Strange Short Tales 2
Charles E. Wells
Copyright Charles E. Wells 2011
Published by Wellston Publishing at Smashwords
Visit the Author’s website at:
http://www.wellstonpublishing.com
Wellston Publishing
Dublin, Georgia 31021
www.wellstonpublishing.com
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Oh Hell
By Charles Wells
Myra watched the flow of data scrolling up the computer monitor for a few minutes then leaned back in her chair and sighed, "You know, Carol? I think traffic today is the heaviest I've seen since I got here. Are you seeing all the hits we are getting? "
Carol, seated next to Myra's desk, nodded and said, "Yea I do but it's normal for this time of the year. This is your first Christmas on the job, isn't it?"
"Yes it is. How many years have you been here?"
"Gosh, around thirty or so I think. I lost count so who knows. There's always a peak around Christmas each year. You'll get use to it."
"I don't know. I was hoping things would drop off but it's just the opposite. Why are people like that? They get all wound up and emotional around the holidays?"
"Well think about it, Carol. How did you end up here in the first place? Wasn't it Christmas when you committed suicide back in your other life?"
"Well, yes it was, now that you mention it. Boy would I like to go back and do that over again."
"Wouldn't we all, but you left nothing to chance when you committed suicide that night; I mean, jumping off a bridge I can understand, but you jumped off a railroad bridge and landed on the tracks two seconds before the train hit you. Not much of a chance for being rescued doing that now was there?"
"I wasn't interested in being rescued. I just wanted out of what I thought was a miserable life at the time."
"Well honey," Myra said laughing. "That life was a lot better than this one, was it not?"
"I can't argue that one bit. I never believed in life after death. I figured I'd jump, die, and then nothing; end of the road but by God, here we are."
"Oh it wasn’t by God that anyone ends up in hell. We do it ourselves you know? But in my other life, I was a firm believer in God. That's how I got this job and not one lower down the system. I guess I’m a good example of how a firm believing Christian can end up in hell."
"How is that possible? I mean, you believed and yet end up here anyway?"
"I believed but I didn't accept God's plan for me. I went through all the right motions and that was it. I fooled everyone except God. I'm sure there are many shocked souls in heaven right now, wondering where I've gotten off to. And lord knows at some of the logins I've seen but never expected to end up here. I mean, come on, the President of that Bible College? How on earth did he, of all people, fall from God's grace?"
"I never believed in anything, God or the Devil."
"Oh, don't let him hear you call him that, Myra. He hates that title. His name is Lucifer, which means "Angel of Light."
"So that story about how the dev… uh, I mean, Lucifer, tried to overthrow God and heaven in a war is true?"
"Oh it's true all right but that wasn't a war. It was one battle only so the war between God and Lucifer isn't over yet. It's just waiting for the next battle to start. Our job is to keep the armies building and maintain the records accordingly."
"Are we going to be called on to join in the fight when it does start?"
"Oh we joined the fight the moment our souls logged in here, but I'm not complaining. Millions of other souls have it much worse."
"You mean…"
"Yes, Myra, I mean all those souls locked in the lower levels."
"I thought Dante's Inferno was just fiction. Are you saying that hell has varying punishments; mild for some and harsh for others?"
"No, Myra. All punishment is the same. Souls like you and I could end working side by side with Adolph Hitler or Billy Graham."
Myra gasped in shock. "What? You mean Billy Graham is here in…"
Myra laughed aloud then said, "I love using that joke on unsuspecting souls. The Billy Graham I'm referring to is from Cleveland and is no relation to the Reverend in North Carolina that you are thinking."
"Oh gosh, Carol. That's not even funny. I mean, that man is pure God driven and everyone knows it."
"Obviously you didn't, at least, not when you were alive and it might have made a difference."
"Touché, Carol, but back to the main issue. Pain is pain, right?"
No. The pain we souls feel is not physical, it's emotional. Have you looked closely at some of the souls your computer system is logging into the database? Have you read WHY they are coming here rather than paradise in heaven?"
"I stopped doing that a while back. It's sad to read all that."
"Oh you don't have to read it. Your job is to monitor the systems but you'll notice how the traffic load affects your emotional pain. Don't deny it, Carol. It does wreck your insides and you know it. That's our punishment for all eternity."
Carol lowered her head and nodded. "Yes, I noticed it but I thought it was just me getting use to the job or something."
"Oh you just wait ten years honey, and you'll start feeling the pain. It's endless, timeless, and no better or worse than what the souls lower in our system are going through at the moment."
"I thought they were thrown into the fires down there and burned forever. That's gotta hurt something awful."
"A soul does not include a physical body, Carol. Think about it. When was the last time you scratched your nose or felt a cramp in a leg muscle?"
"Well, now that you mention it, I never have."
"That's because you don't live inside a body anymore that will issue such discomforts. You are a spiritual being and such creatures as you and I can't be tormented by physical pains. It has to be emotional ones like you just felt. Don't deny it. I saw your face twitch just then, your computer beeped a login."
"Carol, you just said that I don't have a body. How can you see my face and for that matter, how am I seeing yours right now?"
"Your eyes are seeing the spirit but your thinking process converts the image to something you can understand and palate. I've been around long enough that I know how to see what is there. I can see the soul and not just the images that memories put up, but I try not to. One day you'll figure how to do that too but don't be in any rush. The ugliest human you can remember seeing in your life would be a super star beauty compared to the looks of the souls you will find and see here."
