PRESIDENT JACKSON FORSYTHE - President Of The United
States, son of the late, great Quentin Forsythe who held the key in
wiping out a vicious worldwide disease in Africa back in 2003. Early
40’s, 1st African-American president.
State of the Union
December 24, 2045
Washington D.C.
2 PM
Twelve years later, President Jackson Forsythe shifted nervously
while he stared into the lingering eyes of the large collection of
television cameras. He was following in the footsteps of a powerful
predecessor. President John Faulkner had kick started many programs,
including environmental awareness, space exploration, and widening
the global scope of Yellowstone’s super volcano. Forsythe wasn’t fully
prepared to delve into what was about to happen. After many restless
hours of pouring over countless streams of data, conferring with his
most trusted cabinet members, and world-renown volcanologist, Dr.
Nolan Drake, the president had found it necessary to relinquish the
information he had gathered to the public.
Dressed in a black suit, the president began to sweat under the
hot lamps. His State of the Union would be broadcast across the
world, to millions of homes. He didn’t delude himself; his victory
at the polls was a conglomeration of outstanding heritage, robust
intellect, and marvelous good looks, not to mention his attention to
detail and keen eye for fashion. All of it culminated into the ultimate
GQ president.
Forsythe was a young gentleman. He had become the first
African-American man to be elected president. The 2044 election
was a landslide for Forsythe. He came out of a very productive first
term that catapulted him into securing a second.
The president was now faced with a threat unlike any other. He
would need the smartest scientists, keenest intellects, and strongest
wills to combat this new menace; a menace that had been hiding
for the last six hundred thousand years and quietly building enough
energy to shatter the very world they lived in.
“Are we ready?” he asked the director.
“In exactly thirty seconds, Mr. President,” he answered.
“I have the best speech writers on the planet. Ironically, I have
absolutely no idea what to say to the American public.”
“Just speak from your heart, Dad,” Valerie Forsythe said, trying
to cool down her nervous father.
“Thanks Sweetie.” He gave her a fatherly wink. In some odd
way, a six-year-old child always seemed to bring a pinch of normalcy
back into the fold of any tumultuous agenda.
“Ten seconds.” The director gave him a quick flick of his hand.
“Here we go.” The president jumbled his independence theme
tie at the last moment trying to reconfigure the sharpened entity
back to form.
“Five, four, three…,” The director’s words trailed off as he
brought down his hand in a silent gesture, signaling the president to
begin his address.
“Good evening, Ladies and Gentleman, my beloved citizens,”
Forsythe began.”I have a most pressing issue to talk about tonight.”
The president squinted underneath the increasingly hot lights.
The lamp’s distraction made it a chore for Forsythe to read off the
Teleprompter. His nerves began to get the better of him, forcing
sweat to congeal underneath his arms.
4.15.2009
3.30.2009
Ulysses Tarrant
Biography
ULYSSES TARRANT - Co-pilot/engineer, mid-50’s, very adept at
his work, both mechanical and piloting. Father figure on ship, very
opinionated, hates injustice.
Turning off the microphone, Ulysses turned to Gillian. “Shit,
there has to be hundreds of those things just waiting to attack him,”
he replied. “The kid’s never gonna make it.”
“We are too far away to help him.” Gillian added.
“Does this place have lights on the outside?” Ulysses asked
Gillian. “It has to, right? To illuminate the dark surface at night.”
Ulysses racked his brain for a possible solution for Seth.
“I’ll look for the switch.” Gillian searched the room.
Ulysses flicked the switch to the mike. “Seth, I suggest you move
slowly, I repeat, move slowly back to the station,” Ulysses told the
frightened youth.
“I’m scared.” Seth’s voice was heavy and his breathing deep and
labored. “I’m sweating inside this thing.”
Ulysses caught more of the alien-like species coming through
the holes in the ice behind Seth. “I’m coming for you. Take a breath,
I’ll be right there, son.”
“I don’t see anything for outdoor lights,” Gillian said.
“Here, try to keep him calm,” Ulysses said, running for the
door.
“Where are you going?”
“Target practice. Where’s the artillery room?” Ulysses asked. He
then quickly searched the laminated map on the side of the wall near
the exit door.
“Down the hall,” Gillian responded.
“I’ll be back.” Ulysses ran as fast he could to the artillery room.
The corridor was long and winding, but Ulysses made it to the
artillery room. He punched the red button on the side of the door.
Nothing.
The glass door wouldn’t budge. Again he slammed the button,
but to no avail.
“This is gonna hurt,” Ulysses mumbled, taking several steps
back. The engineer then began a hard run at the glass door.
Ulysses felt incredibly heroic yet monumentally stupid for trying
to launch himself through the glass door. But, he kept thinking
about Bruce Willis and his movies. Shit, if Bruce can do it, he could
do it, too.
Ulysses made contact, lurching through the glass, sending shards
flying everywhere. The scrappy engineer landed awkwardly, but safely
crashed into the gun cabinet, fracturing the wooden case. He rubbed
his bruised ankle, and picked away a few embedded shards of glass
from the side of his face and arms. Otherwise, Ulysses was flying so
high on adrenaline, he really didn’t care about the pain.
The alarm screeched throughout the station.
ULYSSES TARRANT - Co-pilot/engineer, mid-50’s, very adept at
his work, both mechanical and piloting. Father figure on ship, very
opinionated, hates injustice.
Turning off the microphone, Ulysses turned to Gillian. “Shit,
there has to be hundreds of those things just waiting to attack him,”
he replied. “The kid’s never gonna make it.”
“We are too far away to help him.” Gillian added.
“Does this place have lights on the outside?” Ulysses asked
Gillian. “It has to, right? To illuminate the dark surface at night.”
Ulysses racked his brain for a possible solution for Seth.
“I’ll look for the switch.” Gillian searched the room.
Ulysses flicked the switch to the mike. “Seth, I suggest you move
slowly, I repeat, move slowly back to the station,” Ulysses told the
frightened youth.
“I’m scared.” Seth’s voice was heavy and his breathing deep and
labored. “I’m sweating inside this thing.”
Ulysses caught more of the alien-like species coming through
the holes in the ice behind Seth. “I’m coming for you. Take a breath,
I’ll be right there, son.”
“I don’t see anything for outdoor lights,” Gillian said.
“Here, try to keep him calm,” Ulysses said, running for the
door.
“Where are you going?”
“Target practice. Where’s the artillery room?” Ulysses asked. He
then quickly searched the laminated map on the side of the wall near
the exit door.
“Down the hall,” Gillian responded.
“I’ll be back.” Ulysses ran as fast he could to the artillery room.
