Out Of Time Book (In Progress)
Out of Time
By Tristan Lewthwaite
The Security Guard lazily thumbed the safety of his machine gun, scanning the area around him with a yawn. His night shift was almost over and as the first streams of light rose over the Blue Ridge Mountains, he was not only reminded of its beauty, but also the peace. With another yawn he cursed the fact that he was even here, and the only reason why is that over the last couple of days, extremely weird readings had been coming from a heavily forested area near the Blue Ridge Mountains, it distorted communications as well as Wi-Fi for all of Virginia and parts of Maryland. It got bad enough to the point where the Government sent in a team of scientists with a escort of soldiers to figure out what it was. They found a weird clearing, one seemingly almost made at random. For some reason, nothing would grow here, it was a barren dirt octagon, with no signs of anything except a couple animal tracks in the dirt. The Head Scientist had taken out a scanner with two Antennae on the end and gasped. It had been coming from underground, and only by a couple hundred feet. Ever since then, a excavation team with a armed escort had been there, trying to solve the problem. They had excavated everything but a final wall, which scanners showed was hollow for some reason. They were waiting for a military General to see what this was, as well as a spokesperson just in case it was some type of intelligent life form.
Just as he was watching the sun, he heard the noise of a Black Hawk Helicopter, its sleek black design and wings bristling with weaponry, it set down on the makeshift Heli-Landing, and the Security Guard ran over to the door on its side and opened it, standing at attention while the General, a man in his late forties, brown hair streaked with grey, and a sharp chin to boot came out, waiting patiently for the other man, the supposed “spokesperson” was old; late 60s at least. He had his grey hair in a ponytail and was dressed in a three piece black suit, with wire framed glasses and a big nose, he also had brought a mahogany wood cane with him, and after the General got out, he was helped by his two guards, both making sure he had his cane with him as they got out. “Sir!” The Security Guard yelled, beckoning to entrance to the final wall, about 100 feet from the dirt opening. “Lead the way soldier.” The General said, his voice calm and at ease, but containing unspoken authority. Doing as instructed, he lead the General and Spokeperson, not to mention the entourage as well, to the entrance with a generator running next to it, three wires snakeing into the opening. Walking down the makeshift dirt stairs, they came into an opening about 12 feet tall and 20 feet wide,with three lamps, one in each of the corners, save for one which had a table with a laptop and some notes, providing some bright light as the Head Scientist, a mid 40s Red haired woman with safety goggles on, worked at the controls and was preparing the Drill that was going to be used to break the wall down. She acknowledged them with a nod and set the Drill into position. It was a ugly yellow thing, little more then a square box with tracks, controls, a chair, and a wickedly teethed drillbit on the end of it. “Start it ” The General commanded, and with a beep and a audible roar, it tore into the wall, sending dirt and rock flying everywhere, while the Security Guard and the Spokepersons entourage shielded the two from flying rocks and dirt. Within a couple minutes they were through, and after backing up the drill so the entrance could be used,they heard the other three scientists come down the dirt steps with a couple radiation wands and handheld computers. The Spokepersons Entourage pulled out their pistols and with the Security Guard readied with his machine gun, they slowly entered the room while everyone else followed suit.
Once inside, almost everybody gasped and then fell quiet. The first thing they felt was a low hum, it made them shake it was that powerful. They were in a room with what looked like an ancient circular clock laying in the center, providing all the light. The Structure had a solid metal outline, the top of which had an indiscernible langauge that seemingly repeated on top of said metal outline. Ringed by three humanoid statues, each holding a Pickaxe, what looked to be a flower, and a sword, their eye glowing orange. When they all stepped closer to the clock, they could feel the energy coming off of it, it was a dark grey thing with no hands, instead two solid lines in a cross formation of equal length slowly turning, under the “hands” there was what can best be discribed as energy. Boundless energy taking on a soft white, then blue, then slowly turning more orange until a sound akin to the noise that a tea kettle makes when it needs to be taken off the burner. Within moments all the Scientists equipment started going crazy, the needles breaking on some and the personal computers just shorting out. The Scientists screamed as the screeching noise got louder, and with it a wind that came out of no where, pulling at everyones clothes. Too late they realized the danger as what will be known as the Clock stopped turning. The Security Guard turned to run as he saw that everyone else was already running, within moments he felt a great energy fill him, accompanied by the low hum, his vision turned white as he was running, and following a giant boom, he, the black hawk, all the scientists, the General and everybody else was evaporated. As well as most of the trees within a mile radius. They were already dead, but had a person about a mile away been watching, they would have seen a Obelisk of pure sand desert color rise up to about 80 feet, with blood red lines of energy in the center of each side of the structure. Then they would have seen four smaller Obelisks, each 25 feet high and about 30 feet away from the center Obelisk and at a equal distance from each other, angled towards the top of the first Obelisk, and they would have been amazed at how the tops of each Obelisk opened, and 4 beams of blood red energy would have combined at the top of the center Obelisk to form one massive white beam of energy that was launched into the sky, which then impacted with one of the atmosphere layers, and sent a huge way of white energy across the earth. Even after impact, it maintained a constant beam which still goes and can be seen from miles away. Those few that saw the beam were awed, some thought it was an Alien invasion; others watched and thought it was God himself. It never occured to most that what had just occured was the equivalent of pushing the “reset button” on the human race.
