If you are, vote for When the Sand Runs Out (#1114125) please!Well. I don't think I've quite restarted this story enough times yet.
Oh well. It gets a little better every time, and I actually like this version, so we'll see where it goes. Opinions please? Either drop me a PM or comment (: Serious constructive criticism please! I'd actually like to get this published. Even if you don't have any criticism, but you just liked it, please let me know! It helps motivate me and keep me writing. (: If you have any questions PM me (:Aah, sorry it's so long! I can't cut anything out because it's important I introduce this beforehand. I don't really want to call it a prologue, since it isn't really one, but it's most definitely not Chapter One either... so I don't know what else to call it. Ideas? It's kind of just this section of the past that you need to know beforehand. It exposes some of the plot and introduces you to a select few characters (the others I've kept anonymous for a reason
you'll get to know them later).So yep. Without further adieu:
________________________________________________________________________________
Prologue
Sixteen Years Ago
"Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it."
- Adolf Hitler
Night in Epsilon was a sticky affair, heavy with the damp warm breeze that blew in off the ocean. It carried with it the perfume of the tropics, a scent that was somehow both flowery and salty. This, certainly, must be what heaven smells like.
Cicadas and crickets sang their songs in a perfect, practiced harmony. The people of Epsilon settled down for the evening peacefully, confident that tomorrow Epsilon would still be the same paradise it was today.
On the north shore, Hadley's Lighthouse shot its beam out into the world, encountering not a single cloud. The light swung around, a constant, guiding lost sailors home.
Everything about Epsilon exuded peace, security. It was deceivingly fragile, though, this beachside world. No one was prepared for the night one simple decision would cause their perfect world to fall to pieces.
* * *
The neon lights were like a beacon in the evening, drawing her to them. "Murphy's Bar" flashed red and blue on the biggest sign. Not the most fantastic name, certainly, but from what she could see through the windows the place appeared to be very welcoming.
She sat out front, car idling, for a good ten minutes, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to go in.
She'd been sober for, what, a year and a half now? But every day she went without a drink the dull gnawing ache inside her grew worse, like an alligator was living in her stomach and chewing up her insides until she didn't even recognize herself anymore.
Just one drink couldn't hurt, right? Besides, up until now she'd been trying to quit cold turkey, and everyone knows that doesn't work unless you happen to have superhuman willpower.
And, to quit that quickly, you have to really want to quit. For yourself.
She did want to quit, she really did. But it was for her daughter and her husband Daniel's sake, not her own.
Perhaps she'd wean herself off of it. One quick beer, just one harmless beer, and no one would have to know. She'd be back right on time. Then she'd just wait a couple months or so before she had another, spread it out.
Hell, even Daniel had a drink more often than that.
She had to satiate the alligator before it ate her alive.
She felt a pang of remorse, just for a second, about what she was going to do. She'd made a promise.
But still, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. A little white lie here and there never killed anybody. Besides, if he knew, he'd be hurt. He'd be beside himself with worry. So really, by not telling him, she was doing him a favor.
And what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
Right?
Clutching that tiny bit of reasoning like a safety net, she turned off the car and began her trek to the front door of Murphy's.
* * *
Halfway across town, at a Chuck E. Cheese's, of all places, Daniel was beginning to get worried.
She'd been gone an hour - an hour? How much trouble could a person get in in an hour? - and he knew for sure it wouldn't take that long for her to get to the motel and back.
Daniel was here on vacation with his wife, his daughter, and his sister and her family.
It worked out nicely because two of his nephews, Nick and Nolan, were both only about a year younger than his daughter, who was turning three in a few months. Right now, the trio was shrieking with laughter as they dove in the ball pit.
Nick and Nolan's older brother, Nathan, was climbing through the tunnels overhead. He crawled into one of the side sections, something that looked just like the inside of a car. Even at five years old, the novelty of automobiles was not lost on him.
Preoccupied, Daniel checked his phone once more.
Nothing.
All she'd had to do was run to the motel and pick up the kids' swimsuits. That's all she had to do. They'd promised the kids that they'd go to the beach one more time before they left tomorrow, and tonight seemed the most suitable time.
But with every passing second, it was inching closer to eight o'clock and the light was fading. Daniel knew that within the hour, all the kids would conk out fast asleep.
She'd better hurry.
"Any word?" his sister, Heather, asked, nudging him across the stick table.
Daniel shook his head, as much an answer as to shake away the mental picture that had take root in his mind, of her little blue Honda upside-down in a ditch somewhere, wheels still slowly spinning. "Nothing."
Maybe there was traffic. Or perhaps she got lost. No, that wasn't possible, there were only two major roads in Epsilon. Why Heather had picked this tiny beachfront town for a vacation, he had no idea.
