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Consequence




  Visit www.crlangille.com to follow my ramblings and current news.

  Other stories by C.R. Langille

  The Dark Tyrant Series:

  Canyon Shadows

  Consequence

  Alpha Protocol (coming soon)

  Collections:

  Tales from the Storm Vol 1: A Collection of Horror Stories

  Short Stories:

  Horishi Tom

  All Aboard

  Brine and Blood

  The Spot

  Young Reader:

  Terrence and the Magical Sword of Courage

  Terrence and the Dust Bunny Gang of Buzzard’s Gulch (Coming Soon)

  Consequence

  Book Two

  Dark Tyrant Series

  by C.R. Langille

  Consequence is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Griffin Publishers, LLC.

  Griffin Publishers and the Griffin colophon are registered trademarks of Griffin Publishers, LLC.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016939511 | ISBN 978-0-9971970-1-3 (paperback) | ISBN 978-0-9971970-2-0 (ebook)

  Printed in the United States of America

  www.griffinpublishers.com

  Dedication

  For my wife who continued to encourage me through it all, and for my mom who fostered my dream of writing from a young age.

  Acknowledgements

  Writing may seem like a solo act, but really, there are a lot of people involved. Therefore, I’d like to thank my Seton Hill University writing mentors, Scott Johnson and Tim Waggoner. Without their guiding influence, this book wouldn’t be what it is today. I’d also like to thank my Seton Hill critique partners: David Wilbanks, Paul Naughton, Darren Cook, Chris Shearer, Patricia Lillie, Jeremy Rackauckas, and Daniel Godard (Jeremy and Dan, we’ll always be the CoDanJers). Also a big thanks to Griffin Publishers for helping me find a new home for the Dark Tyrant Series (perhaps the Dark Tyrant himself will let you live a minute or two longer).

  Chapter One

  Darkness smothered Tobias Evard Warner II. The kind of eternal void that made outer space look like a sardine can. Wasn’t there supposed to be a bright light at the end of the tunnel? Where were the dead family members waiting to usher him to the other side?

  So far, dying was a bunch of bullshit.

  Perhaps heaven wasn’t his final destination though. He lived his life the best he could, at least until the last 24 hours. Toby wasn’t proud of some of the things he’d done. The murder of poor Donna sat at the top of the list. But, he’d done everything to get home. His wife and son needed him. Their rescue was more than worth Donna’s sacrifice.

  They were bold words, the kind of words that lost their oomph when it came time to pay the piper. For all he knew, his family could be in the next room, and it wouldn’t matter. He couldn’t see, nor could he move. Toby would give everything to know if they were okay. His family mattered the most. Yet, there was nothing but darkness.

  With the dark came the cold. It started in the tips of his fingers and crawled up his arms. It wasn’t just a freezing cold—the kind deep winter in the mountains produced—it was something else. As if his very essence disappeared under an oppressive blanket of black.

  The numbing chill slithered into his core. The simple act of drawing breath became a chore. The beat of his heart thundered in his ears and slowed with the function of his lungs.

  You reap what you sow, Tobias.

  He was about to harvest the seeds of his actions. As his lungs stopped, and the last echo of his heartbeat reverberated through his ears, her voice entered his mind. He hated her, loved her, and feared her. She brought salvation through damnation.

  Open up and accept me, Love. That simple.

  ***

  Earlier…

  Toby rechecked the tie-downs on the tarp. All of his camping gear was ready to go and covered in case the rain decided to fall again. Sebastian stood close to him; the boy’s head just crested Toby’s waist.

  “You take care of your mom, okay?”

  He knelt down to look Sebastian eye-to-eye, man-to-man.

  Sebastian looked at Toby for a moment. The boy’s lip quivered and then he shied away. He took after his father and didn’t like to show emotion.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be home in a few days, and next year you can come with me. I promise.”

  Toby tousled Sebastian’s hair and stood. The boy moved away and stuck his bottom lip out.

  “If you keep your lip stuck out, a robin will come lay an egg in it.”

  It was something Toby’s father used to say to him. He hoped he wasn’t going to end up like his old man.

  “But why can’t I go with you this time? I’ll be quiet, I swear. I won’t scare away any elks or nothing.”

  Moisture gathered at the edges of Sebastian’s eyes. Toby hated to leave, but the hunting trip was a tradition with his friends, and they’d planned it three months ago.

  “I wish I could take you, I really do, but this is a trip for daddy and his friends. Maybe next time, buddy.”

  Toby grabbed his son and gave him a big hug. He shot a glance to Linda. She leaned against the front door, wrapped in a white shawl with her arms folded across her chest. She nodded and gave him a supportive smile.

  “I’ll be home soon. Plus, you have to help your mom.”

  “Help her with what?” Sebastian asked in a muffled voice, his face still buried in Toby’s chest.

  “You have to help keep me company kiddo. You’re not the only one who’s going to miss your dad,” Linda said.

  Sebastian wiped the tears away and walked back into the house. Linda gave the boy a quick hug as he shuffled past.

  Grey clouds hovered overhead and signaled it was time to hit the road. Yet, the warning came too late, and the temperature dropped. Rain sprinkled down onto his bald head.