"You mean, that expression about bare your soul, happens in hell?"
"Oh it happens; trust me. Have you ever wandered further down to the lower levels during one of your breaks?"
"I've only been here six months. I don't get my first break until two years."
"Oh that's right. I forgot they changed the rules on that. I got my first break at six months. Anyway, two levels down from us you can sense the heat of the eternal fires burning. A level or two below that, you can feel the screams and moans of the lost souls. Its heart wrenching, so count your lucky stars that you and I were selected to work here rather than down in the pits below."
Myra said nothing and looked back at her computer screen. One packet rolled up on the screen and caught her eye. She clicked to open it for closer reading but strangely enough, she already knew what was there before the first data appeared on the screen. It was her best friend's mother from back on earth. "Oh no, how is that possible? I knew that woman. She is a sweet lady and loves everyone."
A voice from behind her said softly, "Anything is possible with me, Myra."
They spun around and looked at the most beautiful, handsome creature either had ever set eyes on. It was their boss, Lucifer, the angel of light and king of the darkness.
A gorgeous smile spread across the face of the being and Myra said, "I'm sorry, sir. I saw her name coming across the screen and I wanted to…"
"Oh there's no need to apologize, Myra. That's why you are here. It's your job to see these things and the more it disturbs your soul, the better for us all. But do tell me this. Why do you find it so shocking that this woman logged in on our systems and not the other?"
"Well, I've known her and her daughter all my life."
"You were only 27 years old when you got here, Myra so that's not saying a lot."
"I know, well, I mean, uh, she was so religious and such a kind person. How could she be sent to hell?"
"Nobody is sent to hell, Myra, not even you. You chose hell the second you jumped off that railroad bridge."
"But I didn't know there was life after death. I didn't know there was a heaven and hell.. a real God and a real Dev.. uhh, a real you."
"You know about us but you refused to open your soul to access from either side. In a default situation like that, we get your soul regardless of your actions on earth."
"That doesn't seem fair, sir."
"Neither does God letting your newborn child die before your eyes, but it happens. He and I have reasons for our actions and those reasons we do not have to explain to anyone. Are we clear on that issue now?"
"Yes sir, crystal clear."
"Good, now, as for that lady friend you once knew, she was sweet and kind to others. So what? Your trainer and mentor here has proven we can be equally sweet and kind in our realm as well."
"Oh Carol has been wonderful to me."
"But you didn't expect me to look this way, did you? I mean, I'm a beautiful, breath taking sight, am I not?"
"OH yes sir, I find you extremely alluring and enticing. And it's true, I was thinking you would look like a screaming nightmare, a violent, mean, pitchfork in hand sort of nasty thing."
Lucifer laughed heartily, "Oh that image of me is so entertaining to those souls on earth. I guess I should roam about up there more often appearing that way but I would never get anything done. I have an army to build and God and that insufferable child of his is testing my patience these days."
Myra glanced at Carol who perceptibly shook her head from side to side. "Oh, okay. I see your point sir."
"Good, now I'll let you two get back to work. I need to meet with Billy Graham in thirty minutes."
"The one from Cleveland?"
Lucifer snarled, "No, the real one Myra. He's getting on up there in age and I'm hoping his mind is getting a bit senile. I enjoy trying to sign him up for a thirty year contract but he's too locked into his ways with the other side. I persist though. One time, I came close to signing up that vagabond son of God in the Desert. I offered him everything in this world to join my side but he turned me down flat. Can you imagine that, and his reward for turning me down? They dragged him off to a hillside and nailed him to a cross."
Myra nodded. "He died for our sins."
Lucifer slapped her face, or what was supposed to be a face, and barked, "He died because he turned down my offer and all control of eternal life within it. You died because you refused to accept his actions on the cross. That pleases me and it's why you are here. Never again let me hear you speak of forgiveness of sin because the lack of it is what gets you here. Sin, as you know it, is defined by God and irrelevant in our world. There is no sin in hell but there is punishment, so both of you get back to work or I'll replace you with the next two souls who login. You'll be sent deeper down to shovel brimstone into the fires."
A voice over the PA system said, "Lucifer? The President of Iran is on the communicator again and he wants permission to launch his nuclear weapon today."
Lucifer shook his head. "No, tell him to hold on a while longer. I'm not ready yet. I'll explain it to him later."
"Yes sir, I'll tell him. Oh, and I have those advanced reservations for you at the United Nations meeting next week. You'll be the first Guest Speaker."
"Thank you Betty and you better cancel my other appointments for that week. I want to throw a few sales pitches around at the new President of the United States. See if you can arrange a meeting for me, please?"
"Yes sir."
The PA clicked off and Myra looked at the now empty space where Lucifer had just been standing. "He's gone?" she asked Carol.
"Oh no, never assume because he's here all the time even if you can't see him."
"But he's meeting with the President of the USA? Wow."
Carol looked back at her computer monitor, smiled and said, "Honey? He was elected to that office three times so far. It's nothing new for him."
END
"Permuda Grass"
By Charles Wells
The Mayor of West Creek looked at Fire Chief Bill Tassel and asked, "Why can't you just fire him? I'll get the rest of the council to support doing so if that's what you are worried about."