The corridor was long and winding, but Ulysses made it to the
artillery room. He punched the red button on the side of the door.
Nothing.
The glass door wouldn’t budge. Again he slammed the button,
but to no avail.
“This is gonna hurt,” Ulysses mumbled, taking several steps
back. The engineer then began a hard run at the glass door.
Ulysses felt incredibly heroic yet monumentally stupid for trying
to launch himself through the glass door. But, he kept thinking
about Bruce Willis and his movies. Shit, if Bruce can do it, he could
do it, too.
Ulysses made contact, lurching through the glass, sending shards
flying everywhere. The scrappy engineer landed awkwardly, but safely
crashed into the gun cabinet, fracturing the wooden case. He rubbed
his bruised ankle, and picked away a few embedded shards of glass
from the side of his face and arms. Otherwise, Ulysses was flying so
high on adrenaline, he really didn’t care about the pain.
The alarm screeched throughout the station.
3.22.2009
Dr. Philene Fanchon
Dr. Philene Fanchon-
French archaeologist, early 30’s, black
hair, intelligent, loves all of God’s creations, fascinated by ancient
relics and cultures.
EXCERPT FROM EUROPA: RISE OF THE CARNELIANS
“Find anything yet?” Adrian prompted Philene.
“Not yet. You can’t rush perfection.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling.”
Philene and Adrian approached the outer layer of the Chaos
Region. Several craters were strewn about, making their trek tricky
and aggravating.
Adrian noticed something off in the distance. A large object was
buried in the moon’s surface. “Do you see that?” he asked.
Philene squinted in the direction of Adrian’s request. “That
thing?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t it look like a ship or something?” Adrian asked
fishing in his suit for a set of binoculars.
Philene dismissed his query with a harsh reaction. “You are
dreaming. Let’s stay focused, okay?”
“It looks like some sort of alien craft. One that I certainly didn’t
design.” Adrian peered through the binoculars. “One side seems to
150 Jason Gehlert
be curved inward, possibly from some sort of impact. I think we
should check it out.”
“Yeah, after we search the caves. I can see a small opening in
the side of that mountain ahead,” Philene said as she tugged Adrian
along. His arm brace was caught inside a crater and bent to the point
where Adrian tumbled head first from the sudden jerk. “Are you
okay?” Philene turned around and helped him up.
“No, not really.” Adrian seethed. “My brace is broken.”
“I’ll help you along.” Philene grabbed his arm. “Trust me. I
won’t let you fall.”
“Better not. I sign your paychecks,” Adrian quipped. “Here.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight. “I came
prepared.”
Philene took the instrument and flicked it on, letting a powerful
beam penetrate into the mouth of the cave. “Looks creepy.”
“It reminds me of a movie I saw when I was a kid, where they
are all stranded on this planet.” Adrian shrugged. “I personally didn’t
like that movie. It had those creatures that survived and hunted
during the night.”
“I liked that movie.” Philene continued with Adrian in tow. “Stay
close and watch your step.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” Adrian commented and
looked up at the cave’s magnificent ceiling. He turned on the miniflashlights
attached to each side of his helmet and noticed something
scurrying across the rocky surface. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” Philene asked.
“Nothing. It must be medication time. My mind’s going nuts.”
“I can’t wait to find a collection of cultural remains inside this
cave. Or, better yet a specie’s perfectly mummified remains, like the
Iceman.” Philene smiled in eager anticipation.
“Let’s keep pushing forward.” Adrian illuminated the cavern
revealing a twisted path straight ahead.
“
French archaeologist, early 30’s, black
hair, intelligent, loves all of God’s creations, fascinated by ancient
relics and cultures.
EXCERPT FROM EUROPA: RISE OF THE CARNELIANS
“Find anything yet?” Adrian prompted Philene.
“Not yet. You can’t rush perfection.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling.”
Philene and Adrian approached the outer layer of the Chaos
Region. Several craters were strewn about, making their trek tricky
and aggravating.
Adrian noticed something off in the distance. A large object was
buried in the moon’s surface. “Do you see that?” he asked.
Philene squinted in the direction of Adrian’s request. “That
thing?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t it look like a ship or something?” Adrian asked
fishing in his suit for a set of binoculars.
Philene dismissed his query with a harsh reaction. “You are
dreaming. Let’s stay focused, okay?”
“It looks like some sort of alien craft. One that I certainly didn’t
design.” Adrian peered through the binoculars. “One side seems to
150 Jason Gehlert
be curved inward, possibly from some sort of impact. I think we
should check it out.”
“Yeah, after we search the caves. I can see a small opening in
the side of that mountain ahead,” Philene said as she tugged Adrian
along. His arm brace was caught inside a crater and bent to the point
where Adrian tumbled head first from the sudden jerk. “Are you
okay?” Philene turned around and helped him up.
“No, not really.” Adrian seethed. “My brace is broken.”
“I’ll help you along.” Philene grabbed his arm. “Trust me. I
won’t let you fall.”
“Better not. I sign your paychecks,” Adrian quipped. “Here.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flashlight. “I came
prepared.”
Philene took the instrument and flicked it on, letting a powerful
beam penetrate into the mouth of the cave. “Looks creepy.”
“It reminds me of a movie I saw when I was a kid, where they
are all stranded on this planet.” Adrian shrugged. “I personally didn’t
like that movie. It had those creatures that survived and hunted
during the night.”
“I liked that movie.” Philene continued with Adrian in tow. “Stay
close and watch your step.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” Adrian commented and
looked up at the cave’s magnificent ceiling. He turned on the miniflashlights
attached to each side of his helmet and noticed something
scurrying across the rocky surface. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” Philene asked.
“Nothing. It must be medication time. My mind’s going nuts.”
“I can’t wait to find a collection of cultural remains inside this
cave. Or, better yet a specie’s perfectly mummified remains, like the
Iceman.” Philene smiled in eager anticipation.
“Let’s keep pushing forward.” Adrian illuminated the cavern
revealing a twisted path straight ahead.
“
3.12.2009
Seth Padgett
Biography
SETH PADGETT – Doctor, top in his field. In his mid-20’s, smart,wise-ass, and very good at his craft. Has spent most of his time atRollins Hospital in Rhode Island.
Seth Padgett
Rollings Hospital, Rhode Island
12:01 PM
Time was a factor. A race against an invisible menace was
robbing Adrian of his life.
Adrian Blakely’s fading health was not what it used to be.
He was a genetic conglomeration of various ailments, several of
which impacted his overall stamina and endurance. Adrian relied
on a medical breakthrough, where a recently developed arm brace
controlled his balance right down to the cubic inch. His body was
slowly being devoured by a rare genetic disorder that robbed Adrian
of precious time and mobility. The Europa Agenda was to be his
lasting legacy.
