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  Pulse of Heroes

  A. Jacob Sweeny

  Copyright 2010 by A. Jacob Sweeny

  Published by Thalamus Press at Smashwords

  Print Edition released October 2010 – the Virgin Version

  Cover Design: Christopher Cummings

  Photo: Todd D’Amario

  All rights reserved. All characters (excepting those of a historical nature) are wholly fictitious and are the exclusive property of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No portion of this book may be reproduced, copied, distributed or shared in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without express written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ISBN 978-1-4661-3210-8

  www.ThalamusPress.com

  To my Mother

  “And he said to him, “I have begotten a strange son, whose form and type are not like the type of a man. His color is whiter than snow, and redder than the flower of the rose, and the hair of his head is whiter than white wool. And his face is glorious and his eyes are beautiful like the rays of the Sun, and when he opened them he illuminated the whole house.

  And it seems to me that he is not sprung from me but from the Angels, and I am afraid that something extraordinary may be done on the earth in his days.”

  —Book of Enoch, 106:5-6

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  She couldn’t believe how disgusting the stuff was now that it was cold. When she had first started, she wasn’t sure about sticking her hands in it, but once she took the plunge she actually enjoyed the warm sticky goop running between her fingers and up her forearms. It was like overcooked oatmeal or tapioca pudding, and she took pleasure in kneading it and feeling the curds seep in between her clenched fists. But it was late now, and it stank, and she wished she were done. She felt the dry paste everywhere, from her forehead to her chin, and even in the lines of her neck, crusting like peeling skin after a severe sunburn. She didn’t want to touch her hair, but she was sure that it too was covered in sticky clumps. She needed a shower.

  Michelle scrubbed herself under the hot steamy water, watching her skin turn a bright shade of fuchsia. She shampooed her hair twice, until she was satisfied that there was no papier-mâché residue stuck to any unruly strands. Once she felt clean, she relaxed, head forward, letting the water stream down her neck and shoulders. Michelle reflected that this project with its insipid adhesive was like a manifestation of her life; pathetically late, unbearably slow, and mostly bland with a few snippets of Weekly Highlights. She wasn’t sure if it was plain tiredness that planted her in this current mood of dissatisfaction, or whether it was the fragment of depressing editorial she had read about the new private school while shredding the last of the newspapers into the plastic bowl. But whatever the reason, she was worn-out and sick of feeling this way. She just wished something would change.

  It was the night before Halloween, and sixteen–year–old Michelle Andrews was franticly slaving over her Queen Nefertiti costume. She had originally planned to go as Cleopatra, but then remembered seeing a reproduction of the famous Nefertiti bust in a museum while on a class field trip and decided that Nefertiti never got enough face-time, so she was going to help make that happen. If she hadn’t been so stressed out she might have actually enjoyed doing this little crafty project, but unfortunately she had put it off until the last moment and, just like her mother had warned her, it was taking much longer than expected. There was so much more to do, and it was nearly 10:00 PM by the time she emerged from the shower. When her mother walked past her room to say goodnight she saw a pajama-clad Michelle blow-drying the paint on her almost perfect replica of the queen’s famous blue crown. She looked at her half-asleep daughter, then at the clock, and decided to give her a hand with the rest of the costume. Both mother and daughter spent hours sitting on the floor sewing and gluing; it felt like old times.

  Hallows Eve was Michelle’s favorite, as far as evenings went. It was a couple of hours before nightfall and the excitement was settling over the town like a humming buzz. The smell of pumpkin spice, the crunchy leaves blowing on the ground, and the first few chimneys spitting out smoke into the sky. It felt like magic every year and it didn’t matter how old she got. Her father came home early so he could help with the pumpkin carvings and her mother was busy putting the finishing touches on the scary decorations outside. Upstairs in her bedroom, Michelle stood in front of the mirror looking at her reflection as objectively as possible. Would she pass for a real queen? Michelle turned around to look at her backside, hoping it didn’t appear too big because she always gained a few extra pounds in the colder months, and especially this year because she wasn’t dancing like she had done in the past. Michelle, like all her girlfriends, was afraid that she might lose one too many battles to the bulge. Her extras always showed on her lower half, and she hated that. It made no difference that her great aunt had told her that men like women with hips and thighs. She still couldn’t see any redeeming qualities to what she considered her genetic flaws. It might not have mattered in some old-world Hungarian culture, but in the US it was B A D spelled with all capitals. At least her gown was long enough to cover up her imaginary faults.