The Chief shifted position in the chair where he sat across from the Mayor's desk and replied, "No sir, Mister Mayor, I can't fire Otis. He's the guy who came up with the new concept on starving a mobile home fire long enough to try a rescue. If we fire him, how is that going to look to the other departments he trained in that process? He's traveled all over the southeast teaching it during the last two years?"
"Bill? The Macon fire chief called me the day after Otis finished that training session with his crews. The last night he was there, he got arrested for public drunk and disorderly. We, the city, had to post a fifteen hundred dollar bond to get him out."
"I signed that bond, Mayor, not the city, and four of the Macon FD guys were arrested too in the same incident. They were sore losers in poker and jumped O.T."
"I'm not interested in why he was arrested, chief."
"Okay, but I didn't use my city title or city property as security for the bond, I used my own home."
"No matter, what you did reflects on the city. Indirectly we are responsible for your doings. Just tell me this? Why are you so gun ho to keep him? He's a disaster just waiting to happen. He is too much like his old man; loves his liquor. He embarrassed us with that rampage last week and you know it. Half the council wants him gone and the other half …"
Bill interrupted, "and the other half wants to buy him a drink or owes him money from the poker games they have at the station house on Tuesday nights."
The Mayor stood a tad too quickly, leaned over the desk toward the Chief and snapped, "Get rid of him, Bill. You can simply write it up that you smelled liquor on his breath and everyone will believe you, and that is an order."
The Chief stood also, looked at the Mayor squarely in the eyes. "I already know about you ordering the Police Chief have his men focus on catching O.T. driving drunk, but it's not going to happen. He knows better than to endanger anyone on the road like that. He lives about ten blocks from the fire station so most days he just walks to work. That and nobody ever reported him drinking on the job. When that fire alarm goes off he is the first man on the truck and he is the first man with an axe, knocking in the door of a burning building."
"Bill, there are other things you don't know about the situation."
"I know that he's got a wife and five kids that he supports on the scraggly wages this city pays. No, I will not fire him. If you want him gone then you come do it. O.T. is the best man I've got."
"I do not have the authority to fire one of your employees, but I do have the authority and backing of council to fire you."
"Then you are welcome to do so at your convenience, Mayor but think about it. Wasn't it just last year that you and the council were giving O.T. a medal for saving that woman and her kid from their mobile home fire out 80 highway? Didn't the Fire Marshal in Atlanta say that was the first case in history of a fully engulfed mobile home rescue? Now if you fire him, how's that going to look after Chuck Veal and his newspaper get done with you? And you can bet your boots I'll give him all the inside information he needs to write that story as well. He's get the whole sordid pile of crap you are laying out."
"I don't take threats well, Chief. I suggest you…"
Bill cut him off. "I don't care, Mayor. But there's another side affect you should consider. If you fire me and Otis then most of the guys in the department will walk out right behind us. You'll lose the entire force in one fell swoop. So, whose going to respond to calls if that happens? You and the council members might be able to put out political fires, but not the real ones. If Otis goes, then the rest of us walk with him."
The Mayor turned his back on the Chief and stared out the office window. "You've got until Friday, Bill, and if Otis isn't gone by then, you will be."
"Why wait, Walter. I'm not going to do it."
"We'll see, just remember, Friday at shift change, O.T. Sanders gets the pink slip or both of you will get one Saturday morning at ten am."
Bill spun around and stormed out of the Mayor's office. Ten minutes later, he was walking past the entrance to the city park and decided to take a walk around the small lake there. Doing such things helped him think better.
Otis, or O.T. as his friends called him, was probably the first friend he'd ever had in life. They grew up together on the river side of West Creek County and if anyone knew O.T.'s family history better than Bill, then it was Otis.
O.T.'s father had been a binging alcoholic until the day he choked and died while passed out cold. Before his death, he often left O.T. and his younger sister to take care of their selves for food, clean clothes, even getting to school on time. Their mom had died in a car crash four years before their dad's heavy drinking turned into staying dead cold drunk for weeks on end. An elderly neighbor and a distant aunt were their only help if things went south while their father was passed out in a dead stupor. That happened once when the electric company turned off power to the house when dear old dad had "forgotten" to pay the bill on time. The neighbor took care of it and a few days later, after dad was sobered up, got their money back without so much as a thank you. Bill realized these were old memories, faint yet brilliant in their meanings, that lingered near the top of his mind. Now, today, 30 years later, he was risking his career to avoid firing his childhood friend.
Bill walked a few dozen yards down the grass pathway near the park's lake border then stopped and sat down at the first bench. The sun was bright and the day humid and hot. He shaded his eyes with one hand and automatically scanned the distant banks of the water, an old military habit, and then slowly absorbed the rest of the scene. Once satisfied there were no enemy soldiers lurking there in ambush, he leaned back heavily on the bench's backrest and closed his eyes.
He and Otis had dreamed of being firemen one day and followed through. O.T. should have been promoted to Chief ahead of him but his poker and alcohol held him down on almost every promotion. None the less, once promoted to Chief, Bill had promoted Otis to his Assistant even though half a dozen others were in line for the job seniority wise. But Otis was the man he wanted watching his back if there were dangers about, and vice versa.
The job of Chief not only required management skills, but political maneuvering and butt kissing of a nature that Otis was not adept. Bill had hones the skills on the way to the top and until the present Mayor and administration had been elected, he'd had few problems keeping the job. But now, things had changed and Otis was about to drag both of their careers down into the septic tank.
