
"Henry, we should turn around and head back. The rain's really coming down." an elderly woman said.
"I will in a few minutes, Abigail. I have a feeling we should be here." The old man's wife said something else but it was lost as a crack of thunder sounded and a wide streak of lightning came down from the heavens.
In an old field to the right of the Volvo stood a massive oak tree every bit as old as the farming town around it. Its trunk reached twelve feet in the air to the first branch. Then it was like hands rose in the air and the tree blossomed out. It was eye-catching, even from afar. The lightning struck that old tree and for a moment, Henry could have sworn it turned gold. Then with an eerie creak the oak split right down the center.
"Henry, what in Gods name are you doing?" his wife called out in shock at Henry's sudden urge to get out of the car.
"There's something out there! I have to see what it is!" Fearing for her husband's safety, Abigail got out of the car and went after him.
They made their way through the fields to the wreckage of the old oak, and there in center of the split at the base of the tree was the most beautiful angel they had ever seen. Her face was heavenly pure. Perfect white wings wrapped her body from neck down.
Opening her eyes she looked at the two humans staring at her. No, not at them. It was as though she was looking inside them.
"My name is Arianna. Beware the storms. When you hear thunder, I hear battle cries. When you see rain, I see blood. My kind has warred with each other for ages. I fight on one side and my love on the other." Shuddering, she continued. "We thought we would bring peace, but in the end it would not be so. My biggest regret is also my greatest joy. We had a child. He is neither Light nor Dark, but balanced evenly. His name is Alexander. Both sides fear him and call him tainted. In their haste of ignorance they ordered him to be executed, but we could not stand by and let our son be destroyed. My love drew their attention away by challenging them to fight buying me time to hide our child with his freedom and possibly his life as well. Please take him. Protect him where I could not."
Her wings slowly unfolded to reveal a tiny baby boy in her arms. The only signs he wasn't a normal baby were his misty gray eyes and two silver wings were tattooed on his shoulder blades. Once more the angel spoke.
"When he comes of age send him to this tree. It will open only to him and he may receive his gifts. Guide him, protect him, and love him. Do the best you can but beware. When you hear thunder, he will hear battle cries. When you see rain, he will see our blood. When you feel the wind, he will feel the rush of angels. When you see storms, he will see us. My gift to you for taking this burden is youth."
That was the last thing she said as she handed the small child to the older woman. Then, creaking and twisting, the tree knotted up around her until it was nothing more than a crooked old oak.
Henry looked over at his wife now in her early twenties as she rocked the baby back and forth. Looking up at her once again young husband, she smiled. The gray was gone from their hair and they would be able to live another life together with a small addition to their family.
"I'm glad we came out tonight."
Eleven Years Later
A young boy sat outside an old white farmhouse. His eyes studied the hummingbird darting from one spot to the next. He knew this was not normal. Most adults couldn't follow a hummingbird's movement, but he was different. To him, they seemed slow, even sluggish. He could even follow a dragonfly's course without much concentration.
He was only eleven and he knew this was part of the reason his parents hadn't wanted to send him to public school. He had been home-schooled, but had begged his mom and dad to let him go to a public school. This was his first day.
As soon as they agreed, they warned him, "You're different from other kids. Special. You have to hold back. Other children can't run as fast as you or hit as hard. No fights. At all. Ever." Abigail stressed.
"Your mom's right son. You have to pretend to be normal, alright?" said Henry.
He answered with a nod. Like he didn't know that already. He wasn't stupid. But there were several things he didn't know. He didn't know why he had to go to the basement during storms. Or why he had never seen rain or heard thunder. Or why when they went to town he always felt pulled to that old wheat field. Yeah, there was a lot he didn't know but he knew all about being different.
The old Volvo pulled up to the drop off zone. Alex got out of the car. He looked at his mom and felt the faint twinge of nervousness, but didn't let her see it. "Bye, mom."
"Have a good day at school," his mom said.
"I will," then he shut the door and stepped back. He stopped after three steps and turned and watched the car drive away. When it was out of sight he let out a nervous sigh and turned and made his way under a metal overhang. He looked up at the school. Tri-Stone Middle School. He walked along the walkway to the entrance of the school. As he got close, he noticed two boys were blocking the door. From their size he figured they were older than he was.
When he reached then entrance the boy to the left asked, "Hey, what's your name kid?"
"It's Alexander, but I go by Alex."