  Damn.

  He walked over to his wife.

  “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay,” Linda said.

  She placed both of her hands onto Toby’s cheeks. He closed his eyes and reveled in the embrace.

  “Yeah, I know,” Toby said. He looked away from her. “I should have included him this time, but the guys wouldn’t have understood.”

  “Next time,” Linda said. “Are Chuck and Dave going?”

  “Yes.”

  He hesitated, his mouth open.

  “What is it?”

  Toby looked Linda in the eyes. “Brock’s coming too.”

  Linda looked away. The memories flooded back and threatened to break the levees.

  “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.

  “I’ll be fine. I just wanted you to know he would be there.”

  She took a deep breath but still avoided Toby’s eyes.

  “Toby… I—”

  He couldn’t take another apology from her on the subject. Toby grabbed her by the shoulder and arm and dipped her toward the ground. She let out a small squeak of excitement, and he planted a kiss on her lips. Sebastian giggled from the living room.

  Toby pulled her up into a strong embrace and kissed her again.

  “I know,” Toby said.

  “You better watch out mister, or you’re going to be late.”

  Her pupils dilated, and a patch of scarlet blossomed on her chest. He smiled and w
inked.

  “I’m already late as it is. Gotta go. But keep that thought fresh, and we’ll make good on it when I get back,” Toby said.

  He opened the door to the truck and turned back to Linda. She looked so beautiful the way she looked at him.

  “I love you guys,” Toby said and climbed into the truck.

  “Stay safe. I love you,” Linda said and waved.

  Toby sent a text to Chuck to let him know he was on his way. He fired the truck up and hit the road just as the rainclouds decided to spew their guts.

  He drove most of the way to their traditional meeting spot in silence. The drone of the road did little to take his mind off of Sebastian. Next year for sure, he would take him hunting. The guys could deal with it or not; Toby didn’t give a shit. He switched the radio on.

  “Authorities are still searching the collapsed Anasazi ruins in Canyon Shadows, Utah. The small town of Canyon Shadows fell victim to a massacre, which took the lives…”

  It was more crap on Canyon Shadows. He was sick of hearing about it. It got more coverage than election season. Toby changed stations and drowned the news away with some Black Sabbath.

  He pulled off the interstate and found his friends in the Arby’s parking lot. Chuck and Dave stood next to Chuck’s large blue Dodge Ram. Toby drove up next to them, rolled down his window, and screamed along with Ozzy.

  They laughed and joined in, and for a moment, Toby’s problems disappeared.

  Toby killed the engine and got out. The aroma of roasted beef floated on stale air and mixed with the cloud of car exhaust. The sun reflected off the parking lot, and the heat of the day punched him in the face. It was unusually hot for the season, which meant the leaves would probably still be on the trees and would make the hunt difficult.

  Chuck Thompson sauntered up to him first. The big man clasped his hand and pulled him in for a “man hug” that consisted of a shoulder bump followed by several thudding blows to the back. Toby returned the embrace as best he could.

  Toby was a big guy at 6’ 2” and 210 pounds, but Chuck had him by at least another four inches and a good 20 pounds. Chuck’s wild blonde hair and goatee got him compared to a Viking numerous times. If it weren’t for his unnaturally high-pitched voice, he would have completely fit the picture.

  “About fucking time, Toby Dick,” Chuck said.

  Toby gave Chuck the finger, which only elicited laughter.

  “No shit, did you get lost?” Dave asked.

  Dave wasn’t overly short, but average looked short when compared to the Viking. The group gave him a lot of shit about his stature, but he took it in stride.

  Chuck looked past Toby, and the mirth on the big man’s face melted under the afternoon sun. Toby followed his gaze and found the source of the big man’s discontent. Chuck gave Toby’s shoulder a squeeze.

  Brock walked out of the nearby restroom, finished a beer, and threw the empty can in the bed of Chuck’s truck. Toby tensed for a moment, and his cheeks went hot. He concentrated on keeping his hands from clenching into fists. For a split second, all he wanted to do was take the sonofabitch to the ground and beat the smirk off his damned face.

  Brock strolled up and clapped Toby on the other shoulder and let out a belch. The smell of stale beer and bad meat washed over Toby. He turned away and gagged while Chuck joined Dave next to the truck.

  “Jesus, Brock, isn’t it a little early for that shit?” Toby asked as his eyes watered.

  “Whatever, we’re on vacation, man. Quit being such a pussy,” Brock said. He flipped open a blue cooler in the back of Chuck’s truck and grabbed another beer. Brock popped the top of the can with a deft movement of his fingers that would have impressed most magicians. He tilted his head back and let gravity pour the liquid down his throat.

  Toby rolled his eyes. Brock Kingston did what Brock Kingston wanted to do. The man acted the same since Toby met him six years ago at a rendezvous in Fort Bridger. It only worsened after Brock’s wife left him. The muscles in Toby’s jaw tightened and twitched.

  Before he could say anything, Chuck stepped back into the circle of tension.

  “Well, at least the rain finally let up,” Chuck said.

  “Let’s hope it stays that way,” Dave said.

