Reality...
...or imagination?
the website of Helen Lloyd Montgomery
From the pages of Skinwalker Moon
That evening the earth resonated to the power of the storm that unleashed itself at the onset of night. The houseboat trembled with every peal of thunder. Lightning clawed the heavens with raw bursts of power; wild torrents of wind-driven rain set the surface of the river to boiling.
For a while Sara watched the spectacular demonstration from a seat on the couch, cloaked in darkness but for the artificial stars above her bed. Titian lay curled in her lap and a stick of incense burned in an ashtray on the hanging table beside her. Its tip glowed red as it scented the air with jasmine. It was pleasant and in a strange way, comforting. But when a bolt of lightning knocked out power to the marina and plunged the Lucky D into darkness, Sara decided to call it a day. She reached for the incense to stub out the burning tip.
On the other side of the room the computer came on, shedding a cold blue light throughout the Lucky D.
Startled, Sara glanced at the twinkle-lights over her bed, thinking the lightning strike had only caused a surge and the power had come back on. It hadn't. The twinkle-lights were still off. Nor was there any sign of life from the clock-radio by the side the bed or the clock on the microwave in the tiny galley. There was no power at all coming to the Lucky D.
The ghostly glow from the computer screen pervaded the darkened room and sent shadows scampering to the corners like frightened children. Titian jumped off Sara's lap and landed on the rug with a faint thud, her ears pricked and alert. Sound from the computer speakers whispered around the walls, an echoing susurration like a rattlesnake's warning.
Sara stood up cautiously, dropping the stick of incense back into the ashtray. Maracas. Castanets. An Indian dance rattle. Whatever it was, it oscillated around the room, growing stronger…fading to silence…returning a little louder each time, with just a bit more force…as if something was pushing against the fabric of reality, something on the verge of being born into a new universe-
With a squeal of fright, Sara dashed across the room to turn the computer off, then recoiled in horror from the image displayed on the screen: the old man, painted in shades of pale blue, dead and staring, his face caught forever in a moment of screaming terror.
Thunder crashed outside, powerful enough to shake the windows and rattle the door in its frame. Sara whirled toward the door, suddenly terrified that something was coming though it. On the other side of a window, backlit by a flash-pop of purple lightning, she saw the stark silhouette of a man standing on the deck of the Lucky D. Behind her, unseen on the computer screen, dead features turned to stare after her with a face that twisted into a leering grin of insanity.
Available November, 2008. Order your advance copy now!
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