He was now on a mission from an old friend.
The president personally asked Adrian to bring together a
collection of qualified individuals from their respective fields in
order to spearhead the president’s imminent mission to Europa in
the wake of Yellowstone’s eruption.
Adrian’s slow, deliberate shuffle down the finely waxed corridor
brought back memories of his war days, where a nasty fight with his
superior had landed him a dishonorable discharge and a lengthy stay
inside a mental hospital.
Adrian’s expensive black shoes clacked against the pristine
tiles, as a steady line of doctors and nurses segued their way past
his crumbling appearance. Their eyes told the story. Adrian’s rapid
decline was completely noticeable.
His eyes followed the perfectly laid tiles that had a name
emblazoned into them: Rollins Hospital. It had been at least a
decade since Adrian walked this foyer. Ten years since he personally
laid the first stubborn brick, riveted the first steel beam, and cut the
ceremonial red ribbon with a slick silver pair of scissors.
Using his abundant resources, Adrian Blakely built Rhode Island
a state of the art medical facility, equipped with the best doctors,
nurses, equipment, and tools. That was the primary reason why
Adrian stepped inside these walls once again.
He walked up to the receptionist desk and stared down at the
young woman sitting behind the marbled counter top.
“Can I help you?” Her voice was sweet and friendly.
“Dr. Seth Padgett, please.” Adrian cleared his throat.”I’m here
on business.”
“He’s in surgery right now,” she responded with a saccharine
like sweetness.
“I’m here on the business of the president of The United
States,” Adrian said in a firm tone.”You do know who the president
is?” He tapped his arm brace against the floor irritably, then scanned
over the woman’s name badge.”Got that, Karyn?”
The young woman obviously didn’t like Adrian’s tone and
definitely didn’t know who she was dealing with.”Listen, he’s busy
right now.”
“I don’t have time for this grade school bullshit,” Adrian
grumbled. He forced his free hand over the counter and confiscated
the intercom.
“Excuse me,” Karyn chirped back with a startled glaze in her
eyes.”You can’t do that.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. I can do it. I own this hospital.” Adrian
swiped the intercom and, with a blazing voice, ordered Dr. Seth
Padgett to the lobby area at once.
A few passing patients gapped at Adrian with raised eyebrows.
“What’s everyone leering at?” Adrian barked. The crowd
murmured quietly and gave him a wide berth.
Seth Padgett walked down the slick corridor, sidestepping the
yellow caution floor signs, his white jacket flapping against his lengthy
legs. Reaching the cream colored doors, he shoved them open and
stepped into the main lobby, taking notice the back of a bristling
Adrian Blakely at the receptionist’s desk.
Clearing his throat, Seth closed the distance between the two
men.”Adrian.” Seth wanted to smooth over this situation as quickly
as possible. He had a full schedule of surgeries lined up until the
dinner hour.
“Seth,” he grumbled, turning around to face the medical
prodigy.
Seth leaned in close to his old friend.”Please keep your voice
down,” he said sternly.
“I only raised it to get your attention.” Adrian pivoted on the
arm brace and tugged on Seth’s white jacket .”Come walk with me
outside in the courtyard.”
Seth gave into the billionaire’s request with a shrug.”A quick
jaunt is all I have time for, Adrian.”
“You have unsurpassed intelligence for someone who only
recently passed the age requirement for drinking.” Adrian smirked.
“And you have the charming traits of a rattlesnake, for someone
who has only recently entered the octogenarian period of life,” Seth
responded.
Seth Padgett used sarcasm whenever possible. The young doctor
had relied heavily on the tactic while he plowed his way through the
field, earning top honors at every turn. His short blond hair, dense
blue eyes, and athletic build brought the ladies to an immediate
standstill. Seth always felt Adrian was jealous of his overwhelming
prowess.
Seth cut right to the muscle of the conversation.”So, what’s with
the urgent visit, Adrian? You’ve never set a foot inside this building,
unless it was for your own personal agenda.”
“I’m here on presidential business.” Adrian reached into his vest
and withdrew a fattened Cuban cigar.
“No smoking.” Seth tapped him on the shoulder.”Can’t you read
the signs? Let alone be considerate for the patients and staff?”
“Outdoors? Can we take this conversation outdoors? My lungs
are aching for a crisp smoke.”
“It ruins your health, and inhibits your sex drive.”
“Well, we don’t want that, now do we?” Adrian stuffed the cigar
back into his vest pocket and limped down the cobblestone.
“How’s the leg? It seems to be getting better.”
“Wondrous, ever since your operation.”
“I aim to please.” Seth was becoming one of the rising doctors
in the Northeast. His quiet demeanor and friendly candor had
earned him many friends and loyalists throughout his short career.
He had also kept his finger on the pulse of the country’s politics,
environmental and social issues. He knew Forsythe wasn’t there to
compliment his surgical skills. “So, what’s up?
“As you know, we have a certain situation that’s brewing out
west.” Adrian took notice of the sun-drenched yard.
“That whole Yellowstone mumbo jumbo?
“Yeah, that would be the situation I’m chatting about. You know,
I really like whoever designed this courtyard.”
“You did.” Seth was beginning to dislike Adrian’s flagrant
sarcasm.
“Oh yeah.” Adrian cocked his head.”I did a great job.”
“Anyway, how can I help you?” Seth started to become agitated.
Adrian didn’t visit arbitrarily, only when he wanted something. Seth
had a knot in his stomach that was telling him this one was going to
be a hard one to swallow.
“President Forsythe wanted me to personally recruit you for a
unique mission.”
“Mission?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Me? The president wants me?” Seth tied his hands together in
an unpleasant pattern.
“I can’t delve into too much detail,” Adrian said.
“You can’t?” Seth looked puzzled.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a matter of national security. Are you in or out?”
“What are we picking here? Flag football teams?” Seth shot
back.”Listen, Adrian, I really don’t have time for these games of
yours. Are you taking the proper medication for your leg?”
“I’m fine. But I need an answer, and fast. It’s cause for great
concern if my team isn’t picked by midnight tonight.”
“Picked for what?”
Instead of answering, Adrian pulled in a long breath and scanned
the courtyard, leaving Seth to fold his arms in disgust.
“Fine, don’t tell me.” Seth tried to figure out what was going
on behind those calculating eyes, but was stymied, as always. “Is it
important?”
Adrian nodded once. “Would I ask you if it weren’t?”
Even though Seth’s first impulse was to tell him to go to hell,
he knew he wouldn’t. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and
scowled at him.