  “Let’s get what we need and hit the road. We can be in Argyle Canyon in a couple hours, maybe even do a little scouting tonight,” Toby said.

  “Fucking A’, Cotton! We’re burning daylight,” Chuck said.

  Brock let out another belch and threw the empty beer can on the ground before he climbed into Chuck’s vehicle. Toby knelt down and picked it up. It was going to be a long weekend.

  ***

  Toby readied his rifle. He had worked hard the last hour to call the elk in while his friends tried other spots on the mountain. The crash and crack of tree limbs told him all he needed to know.

  Toby would only get one shot. It was muzzleloader season, and even though he was fast on the reload, the elk wouldn’t give him another chance.

  “Hey, Toby Dick, get ready,” Chuck said.

  The big man’s voice carried through the radio and into the ear bud. Toby didn’t reply. If he talked or made any noise at all, the bull would spook.

  Chuck was on a nearby ridge. It put him far enough away to see everything and report in with Toby. Dave and Brock were in another part of the area involved with their own hunt.

  The sky overhead blushed with the morning sunrise as the bull stepped out into the clearing. It wasn’t the biggest he’d ever seen, and few of its tines were broken, but Toby never passed up on a legal kill. He wasn’t a trophy hunter; he hunted to provide.

  Toby steadied his breathing and waited for the exact right moment to exhale. His shot presented itself, so he exhaled half of his breath and squeezed the trigger.

  Snap.

  The elk stopped mid-stride and looked right at him. The percussion cap went off, but it didn’t ignite the powder in the gun.

  Toby kept the rifle steady for a moment and waited to see if it would go off. He hoped it was a hang-fire and not a misfire.

  Nothing. The elk took the opportunity and sprinted off toward the trees.

  “Fuck!”

  He put another percussion cap on and brought the rifle up once again. The elk sprinted farther away, more than two hundred yards. Toby tried anyway and squeezed the trigger once more. The gun kicked and sent a large plume of smoke shooting from the end of the barrel. A small mote of dust kicked up about a hundred feet away from animal. He’d missed.

  Another shot echoed from Chuck’s side, but the elk kept moving. Toby growled and watched it disappear into the trees.

  He started to reload the gun but stopped mid-action when the sky darkened. Toby knew the weather could change in a blink of an eye in the mountains, but this was something else. His heart pounded as the sky grumbled. A slight quiver started in Toby’s hands, and he dropped the lead round-ball he was about to load.

  The sun’s light disappeared in an instant, and the valley fell under shadow. Dark clouds rolled and grumbled above him.

  The purple and black clouds swirled and twisted overhead. The wind picked up and blew dead branches and leaves all around him. Within moments, the sky spewed chilling rain.

  “Toby, w— cov—!” Chuck said.

  The transmission crackled, and the wind blew so loud Toby couldn’t hear anything else.

  Coarse hairs on his arms and neck stood at attention moments before lightning crashed nearby and split a tree. The boom and crack of the tree caused his ears to ring and flung him to the ground. Its flash turned Toby’s world white. The smell of ozone flooded the air, and his muscles twitched and convulsed involuntarily for a few moments. He gripped his gun and stood up on shaky legs. Toby stumbled a few steps before a rock caught his foot and he face-planted into the dirt. Fire lanced through his skull.

&
nbsp; Toby rolled to his back and groaned. His vision returned, but his ears continued to ring. Clouds swirled overhead in a tight circular pattern. Dust flew into his face and made it hard to see through anything but almost closed eyes. He touched his forehead, and his fingers came away covered in blood.

  The wind increased in speed and uprooted a massive pine. As it fell, it took large chunks of earth with it. When it crashed down, it sounded like a bus slammed into a brick wall. The hairs on the back of his neck danced again as a bolt of lightning smashed into another tree close by.

  He rolled onto to his hands and knees. The world spun and made it difficult for him to focus on anything. Toby only made it two steps before he fell back to the ground and retched. He looked back into the sky, and his heart dropped into his now empty stomach.

  A tornado of lightning arced to the earth. The electric cyclone touched down in the draw, and Toby watched, awestruck, as it tore through the trees and set the small grove ablaze. The twister roared and blared out all other sound. He needed to get away, or it would tear him to shreds.

  His Air Force survival training didn’t prepare him for this, but he didn’t need specialized training to know to run.

  Toby tried to walk again, and the world spun. As he took a step, the world turned the other way, and his legs tangled on one another. He fell to the ground again. The tornado inched closer and closer until the electricity in the air crackled.

  Through the clamor, he could only think of his wife and son. He would never see them again.

  Looks like Daddy isn’t coming home. Maybe next time, buddy.

  Toby growled and tried to move, but his limbs gave out and the darkness took him.

  ***

  Toby woke to Dave screaming in his ear. He sat up and looked around. His friend wasn’t there, just felled trees and torn landscape. The mountain was quiet, like it waited for a signal to return to normal.

  “Dave?” Toby called.

  His voice rasped out dry and parched. He waited a moment for a response, but none came. Toby stood, and the muscles in his body screamed at him for action. It took much longer and more energy than he thought just to stand. He tried to stretch, but it caused spasms to run down his back.