Or maybe she couldn't find the swimsuits. He knew exactly where they were - hanging from the showerhead in the tiny Lysol-scented bathroom, but he couldn't be sure she knew where they were.
Never once did it occur to him that maybe his wife had slipped, that maybe she had broken her promise.
The drinking hadn't been a problem before they were married. Maybe it'd even been a little attractive, the way she was always so willing to stop at a bar.
He'd realized it was an issue when she forgot it was their daughter's birthday and spent the entire day at a bar.
After that, he gave her an ultimatum: sober up, or he'd take their daughter and leave.
And sober up she did. She hadn't a drink in a year and a half.
Daniel picked up his phone again. Still nothing. He dialed her number once more, but it went straight to voicemail.
"I'm going to find her," Daniel announced to Heather, stanging up from the tattered red booth seat.
He didn't have to look at her to know the expression she had on her face - like she took pity on him. He didn't like to be pitied.
This was the same look she gave him all those years ago after their mom finished yelling at him because he'd broken the neighbor's window playing baseball. The same look she gave him in junior high, when his dog, Paisley, ran away.
"You know," she said, "it's getting late anyway. Maybe we should just take a rain check on the beach."
He husband, Camden, nodded and gave the same look that was beginning to infuriate Daniel. "We could always go tomorrow morning."
Daniel sighed. "I appreciate the charity, guys. Really. But there's no need to sacrifice the last day of vacation. I'll just go find out what's going on. I'm sure she can't find the swimsuits or something. Just stay here with the kids and I'll be back in like twenty minutes."
"No, no," Heather insisted, standing up and straightening her blouse. "It's fine. We'll come with you."
"Heather. No."
"Yes, Daniel." When he looked up, she was giving him that look again. "We're going to help you find her. That's what's most important right now."
He opened his mouth to object, but had no argument. He was halfway to the door when he heard a small voice behind him. "Uncle Daniel? Where are you going?" It was Nick.
Heather, looking up from gathering her purse, saved him from having to reply. "It's time to go, Nick."
Daniel turned around again and took one more step towards the door when he suddenly realized something. "Wait. Heather. I have to take a kid; you only have room for three."
It was clear from the look on her face that she had not thought of this.
Nick ran up and wrapped his puny arms around Daniel's leg. "I wanna ride with Uncle Daniel!" he shrieked. At the same time, he heard his daughter cry out that she wanted to ride with Nick, too.
Well then, he thought. I guess it's settled. He'd take two, Heather could take two.
In one swift movement he swept Nick up from the ground onto his shoulders and grabbed his daughter's hand.
He had to duck to clear the exit door, but it was worth it because Nick was having so much fun.
Just before Heather and the gang pulled out of their parking spot, she shot him one last glance. This time, it was not filled with pity; they exchanged a thousand words in just one second. Heather, he now knew, shared his pain. She shared his fear that something was not as it should be.
Even though Heather was his little sister, it sometimes felt like she were older than he was.
Daniel suddenly realized that, if something was wrong with his wife, he had no idea what he'd do with the kids.
He swung Nick down off his shoulders and noticed he only had one carseat. Oh well, Nick didn't need one. He strapped his daughter in hers and snapped Nick in behind the driver's seat.
"Hey Uncle Daniel," Nick said, pushing his glasses up his nose as Daniel fumbled with the buckles - he'd never been good at those things. "Did you know that octopuses have eight legs?"
"Wow," Daniel said, feigning shock. "That's amazing. I had no idea. Maybe you'll see an octopus at the beach tomorrow." Daniel knew they weren't going to the beach. But that was fine, Nick would forget this conversation within the next five minutes.
"That," Nick exclaimed as Daniel snapped himself in, "would be so cool."
Daniel glanced back in the rear view mirror to smile at Nick again and was struck for aboutt he third time during the vacation by how similar he and Heather's kids looked. They all had shiny golden-blond hair and eyes the same blue as the ocean. The four of them, including Daniel's daughter, looked exactly like Heather. Daniel himself had dark eyes and he had had dark hair, but for the first time the other day he'd noticed some gray hairs. He was beginning to think perhaps he was growing old before his time.
Daniel glanced in the rearview mirror once more as he pulled out of the lot - Heather had been waiting by the entrance, apparently, he thought, she was going to follow him to find his wife. Both of the kids were fast asleep. His little girl, a blond angel with the temper of the devil, had her head leaned gently to the side. She was comfortable. She believed everything would be fine. Nick, on the other hand, had his head twisted at a grotesque angle and his mouth was hanging open. Flycatching, he and Heather always called it.
Daniel supposed this was a good thing, that they were both asleep. Now, if something was wrong, maybe they wouldn't have to see it.