"Okay, Alex. You're new here so I'm gonna explain things. You either give us your money or we take your money."
Irritated, Alex responded, "Look, I'm not in the mood for stupid people so could you move?"
Before the conversation could go any further, Alex heard a car door shut and footsteps approaching. He turned and saw a girl. She stuck out her hand when she got beside him and said in a very grave voice, "Hi. I'm Sinthia Sinclair. Welcome to Hell." Then smiling, she winked at him to let him know she was joking. "I'm Alex."
He liked this girl immediately. She was pale with short black hair that had streaks of blue and purple running through it. She wore black eyeliner and lipstick and Alex thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
"Dude, she's a freak. Let's get out of here!" "Yeah, Timmy can collect his own money!"
Completely ignoring the two bullies running away, Alex asked, "How old are you?"
"Twelve. You?"
"Eleven."
"Cool. What grade are you in?"
"Sixth. You're twelve, so that puts you one grade above me doesn't it?"
"Nah, I'm in sixth, too. They held me back for not following dress code." Noticing her black mini skirt and black tank top that said 'I bite back' and liking it, he nodded understanding.
"That sucks, though. All your friends advanced ahead didn't they?"
She gave him a look that said she though he must be blind. "What friends? I'm the county freak around here. Old people in town stare at me like I'm crazy and the kids are either afraid I practice witchcraft or that they'll catch something from me. Word of advice, don't talk to me in there or they'll treat you like an outcast, too."
Shrugging his shoulders, Alex said, "That's fine by me. I find you interesting. Also, you're the first friend I've ever had."
"You wanna be friends?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"With me?"
Alex smiled and said "Last time I checked you were the only one standing there."
"I'm a freak!"
"Nah. Not to me. You are pretty different, but not a freak."
"So, is that pretty different or differently pretty?" she asked joking, but Alex, not catching it responded, "Both." failing to notice the blush in her cheeks he kept on.
"Look, I'll be honest with you. You're nowhere near normal and I don't do normal so you're the perfect friend."
"Well, you just gave me a reason to pass class." she said, brushing her bangs from her eyes.
"Well, we're even then."
"How? What did I do for you?"
"You gave me a reason to like it here and to come every day."
A deep-rooted friendship had just begun. One that would stand the test of time.
CHAPTER 2
A glimpse Into Heaven
6 Years Later
It was eleven p.m. on a Friday night. Alex was in his bed asleep. He was sixteen. Only one more hour and he would be seventeen. His birthday had fallen right on the last weekend of summer.
His eyes shot open at the tapping on his bedroom window. He sat up and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. Rolling off the bed, he landed softly on his feet without making a sound. He was completely unaware at the surrealism of his situation. He could see perfectly in his pitch-black room. Perhaps it was all his advantages that made him so calm. It was common knowledge in his family that he had no sense of fear. He wasn't arrogant. He had just never been afraid.
Opening the window he found his one and only friend. Her, now, long black hair had light blue and crimson streaks. Alex thought she was beautiful, but he hadn't yet told her how he felt.
Her smiling face brought back memories of the day he found out how close of friends they were.
* * *
Sinthia had always spoken her mind. She voiced her opinion whether you wanted it or not and she often reaped the repercussions for her actions. Janet Larson was the teacher's pet. Everyone knew it, including her. That day she was picking on Sinthia. She kept pushing until Sinthia swung across the lunchroom table. Alex had made it look like he had barley caught Sinthia's arm in time, letting her fist get close enough to scare Janet.
"You're lucky your freak boyfriend caught you! I have to look my best for the spring dance. I suppose you freaks will be going together?"
Leaning over to Sinthia, Alex asked, "Why am I a freak again?"
"Silver eyes, silver hair, friends with me, take your pick."
Picking up her fork, she flipped mashed potatoes all over Janet.
"Fork off, Janet."
The teacher was there before Janet could scream. "Miss Sinclair! You will be serving detention this afternoon with me and I will be talking to the administration about bringing back the use of corporal punishment!"
Alex reached down and grabbed his container of milk. Before anyone could blink milk covered Janet's face.
"Milk on, Janet."
At first the teacher stood there, mouth hanging open in shock. "Miss Sinclair, Alex will be joining you for detention but he will be the one to receive the paddle here. The teacher was even more surprised by Alex's smile.
