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Joe M Solomon
Joe M Solomon Horror Writer
Category:
Horror
Publisher: NES Publishing, LLC
ISBN-10: 0999002407
Type: Fiction
Pages: 372
Copyright: November 3, 2016
ISBN-13: 9780999002407
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
Darkness enshrouds the Gulf Coast & eviscerates all within its reach.
When night falls in Giger, Texas, shadows gather as they always do in dim corners and other areas bereft of light. But this time they consolidate and attack any who tread too close. Michael Warren, a twenty-four-year-old resident of Giger, finds himself at the epicenter of this horror and is stunned by the losses suffered overnight. Then the sun sets and the shadows again coalesce, growing more aggressive, the darkness eviscerating anyone it touches.
His only weapon light, Michael struggles to survive and searches frantically for his girlfriend, aiding friends along the way. When Hurricane Daniel roars ashore, wind gusts shred trees and tear down power lines, plunging all of Southeastern Texas into blackness that only feeds and strengthens the encroaching darkness. Rising floodwater provides easy thoroughfares from which the darkness can strike as Michael and his friends contend with the elements, clash with criminals, and battle their way to his residence where they will stand against the darkness and fight to survive.
Excerpt
A forty-watt bulb struggled to illuminate Lee Vu’s porch, its rays too weak to reach the single drive. Inside, she sat on her bed, legs folded underneath her, eating ice cream from a small carton while she watched television.
The news dominated almost every channel, unbroken by commercials. And the world did not look promising.
Ten-year anchorwoman, Nancy Newhouse—the only reporter in the studio—scanned the area beyond the camera. Her bloodshot eyes, tight features, and wrinkled blouse spoke volumes to her audience. Normally the news appeared well rehearsed and proceeded smoothly amid false smiles and lame jokes, possessing little substance. Those onscreen were, without fail, flawlessly made up and clad in designer clothing, as if all involved were secretly auditioning for some new, awful reality show. And Lee had always thought the typical, supposedly playful banter in which Newhouse and that pompous Avery J. Jackson—when had news reporters begun using their middle initial?—engaged asinine.
Seriously, it was supposed to be a news program, not Pee-wee’s Playhouse.
But now normality had fled, taking the false façade with it. Nancy Newhouse repeatedly addressed the cameraman, ensuring he kept the camera on her. With furrowed brow and tight lips, she appeared frightened, her movements stiff.
“Keep it… keep it…” The frazzled anchorwoman instructed the cameraman again. “Okay. You have it? Good.” Nancy Newhouse stared into the camera, worry etched into her face, and said, “Here is an unofficial update. Reports continue to flood the station. Something in the darkness is killing people. We don’t know what it is. And no official will acknowledge this fact, but…”
The camera began to shake back and forth as if Giger were experiencing an earthquake.
But earth beneath the small town did not quake.
The cameraman offscreen shouted at someone. It sounded as though a man were wrestling with him. Trying to wrest control of the camera from him?
Nancy Newhouse proceeded with the news, the picture continuing to vibrate, slightly at times, violently at others. “The fact remains,” she said, raising her voice as the unseen scuffle intensified, “people have been calling into police stations, fire stations, and news stations all over Texas, as far as we know, reporting the exact same thing. Something in the dark is killing people! Turn on your lights!”
Suddenly a muscular man wearing dark blue pants, a light blue shirt, a black tie, and a sidearm darted up to Nancy Newhouse, grabbed her arms, and began to drag her off the set.
She kicked and cursed and scratched the man, but he proved as determined as she.
Her cameraman seemed to be losing his battle as well. The camera spun forty-five degrees to the left, then about the same to the right.
He or somebody off camera shouted, “They’re coming!”
Nancy Newhouse returned her attention to the audience, fighting to remain in front of the camera. “Whatever you do—!”
“Cut the camera!” the muscular man shouted. “Cut the camera!”
“Don’t go into the dark!” Nancy begged.
The screen went black.
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