The voices of two distant children broke through his thoughts and reached his awareness. It was too early for them to be out of school which meant somebody was playing hooky. Not that he and O.T. were innocent of that crime, but hypocrite or not, those kids shouldn't be skipping school and roaming the park. Another round of chatter and he realized the kids were in the distance behind him. He turned his head and stared across the grass covered open area of the park.
At first he saw nothing until a few birds took wing suddenly from a distant oak tree, and then he saw them, sitting underneath at the base. It was two boys and they were playfully arguing but he couldn't tell about what. He could hear them talking again but not clearly enough to follow their discussion.
Bill squinted and tried to distinguish their faces but couldn't see clearly enough due to the distance and visual ripple of heat waves coming off the grass. He didn't feel like walking across the hot grass to confront them for being out of school but neither could he ignore them and walk away. That's when a voice from right beside him on the bench said, "It's okay, Chief. Let 'em be. They just having fun for the mischief of skipping school. Pretty soon they'll be up and running across the field of Permuda Grass you know?"
The voice startled him to say the least. He had no idea that someone had quietly joined him on the park bench since he hadn't heard a thing. Had he fallen asleep? At the unexpected voice he turned sharply and looked into the soft brown eyes of an elderly black man. The top of his head was bald and the lower part his face spouted a bright white beard highlighted by puffy olive brown cheeks. The man reminded him of the actor, Jimmy Baskett, who played Uncle Remus in the 1940's Disney Movie, "Songs of the South."
"I'm sorry Chief; I didn't mean to startle you like that."
Bill blinked his eyes a few times then took a deep breath and said, "No, its fine. I guess I dozed off there. I didn't hear you come up and sit down; thought I was alone, and I haven't heard it called Permuda Grass since I was a kid. It's actually Bermuda Grass, isn't it?"
"Don't really matter what we call it, Chief, but me and you grew up and as kids, we called it Permuda, did we not?"
"Yes we did. Gosh I haven't thought about that in ages."
"Well, like I was just saying, I'm sorry I scared you. I was just noticing you lookin' at the two boys across the Permuda field yonder, and, well, I know you are a big city official and all, that me think you were about to go out there and chide them for skippin' school today. What I said just now was, you just let 'em be. They just bein' boys is all."
Bill looked back over his shoulder at the two kids under the tree. He remembered how he and O.T. use to skip school too. They would sneak out and over to this same park and spend their day. He turned his head and looked back at the old man. "Yea, well, I've been guilty of that once or twice when I was young and still in school. But now, sitting here as an adult, I forget that side of it and only see the loss for missing class today."
The elderly gentleman nodded but kept right on smiling. "Oh, they are gonna' miss a lot for not bein' in that class today, Chief. They gonna' miss an awful lot. They'll probably be pretty unhappy about it too once they find out just what all they did miss."
Bill felt something tug at his mind, some strange sensation he didn't understand. It was more mental than physical, more unreal than fact. He looked closely at the old man and asked, "How are they going to know what they missed if they are sitting under that tree and not in class?"
"Why Chief, they'll be the talk of the town by this time tomorrow."
"What do you mean the talk of the town? What are they going to do here in the park? Set fire to the grass or something?"
"Oh no, no, them two yonder ain't bad youngin's like you think. They good boys and they have a fine life ahead of them since they are out yonder under that tree rather than sittin' in that classroom, dying young like their classmates are about to do."
Bill sat up fully alert and sternly asked, "What are you talking about old man? If you are trying to make a joke then it's not even close to funny."
The call pager on Bill's belt suddenly beeped loudly but without looking, he pressed the button to silence the alarm and waited for the old man to explain. A long moment passed, a moment of smiling, twinkling brown eyes, and finally the old lips parted. "Their classmates, all twenty one of them, are going to die in just a few minutes when their school blows up. It's that old natural gas boiler that creates the steam for the building, Chief. You know, the one you been hounding them about for a year now to shut down and get fixed. Well it got shut down when the hot weather came back this spring, but that gas release valve done rusted off and started leaking. It's about to blow up and kill them children in the room next to it, the room them two boys yonder was suppose to be in right now. They'll be the only survivors too, thanks to their playin' hooky like they done today."
Bill jumped to his feet and cried, "Do what? What do you mean old man? Where did you hear about that? Only I and a few of the board members knew that gas fired old steam plant was worn out and getting dangerous. Who told you that?"
"Chief" the old man said using a wrinkled dark hand and finger to point. "That little talkie box on your belt? It's them callin' for you now to come to the school. They started smellin' an odor but they don't know the dangers just yet and got them children out. Right now they just want you to come see about it is all. You best get going too but there ain't but one way to save them children. Somebody else has to die for them. Are you willing and able Chief? Are you ready to die in the place of those children?"
Bill pulled the unit off his belt and checked the call back number. It was his secretary from the fire house and she had sent the "Urgent" code number to him. He needed to get back to his truck and the radio there to find out what was going on because, like an idiot, he had left his cell phone on the charger at the office.
He looked up from the digital numbers and into the empty space of the park bench. The old man was gone. He blinked a few times, then glanced back across the open grassy field and watched the two boys still sitting there laughing and talking. They would be the only survivors and twenty one of their classmates would die? Dream or not, he spun around on one foot and was in a dead run by the time he went out the park gates.
He reached his red pickup a moment later, jumped inside and started the engine while reaching for the radio microphone with the other. "This is WCFD Unit One. Mary, I want you to trigger the alarm. Tell O.T. to meet me at the Johnson Street School in three minutes. There's a possible gas leak. Then call the school and tell them to evacuate the building ASAP."