The two men reached the end of the cobblestone walkway.
“Let me know Seth,” Adrian said, handing him the small
business card.
Seth flipped over the black card and read the golden letters.
“Blakely Aeronautics?”
“Yes. If interested, be there at 7 P.M tomorrow night.”
Seth watched as Adrian Blakely whirled around and left him to
ponder the curious offer.
SETH PADGETT – Doctor, top in his field. In his mid-20’s, smart,wise-ass, and very good at his craft. Has spent most of his time atRollins Hospital in Rhode Island.
Seth Padgett
Rollings Hospital, Rhode Island
12:01 PM
Time was a factor. A race against an invisible menace was
robbing Adrian of his life.
Adrian Blakely’s fading health was not what it used to be.
He was a genetic conglomeration of various ailments, several of
which impacted his overall stamina and endurance. Adrian relied
on a medical breakthrough, where a recently developed arm brace
controlled his balance right down to the cubic inch. His body was
slowly being devoured by a rare genetic disorder that robbed Adrian
of precious time and mobility. The Europa Agenda was to be his
lasting legacy.
He was now on a mission from an old friend.
The president personally asked Adrian to bring together a
collection of qualified individuals from their respective fields in
order to spearhead the president’s imminent mission to Europa in
the wake of Yellowstone’s eruption.
Adrian’s slow, deliberate shuffle down the finely waxed corridor
brought back memories of his war days, where a nasty fight with his
superior had landed him a dishonorable discharge and a lengthy stay
inside a mental hospital.
Adrian’s expensive black shoes clacked against the pristine
tiles, as a steady line of doctors and nurses segued their way past
his crumbling appearance. Their eyes told the story. Adrian’s rapid
decline was completely noticeable.
His eyes followed the perfectly laid tiles that had a name
emblazoned into them: Rollins Hospital. It had been at least a
decade since Adrian walked this foyer. Ten years since he personally
laid the first stubborn brick, riveted the first steel beam, and cut the
ceremonial red ribbon with a slick silver pair of scissors.
Using his abundant resources, Adrian Blakely built Rhode Island
a state of the art medical facility, equipped with the best doctors,
nurses, equipment, and tools. That was the primary reason why
Adrian stepped inside these walls once again.
He walked up to the receptionist desk and stared down at the
young woman sitting behind the marbled counter top.
“Can I help you?” Her voice was sweet and friendly.
“Dr. Seth Padgett, please.” Adrian cleared his throat.”I’m here
on business.”
“He’s in surgery right now,” she responded with a saccharine
like sweetness.
“I’m here on the business of the president of The United
States,” Adrian said in a firm tone.”You do know who the president
is?” He tapped his arm brace against the floor irritably, then scanned
over the woman’s name badge.”Got that, Karyn?”
The young woman obviously didn’t like Adrian’s tone and
definitely didn’t know who she was dealing with.”Listen, he’s busy
right now.”
“I don’t have time for this grade school bullshit,” Adrian
grumbled. He forced his free hand over the counter and confiscated
the intercom.
“Excuse me,” Karyn chirped back with a startled glaze in her
eyes.”You can’t do that.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. I can do it. I own this hospital.” Adrian
swiped the intercom and, with a blazing voice, ordered Dr. Seth
Padgett to the lobby area at once.
A few passing patients gapped at Adrian with raised eyebrows.
“What’s everyone leering at?” Adrian barked. The crowd
murmured quietly and gave him a wide berth.
Seth Padgett walked down the slick corridor, sidestepping the
yellow caution floor signs, his white jacket flapping against his lengthy
legs. Reaching the cream colored doors, he shoved them open and
stepped into the main lobby, taking notice the back of a bristling
Adrian Blakely at the receptionist’s desk.
Clearing his throat, Seth closed the distance between the two
men.”Adrian.” Seth wanted to smooth over this situation as quickly
as possible. He had a full schedule of surgeries lined up until the
dinner hour.
“Seth,” he grumbled, turning around to face the medical
prodigy.
Seth leaned in close to his old friend.”Please keep your voice
down,” he said sternly.
“I only raised it to get your attention.” Adrian pivoted on the
arm brace and tugged on Seth’s white jacket .”Come walk with me
outside in the courtyard.”
Seth gave into the billionaire’s request with a shrug.”A quick
jaunt is all I have time for, Adrian.”
“You have unsurpassed intelligence for someone who only
recently passed the age requirement for drinking.” Adrian smirked.
“And you have the charming traits of a rattlesnake, for someone
who has only recently entered the octogenarian period of life,” Seth
responded.
Seth Padgett used sarcasm whenever possible. The young doctor
had relied heavily on the tactic while he plowed his way through the
field, earning top honors at every turn. His short blond hair, dense
blue eyes, and athletic build brought the ladies to an immediate
standstill. Seth always felt Adrian was jealous of his overwhelming
prowess.
Seth cut right to the muscle of the conversation.”So, what’s with
the urgent visit, Adrian? You’ve never set a foot inside this building,
unless it was for your own personal agenda.”
“I’m here on presidential business.” Adrian reached into his vest
and withdrew a fattened Cuban cigar.
“No smoking.” Seth tapped him on the shoulder.”Can’t you read
the signs? Let alone be considerate for the patients and staff?”
“Outdoors? Can we take this conversation outdoors? My lungs
are aching for a crisp smoke.”
“It ruins your health, and inhibits your sex drive.”
“Well, we don’t want that, now do we?” Adrian stuffed the cigar
back into his vest pocket and limped down the cobblestone.
“How’s the leg? It seems to be getting better.”
“Wondrous, ever since your operation.”
“I aim to please.” Seth was becoming one of the rising doctors
in the Northeast. His quiet demeanor and friendly candor had
earned him many friends and loyalists throughout his short career.
He had also kept his finger on the pulse of the country’s politics,
environmental and social issues. He knew Forsythe wasn’t there to
compliment his surgical skills. “So, what’s up?
“As you know, we have a certain situation that’s brewing out
west.” Adrian took notice of the sun-drenched yard.
“That whole Yellowstone mumbo jumbo?
“Yeah, that would be the situation I’m chatting about. You know,
I really like whoever designed this courtyard.”
“You did.” Seth was beginning to dislike Adrian’s flagrant
sarcasm.
“Oh yeah.” Adrian cocked his head.”I did a great job.”
“Anyway, how can I help you?” Seth started to become agitated.
Adrian didn’t visit arbitrarily, only when he wanted something. Seth
had a knot in his stomach that was telling him this one was going to
be a hard one to swallow.
“President Forsythe wanted me to personally recruit you for a
unique mission.”