No, he told himself then, surely nothing was wrong.
After all, all she had to do was get the swimsuits.
* * *
She didn't know why she'd come here in the first place. She had a daughter, a husband back at the motel, or at least that's where she thought they were. But she felt so relaxed, so good, and that twenty-something bartender who kept refilling her mug was looking more attractive by the minute.
She realized, suddenly, dejectedly, that her mug was empty once again. How had that happened?
Just then, the bartender walked up and slapped his hand down on the counter in front of her. A second delayed, she jumped, but as she did, her elbow slipped off the counter and she promptly smacked her chin on the bar.
He just smiled - toothy, like a shark, she noticed - as if this kind of thing happened all the time.
If you want me to refill that," he said, pointing at the mug, "you're going to have to pay off what you already owe on the tab."
"Ah, no," she slurred. "I probably oughtta be leaving."
"I'll bring the bill," the bartender said, and walked away.
Just then, a white-haired biker with arms bigger around than her head slid onto the stool next to her.
"Hey baby," he said gruffly, pretending to stretch but purposefully flexing his biceps right in her face.
She wrinkled her nose; he smelled like anchovies and mushrooms, and the air was heavy around him. With every breath she took she got a little queasier. She tried to subtly scoot to the far side of her barstool, but it was no use. He was nowhere near as trashed as she was, and noticed.
“Aw, come on,” he said, stretching one arm across her shoulders and holding out the other hand for her to shake. “I’m Bruce. Just let me buy you a drink.”
Suddenly, that queasy feeling began to climb up her throat. His beefy arm was across her shoulders. Her shoulders. She could practically see the sweat on his rough skin. Suddenly, there was the bile, right there at the back of her mouth. She couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even tell him off, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe, because if she opened her mouth she was going to blow chunks everywhere.
“Do you have a name?” he said, words more of a growl this time than human speaking. She stared at him – really looked him in the eye for the first time – and what she saw was horrifying. Before her very eyes his skin was turning green and scaly; his nose was getting longer, turning into a snout with dagger-like, blindingly white teeth.
The alligator, the one she’d been trying to satiate, was here.
The arm around her shoulders was no longer an arm at all, but a fat scaled leg with massive claws. And then he smiled and she saw those teeth once more. He could swallow her whole. Chew off her arm, her leg, her head. Devour her and never think a single thing of it. And his eyes – golden yellow in this low lighting, with skinny black slits where his pupils were supposed to be, were staring her down, laughing at her misery.
She suddenly heard the cries of a wounded animal, could swear she heard every noise of the attack. Then she realized it was not an animal at all, but a scream coming from herself. Everyone in the bar was staring, but at her, not the alligator. Could no one else see this horrifying transformation?
She could not hold it in any longer, and suddenly the vomit she’d been trying to hold down was all over the alligator’s face. Sensing her moment of escape, she got up and tried to sprint towards the front door. With each step she took, though, it got farther away and she couldn’t stop stumbling. Then suddenly she was outside – how did she get there? – and the sticky night air did not feel good on her skin.
She turned and threw up six more times in a bush next to the door. When she was done, she collapsed against the brick wall. She was not surprised to realize that it was not her stomach that felt empty, but her heart.
She never should have come here. It was a mistake, a colossal one, and everyone had to be worried sick about her right now. She had to get back as soon as possible and try to keep from causing more problems.
With that, she climbed – more like fell – into her car and pulled out onto the highway. Suddenly, instead of a two-lane road, this looked more like a four-lane, and she had no idea which lane was the one she was actually supposed to be in.
There were more cars, more lights, blaring at her from the other side of the road. Everything was too bright, too loud, and she couldn’t even hear herself think.
But it would be okay. She’d driven drunk before. She just had to get back and smooth everything over with Daniel.
It was beyond her mental capacity at the time to realize that she hadn't paid the tab, or done what she’d gone out to do in the first place, and that she had no idea what she would do or say to explain her drunkenness when she did get back to Daniel.
But of course, she thought she’d be fine. After all, she was pretty decent at talking her way out of situations. She was a good liar.
* * *
Joseph was late. It was not his fault, really, but the UPS man’s, of course. There was a ridiculous amount of traffic in the opposite lane, so he couldn’t pass, but the UPS guy had to stop and deliver something at almost every single house.
Granted, if Joseph would have left from work sooner, he would have beaten the guy anyways, but it was easier to blame someone else.
Now, he was finally pulling up to Virginia May’s, the woman who watched his son, Kylar, while Joseph and his wife were at work.
Kylar was standing in the front yard, scuffing his shoe on the dirt beneath a mulberry tree.
Joseph sighed and climbed out of the car. When Kylar saw him, his face lit up and he ran to hug Joseph's leg.
