Absence Of Light

Champagne Books Presents

Absence Of Light

By

Rick Giernoth

HIGH RIVER, AB

CANADA

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Champagne Books

www.champagnebooks.com

Copyright 2009 by Rick Giernoth

ISBN 9781897445433

December 2015

SECOND EDITION

Cover Art by Ellie Smith

Produced in Canada

Champagne Book Group

19-3 Avenue SE

High River, AB T1V 1G3

Canada

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Champagnebooks.com (or a retailer of your choice) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other Books By Rick Giernoth

FDA

Shattered Destiny

Dedication

To the one that has always been by my side, my Muse, Aubrey.

One

Nation of Purest Rally, Lake Como, Georgia

Several hundred onlookers sat quietly, fanning themselves with folded paper programs, and trying unsuccessfully to combat the sticky Georgia heat. Trees served as a backdrop to the raised podium and stage, which had been set up to make this rather inauspicious event look as grand as possible.

Helen approached the podium, and the crowd erupted with applause. The harsh realities of life had raised her from childhood as she stood before the audience, a shadow of a whole person. With such a blank sheet to work with, the Nation of Purists and their founder, David Washington, created an agenda for transforming her, producing a racist, a prototype, and a girl who could only trust a man like Washington

"The world we live in today is polluted. From the gutters to the schoolyards, America is dying. The bleeding-heart liberals are giving our hard-earned money to the, oppressed persons, which is short for a few darkies and the bastard, mixed-raced children abandoned by their deadbeat parents. And we say nothing. Our banks give loans to the Jews who buy up everything, so they can, in turn, screw over the working class. And we say nothing. Then there are the queers who spend more money on a God-forsaken parade than a condom to prevent the diseases they spread. And we say nothing.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but the colors of the flag I once proudly saluted aren’t quite as brilliant as they once were. A government ready to sell us out to any towel-head with a penny in their pocket has depleted our military. People, we are weaker today than twenty years ago. Our bloodlines are becoming so impure it’s leaving us with weak-minded, half-breeds with no real roots and no real reason to exist.

Helen slammed her hand on the podium, inciting the crowd. "I now stand in front of you to ask, what can we do about this? Is the problem so advanced there’s nothing that can be done? Are we alone in our plight? Well, let me help you with some of the answers. Yes, there is something we can do. No, the problem is not too advanced, and no, we are not alone.

"First, you need to realize this is a marathon, not a sprint. We’ll have to take these issues one step at a time. The intermingling of races didn’t come quickly, and the breaking apart of the races won’t either. Be patient. Our time draws near.

Second, the problem is advanced, but not out of reach. With proper planning and swift action we can reverse the decay.

Helen turned to face David and the rest of the speakers on the stand. "And finally, the number of separatist groups around the world is growing, and growing fast. As you know, I’m not one to acknowledge other groups, but if they believe in the complete segregation of races and ethnicities, then they aid us in our plight. In fact, some of our greatest allies come from the inner cities, where blacks and browns alike kill one another off in mass numbers.

This is the beginning of a new and pure world; a world with walls. Walls will have us on one side and them on the other. Until total annihilation is possible, let’s take comfort in the fact that this is our space, and in time we will exterminate the leeches. It is time to take back America.

Finishing her speech, the woman in her mid-twenties turned, saluted the flag, and took her seat. With her bright, blue eyes and blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun, she looked far too innocent for the words that had just come out of her mouth. Someone her age should never have experienced enough to comprehend the words she spoke.

David Washington, leader and founder of the Nation of Purists, stood proudly, as if showing off his progeny. At fifty-two years of age, he had a sinister sophistication about him. His pinstriped suit gave the impression of power, while his motives were apparent with regard to his praise of Helen. He stood at the podium. Thank you for that very impassioned, and if I may say, prophetic speech. Ladies and gentlemen, that young lady is Ms. Helen Slater, a proud member of the NOP. Now, let me tell you a little something about Helen. She was born to a single, alcoholic mother who spent more time in the arms of strangers than she did holding her own daughter. At times, the men that frequented her mother’s home found their way into Helen’s room and she started to become numb, a shell of a child. Night after night, at the tender age of thirteen, Helen would have to scavenge for food in dumpsters around her neighborhood. But Helen is strong. She understood, even at that young age, that she would survive better on her own in the streets, than with her mother. So she left. She spent years out there, fending for herself, before I found her and brought her into the Nation of Purists. Here she found a home, a warm bed, a hot meal, and, in time, that vacant soul was given a mission. And I can proudly say she is doing an amazing job with her mission. You can hear her inspirational words again during our upcoming march in two weeks. We will also be holding a rally in Carsel, Indiana in early May to raise money for the United Purest College Fund, Washington said.