“Mission?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Me? The president wants me?” Seth tied his hands together in
an unpleasant pattern.
“I can’t delve into too much detail,” Adrian said.
“You can’t?” Seth looked puzzled.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a matter of national security. Are you in or out?”
“What are we picking here? Flag football teams?” Seth shot
back.”Listen, Adrian, I really don’t have time for these games of
yours. Are you taking the proper medication for your leg?”
“I’m fine. But I need an answer, and fast. It’s cause for great
concern if my team isn’t picked by midnight tonight.”
“Picked for what?”
Instead of answering, Adrian pulled in a long breath and scanned
the courtyard, leaving Seth to fold his arms in disgust.
“Fine, don’t tell me.” Seth tried to figure out what was going
on behind those calculating eyes, but was stymied, as always. “Is it
important?”
Adrian nodded once. “Would I ask you if it weren’t?”
Even though Seth’s first impulse was to tell him to go to hell,
he knew he wouldn’t. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and
scowled at him.
The two men reached the end of the cobblestone walkway.
“Let me know Seth,” Adrian said, handing him the small
business card.
Seth flipped over the black card and read the golden letters.
“Blakely Aeronautics?”
“Yes. If interested, be there at 7 P.M tomorrow night.”
Seth watched as Adrian Blakely whirled around and left him to
ponder the curious offer.
3.05.2009
Angela Nestor
Biography-
Communications expert, early 20’s,
knowledgeable in communications. A bit on the shy side. Attends
West Point. Her father is a well-known Senator.
Angela Nestor
West Point, New York
1:15 PM
Working his tired body down the college corridor, Adrian
Blakely placed his hand on the large brown doors and pushed them
open. He scanned the large crowd of students. His orders were
simple: Find Angela Nestor. He walked across the stage and tapped
the talkative professor on the shoulder. Adrian thought he spotted
her, attempting to blend in with the crowd. Angela Nestor shifted
impatiently in her seat apparently trying to listen to the professor’s
lecture. . The professor’s droning voice started to weaken as it carried
across the vast auditorium, gliding over the student’s heads.
“Excuse me.” Adrian’s words rumbled over the stage.
The aged professor turned, startled, and looked at his unknown
guest.
“May I help you, sir?” Every word was drawn out with some
sort of angry denotation.
“I’m looking for someone,” Adrian responded. He turned back
and scanned the crowd once more trying to locate Miss Nestor.
“Who?” the professor’s voice was riddled with impatience.”And
who exactly are you, anyway?” His small eyes squinted through his
bi-focal glasses and sized up his gimpy intruder.
“I’m here on official business for the president,” Adrian said.
“Sure you are and I’m the Dalai Lama.”
“That’s funny. You look taller in the pictures.”Adrian’s voice
traveled through the microphone and over the captivated student
body. A muffed laugher spread across the room.
“Do you have proof?” the professor asked.
“Yes I do.” Adrian withdrew his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” The stunned professor watched Adrian
punch in a series of numbers.
Europa: Rise of the Carnelians 39
“When he answers, be short and sweet. Say Adrian Blakely is
here. He will tell you the rest.” Adrian handed over the small silver
phone.
Adrian impatiently waited for the professor to introduce him.
Mouth open, the professor took the phone and placed it to his
right ear as if it were covered in lice. Adrian heard the tinny voice of
a man’s voice over the air.
Adrian watched as the professor chatted with the president.
“Adrian Blakely is here.” The professor nodded as the president
chatted on the other end of the phone.
He returned the phone to Adrian and then cleared his throat.
“Will Angela Nestor, Franklin Lume, and Marsha Willows please
come to the podium,” he said to his students.
Adrian rocked back and forth, leaning on his arm brace for
support.
“Excellent.” Adrian watched the students as they swiftly
approached.”The three of you come with me please.” When they
arrived, he shuffled them across the stage and towards the exit
door.
Once Adrian led them out into the hallway, Angela stopped and
folded her arms.”Where are we going?”
Adrian turned his head to scan the beautiful young woman.”I
need to have a talk with you.” Adrian waved his hand at Franklin and
Marsha.”Please wait here while Miss Nestor and I have a chat.”
“Who are you?” Marsha asked without moving. Her bleached
blond hair kept wafting across her eyes. She pushed it aside every
time she moved her head from side to side.
“My name is Adrian Blakely, and I’m the wealthiest man in the
world.” That phrase never did seem to grow old.
“I did a report on your company for my economics class,”
Franklin said, sporting a pleased look.”I look up to you.”
“Nice. Now, please give me a few moments alone with Angela,”
Adrian casually responded, although he really had no plans for the
other two.
40 Jason Gehlert
“Where are we going?” Angela asked as she followed Adrian
across the hallway.
“President Forsythe has asked me personally to come and get
you for a special mission.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” Adrian’s snapped rolling his eyes.”He’s very
impressed with your commitment to the United States Armed Forces.
Your keen intelligence in the field of communications has led the
president to handpick you for this extremely important mission. A
mission that could save the Earth.”
“I’m intrigued.” Angela followed Adrian down the hallway.”So,
what’s the deal?”
“The deal is, meet me here tomorrow night at 7 P.M.,” Adrian
said as he handed her his business card. He let it rest between his left
forefinger and middle finger, waiting for Angela to make the move.
He watched her as she snapped up the black card with the gold
lettering. “Blakely Aeronautics?”
“That’s one of my many business fronts,” Adrian said.”Please,
don’t be tardy. I will be starting on time.”
Angela stared down shyly at the card and the color rose in her
cheeks.”I don’t know,” she said, but when she raised her head, all she
could hear was the clicking sound of the doors on the other side of
the hallway. Adrian was gone.
Communications expert, early 20’s,
knowledgeable in communications. A bit on the shy side. Attends
West Point. Her father is a well-known Senator.
Angela Nestor
West Point, New York
1:15 PM
Working his tired body down the college corridor, Adrian
Blakely placed his hand on the large brown doors and pushed them
open. He scanned the large crowd of students. His orders were
simple: Find Angela Nestor. He walked across the stage and tapped
the talkative professor on the shoulder. Adrian thought he spotted
her, attempting to blend in with the crowd. Angela Nestor shifted
impatiently in her seat apparently trying to listen to the professor’s
lecture. . The professor’s droning voice started to weaken as it carried
across the vast auditorium, gliding over the student’s heads.
“Excuse me.” Adrian’s words rumbled over the stage.
The aged professor turned, startled, and looked at his unknown
guest.
“May I help you, sir?” Every word was drawn out with some
sort of angry denotation.
“I’m looking for someone,” Adrian responded. He turned back
and scanned the crowd once more trying to locate Miss Nestor.