"Chief, how did you know? Mrs. Harbin, the Principal of that school, called a few moments ago and reported a strange odor. They couldn't tell where it was coming from, but they only smelled it inside the maintenance room of the building. They didn't want to disrupt classes unless you said so."
"I say so, Mary. Call her back right now. I want those kids out of the building and fast. Have them move them at least a block away or more. Copy that?"
"Okay Chief, but I'm guessing it's just a skunk or squirrel crawled into the boiler or something, but you the boss."
"I'm the boss and I'm on the way to the school. Get O.T. and the crew rolling and warn them of a possible gas leak in the boiler room, but first priority is to get those kids out of the building."
"Roger Chief. I'll yell back when it's done."
He felt a deep rumbling vibration that at first, he thought was the truck malfunctioning. When it persisted, he realized it was the ground shaking beneath the vehicle. He looked up and saw a giant, rising black cloud of smoke and debris in the air. He was too late. The explosion had already occurred and he was still three blocks away. "Mary? Call out a code four, all available units in the area. We now have an explosion at the school. Get everybody that's available. See if any surrounding counties can respond as well."
"Oh my God, Chief, my nephew goes to that school. There are three classes there, K through second grade. Probably a hundred kids and teachers all total."
"Calm down Mary and do your job. We need you right now."
"Roger Chief. I'm working the computer and phones as we speak. Oh Gosh, I felt the whole building shake here."
Another voice cracked over the radio. "Chief, this is O.T. We're pulling out now from the station. ETA about five minutes; what's your twenty?"
"I'm coming up on the scene now. I'll call back a site report when I can get a closer handle on what's happened."
"Copy, we're on the way."
"Otis, bring it in from the east side near the boiler building out back. I think that's where our source is going to be. Mary, alert every hospital in the area for fifty miles and put them on standby."
"Copy Chief. ETA is four."
Bill turned the corner and the school building came into clear view. A group of children were running out the side door and stopping, confused and clogging the other still trying to get outside. He steered the truck toward them, jumped a street curb and aimed for the growing wad of kids. When he was a dozen yards away he slammed the truck's transmission into park, grabbed a handheld walkie talkie from the console rack. He bailed out with the vehicle with it still moving forward and the gears in the transmission grinding as they tried to lock the truck in park.
When he was clear the door, he started running toward the children and yelling, "Kids. Come this way right now. Come on, quickly."
Several of the smaller children saw him motioning, saw his uniform, and then started running toward him. The rest of the growing group caught on to the idea and followed their classmates. The jam at the doorway to the building started thinning out and more children were able to move out of the smoke filled hallways to the outside.
The first child to reach Bill was a young girl probably not more than six or seven years old. "Honey, what's your name?"
"Nancy Peterson. Something's on fire in the school."
"Yes there is so we need to move away as fast as you can."
Bill pointed at an elderly man and woman who were standing on the porch of their home watching from across the street. They were safely enough away and that is where Bill needed to send the kids.
"Nancy? Do you see that man and woman over there across the street? I want you to take everyone and lead them over there for me, okay? Can you do that?"
She nodded, reached around and grabbed several hands of kids around her, then started tugging them toward the street. Bill motioned to the others and yelled, "Okay, follow Nancy please, and hurry; follow her across the street then stay there."
Bill watched as the kids started running after Nancy. He looked up and saw the old man had come down from the porch and was moving toward the approaching kids. Bill kept showing new arrivals where to go and the next time he looked around, the old man was standing dead center in the middle of the street, motioning for the kids to keep coming because he was there blocking the traffic for them. His wife, now on the front lawn, was gathering the children together in a circle and showing them a path around behind the house to the rear yard. Several were already moving that way the last time Bill looked.
A woman appeared next to Bill and started helping him encourage the kids to keep moving, and pointing directions for them toward the old man in the street. Bill yelled, "You stay here and keep them moving. Are there any open flames inside that you can see?"
"No, just heavy smoke and Mrs. Harbin is halfway down the hall on her knees, showing the kids how to get down low to the floor for air. But we need to hurry, the smoke is getting thicker and it's hard to breathe in there."
"How many kids are in the building?"
"There's 120 or so, eight teachers, two para pros, and four lunchroom workers, oh, and the janitor, Charlie too. There's a teacher at the other exit doors on the opposite side of the building."
"Okay, you keep the kids moving across the street then you get over there with them. Keep them as far away as you can. Rescue units are on the way."
"Is this a terrorist bombing, Chief?"
"No, it's an accident" Bill yelled as he raced toward the doorways where the number of kids coming out was slowed to a trickle.
When he arrived at the doorway, another teacher was there down on her knees helping and showing the kids out. Black smoke poured out just over her head and Bill felt the first heat wave strike his face. He raised the walkie talkie to his mouth and said, "Otis? I'm on the east exit door and I'm going inside."
"Hold on, Chief. We're pulling into the back lot of the school now. I'll bring you an air tank."
"Meet me in the hallway with it. I'm heading inside. I think about half the students are out on of the building; how does it look over there?"
"There are a couple of teachers leading the kids across the street. I'd say close to 50 kids or so. I'll meet you in the center hallway of the complex so keep your head down until I can get some air to you."
"How much damage is there on that side? None I can see any this one but we've got heavy smoke coming out the exit doorway."