David had a habit of buttoning his jacket when he demanded respect and unbuttoning it when he wanted to incite the crowd, and he performed both regularly during his speech. His hair, sandy gray and parted at the side, promised experience, but his words were filled with naiveté. I founded the NOP thirty years ago based upon the ideals of my father. My father understood separation, and his father before him understood purity. Three generations accumulated to form the ideals of the NOP. I now stand before you, humbled to share our vision. Now, please, take any pamphlets you wish and stay as long as you like. Refreshments will be served, and all of tonight’s speakers will be walking around to answer any questions you may have. David put his arm across Helen’s shoulders and walked her away from the podium.

The crowd erupted in cheer.

Can I talk to you for a second, Ms. Slater?

Yes, sir, Helen said.

I have to say, I’m impressed. I hope your passion for the cause is as pure as your words. I know you’ve been with us for some time now, and you feel as strong about our plight as I do. Let me cut to the point. I’d like to invite you to be a keynote speaker on our national tour.

Sir?

I’m taking the NOP on a tour from coast-to-coast. We will no longer do a demonstration here and convention there. I want a year-round, state-by-state invasion. Everyone will see us and hear our voice, and I want you to be at my side. You do know we have posts in every state now, right?

Helen nodded. I’ve done my homework.

We wanna bring them all together. Me, you, and a handful of others will be the only nation-wide representatives. It’s time to organize and step up to the plate. And I truly think you’re the leader of this next generation. So, what do ya think? Washington lowered his voice in an effort to make a heartfelt plea.

I would be honored, sir. When would we leave?

We ship out tomorrow. We’d like to make a few stops before the march. Are you sure you’re ready for this? Washington smiled.

Definitely. I’d love to help spread the word and place my mark on this world. I want to make a real difference. She jumped at the opportunity to be part of this grand-scale marketing effort. For the first time in her life, she was looked to as an inspiration.

I’d like you to go and make arrangements. Just to wrap things up around here, if that’s okay? Things are moving fast. Washington said.

I don’t really have anything to do. I just have to pack, but it should only take a few minutes. I’d rather stay here and help out.

Of course you would. That’s why we want you on the committee. But we can field any questions the people have. I want you to be sure about this, Helen. It’s a big adjustment in your life, but it’s one I think you’re ready for.

You don’t have to ask me twice. I’m gonna head home and get some of my things together right now.

Great. I’ll see you when you get back, Washington replied, looking into the crowd. You know, Helen, this is the first step in fulfilling this agenda.

Washington walked to the podium. Ladies and gentlemen. One quick announcement, if I may. The young lady you just heard speak will not be available for questioning. However, this is fortunate for us, because her absence is due to her acceptance of our offer to make her the newest addition to the national team. Congratulations, Helen, Washington proclaimed. David motioned to a nearby server, indicating he wanted a drink. The server timidly approached the podium and handed Washington a glass of wine. Holding his glass up, Washington incited the crowd into an excited frenzy.

Everyone rose to their feet, and cheered together to give Helen assurance about her decision. The crowd chanted, Helen and David, repeatedly.

~ * ~

Helen scampered past everyone and into the parking lot. Hundreds of cars were packed into a space designed for half that number. Looking more like a maze than a parking lot, the excitement drove Helen and she couldn’t find her car.

As she passed a car, she heard the sharp bang of a car door slamming behind her. She turned around. A large man stood in front of her, his face covered by a hood. Through the eye sockets, Helen saw the black-toned skin. Remembering what she had said on stage, and the arena she had put herself into, Helen whirled around in an attempt to escape, but she slammed directly into the chest of another assailant. Helen, barely five feet tall and with a petite frame, had little recourse with these two behemoths.

The man she bumped into grabbed her, shoved a round rubber ball into her mouth, and wrapped duct tape around her head. She gagged on the ball, trying to force it out with her tongue. He struck her with a traumatic shot to the knee. They intended to hurt her. She crumpled to the ground, whimpering in pain. Images of her mother’s boyfriends hitting her flooded her mind. Strike after strike, this was a position she knew. She turned over onto her stomach to protect her face, exposing her back. The attacker jabbed directly at her spine. Helen’s back arched momentarily, and then she folded into the fetal position.

The bigger of the two men smothered her. He forced her onto her stomach, face down on the concrete. The brute grabbed both sides of Helen’s head and pushed it onto the ground. His arms shook, giving out all the strength they held. He pushed back and forth scraping her head from side to side over the pavement. The skin tore away from her cheeks. Her eye peered from the side of her head, as if it was a solitary object detached from the pain of the situation. Another strike landed. Helen lay motionless. Mustering all her strength, she turned, relieving the crushing pressure on her nose and forehead. She saw glimpses of her smiling attackers. Her mind stopped thinking. Her fears withdrew. Calmness set in as shock took over. She lay face down, motionless, as the two men moved in. The smaller of the two assailants crossed her arms and placed them on the ground above her. He sat on top of her arms, pinning her down. More strikes rained upon Helen, but she did not cry. She was calm. As more of her blood stained the concrete, her tranquility deepened with the benefit of disbelief.