“Who?” the professor’s voice was riddled with impatience.”And
who exactly are you, anyway?” His small eyes squinted through his
bi-focal glasses and sized up his gimpy intruder.
“I’m here on official business for the president,” Adrian said.
“Sure you are and I’m the Dalai Lama.”
“That’s funny. You look taller in the pictures.”Adrian’s voice
traveled through the microphone and over the captivated student
body. A muffed laugher spread across the room.
“Do you have proof?” the professor asked.
“Yes I do.” Adrian withdrew his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” The stunned professor watched Adrian
punch in a series of numbers.
Europa: Rise of the Carnelians 39
“When he answers, be short and sweet. Say Adrian Blakely is
here. He will tell you the rest.” Adrian handed over the small silver
phone.
Adrian impatiently waited for the professor to introduce him.
Mouth open, the professor took the phone and placed it to his
right ear as if it were covered in lice. Adrian heard the tinny voice of
a man’s voice over the air.
Adrian watched as the professor chatted with the president.
“Adrian Blakely is here.” The professor nodded as the president
chatted on the other end of the phone.
He returned the phone to Adrian and then cleared his throat.
“Will Angela Nestor, Franklin Lume, and Marsha Willows please
come to the podium,” he said to his students.
Adrian rocked back and forth, leaning on his arm brace for
support.
“Excellent.” Adrian watched the students as they swiftly
approached.”The three of you come with me please.” When they
arrived, he shuffled them across the stage and towards the exit
door.
Once Adrian led them out into the hallway, Angela stopped and
folded her arms.”Where are we going?”
Adrian turned his head to scan the beautiful young woman.”I
need to have a talk with you.” Adrian waved his hand at Franklin and
Marsha.”Please wait here while Miss Nestor and I have a chat.”
“Who are you?” Marsha asked without moving. Her bleached
blond hair kept wafting across her eyes. She pushed it aside every
time she moved her head from side to side.
“My name is Adrian Blakely, and I’m the wealthiest man in the
world.” That phrase never did seem to grow old.
“I did a report on your company for my economics class,”
Franklin said, sporting a pleased look.”I look up to you.”
“Nice. Now, please give me a few moments alone with Angela,”
Adrian casually responded, although he really had no plans for the
other two.
40 Jason Gehlert
“Where are we going?” Angela asked as she followed Adrian
across the hallway.
“President Forsythe has asked me personally to come and get
you for a special mission.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” Adrian’s snapped rolling his eyes.”He’s very
impressed with your commitment to the United States Armed Forces.
Your keen intelligence in the field of communications has led the
president to handpick you for this extremely important mission. A
mission that could save the Earth.”
“I’m intrigued.” Angela followed Adrian down the hallway.”So,
what’s the deal?”
“The deal is, meet me here tomorrow night at 7 P.M.,” Adrian
said as he handed her his business card. He let it rest between his left
forefinger and middle finger, waiting for Angela to make the move.
He watched her as she snapped up the black card with the gold
lettering. “Blakely Aeronautics?”
“That’s one of my many business fronts,” Adrian said.”Please,
don’t be tardy. I will be starting on time.”
Angela stared down shyly at the card and the color rose in her
cheeks.”I don’t know,” she said, but when she raised her head, all she
could hear was the clicking sound of the doors on the other side of
the hallway. Adrian was gone.
2.24.2009
Cast of Characters
The schedule is posted below for each week, and the extracts from Europa can be found right here on my blog site, with facts about each character
Feb 23-Mar 1 Dr. Nolan Drake
Mar 2-8 Angela Nestor
Mar 9-15 Seth Padgett
Mar 16-22 Dr. Philene Fanchon
Mar 23-29 Ulysses Tarrant
Mar 30-Apr 18 [Vacation]
Apr 20-Apr 26 President Jackson Forsythe
Apr 27-May 3 Carnelians
May 4-May 10 Lieutenant Matthew Shaw
May 11-May 17 Gillian Shea
May 18-May 31 [Vacation]
June 1-June 7 Dwight "Bud" Stephens
June 8-June 14 Adrian Blakely
June 15-June 21 Commander Thaddeus Kaspar
June 22-July 7 Europa Contest
Feb 23-Mar 1 Dr. Nolan Drake
Mar 2-8 Angela Nestor
Mar 9-15 Seth Padgett
Mar 16-22 Dr. Philene Fanchon
Mar 23-29 Ulysses Tarrant
Mar 30-Apr 18 [Vacation]
Apr 20-Apr 26 President Jackson Forsythe
Apr 27-May 3 Carnelians
May 4-May 10 Lieutenant Matthew Shaw
May 11-May 17 Gillian Shea
May 18-May 31 [Vacation]
June 1-June 7 Dwight "Bud" Stephens
June 8-June 14 Adrian Blakely
June 15-June 21 Commander Thaddeus Kaspar
June 22-July 7 Europa Contest
Nolan Drake
Here's a sample extracted from my forthcoming sci-fi novel, Europa. Every week I will preview a certain character, this week belongs to scientist and volcano expert, Dr. Nolan Drake
Biography
45-year-old volcano expert, red hair, intelligent
scientist, at times roguish
Yellowstone National Park
Nolan Drake’s chopper was a crumpled heap, bars of steel bent around each other like a pretzel. The helicopter was tilted on her side, with Nolan stranded at the top in his seat, caught within the confines of his seat belt. The fire had started to engulf the entire chopper leaving Nolan Drake with little time for escape. The lava flow started its path towards the downed chopper, crawling along the ground fast.
Nolan’s seat belt gouged itself deep into his hips, slicing away at his skin, leaving a flap . His shirt was stained with blood, not all of it his. Carl had been decapitated, sending his blood across the windshield and Nolan’s body.
Nolan stared down at his lifeless friend with remorse. “Carl,” he whispered to his friend. “Timmy?” he muttered fidgeting with his belt. There was no answer.
Time was a factor, and if Nolan wanted to buy himself a chance at survival, now would be the time to make a break for it.
The remaining rescue vehicle was several yards away and he could make a dash for it. It was his only hope.
“Timmy?” Nolan called again.
When he managed to twist enough to see, Timmy’s body was a gnarled mess of broken bones and torn flesh. His eyes were glazed with fear, but he was alive.
“Nolan...” Timmy’s lips barely moved and blood spilled from the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his chin.
“Timmy, I'll get you out of this.” But he knew he couldn’t save his young apprentice.
“Go save yourself.” Timmy’s last words gave Nolan one last burst of energy.