"Looks like one of the extension buildings lost a roof and there's twenty foot high flames coming out. There's a collapsed wall on the adjacent side extension. Do you want me to check there or come to you first?"
A voice from further down the hall yelled, "Chief? That's the gym he's talking about and there's a second grade class in there right now. This hallway turns left near the doors to it. Follow me and I'll show you where." I'm going to…"
Bill cut her off. "Mrs. Harbin? You are going to exit the building right now. You're about to lose it from this smoke. Now stay low and get moving back the way I just came. The students are safe, they're across the street. Get out of here and we'll get the rest of the kids."
"Chief?" Otis snapped impatiently over the radio. "You copy?"
"Yea Otis, I copied. I'm sending the Principal out the east side exit. Get somebody around there to help her. She's suffering from smoke inhalation. I'm getting there too, so come straight on inside and meet me about middle way down the hall."
"Roger. I'm at the west exit doors now and coming inside. It looks like the worse of the smoke is tunneling your way. Stay on your toes in case there's a flashover."
"Okay Otis but get here fast. That collapsed wall you see is the school gym and I've been informed there is a class of about 20 kids and a teacher inside."
"I didn't see any smoke or fire coming out of there while ago but the roof has folded down on top. We can't get in there from the outside without cutting and it's awful close to a fuel tank next to the building."
Mrs. Harbin, crawling past him, said, "That's a fuel storage tank, natural gas. That's a backup fuel supply for the boiler in case of outages. There's a thousand gallons of LP gas in that thing."
Bill nodded and pointed. "Thank you, now get out of here Mrs. Harbin while you can still breathe a little."
When the Principal was out of sight down the hall, Bill started crawling deeper into the building. He paused and snapped the radio switch. "Engine Company 21, that tank you see near the west wall contains a thousand gallons of LP gas. Keep the men and truck as far back as possible but start pumping water on it ASAP. Cool it down because we need more time to get the rest of the kids out of the building."
"Roger Chief, and two of the rural FD units are pulling in now so we've got some help, more coming."
"When they are hooked, let them dump on the hot area but focus on the damaged wall. That's where we have about twenty kids possibly trapped inside."
"Copy Sir. 21 out."
The wind in the hallway picked up and the smoke and heat grew more intense. Bill crawled another ten or so feet and then saw a figure of a man off to the right. He was leaning against the wall watching Bill struggle past.
Bill blinked the smoke caused tears from his eyes and realized it was the man from the park bench, but what was he doing here? The old man smiled and pointed further down the hallway. "It's okay, Chief. You just keep on moving and go help them kids before they die in that explosion. If you can save them in time then you do that, but there has to be a price to pay, and it's gonna' be an expensive one."
Bill tried to speak but the smoke choked and gagged him. "Now don't go wastin' your breath Chief. Just go on and do your job; get them youngin's out of here before they die."
A sudden uptick in the airflow sent a dark blast of heat and smoke over him. He dropped flat against the floor to get the best air he could. When it was past, he rose slowly and the old man was gone. Suddenly, a face mask was rammed over his cheeks and nose. Bill gasped into it and never had fresh air felt so good in his life. He could breathe again and the burning in his eyes started to fade.
"Easy Bill" Otis said kneeling next to him. He was holding the mask with one hand while clipping the holding straps in place with the other.
"Damn fool thing you did coming in here without an air supply. You know that don't you?"
Bill pointed down the hall and managed to say through quick breaths, "That way, Otis. Let's go. We don't much time before that fuel tank blows."
Otis took Bill's left hand and clamped it onto the loose end of his fire coat. "You hang on tight and don't let go. I'll get us there."
Otis started crawling back down the hallway with Bill holding on until his eyes and lungs were recovered enough from the smoke inhalation. In his mind, Bill was drawing a mental map as they moved, trying to tract where they were in the complex. He had come in on the east side and crawled maybe fifty feet west. Add another ten feet that Otis had just taken them and now he figured they were about near the middle of the building. Then Otis turned northward down a side hall and they kept moving.
Twenty feet later, just as Bill was back to almost normal breathing thanks to the air mask, they ran into a blockage of bricks, timbers, and debris from the first explosion. Their forward path was now clogged by pieces of the collapsed wall.
Bill saw a possible opening on the right side of the pile and pointed. "Check there, O.T. We can squeezes around I think."
Otis crawled toward it and then peered through the jumble of debris. "Yea, I see a way through but you wait here. I don't know how unstable this mess is at the moment."
A voice reached them through the pile. "Can you help us please? We're trapped on this side."
Otis leaned down again and shouted, "I'm coming through now. Is anyone hurt bad over there?"
"Just a few cuts and bruises but I need to get the children out of here. The smoke is getting thicker and the roof fell in on one side. I think the rest of it is trying to come down as well."
"Okay, mam. I'm going to see if I can work my way under. Keep the kids together until I can get through."
"Please hurry. There's a huge beam or something shaking over our heads and stuff is falling down on the kids."
Otis looked at Bill and snapped, "I'll start sending the kids back out this tunnel to you. Better get a chain of firemen down the hall with some air tanks to help lead them out of the building."
Without waiting for approval, O.T. crawled away into the small tunnel and vanished into the smoke. Bill snapped his radio on. "21?" I need four men with spare masks every fifteen or twenty feet apart down the main hallway. We're going to start sending them out and they are going to need help getting out. You copy 21?"
