Origins: Part One

ORIGINS

  PART ONE

  MILO ABRAMS

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Milo Abrams

  All rights reserved.

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

  For more information on Milo and his other books, visit www.miloabrams.com

  Day One

  1

  It started with a flash. The sky was a deep cerulean, nurturing a fire destined for the trees. A flicker, then a glow as the oxygen spilled in, leaving a cursive stream as it fell through the evening so intensely it would outshine every star on that side of the sky. Its origins were as shapeless as the silver whispers of smoke it left behind. Disappearing into the trees at the edge of Will McAllister’s property, he sat with his wife on their creaky front porch and watched the whole thing.

  Will was a forty-two-year-old man with the steadiness of a mountain. His skin had hardened into a callus shell from a successful life of failures. Rooted like the trees behind his property, he would need to be shaken to his core enough to alter his personal center of gravity to be knocked off balance.

  Ruby, on the other hand, wasn't so steady. She quickly threw her hands up over her eyes when the fireball reached peak brightness before disappearing into the trees. As the sky settled back into color, she looked at her husband with worrisome eyes.

  “What was that?” she asked, as if Will had any way of knowing.

  He simply shrugged. Glancing at her for only a moment, his eyes returned to the line of trees that stretched out endlessly behind the cornfield that filled the property behind their house.

  “Maybe we should call the police?” Ruby asked as she squirmed next to him on the swinging bench they were sitting on.

  “Maybe,” he said. “I'm sure other people saw it, even way out here.” He scratched the stubble on his chin and put his arm around her. He loved her more than anything.

  She cuddled into him, her anxiety already swallowing her up with the endless possibilities over what they saw. Was it a meteorite? Did something hit the moon and blow pieces off, causing a cascade of rocks to come showering down as if the sky were falling? Her eyes darted toward the darkening atmosphere as she waited in her husband’s nook for more fireballs to come raining down.

  Will noticed this and hugged her tightly. The desire within him to explore what the fireball might have been couldn't have been further from the anxiety that was eating Ruby up. To him, the possibility of seeing a meteorite, a burned-up weather balloon, or fallen satellite was exciting. Not only did it bring the possibility of a fresh and exciting break from their routine, but it could potentially be an opportunity to make some money. Will needed money if he was going to be able to keep their dreams of living on the farm alive, and avoid taking another manufacturing job back in Bugby.

  He looked at his wife and smiled. “Maybe we should go take a look?”

  Ruby’s eyes scanned the sky in search for more fiery rain, but saw none. The fireball was alone.

  “We could just call the police instead,” she insisted.

  Will puffed up his chest. “Nah. I'm sure we weren't the only ones to see that. They'll be out here soon enough. We should see if we can get a look before they take whatever it was away.”

  The nervousness in Ruby’s chest was buzzing like an agitated hive. She took her husband’s hand in earnest trust as he helped her off the swing. It was something she felt was better done by the police, but she trusted Will more than anyone. She nodded and then softly whispered, “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

  Will smiled as he pulled her down the porch like a kid who had just found a dead animal. She couldn't hold back a playful smile as he pulled on her arm and they picked up speed away from the house.

  Across from the house stood the old barn, a dilapidated relic of good old country charm. It was as old as the house, with poorly aged red paint that peeled off the wood in ghastly grayish strands, and a decaying metal roof. Just beyond that was the cornfield. Will had assimilated nearly every part of usable land behind the house for the cornfield. It stretched for acres to either side, acting as the second stage in the journey from the house to the woods.

  Rushing into the ocean of eight-foot corn stalks, Will’s heart raced. The already darkening sky created a poorly lit labyrinth which the couple plowed through with reckless abandon. Hand in hand, they ran like small children. They were racing not only the impending presence of the police, but also the setting sun. By the time they reached the end of the corn, the world had dimmed into a serene twilight.

  Ruby stopped short of the tree line into the woods, yanking Will backward.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked as he caught his breath.

  “It's awful dark,” she hesitated.

  Will looked into the trees and nodded. She had always been the cautious one.

  “Okay,” he said, “we won't go far. If we don't see anything within a couple minutes we'll just turn and head back, okay?”

  Ruby could feel the uneasiness swelling in her chest. “Okay,” she said, “but only a couple of minutes. You know I don't like the dark.”

  Will squeezed her hand harder. She always entertained his wild heart and crazy dreams, and he adored her for that.

  The stark contrast of deep greens and browns were refreshing compared to the washed-out gold of the field. Will had spent the last twenty years not only learning how to farm, but learning the woods. He knew of the steep drop off just a few hundred feet from the tree line that stretched for miles to the right, with a shallow and easy path up just to the left. He knew the way the creek twisted and turned throughout the trees, branching into hundreds of small streams that ran into the hills. He knew the paths the deer would take to avoid pitfalls, broken ankles, and being seen. He had lived nearly all his adult life wandering those woods with Ruby. They were a part of him.

  Veering off to the left, they followed a well-worn footpath created by the deer that led down a gentle slope deeper into the woods. To their right, the hill rose sharply like the face of a mountain buried beneath the dirt and brambles. They walked as slowly as Will’s excitement would allow them, keeping their eyes open for any sign of the glowing ball of fire deep within the trees. As they walked, a low rumble of thunder growled in the distance, sending a shiver up Ruby’s arm.

  “I don’t want to be out here in the dark and the rain, Will,” she pleaded.

  “Just a little further,” he pressed.

  For a while she quietly followed him. Around monstrous trees that twisted from the soil, bending in artistic curves in a desperate attempt to catch what little rays of sun they could from the sky. Her feet hurt as they climbed up and down hills. She hadn’t worn her sneakers, or anything even remotely suitable for hiking. Still in the slippers that she wore on the porch during the sunsets, she struggled not to fumble her steps as she kept up with her husband.

  “Will,” she pleaded as they crossed a series of mounds in the ground that looked like giant anthills, “we need to go back now. It’s getting too dark and my feet hurt. I’m going to completely ruin my slippers.”

  He stopped and scanned the darkening brush for any sign of foreign light. The raindrops pelted the leaves and his forehead as the weather began to turn with the end of day. All he saw were trees. Nothing but trees. He turned to see his lovely wife shivering between anger and anxiety and gave in.


  “You’re right,” he said grabbing both of her hands gently, “I’m sorry. We’re not going to see anything tonight. We’ll hurry back now, and we’ll be back on the porch by dark.”

  The fireball hadn’t left his mind, and it hadn’t left Ruby’s either.

  “Well, we can look tomorrow,” she compromised, “I’m sure that if someone else saw it we’ll hear something about it. Maybe it’ll be on the news.”

  Will smiled.

  In all his excitement, he had underestimated the distance they had traveled. He might’ve been able to navigate the woods in the dark, but Ruby couldn’t. The gravity of the mistake he had made dragging them so far into the woods so close to sunset began to weigh on him as he watched the shadows from the trees disappear, and the sky above them begin to blend in with the branches. Ruby’s hand was sweating in his. He knew exactly where they were, and just about how long it would take them to get back to the house. The sun was setting faster than Will could comfortably lead Ruby along in her slippers, and he knew for sure that they wouldn’t make it back before dark. But he couldn’t tell her that.

  As they walked faster and faster, her grip on his hand increased. Had he been able to see his hands more clearly, he would’ve seen how white her fingertips had become from the pressure, leaving blushed red marks and deep indentations into his hand. She watched the night come, but she was too afraid to call Will out