Shirley never finished her sentence.
The window just to the right of us exploded inwards. Splinters of glass flew towards us like tiny missiles. No time to move, we instinctively covered our heads with our hands and ducked. I felt tiny shards of glass hitting the back of my right hand, which was closest to the window. It only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed much longer. When I felt safe again I sat up Shirley’s head was on the table, she wasn’t moving.
The kitchen door burst open and Gay appeared. “Don’t move, I’ll call the medic’s.” Monica was right behind her, she looked at me “You okay?” she asked. “Yes, Shirley, are you alright?” Shirley lifted her head slowly, no blood on her face, her hands and hair had protected her head, but there was red mark on her forehead. She must have hit her head on the table.
She looked groggy. Her eyes wouldn’t focus!
I’ve been reading Stephen King as long as I can remember. From his very first story to his very last, and enjoyed ever single one. His last book, The Outsider, may have been my favorite. I say that and then I remember the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, and Dr. Sleep. Oh and then there are his novellas. His writing changed to suit the era, but I was drawn into every single book. When I read Stephen King I don’t open a book, I reconnect with old friends.
Why am I telling you this? Because I’ve been quiet for a while! My brain has been active though, and now, its ready to go. I’m writing for 1984, the era, the style, the times. My Dead of July sequel is progressing. You can’t rush, or force a good story. It needs to flow naturally. I want my readers to put it down, take a deep breath and think about me. I’m not Stephen King, I’m Sandra Thompson, but I want folks to remember what I’ve written, from Dead of July to….wherever it ends.
Stephen King, you had me at Carrie!
“Who’s there?” I asked again.
Whispers in the darkness! Distorted shadows moved past the end of the bed and deepened in the corner of the room.
Les sat up sleepily. “What’s going on? Are you having one of your dreams?”
I sometimes had dreams that turned out to be premonitions, Les was used to them, but they were unpredictable.
“No, someone touched me!”
I was wide awake.
Glancing back at my car, I expected to see Viktor sitting in the passenger seat, an evil grin on his face, but there was nothing there. What I’d heard was most likely the ticking of the engine cooling down. Alfa Romeos ran hot, just like the Italians, and I drove it hard. There was nothing to see, but I felt a sudden chill, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Come on, let’s get you inside, you’re shaking. You need a hot, sweet cup of tea.”
I barely heard Shirley’s words, but allowed her to lead me up the stairs to our office.
Yes, I’m writing again. This is the follow-up to Dead of July which I published back in 2013. You can only write when the time is right!!!
You know when you wake up and something’s just not right? Was it a nightmare? It felt way too real!
Jess woke up with a start. disoriented! His mind was foggy! Sunlight streamed though the crack in the curtains.
Where am I?
“Jess, Jess, wake up!”
“What? Where am I?”
The door opened a smidge and Ralph’s face appeared.
“What do you mean “where am I?” you’re in bed,” and its way too late to be sleeping. I’ve packed food and pop, we’re going for a walk remember.”
Jess swung his legs out of bed, but didn’t stand up right away.
“I had a nightmare! It seemed so real. I was scared.”
“C’mon, let’s go, we all have nightmares. I’ll wait for you downstairs, your mom just went to work. She said make sure to lock the front door on your way out and leave the key under the kennel.”
It was too real to be a nightmare!
Jess washed and dressed quickly and then joined his new friend downstairs. It was his second week in Colorado, they’d moved there with his dad’s job. Funny really as his dad was still in London, selling their house. His mum had managed to get a transfer with her company, so the move was smooth. Jess had the summer off to explore before he started school. Ralph, his new friend was cool, and fun, reminded him of one of the characters in the movie Goonies. Everyone he’s met in Colorado reminded him of a movie character. It was the Hollywood effect. Jess locked his door on the way out, and put the key under the kennel. One day, they may even get a dog to occupy it, and guard the key.
“Where are we going today Ralph?”
“I’m going to take you along the old railway line, show you some of the old Gold Mines. They’re haunted, I hope you’re not a cry baby.”
“Cool, as long as we don’t have to go in any tunnels, I don’t like tunnels!”
“Hey Man, no more climbing, let’s go through the tunnel”
“I don’t like tunnels?”
“We’ll run all of the way, won’t take us more than five minutes.”
“I don’t like tunnels!”
“If we climb the hill It’ll take us all day, and it doesn’t look safe, come on.”
Ralph headsed to the entrance and began to jog, not easy for him, he hated exercise. Jess followed reluctantly.
“Wait for me, don’t leave me alone, I really don’t like tunnels.”
Ralph soon slowed to a fast walk, jogging tired him quickly.
“C’mon Ralph, I don’t like it in here!”
Ralph picked up the pace and walked a little faster, but couldn’t jog.
“I’m coming, hold up.”
Jess waited for him.
“We’re not getting any closer to the other end, we should go back, I don’t like this.”
Ralph turned, “We’ve come a long way, we’re exactly in the middle, look”
Jess turned around, they were indeed an equal distance from either side. They kept going, focusing on the light ahead of them, the light that never got any closer. The light that seemed to get smaller.
“Ralph, I’m scared.”
His friend Ralph didn’t answer, Jess turned around.
“Come on, let’s go back.”
Ralph was gone!
Dead Of July
Ghosts on the Sand and other Chilling Tales
I do love to write! Ghosts on the Sand, my latest book, is available on Amazon. It’s a compilation of short stories. The sequel to my first novel “Dead of July” will be available at the end of this year. Its called Lingering Evil, watch out for it.
Viktor is back from Hell and full or rage. He is looking for revenge in the worst possible way.
Evil Lingers in the shadows! The sequel of Dead of July is underway!
My car stopped at a precarious angle. I daren’t move! Had I slid towards the canal? I couldn’t tell. All I could see from the driver’s side window was snow, deep thick snow. The passenger side widow looked up towards the sky, soon to be covered with thick snowflakes. My only escape was through that window, but if I moved my car would surely slide into the cold water that could be inches away. My engine had stalled and bitter cold seeped into the car, freezing my breath as it hung in the air.
Movement, the car shuddered. I braced myself for action. Not sure what I’d have to do to fight for my life, but I was ready!
What happened next defied gravity. The car move slowly and gently, but not down the hill as it should, instead it glided up towards the road again, almost floating! I sat still as it leveled out, waiting for someone from a tow truck to come and tap on my window, but no one appeared. Putting my hand on the door handle, I made to get out and thank whoever had saved me, but before I had chance the car moved forward. How could that be?
Straining my eyes I saw a light ahead, muffled by the snow, but still a warm glow. For a split second it brought me comfort, and then I worried what it was.
Did I die?
The snow started about an hour before I left town. The weatherman said “flurries” so I didn’t give it a second thought. Thirty minutes into my journey I couldn’t see. My headlights were packed with snow. It came down hard and fast.
Unfamiliar roads, no hedgerows, flat open country. I knew from my trip to Thetford a canal ran along by the road. It was pretty in the sunlight, boats gliding along its glassy surface, but I couldn’t remember which side. In the flat white landscape that surrounded me, I couldn’t see. I was terrified I’d slide into the icy waters.
My head ached with concentration! I skidded! My heart missed a beat! I straightened up. My little yellow car was the only vehicle on the road. If anything happened, if I got into an accident, I’d freeze to death. Or maybe I’d drown in the icy waters of the canal. Inching along at ten miles an hour, tears streaming down my face, I prayed.
Please God get me home for Christmas.
Don’t let me die.
Sliding slowly sideways. Out of control. What shall I do? Oh dear god what shall I do?