Nolan freed himself, landing on top of Carl’s headless corpse. He could still feel the warmth of Carl’s skin as he climbed to the top of the helicopter. Fire roared into the cabin immediately engulfing the Carl and Timmy's bodies. There was nothing more he could do for them.
Wincing, Nolan leapt high into the air, just as the helicopter exploded behind him.
Nolan landed with a hard jolt on the hot soil. The sea of lava had reached the helicopter swelling over the metal like a swarm of hungry bees, swallowing the metal structure whole.
Nolan raced for the retreating vehicle, knowing he wouldn’t catch it in time. He looked at the devastation that had swallowed the national park. His only means of escape would take him across the Yellowstone River, which was within walking distance from his current location. Once across, he would enter Fishing Bridge Recreational Vehicle Park, where several camping units were stationed. Nolan's idea of finding an car, truck, or even a motorcycle, was his only chance at gaining an advantage on the lava flow.
Nolan changed direction and headed straight for the river. He stripped out of his protective gear to gain extra speed. He noticed his hands were bloody when he threw his helmet to the ground. His suit followed. Keeping only his boots, he took off, continually looking back to gauge how far the lava was behind him. Nolan stared death squarely in the face and gave it his all, but his injuries were slowing him down.
He could see the blue tint of the river's surface, and prepared to cross over the small bridge that hovered mere feet above the water. The lava flow whirled around, sending fiery embers hurtling through the summer air, igniting several trees over Nolan's head. The bridge's railings were metal, and connected to the wooden floorboards in a chain link pattern. Once on the bridge, Nolan's weight made some of the splitting boards creak. The lengthy bridge failed to deter him, as Nolan continued along, occasionally turning his head to see where the lava flow was.
Large sections of tree began to collapse, ablaze from high above, crashing into the river, spraying Nolan in hot water. Once the magma entered the shallow riverbed, Nolan knew it would swallow up the water evaporating it into steam, and continue on its way towards the eastern end of the park.
The lava entered the river and sent its fiery path to the bridge, igniting the pathway. Nolan kept his hands over his face, trying to shield himself from the scattering debris and hot steam rising from the water. His legs burned from the crash, he had layers of skin scraping against his pants, all the while attempting a run for the other side. Using his last surge of adrenaline, Nolan dove for the end of the bride as tree limbs continued to crack and collapse into the riverbed.
Making it by the skin of his teeth, Nolan turned and saw the magma pouring into the riverbed, indeed swallowing the water in its wake.
He was still several yards away from Fishing Bridge, and thoughts of Maureen kept running through his mind. Her courage proved to be Nolan's outlet for strength. His determination to see her one more time powered his weary legs to reach his planned destination.
A series of stranded cars were packed tightly together in the camping parking lot. Nolan's plan was unfinished; he hoped to find some dangling keys left in the ignition, or he could a take a chance at hot wiring the car.
The magma continued its slow roll through the riverbed, and now headed straight for Nolan.
Nolan looked up at the darkening skies that were filling with ash and uranium deposits. He knew time was extremely short. Peering into the assortment of vehicles, he couldn't find one set of keys. “How ironic,” he grumbled. “A volcanologist dies in magma stream.” He heard a roar from the skies, watching, praying, it was a rescue chopper.
A vintage 1982 Coachmen mobile home was parked quietly off in the corner of the lot. Striped with orange and earth brown, the massive vehicle gave Nolan an idea. The lava churned through the parking lot, eating away the tires and metal frames of the cars, sinking them into its river of death. He stared briefly at the license plate. It read : Rogersville, Tennessee, NYG 128. His fingers grabbed hold of the well maintained ladder on the back of the trailer, and began his ascent to the roof. Slowly, the lava surrounded the trailer, sinking its large tires into its river. Nolan felt a sharp jerk to the left, nearly throwing him off the ladder. The fear of death propelling him up the ladder, Nolan reached the white roof, which was pocked with smashed berries, bird shit, and small broken branches.
Nolan felt another twist of the motor home, and skidded across the roof. His fingers adroitly grabbed the side railings and prevented him from lurching any further.
“Shit.”
He was surrounded; there was no escape. Nolan stood up painfully and stared down the oncoming lava stream, watching it continue to splash around the trailer's tires, tilting the entire body of the vehicle closer to the ground.
An orange rescue chopper burst through the smoky cloud and hovered right above Nolan.
He looked up and breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”
He watched the pilot order his crew to lower a hoist with a red harness attached at the end.
“Hurry,” Nolan whispered, praying the rescue mission would be a success.
To Nolan's relief, the hoist spiraled down towards him. The motor spun wildly as the cable fell innocently to the shore below. Nolan, stretched, reaching for the careening harness, clasping it moments before it sailed past the side of the sinking trailer.
His fingers fumbling he finally slid the harness over his dirty, sweaty body, and clicked the golden clip in place securing him to the hoist.
The lava was now crumbling the trailer from underneath him, dragging him down. A series of magma bursts lurched into the air, landing on Nolan.
Screaming, Nolan gave the cable a sharp tug, and watched as the chopper started to bring him up. The harness sizzled underneath the fiery wisps of lava, and began to unravel one strand at a time.
Something wasn’t right. The cable wasn’t moving fast enough; the harness wasn't going to hold him any longer.
Inside the chopper, he could see sparks everywhere. The cable stalled in mid-air.
Nolan’s body dangled inches from the roof's decaying surface. The lava began to bear down on his lower body.“Pull him up! His harness is ripping!” the pilot commanded. “I have orders from the president that this man comes back in one piece!”
“We are trying! The cable’s stuck!”
The men looked down at Nolan as the lava splashed over his lower extremities.
“Hold on! We are not losing this man!” The pilot violently pulled up the helicopter with its lone survivor dangling below.
Nolan Drake closed his eyes and thought of a happy place. Hawaii. Mexico. The South Pole. When that didn’t work, Nolan thought of watching his Denver Broncos winning another Super Bowl with Maureen at his side.
Biography
45-year-old volcano expert, red hair, intelligent
scientist, at times roguish
Yellowstone National Park
Nolan Drake’s chopper was a crumpled heap, bars of steel bent around each other like a pretzel. The helicopter was tilted on her side, with Nolan stranded at the top in his seat, caught within the confines of his seat belt. The fire had started to engulf the entire chopper leaving Nolan Drake with little time for escape. The lava flow started its path towards the downed chopper, crawling along the ground fast.
Nolan’s seat belt gouged itself deep into his hips, slicing away at his skin, leaving a flap . His shirt was stained with blood, not all of it his. Carl had been decapitated, sending his blood across the windshield and Nolan’s body.
Nolan stared down at his lifeless friend with remorse. “Carl,” he whispered to his friend. “Timmy?” he muttered fidgeting with his belt. There was no answer.