The man sitting on top of Helen’s hands got up. Hey, people are coming, he yelled. Finish the bitch.

The other reached for a handgun tucked into his pants. The speech Helen delivered rang in her head. Hate begot hate. Two older ladies and their children walked by. They screamed. The attacker jumped up with his gun in hand. The onlookers pointed at the silver nine-millimeter and dove for cover. He fired one shot at them, pointed the gun down at Helen, and fired twice. The noise caught the attention of the crowd, who became silent upon hearing the gunshots. The two older ladies screamed. Everyone at the rally dashed toward the altercation as the parking lot flooded with NOP members. The thugs took off running. They sprinted to a nearby car at the edge of the parking lot and sped off. The horror of the situation spread as more and more people made it to the scene of the attack.

Washington, always a man who sought the spotlight, arrived at the scene and made his way to the front. Helen lay limp. David ran to her side.

Someone call 9-1-1. Get an ambulance here now! he screamed.

He flipped Helen over. The degree of injury was apparent. Her face was skinned, completely ripped from side to side.

You see what we’re dealing with? These aren’t people—they’re animals. And they deserve the same respect as the cattle we slaughter. Look at this. This wasn’t done to merely kill. They meant for this to hurt. Washington showed his blood-soaked hands to the crowd.

Helen, held tightly by Washington, lay limp. Her arms fell to her sides and she remained motionless. Sighs from the crowd filled the air. David sought the limelight once again and made his next move. He lifted his arms, letting Helen’s body fall into the arms of another nearby NOP member. He stood to ensure everyone saw his bloodstained hands. Blood covered each palm completely, and both sleeves were saturated and dripping.

The ambulance arrived, followed by three police cars. Washington waved them on. The medics rushed to Helen’s side, immediately checking her vitals and beginning the work to stabilize her. The crowd rushed to the officers and directed them to the location of the attackers. Two patrol cars sped off in an effort to catch the suspects. One remained on the scene to take information. The witnesses gave all the information they could, but no one could identify the attackers.

Wait, Washington yelled, seeing the police in sight. Helen, did you hear a name, anything at all?

Helen, barely conscious, shut her eyes. David stood over, standing in a puddle of her blood. Medics lifted the stretcher into the ambulance. The crowd gathered behind Washington. He stood with a slight grin but was trying to hide it from his audience. The constant tone of a heart monitor’s flat line echoed through the crowd, indicating the worst outcome for Helen.

As the door shut to the ambulance a medic’s voice rang out. She’s gone. You can cut the siren and reduce speed.

Man, can you imagine what she went through? This is the worst beating I’ve ever seen, the driver said.

You do know where she came from? One of the medics asked. She’s with that hate group, the NOP.

Yeah, but nobody deserves this.

I agree, but if anybody did, we’re looking at them.

The ambulance left the scene.

David approached the officers. Officer, my name is David Washington and I’m the President of this organization. If there is any way I can help, please let me know. Helen is a dear friend and a member of my traveling team.

The lead officer looked at Washington. We will be in contact with you as soon as we have any information. We’re gonna need to talk with Ms. Slater if and when she pulls through.

David replied, Do you think you’ll be able to find those animals?

We’re gonna do our best.

You’ll do your best, but you can’t promise anything. Is that it?

Sir, with what’s happening here, I think we have a citywide list of suspects. You’re publicity has been less than positive around here.

So you’re saying we deserved this?

Sir, no one deserves this. I’m merely saying we have a lot of work to do to find the people that did this. We’ll be in contact if we find anything and when we have information about Ms. Slater.

Washington turned his back on the officers and ended the conversation as if he was the one in charge. The police talked to more members of the crowd, but found little they could use. If anyone could give them a starting point, it was Helen, and she was not going to be speaking anytime soon.

Two

Helen turned and looked at the paramedics. They spoke freely of her demise.

Why are you talking about me like I’m not here? You idiots should worry about my wounds more than who I associate with. Why aren’t you working on me? Helen thought. She looked down. Her body was lifeless. She was a ghost. Her heart raced. Sweat poured from her palms and head. These sensations, which she held outside her actual body, resonated within her as sensations. She looked around the cabin of the ambulance. She knelt by the side of her limp body, trying to caress her own hair. The room spun in her mind. She twirled in the ambulance and prayed to find a way to wake up from this nightmare.

The realization of her death veiled itself upon her. The medics listened to her heart manually one last time. Unsuccessful in their efforts, they pulled the sheets over her unoccupied vessel, leaving a rigid outline of the space her soul once occupied. Life and death collided.