"Copy Chief. They are getting the tanks now. They'll be in place in two minutes."
"What's the status on the gas tank? How does it look?"
"Not good Chief. The water is steaming off faster than we can get it up there. I'm worried it could explode any minute."
"Clear everyone off the block then Jimmy. Only keep a minimum crew on the hoses."
"Roger Chief. Okay, the guys are entering the building now on the west exit."
Bill looked down the small tunnel and into a pair of tear filled eyes. It was the first child coming through. Bill held out a hand and said, "Hey there. Give me your hand and I'll help you on through."
The child reached out and locked hands, Bill pulled her on clear of the tunnel. Once out, he leaned close to her head so she could hear over the roar of the wind and shouted, "I want you to stay down like this and keep crawling straight ahead. You'll meet another fireman and he will show you the way out, okay? Can you do that?"
The little girl's head nodded but she was too afraid to go alone again back into the smoke. "It's okay, honey. There's a…"
A gloved hand reached down and took one of the girl's arms and a voice said, "I got her Chief. Come on young lady and I'll show you a way out of here. I'm going to put this mask up to your face so you can breathe in all this smoke, Okay?"
The girl let the man lift her up and put the mask over her face. Bill looked away and back into the tunnel. A second face was almost out. "Hey there, son, take my hand and we'll get you on out of there."
"The building is on fire, isn't it?"
"Not where we are but we need to get moving. Can you stay down and crawl down the hall that way? You'll meet a fireman pretty quick. Can you do that, son?"
"Yes sir" the boy said and crawled away just as a third head popped out the opening of the tunnel. "Hey there, guy. Come on and I'll help you out of there."
And so it went for the next few minutes. Otis, from the other side of the blockage, was feeding the kids to him as fast as the crews could return for another child. Bill had counted to twenty one when an adult woman's head popped out of the tunnel. "Come on" Bill said. "Stay low and move down the hall. One of the firemen will find you and get you out. Did you count to be sure all your kids are out?"
"I had two absent today so yes. They all came out this way. There's nobody left on the other side but that fireman who…"
The building shook violently and a roaring gush of black smoke and dirt exploded out of the opening from which the woman had just exited. The force of the blow rolled both of them over several times and shoved them down the hall a dozen feet. The debris pile leaned toward them and the tunnel vanished in the turmoil. Bill grabbed the teacher's arm and pulled. "Let's go; the roof's caving."
As he pulled her down the hallway, he snapped into the radio, "Otis? You copy? Otis, talk to me."
When there was no response, Bill repeated the call with the same results. Another voice broke in over the unit. "Chief, this is 21. The roof on that side annex building just folded in and I don't think you've got another second to waste before that tank blows. You need to clear the building right now."
"Copy 21, but O. T. is trapped in there. I need an axe crew and…"
Something struck Bill on the back of the head and his world turned to empty nothing. A second later, it cleared and he was back sitting on the park bench looking at the old man beside him. This time, though, the smile was gone from his face and he said, "Chief, there had to be a balance like I told you. You got them kids out of there alive but the price was high. What's done is done and everything will work on out. You just get you a nice nap here by the water and don't worry no more about it. And look yonder under that shade tree, see them boys still sittin' there? Do you know them now?"
Bill turned and looked only this time he could see them clearly. He was the young boy on the right 40 years ago, and beside him was a laughing and smiling Otis Sanders or O. T. as he loved to be called by his friends.
Bill closed his eyes and rested for… for a long time. When he next opened them he was lying on the ground and looking up into the anxious face of his fire crew. "He's coming out of it. Hey Chief? Can you hear me? Hey Chief, come on and wake up."
Bill tried to sit up but a hand held him down. "No, lay still Chief, you got whacked on the head by a two by six when a section of the ceiling came down. We got you and the teacher out okay, and all the kids are across the street with the paramedics. They're shook up but good."
"O.T.?" Bill asked, but knew the answer before anyone could say a word. "Help me up, I'm fine. What about the gas tank?"
"It's cooling down now Chief. When the roof folded, it blew enough of heat back for us to get a hose on the tank. It's okay I think."
"I want a crew to follow me back inside and let's get O.T. out from under there. I want…"
The hand holding him down said softly, "We found him, Chief. We cut a hole in the collapsed roof and found him. I'm sorry, boss. A section of the brick wall caught him square, but we got his body out."
Bill closed his eyes again and was back in the park, sitting beneath the shady oak tree and staring out across the bright green field of Permuda grass that surrounded him. Next to him was his best friend, O.T. He was telling Bill all about the time his mom and Dad had taken him and his sister swimming at the old brick yard landing on the river. His sister had found this large green snake and he convinced her to run show it to their mom. Otis knew his mother would scream and did so at the sight of the creature in her daughter's hands. Everyone had laughed, even their mom once the snake was safely taken back to the water's edge. Bill realized it was good of Otis to wait around after he died. He had waited here under the shade tree, surrounded by all the Permuda grass. It was a good day.
Three weeks later, a ceremony was held at the City Hall of West Creek. O.T.'s sister was there to accept an award for his valor and bravery. It was given by the Georgia Governor. The whole ceremony was covered by news teams from all over the southeast.
When it was finished, the mayor walked up to Bill but could not find the words. He just stood there, silent, ashamed. Bill finally said, "Mister Mayor, thanks to the man you wanted me to fire, your granddaughter is safe and alive today. You'll find my resignation on your desk in the morning and you, sir, can go straight to hell."