"Hey buddy!" Joseph said, prying him loose for a second, to smile at him.
"Daddy!" Kylar grinned at him.
Virginia May herself stepped out from behind the mulberry tree where Joseph hadn't noticed her standing. "Kylar was very good today, Mr. Addison. He even helped clean up after snack time, so I gave him a gold star."
Joseph smiled. "Thanks for watching him."
"Oh, it's no problem!" she gushed. "I'll see you tomorrow!'
He nodded affirmatively, picked up Kylar and headed back to his Camry. After snapping Kylar in his carseat, he got in the driver's seat and began to pull away. When he looked back in the rearview mirror, Virginia May was gone, as though she'd never been there at all.
"Did you have fun?" Joseph asked, turning down the radio.
Kylar's face lit up as he began to relay the events of the day. How he played with the Hot Wheels, how they ate animal crackers for snack, how they colored a picture of a dog.
Joseph pulled out onto the main road and settled in for the ten minute drive home, listening to his son talk. In the opposite lane though, something in the distance caught his eye. A pair of headlights were flashing wildly, dancing all over the road. He furrowed his brow and slowed down a bit. They were now close enough that he could see the headlights were from a small car, and it was continuing to swerve into both lanes. Other cars were steering out of the way, laying on their horns and some going off the road in their quest to stay out of the way.
Drunk driver? he thought, pulling over and flipping out his phone, wondering if he was the first to call the police. That person was going to kill someone.
Right then, he glanced up, and was shocked to see the car suddenly in his lane and heading straight for him.
* * *
Heather had a sinking feeling something was very wrong. She was a person who usually trusted her gut, and her gut was usually correct.
She'd followed Daniel past the motel - his wife's car wasn't there - and now was following him aimlessly as he drove through the streets of Epsilon. She didn't call Daniel, even though she wanted to, because she knew he was trying to call his wife nonstop.
Where the hell was she at? Heather swore, if nothing was seriously wrong with Daniel's wife, she'd kill her herself. Even the kids were beginning to wonder. Nolan had fallen asleep, but Nathan was still awake, and he was looking more worried by the second. He was very perceptive for a five year old.
Heather glanced into the back and saw that his lip was quivering.
Shit, she thought, and nudged Camden. He glanced up, and she gestured wildly to the back end of the car. It was difficult trying to silently convey her meaning; she didn't want to wake up Nolan.
Camden leaned into the back seat and began to comfort Nolan. When Heather looked forward again, she locked her eyes on Daniel's taillights to make sure she didn't lose sight of him.
Suddenly, what looked like a wild light show was playing out before her on the highway. From around the side of Daniel's car, she witnessed two small cars colliding head-on and a scream escaped her lips. Headlights and taillights swerved madly all over the road, and just like that, Daniel's car was suddenly involved in the carnage.
At the last second, as she came upon the accident, she was able to steer off the road and avoid it, narrowly missing a wide tree. But she did not care; she knew everyone in her car was fine. That wasn't what she was worried about.
Her heart was in her throat, and she could not stop screaming.
Her son was in that car. Her brother was in that car. Her niece was in that car.
She kicked open her door and ran the few feet to the highway. There, she was greeted by unbelievable damage; three cars had been mutilated like childrens' playthings. She looked at them all intensely, looking to see if, by some incredible chance, Daniel had managed to avoid the accident. There was a green Camry she did not recognize, and suddenly her eye caught sight of a black Toyota - just like Daniel's. Just before the rush of tears blinded her, she saw the third car - her sister-in-law's blue Camry.
* * *
As the horrifying scene on the highway was playing out, everyone in Epsilon watched in terror, and did not notice the instantaneous changing of their beautiful world. It was as though the Earth had shifted on its axis; nothing like this accident had ever occured here. The cicadas and crickets were silent, mourning for the lives lost.
Within only a minute or two, ambulances, fire trucks, police cars showed up at the scene. There were several deaths and severe injuries. The Epsilon EMTs had never seen anything like this; mostly all they ever had to do on their job was prove to elderly hypochondriacs that they were only suffering from heartburn, not a heart attack.
With all the flashing lights, no one saw Hadley's Lighthouse go completely dark.
________________________________________________________________________________
Help! Is it too weird that I don't tell you some of the characters' names?
All comments please! If you didn't like it, tell me why. If you loved it, tell me why! If you think I could improve something, tell me what! if something doesn't make sense, let me know! PLEASE!
Thank you, I appreciate it. Also, send me a message if you'd like me to read and review your story. I like editing other people's stories almost as much as I like writing my own. Also don't read the other WtSRO chapters up. I've re-done many of them (but haven't uploaded them yet) so the old ones won't make sense with the prologue and my new story line.