This can’t be. Why can’t you hear me?

Helen’s sight inside the ambulance vanished. She screamed into the emptiness. The purest black surrounded her without a reference point. Her spirit drifted on this plane. Scream after scream went unheeded. She cried out, falling to her knees, only to rise and fall again. She stood as more of some kind of transparency than person. She was a ghostly shell of herself. The light of her body faded as the blackness overtook her. She felt tears on a cheek that was not really there, and felt a heartbeat from within a chest that held no heart. Her mind clung to idea of her flesh, but the reality of the situation was not going to change.

Where am I? Please, someone help. I’m here. God, help me.

She was alone in the nothingness. There was no scenery to look at. There was not a sound. Not even an echo of her screams resonated back. Her thoughts swirled with unadulterated floating emotions as if her mind was stuck on a raft in the roughest of seas. The thought of this afterlife terrified her past the point of fear. Does death bring nothing? She tried to stave off insanity with this all-encompassing question.

Out of the darkness, a high-pitched screech hit her ears. It vibrated through her entire body and shimmered up and down her being. A bright, waving, silver streak raced past her, twisted, raced back and wrapped itself around her. Engulfed in this swirling, vibrating light, Helen’s nerves relaxed. The streak drew back and focused into a solid rope. This rope connected itself to a faint outline of a man, or what appeared to be a man. It attached itself at the outline’s forehead and emptied itself into the form as if filling a glass of water.

A man draped in a shimmering fabric stood before Helen. Helen understood, based on appearance alone, that this was a figure demanding respect. His eyes, the most beautiful light brown, conveyed knowledge, and his slight smile epitomized compassion. A white flowing beard and locks completed the conventional look of wisdom. He gave off the feeling of a father, a mother, and a best friend in combination. Helen’s gaze locked to his. She shook in anticipation of his first words.

Hello, Helen, he stated.

Hello, she replied quivering.

Funny, most don’t even say hi. They usually start by asking where they are.

I’m trying.

Let me help you.

Please. I don’t know what’s happening.

The man stepped to the side. A tranquil view replaced the vastness once adorning the skies. Helen sat in quiet reflection. A quaint little bench with golden armrests and wooden fixtures sat in the most beautiful pasture she had ever seen. The flowers, nature itself, and the beauty of this scene sat shrouded in a stunning blue skyline complete with billowing clouds making for the most striking sight imaginable. In her life of struggles, city streets, and crime, she had never experienced this tranquility.

I hope this view makes you feel a little more comfortable. Let me introduce myself to you. My name is Jacob. I’m your guide.

My guide to what? Helen asked.

Your guide to evolution.

Evolution? What evolution?

The evolution of your soul, Helen, and your growth as an entity. I’m here to show you what you need to accomplish to progress. See, Helen, this is your classroom. Here you’ll see what you’ve done in life and what you need to do. I’m afraid to tell you, your last experience will take a lot of time to go over.

So you don’t agree with my life? Helen crossed her arms standing in defiance.

Do you? Jacob asked.

Angry, Helen shouted, Then why ain’t I in Hell? If you’re here to persecute me for my beliefs, the same beliefs that guided me in my life, so be it, but I don’t want to sit here and listen to it.

By His grace, rarely is one left behind. He watches over all and sets the table for your experience. If you fail, He resets the table. Once you clear that table for yourself, you’re in His light.

Set in the ways of her current life, Helen sat side by side with her guide. In front of them, the sky cleared and Helen was able to watch herself and the actions of her previous life. A movie screen in the skies above lent itself to their endeavors. Helen sat with a grimace. Jacob regularly took notice of her expression.

Several minutes passed as scenes of her past filled the skies. Jacob studied Helen without a word, tracking her grasp. Helen stared at the visions and Jacob with a dulled expression. The rallies flashed in the sky.

Jacob waved. The rally paused in the sky. What do you think about this rally?

Helen did not reply. Jacob waved his hand and the presentation continued.

Images of her speeches played out.

What do you think of your own words? Jacob asked.

Helen did not respond.

Her focus went to the protesters outside the gates. Their screaming cries, the flinging of garbage and protest signs lit up Helen’s view as the panoramic scene took over the entire skyline. The hate she and the NOP brought out of these onlookers surrounded her.

The anger and pain felt by the protesters inflicted themselves upon Helen as if she took every emotion she forced upon the innocent. She experienced the pain she brought people. Her words, and her life, turned on her. The pain she had felt, and more importantly the pain she had given during her life was now hers to bear.

She recalled the racist terms she used, and her stomach knotted, but Helen couldn’t let go of the energy attached to her last emotion with the attack fresh in her mind. So, where am I going next?

"This will be a great lesson for