#1
By Mike Duron
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About this ebook
Some say there are demons that tempt people into dangerous situations -- some say blaming the unexplainable on the supernatural is falling victim to The God of the Gaps.
Who's to say which view is correct? Perhaps they both hold true in different parts of the multiverse.
Beware the moment they cross paths though -- if The Watchers aren't around.
Mike Duron
Mike Duron lives in a dark, dank cave, somewhere in Texas. He survives on a diet of pork rinds, pumpkin seeds, Busch beer, bologna, bread, and the occasional dollar burger from McDonald's. Beyond this, how does one say what this author was, is, and may some day be? Will the great St. Francis de Sales intercede as a patron for this flagitious fiend of fiction? Likely not. Will the sad, raging beast, Grendel, return for his cave some spooky night while the author is tapping away at his keyboard? Perhaps. Still, the author will tap, tap, tap, tap away ... as he tries to ignore the faint conversations of Nona, Decima, and Morta echoing in the darkness above him.
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#1 - Mike Duron
#1
MIKE DURON
Copyright 2013 Mike Duron
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved.
Cover image Copyright 2012 Carmen Villareal. Used by permission.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and locations portrayed in this book are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.
ISBN: 9781301875221
DEDICATION
For Uranium Sydney, wh.om.at.er.ever he may flee.
THE WATCHERS
The news had come to him in the form of a call from his ex-wife, Celeste. Their daughter was dead.
Celeste had told him their daughter, Toni, had been murdered, actually. She'd said the police were still at Toni's apartment, that he should go by, that she didn't have the heart, and then she'd broken down sobbing and hung up abruptly.
The news hadn't had any immediate emotional effect on Jared Pourchot. He almost hadn't believed it. Even though he knew Celeste had been The Supreme Bitch of Bitches (as his only sibling, Emilio, had nicknamed her before Jared and Celeste had even married), he knew even she wouldn't stoop so low as to lie about the death of his only child and hers.
Of course, because both their parents had died so long before, he'd gone straight to Emilio's home and told him.
Jared's brother had taken the news hard, since he'd been very close to Toni as she'd grown up. When everything had settled down though, Emilio had insisted on accompanying Jared to Toni's apartment. It had been early afternoon when they'd left and the day had been overcast and cold. Rain had fallen in heavy showers throughout the prior evening and now hung in the air as tiny droplets of mist.
When they'd arrived at Toni's apartment, it had been difficult to find a place to park because so many police cars, marked and unmarked, had crowded the area around her apartment. Even a fire truck, ambulance, and coroner's van had been present still.
The brothers had soon been introduced to the lead detective on scene, an older, tall, slender, black woman in her sixties named April Smith. They'd given brief statements to her in a police cruiser before they'd been taken to the downtown police station and questioned by her and others about Toni's habits, boyfriends, friends, work, and family history.
It hadn't been long until both brothers had figured out that the police weren't quite sure if Toni's death had been an accident, an intentional suicide, or a murder. They hadn't been told how Toni had died, or when. All they'd learned by the end of the evening had been that the news was true. Toni had died not even halfway through her twenty-fourth year of life.
At the end of that day, when he'd gone to bed and tried to fall asleep, Jared had thought he'd heard Toni -- a young Toni of only five or six -- say, quietly, Daddy?
He'd sat up in his dark bedroom and switched the lamp on beside his bed before realizing the voice must have come from inside his head. That realization had subsided quickly and, as he had turned to switch the lamp back off again, he'd finally broken down and cried.
#
Smiling at the barista in front of him, Jared said, I'll have the usual, twelve ounce instead of eight though. Long night.
The tall blonde in her early twenties returned the older gentleman's smile. We have the pint size for only ten cents more,
she said.
Oh, okay. That'll work even better,
said Jared. He never could turn down any suggestion she made. He supposed she thought it was because she was so flirtatious with him, but he knew the real reason and didn't care if anyone who had ever seen him interact with Gabrielle, the barista, assumed it was because he was simply a flattered, but still dirty, old man.
As Gabrielle handed him his coffee, Jared gave her a ten dollar bill and told her to keep the change, which was actually more than the cost of the coffee itself. He could see pleased pride in her genuine smile as she took the bill. She so thinks she's playing this old man, he thought.