1 year 4 months later.
16 year old Darren Carter Diaz blankly cleaned his Dad’s-now his- HK416 rifle. With a Eco-plastic and metal body with matte black paint, it gave off the impression of a professionals weapon, clean cut and dangerous, with the only custom change on the paint job was above the safety; the name “Betsy” scratched in white stencil. Before his former-PMC Dad have succumbed to the disease 3 months earlier, he had given Darren and his brother Caleb 3 things before telling them he loved them and when he hugged them he pinched both of them in a certain spot on the neck, knocking them out. Placing them gently in his bed, he put the three items- a eggshell white envelope with the words “Open in a week, Der EisenFestung.”,A bronze key to the armory safe their Dad kept in the basement, and a box with two black bulletproof vests inside it- on the wooden table next to his bed. After kissing both boys on the foreheads, he left the house and with a hacking cough, glanced back at them as he closed the door to the bedroom and then seconds later, the front door. With a sigh, he had walked down the street and had vanished down the suburbian street, ignoring gunshots and screams as he looked for a place to suitably die. Darren and Caleb on the other hand, woke up in about a hour or so, and seeing the items, opened the letter right away anyway. Inside was a map with a place circled in red ink with the words “a new safe home for you boys” scrawled in tiny writing above the red circle and a note with a bunch of writing on it. Darren had realized that the red ink circled what looked like the location that his Dad had gone to with his survivalist buddies on the weekends. Being a reclusive moody teenager, Darren had always complained to Dad about not being able to go. And he had always said the same thing, ” Darren you are not ready for this adult survivalist stuff yet, when you are 18 you can join the adults, until then, you are still a kid and cannot handle the tools we use, end of story.” And with that, he would leave. All he knew about the place is that his Dad called it “Der Festung”, which was weird considering Dad never spoke German otherwise, and they were not German ethier. When asked about it Dad had said one of his friends , Marko, a slightly chubby olive skinned man who wore glasses, was a huge WW2 history buff and said that they were supposedly making a “festung”; German for Fortress. When asked what he ment, Dad simply smiled and winked, saying “One day you’ll find out” and went into the TV room, never talking about it again. All he had known was that it was in a forest, and he had been proven right. The forest near the blue ridge mountains in fact, a mere two hours away by car. Of course, Darren smirked as he thought back, driving in this new world is like having a megaphone yelling “rob me and steal this car please!!” so he and Caleb would have to go by foot. Which would take awhile. So they had spent the past week gathering supplies for the trip, and thanks to the key, provided enough ammo and weapons, with “Betsy” having a piece of paper tied to the barrel with a string saying “For Darren, you are the man of the house now, use “Betsy” as I did; to protect yourself and your loved ones from those that would hurt you. Love ya son, -Dad.” Tommorow morning they would leave, both with backpacks and their Bulletproof vests, Darren with “Betsy” and a grey matte-paint M9; Caleb with the lighter MP5 and M911 strapped to his backpack. Darren shoved his right hand into his pocket, and pull out the folded photo of his Dad holding baby Caleb in his arms, and a 4 year old Darren smiling at the camera with his hand holding his Mothers. Darren looked at her a long time, emotion tugging at him as he tried to remember her.