Time was a factor, and if Nolan wanted to buy himself a chance at survival, now would be the time to make a break for it.
The remaining rescue vehicle was several yards away and he could make a dash for it. It was his only hope.
“Timmy?” Nolan called again.
When he managed to twist enough to see, Timmy’s body was a gnarled mess of broken bones and torn flesh. His eyes were glazed with fear, but he was alive.
“Nolan...” Timmy’s lips barely moved and blood spilled from the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his chin.
“Timmy, I'll get you out of this.” But he knew he couldn’t save his young apprentice.
“Go save yourself.” Timmy’s last words gave Nolan one last burst of energy.
Nolan freed himself, landing on top of Carl’s headless corpse. He could still feel the warmth of Carl’s skin as he climbed to the top of the helicopter. Fire roared into the cabin immediately engulfing the Carl and Timmy's bodies. There was nothing more he could do for them.
Wincing, Nolan leapt high into the air, just as the helicopter exploded behind him.
Nolan landed with a hard jolt on the hot soil. The sea of lava had reached the helicopter swelling over the metal like a swarm of hungry bees, swallowing the metal structure whole.
Nolan raced for the retreating vehicle, knowing he wouldn’t catch it in time. He looked at the devastation that had swallowed the national park. His only means of escape would take him across the Yellowstone River, which was within walking distance from his current location. Once across, he would enter Fishing Bridge Recreational Vehicle Park, where several camping units were stationed. Nolan's idea of finding an car, truck, or even a motorcycle, was his only chance at gaining an advantage on the lava flow.
Nolan changed direction and headed straight for the river. He stripped out of his protective gear to gain extra speed. He noticed his hands were bloody when he threw his helmet to the ground. His suit followed. Keeping only his boots, he took off, continually looking back to gauge how far the lava was behind him. Nolan stared death squarely in the face and gave it his all, but his injuries were slowing him down.
He could see the blue tint of the river's surface, and prepared to cross over the small bridge that hovered mere feet above the water. The lava flow whirled around, sending fiery embers hurtling through the summer air, igniting several trees over Nolan's head. The bridge's railings were metal, and connected to the wooden floorboards in a chain link pattern. Once on the bridge, Nolan's weight made some of the splitting boards creak. The lengthy bridge failed to deter him, as Nolan continued along, occasionally turning his head to see where the lava flow was.
Large sections of tree began to collapse, ablaze from high above, crashing into the river, spraying Nolan in hot water. Once the magma entered the shallow riverbed, Nolan knew it would swallow up the water evaporating it into steam, and continue on its way towards the eastern end of the park.
The lava entered the river and sent its fiery path to the bridge, igniting the pathway. Nolan kept his hands over his face, trying to shield himself from the scattering debris and hot steam rising from the water. His legs burned from the crash, he had layers of skin scraping against his pants, all the while attempting a run for the other side. Using his last surge of adrenaline, Nolan dove for the end of the bride as tree limbs continued to crack and collapse into the riverbed.
Making it by the skin of his teeth, Nolan turned and saw the magma pouring into the riverbed, indeed swallowing the water in its wake.
He was still several yards away from Fishing Bridge, and thoughts of Maureen kept running through his mind. Her courage proved to be Nolan's outlet for strength. His determination to see her one more time powered his weary legs to reach his planned destination.
A series of stranded cars were packed tightly together in the camping parking lot. Nolan's plan was unfinished; he hoped to find some dangling keys left in the ignition, or he could a take a chance at hot wiring the car.
The magma continued its slow roll through the riverbed, and now headed straight for Nolan.
Nolan looked up at the darkening skies that were filling with ash and uranium deposits. He knew time was extremely short. Peering into the assortment of vehicles, he couldn't find one set of keys. “How ironic,” he grumbled. “A volcanologist dies in magma stream.” He heard a roar from the skies, watching, praying, it was a rescue chopper.
A vintage 1982 Coachmen mobile home was parked quietly off in the corner of the lot. Striped with orange and earth brown, the massive vehicle gave Nolan an idea. The lava churned through the parking lot, eating away the tires and metal frames of the cars, sinking them into its river of death. He stared briefly at the license plate. It read : Rogersville, Tennessee, NYG 128. His fingers grabbed hold of the well maintained ladder on the back of the trailer, and began his ascent to the roof. Slowly, the lava surrounded the trailer, sinking its large tires into its river. Nolan felt a sharp jerk to the left, nearly throwing him off the ladder. The fear of death propelling him up the ladder, Nolan reached the white roof, which was pocked with smashed berries, bird shit, and small broken branches.
Nolan felt another twist of the motor home, and skidded across the roof. His fingers adroitly grabbed the side railings and prevented him from lurching any further.
“Shit.”
He was surrounded; there was no escape. Nolan stood up painfully and stared down the oncoming lava stream, watching it continue to splash around the trailer's tires, tilting the entire body of the vehicle closer to the ground.
An orange rescue chopper burst through the smoky cloud and hovered right above Nolan.
He looked up and breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”
He watched the pilot order his crew to lower a hoist with a red harness attached at the end.
“Hurry,” Nolan whispered, praying the rescue mission would be a success.
To Nolan's relief, the hoist spiraled down towards him. The motor spun wildly as the cable fell innocently to the shore below. Nolan, stretched, reaching for the careening harness, clasping it moments before it sailed past the side of the sinking trailer.
His fingers fumbling he finally slid the harness over his dirty, sweaty body, and clicked the golden clip in place securing him to the hoist.
The lava was now crumbling the trailer from underneath him, dragging him down. A series of magma bursts lurched into the air, landing on Nolan.
Screaming, Nolan gave the cable a sharp tug, and watched as the chopper started to bring him up. The harness sizzled underneath the fiery wisps of lava, and began to unravel one strand at a time.
Something wasn’t right. The cable wasn’t moving fast enough; the harness wasn't going to hold him any longer.
Inside the chopper, he could see sparks everywhere. The cable stalled in mid-air.
Nolan’s body dangled inches from the roof's decaying surface. The lava began to bear down on his lower body.“Pull him up! His harness is ripping!” the pilot commanded. “I have orders from the president that this man comes back in one piece!”
“We are trying! The cable’s stuck!”
The men looked down at Nolan as the lava splashed over his lower extremities.
“Hold on! We are not losing this man!” The pilot violently pulled up the helicopter with its lone survivor dangling below.
Nolan Drake closed his eyes and thought of a happy place. Hawaii. Mexico. The South Pole. When that didn’t work, Nolan thought of watching his Denver Broncos winning another Super Bowl with Maureen at his side.
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