On the Horizon

From the desk

Well. It looks like this story is finally coming to a close. I thought Goose and Scepter was fun. This has been the most challenging and most complex story I have ever written in my life, and I loved every minute of it. Many, many hours of tedious, yet enjoyable work.

When I stepped into this story I had one particular story in mind, but as I am stepping out of it, the story became its own living, breathing thing. The lore itself just came out of nowhere. And the characters. I fell in love with all of them. This story is a bit tighter than Goose, but it is deeper, more complex, and more powerful. I have never been more proud of a story in my life.

I started this journey back in February. It has been a lot of weekends and late evenings locked on to my computer. I spent most of my free time working on this and I think it has turned out to be absolutely beautiful.

I also nailed down my cover, which you can see here. I chased it around for a long time. I went through about five or six different ideas and finally landed on this one.

First look

Well, I’m back at it. I’ve officially started Book 3 of the Bernard County Series. Here’s a small taste of what I’ve got so far. Keep checking back for more updates, as this will be a WIP for some time.

The sky above Ashen Fork was a dreary gray. Clouds had rolled in over the afternoon, and the town was bracing for thunderstorms and high winds. Rain hung in the air, that heavy smell just before it breaks.

The businesses had all closed for the night. Nothing stayed open twenty-four hours here. The sun dipped below the horizon, though no one could see it go. A few people still walked the path at the park, but most had gone home, and a couple kids pedaled hard on their bikes, racing the storm.

The quiet was settling in for the night when a sports car tore it open. It came fast, taking the curves at a speed that should have put it through a guardrail, tires screaming. Anyone watching would have called it reckless. He wasn’t. He took every curve clean, music blasting, hands easy on the wheel, missing nothing. No man drove like that.

After nearly hitting a deer, he slowed and stopped at the old building that loomed over the deserted street that he had turned down. He pulled into the gravel parking lot as the headlights swept over the darkened windows. For a second, his own reflection ghosted across the glass and the man smiled at himself.

“Wow. The boss said it was a WIP but I didn’t think it was going to be this bad,” the driver muttered as he stumbled out of his car nearly going down in the gravel. He looked the building up and down. The sign hung at the top. E.J.’s Hardware. He kicked a few pieces of gravel as he stomped toward the front entrance. He looked through the large plate-glass windows. The inside looked just as bad as the outside. Abandoned displays. Left over inventory. Even an old cash register left open. The man strained to see if there was any money inside. He chuckled to himself at the thought. Then he saw his own reflection and gasped. He was pale and gaunt. His eyes were sunken and his skin was haggard. He stood pallid as he pulled his hands down his face pulling at his own skin.

He heard a noise behind him and swung around. The streetlamp on the corner of the building was dim. The man almost lost his footing again. He caught himself on the edge of the window ledge. He tried to strain to see what the noise was but was unsuccessful. He snickered to himself. He let go of the window ledge and stumbled back into the parking lot.

He looked up and down the lonely street before him, then he heard it again. He followed the noise around the building kicking the high weeds and stray rocks as the parking lot transitioned to the grassy yard beside the building.

“Ole Cassius can’t do anything right they said. But I got you that town didn’t I, boss? Whole thing fell in a few weeks, almost without a hitch. Fastest time yet. Ole Cassius can do something after all. Pft… of course, Cassius can. Been doing this shit for three hundred years.” The man mumbled as he walked.

Cassius followed the sound as he rounded the corner of the building and peered into the alley. There was an old man staggering back and forth as he was diving in and out of an old dirty dumpster that sat in the back alley behind the old building. The old man found something and lifted it to the sky examining it with curious and envious eyes. He threw the item, whatever it was, into the bed of his old, beat-up truck and dove back into the dumpster with both hands. After a moment, he reappeared with something else that he seemed proud of and threw it too into his truck. With a satisfied grunt at his spoils, he patted his hands together and started for the driver’s side of his truck. His fingers wrapped around the door handle but before he could pull it open, he heard a sound of rustling grass. He stopped and squinted to see around his old truck. His hands dropped to his side. His old eyes weren’t like they used to be. He rubbed them once and looked again. He didn’t see anything. The night was quiet and the alley lonely. Surely it was just a cat or a raccoon. He let out a nervous snicker and reached for his door handle again. One second too late.

Out from the darkness of the looming abandoned building came a sprint, a quick jolt and something had the old man. His head spun and suddenly he was face to face with a stranger with blood-red eyes and drool dripping from his chin. The old man gasped and started to run but his feet wouldn’t move. He was held in place by the strongest hands he’d ever felt pressed against his shoulders.

The stranger that wasn’t there one minute and was the next stared into the old man’s eyes and bared his teeth. The old man tried to look away, to flee, but his muscles wouldn’t obey him. With terror on his face, he had no choice but to stare into the eyes of the stranger. His memory only lasted one moment. Then his eyes went cloudy and his mind was gone. He still stood like a man, but nothing was left inside him that resembled a man.