He had succeeded in diverting the full anger of the teacher to him. He knew he would never feel the swipes of the paddle. As matter of fact, he would have a tough time trying not to laugh.
It wasn't until they were on their way to detention when Sinthia had a chance to talk to him. The hallway was clear and Alex felt a hand on his shoulder.
"What the hell were you thinking?"
"Fork off, milk on. It sounded good in my head." Shrugging his shoulders, he continued,
"Besides, Sin, you'll have more fun with me there."
He noticed she had stopped.
"Sin? I like it. Now I have to get you a nickname. Hmm, how's Ax?"
"Sure. It's not like your not going to call me what you want anyway."
Turning around, he closed his eyes as he heard her exclaim, "Yay, our first nicknames!"
* * *
"Well, are you gonna just stand there and stare or you gonna invite me in?"
He was snapped back to reality by her question. He nodded and she climbed in.
Sinthia was careful to take in the room's surroundings. She had been here a thousand times but not at night and not in complete darkness. She recalled from memory that his bed was on the north wall with a nightstand to the left. A computer desk sat to the right and there was also a chest of drawers to the right of the window she was crawling through. Stumbling, her hand shot out to use the wall to steady herself. In the process her hand bumped a small lamp sending it falling toward the floor. Alex's hands shot through the darkness catching it in midair. Flipping the lamp on, he set it back on the chest of drawers.
"Jeez, Sin, you wanna wake up the house?"
Giggling, she replied "Jeez, Ax, you wanna put on some clothes?"
It was then he realized his state of dress. He only slept in boxers. Tonight he was wearing black silk, which stood out, in contrast to his silver hair framing his chiseled face. His silver eyes filled with intensity and then darted away.
"I'm gonna get dressed. Be right back."
While he was inside his closet changing, Sinthia began to study his room. There was a guitar and amp next to his bed. On the left wall were posters of Cream, Hendrix and the Rolling Stones. To the right were posters of Clapton The Beatles and Dire Straits. Between every poster was some kind of sword or weapon.
"He's got a wide range of taste," she said to herself.
She went to the south wall. His music collection took up a whole bookcase. She was looking at the artists and saw a wide variety. The one she saw the most of was Eric Clapton. He had thirty-two CDs of Eric Clapton. She smiled and shook her head. In a word: Obsessed.
Just then she heard the closet door open and Alex stepped out in a white tank top and black track pants.
"Dude, I've been in here a million times and I still can't get over how many CD's you have."
"Sin, what are you doing here this late?"
"You don't have any Ozzy?" she asked still obsessed with the collection.
"Bottom shelf four CD's to the right."
"Sweet! Can I borrow this?"
"Yeah, help yourself. So, it's pretty late to be out borrowing CD's."
"Yeah, I know. So how did you move so fast? And in the dark, too. It was cool and all, but freaky cool."
Alex walked over to get the Ozzy CD for her. "I'm a ninja. Don't you know it's dangerous to be tapping on a ninjas window this late at night? I could've stabbed you with one of the many weapons on my wall. Now, what are you doing here waking me up at God knows what hour?"
He must've forgot to put the CD back because it wasn't there. He looked through the collection until he found it. He turned around to give Sin the CD and she was staring at him with wide eyes and her mouth was open in shock.
"I never knew you were a ninja!" Sin started giggling and shoved Alex and said, "You're such a dork." He rolled his eyes at her and chuckled.
Sinthia was standing in oversized black cargo pants and thin strap tank top with a heart being stabbed by a knife on it. 'Bleeding Heart' was written underneath the logo. She handed Alex the bag she'd been holding. He took it and reached inside and pulled out a large box. A crimson bow contrasted with the black wrapping paper.
"Happy Birthday."
"I don't know what to say."
"Open it and then you can figure out what to say." Alex unwrapped the box and lifted the lid off the top. A long silver sheath masked the blade, but the handle was demanding all the attention.
Where the blade joined the handle two seven-inch angel wings spread out creating the hand guard. Black chains twisted around the wings then ran to the handle forming a kind of knuckle guard as well. The angel's head bowed and his arms ran down the side of the handle to the end of the chains, giving the over-all effect and impression of being impaled.
"It's called 'The Fallen Angel.'
I saw it and thought of you. Pull it out."
He unsheathed the blade to find it was made of a black metal. As he continued to look at it, he realized he was no longer seeing his room.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Storms by Adam Williams. Copyright © 2013 by Adam Williams. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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