END
(Note from Charles Wells)
The rest of this book will be filled with "samples" of my thriller/suspense series book, "Whispering Pines." You will find the writing style and techniques very similar to what you've just read. Only the genre has changed. In the series, ESP ability of one character holds the rest of the series in place and makes it some of the most interesting (and perhaps borderline) mystery based books you've ever seen. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading with me.
"The Beginning (Whispering Pines Book One)
Chuck took the flashlight, helped Gail and Edie across the ditch, over the fence, then flicked the light on and searched around in the bushes. He spotted a game trail. “Is this the one, Edie?”
“She shrugged, “I don’t know. Which direction is the cemetery from here? I’m lost in the dark like this.”
He pointed but Jacobs corrected him by several degrees. Either way the trail led away in the general direction. “Let’s try it,” Chuck said.
The woods were dark and there was no moon in the sky. Chuck held one light to spot the way while Squires saved the other for the task ahead. Each person in line had to follow the one in front almost blindly.
Catfish stumbled several times and every once in a while a tree branch would slap at his face. Squires, not doing too well his own self, noted that Brooks had little trouble with the trail. “You’ve been in the woods quite a bit, haven’t you Brooks?”
“I was raised around worse than this. Besides, I had lots of practice lately while keeping an eye on the runway and the beaver project at the dam, too.”
Catfish, at the rear of the pack, said, “My daddy used to say a rattlesnake would bite the third person in a line of people walking past him like this. Who’s number three?”
Squires, walking just behind Chuck and Gail, said, “Shut up, Catfish. You are clumping around back there like an elephant in a mouse hole.”
Catfish laughed. “We’re huntin’ skunks, not elephants.”
The game trail curved away into the blackness. Chuck paused. “This must not be it.”
Jacobs said, “Yea. I told you the cemetery was more over this way. That trail should start angling more to the right soon.”
Chuck moved across a clear area and lost sight of the trail. He kept moving straight and picked it back up as the weeds closed in around him once again. The six of them plodded on for another fifty feet until Chuck found where the trail crossed an old rusted fence. Everyone bunched up and peered into the emptiness ahead. “This is it.” Chuck said. “Grandpa’s grave should be over this way about thirty feet.”
Jacobs shook his head. “I’m not sure. It’s been a long time since I came in from the back like this.”
Chuck stepped across the fence, helped Gail and then Edie, and said, “Come on I can find it.”
They crossed the squeaking fence and moved about searching. Chuck continued to follow the game trail remembering that the grave was very close to that.
Catfish, again at the rear of the group, looked back into the darkness. He wasn’t happy about being in a cemetery at night, let alone digging into one of the old graves. He kept asking himself, “What if Matt’s body really is in there?” The idea of seeing a decomposing Matt frightened him worse than the thought of some spirit not liking their intrusion in the graveyard. A cold shiver ran down his back and he glanced around again but saw nothing.
Chuck spotted an area of dull rusty colored red near the edge of the trail and pointed. “This is it over here.”
Carefully they worked their way through the knee-high grass and looked down at the brick topped grave of Tom Veal in silence.
Chuck said, “These bricks have been moved around lately. Can you tell it?”
Jacobs nodded while Brooks squatted and examined them more closely. “It’s pretty hard to tell in this light?”
Chuck pointed, “Right now the bricks are lined up like fireplace bricks, off set with half of one brick lapping over on half of another. The only way I’ve ever known those bricks to be laid out was end-to-end, butted together and squared directly on top of one another. I noticed it when I was here Friday morning.”
Squires spoke, “Then somebody has been here digging for sure. If your theory is right, Chuck, then his body should be down there.”
“It’s not there,” Gail said again.
Brooks pried a brick loose with his fingers. “I can see chips of the old mortar lying around. Somebody did break this apart recently and the dirt under feels pretty soft, fresh dug maybe.”
Catfish asked, “Wouldn’t they have busted up a bunch of the bricks, tearing them loose from the cement like that?”
Chuck shook his head. “They didn’t use cement too much back in those days. They used an old mortar mix that doesn’t bind together like cement. It breaks apart fairly easy.”
Brooks started lifting bricks and stacking them to one side. Jacobs joined him but Catfish was hesitant. Chuck, Gail and Edie stood watching. He whispered to Gail “I really should be helping.”
Gail grasped his arm and said, “No. You are in no shape for that. You take it easy. You’re still pale and I imagine you’re poor head is killing you.”
He smiled. “I saw my poor head in the mirror earlier. I could win a prize for the Mr. Ugly contest.”
Blake stopped a moment later to wipe sweat from his forehead. Even at night, the Georgia humidity would cause huge beads of it on anyone doing heavy labor. When he noticed Catfish standing back watching, he pointed at one of the shovels and said, “You’ll get your turn as soon as these bricks are out of the way.”
Catfish stepped over, knelt down and began moving three bricks to their one. He didn’t want to be the individual to find Matt’s body on the end of a shovel.
Brooks took the first turn with the shovel while the others stood back watching. A moment later, he paused to catch his breath and said, “The dirt is definitely soft. Somebody has been in here recently digging.”
Squires took the next ten minutes and then Catfish for a nervy five. He would gently press the tip of the shovel into the dark earth, expecting it to strike Matt’s body at any moment.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-27 show above.)