Teaser #2: The Bestowing: Stone of Seth
By Joshua Lemon
Page 14 & 15 of 1st draft:
The scene was chaotic. Rubberneckers slowed their cars to investigate the flashing red and blue lights. There were four police cars, two ambulances, and one fire truck illuminating the block. Most gawkers drove away after a carnage-less glance, while the ones with no life parked to watch the scene unfold. The fog of an unknown horror swelled from the convenience store doors, and captivated the onlookers. A group of people gathered near the crime scene, not out of curiosity, but because deep within them dwelled a fear of death. All people fear death, whether they admit it or not. Fear drove each and every one of those morbid onlookers to see what could happen to them at any moment. Yet, they relished in the false security of thinking it wouldn’t be them tonight.
The hot August air was beginning to cool as the beautiful array of purples and oranges graced the dusk’s sky. The orange sky faded to purple. Purple faded into the eerie depths of the dark soulless night. The yellow caution tape entrapped the scene. It created a disturbing glow as it flapped in the slight breeze. Inside the tape a group of first responders stood huddled around Noah. They stood watching the EMT try and wake the unresponsive lump of flesh and bones on the pavement.
The silence was slowly drifting upward from Noah, as his pleasant dream faded to the depths of his imagination. It sounded like someone was trying to speak to him, but it was so muffled. His bed didn’t feel very comfortable at that moment, he sleepily thought. A slow drumming throb began to beat into his head. Boom, boom, boom. The drumming became a screaming, sharp, and searing pain. It spread through his head like a knife in a watermelon.
Noah opened his eyes. With blurred vision and dizziness fogging over him, he blinked hard trying to make out the person hovering above him. The muffled voice was becoming clearer.
“Can you hear me sir?” The strange voice emitted. “Sir, stay still.” The man said as he firmly held Noah’s shoulder down.
“Sir, can you tell me what day it is?” The man questioned again.
Noah became more aware of his surroundings, though the sharp pain in his throbbing head still left a cloud of confusion. There was a man with white rubber gloves, stabilizing Noah’s movements.
Noah whispered, “Where am I?” His throat was so dry, and felt as if the air passing through him was laced with glass.
“Officer, can you help me sit him up?” The man who Noah now knew was an EMT, asked the police woman standing over them.
A simple “yeah” was her reply as she bent down and took Noah’s other arm. Noah felt as though he were being ripped away from the asphalt, where he had lay bound for many years. The fog was slowly lifting, but confusion overwhelmed him. “What happened?” he thought.
A little teaser: The Bestowing: Stone of Seth
By Joshua Lemon
Page 265 & 266 of 1st draft:
Noah waited anxiously outside the plain wooden door, trying to decide whether to go with a nonchalant look, or a simple smile. He tested both, then silently scolded himself for over thinking these encounters with Blair. Noah feeling his hair fall across his forehead, flipped it back into place. With nervous tension building, Noah shifted his weight to his left leg. The remnants of a dull pain still lingered. An image of a lifeless officer’s body awkwardly sprawled on the asphalt flashed in his mind. Noah quickly erased the image with a look down at the stupid shirt he bought with his uncle’s gold. He hated it, and hated having to wear it again. At what point would someone ask; “why do you always wear the same clothes?”, he wondered. Probably, never. No one in this world seemed to notice others, at least not on purpose. Thoughts raced through his mind, while the elongated seconds passed only a few times. The rapid thoughts were a distraction from the unyielding nerves he felt.
The door opened without a creak. Noah felt the air escape his lungs. The previously decided upon simple smile fell open and loose. Blair’s angelic face appeared picturesque, like a painting on the wall of a museum. She was absolutely the most gorgeous woman he had ever known. Her beauty seemed to intensifying each time he saw her. Blair’s welcoming smile could not hide her nervousness, as she gently bit her lower lip. “Come in.” She said, opening the door wide enough for Noah to enter. Realizing his mouth was still hanging open, he attempted the cool nonchalant smirk, and instead achieved the goofy grin of a teenager. He walked into her office as if the room held some mysterious grandeur that needed to be found. It was a small office with vaulted ceilings making it appear larger than it was. It smelled of lavender and possibly vanilla, too. The aroma wisped across Noah’s nose leaving an unending trail for him to follow.
“So, this is where the great Blair Reagan tackles life’s most challenging questions?” He joked as he investigated her office.
“Something like that. I like it, it’s cozy and quiet.”
He could feel her eyes on him as he took in every detail that his brain would allow. Books neatly placed on the built-in shelves of the wall to the left of her desk. Papers loosely strewn about her less than organized desk. No blinds on the floor to ceiling window behind her desk.
“That must be where you stalked me while I was writing in the courtyard.” Noah said, nodding towards the window. Their eyes met, and they both laughed, more out of needed tension relief than humor.
“Yes, because I am the stalker out of the two of us.”
“I knew it all along.” Noah joked back.
Blair walked behind her desk and placed a hand on her chair, never taking her eyes off of him. She had her hair down, the lowering sun shone through the window, finding a way to illuminate the auburn strands as it seemed to have a knack for doing. Though evidence of a sleepless night still lingered in her slowed movements, her expressions were alive with energy. She seemed unafraid to smile in front of him now.
Noah walked towards a picture frame that sat on the built in hutch. The rattle of the overhead air vent awoke as the hissing cool air fell. He picked up the silver frame and looked at a slightly younger Blair, who was pulled into an embrace with her father as the both grinned wildly at the camera. “How is your dad these days?” Noah asked, not realizing his blending of his world and hers.