  The sun made its way westwards and disappeared behind the mountains. The youngest of the trick-or-treaters were marching up and down the streets with the watchful eyes of their parents only a few steps behind. There were many princesses and armies of stormtroopers, while the youngest ones were in fuzzy costumes of bees, ladybugs and dinosaurs. They all looked so cute, Michelle thought, smiling from her upstairs window. Yet she still anxiously awaited the familiar and unmistaken reverberations of Sam’s VW bug engine. Michelle looked at her cell phone to check the time, even though she had done so fifteen seconds earlier. At last, Samantha’s car pulled up to the house. Michelle’s mother kissed her on the cheek lightly, careful not to disturb her meticulously applied makeup, and her dad made sure to remind her one more time that he would be staying up until she got home. Her parents had raised her well and trusted her; they had no reason not to. Still, her mom asked her to be careful.

  “Don’t worry Mom. I would never do anything you wouldn’t do.” Michelle shut the door behind her. Freedom at last!

  ‘The Little Engine That Might’, that was what Sam called her car. Now safely engulfed in its small aquarium-like bowels, with music blaring and plenty of candy, both girls were happy and smiling. The dance was to take place at the Rose & Glee Inn. It was a beautiful Victorian mansion that had been donated to the town by the last title-holding heir and had since been transformed into a heritage center that was rented out for events such as tonight’s. In the parking lot, the girls freshened up their makeup and checked that false lashes were still in place, at least for the beginning of the night. When Michelle placed her crown on her head she towered over Samantha by almost a foot.

  “Wow, I hope you didn’t wear heels too,” Samantha exclaimed. But Michelle hadn’t. It was one thing to have a huge crown on your head, but quite another to not be able to walk through a doorway. Samantha looked beautiful in her Queen of Hearts costume and, after greeting the chaperones at the front door, the two royals disappeared into the darkness, fog and flashing lights of another world, at least for a few hours.

  Inside, Michelle could hardly see where she was going because the entire place was filled with thick fog from numerous machines set in different corners. The sound and light guys from the drama department were really overdoing it and people kept yelling, “Enough with the fog,” but it made no difference to them. They found it amusing and fun to watch everyone stumble around. All the lights were flashing, and as soon as Michelle’
s eyes would try and focus in order to see where she was going, one would turn off and another would turn on in a different direction. Right away, the girls made a pact to stay close to one another so neither would get lost. The music was blaringly loud, and they could hardly hear their own voices, let alone each other. Whenever the DJ played a new song, colored lasers flashed, blinding with their contrast against the darkness. People were bumping into the girls from every direction, but unless the light landed on them no one could make out who anybody was. One time it was a werewolf emerging through the fog, then a devil woman materialized right before Michelle’s eyes. Another time it was the Phantom of the Opera and a green witch right behind him. It was all very surreal, spooky and perfect.

  Michelle and Samantha slowly moved into the great room where fans were blowing bubbles into the air. They were floating everywhere and Michelle thought they were just awesome. In the distance she could make out a raised dance floor with lighted ropes surrounding it. Strobe lights were making the dancers appear like animated puppets on strings. Samantha grabbed Michelle's hand and began dragging her. “Come on Michelle, it's going to be fun.”

  When Michelle danced she felt self-conscious, like she wasn't doing it right and everybody was staring at her. She loved the music, but she couldn’t relax enough to let go and really let the beat move her. It was one thing to take dance lessons at the local studio, but it was a whole different thing to go freestyle in front of the entire school. Of course, she eventually realized that no one could see anybody anyway, so who cares! Everybody was crammed together, and the smell of aerosol hairspray and cheap Halloween makeup filled Michelle’s nostrils. At one point somebody stepped in between her and Samantha, and when she tried to move around them Sam was nowhere to be seen. Michelle turned around in circles looking for her friend with no luck. She tried yelling Sam’s name, but she couldn't even hear her own voice.

  It was around midnight when most of the fog dissipated and the lights were turned back on. It took only an instant for the mysterious place to transform back into the Rose & Glee Inn. Michelle was exhausted and she felt gross; she was covered in sweat and had makeup melting down her face. After waiting in line upstairs to use the bathroom it was finally her turn, and by the time she came out many of the students were exiting through the back doors. Michelle still hadn’t seen Sam, and hurried downstairs to the parking lot. She stood by the VW and watched people shed pieces of their costumes like snakes shedding their old skin. Eddie was the vampire dude that had stepped on her foot, and right next to him was his younger brother Michael, sweating profusely after taking off his rubber Cyclops mask. The phantom wasn’t a guy at all like she had thought; it was actually Anna wearing a suit with a sequined cape.

  Still no Samantha! Should she get worried? The parking lot was starting to empty and Michelle was not amused; the truth was that her annoyance was a way of distracting herself from the fact that she was a bit scared. She tried to convince herself that Halloween was just a night like any other. Michelle texted Samantha, and although she could see that the text went through, there was no reply. Okay, she thought, what should her next move be? Should she panic? Should she call her parents? What would they think? They would never let her leave the house again! Just then, she heard footsteps coming from around the building. Michelle saw the werewolf from the dance floor and Little Red Riding Hood appear, holding hands. Disappointed that it wasn’t Samantha, Michelle watched the lovely couple as they approached a truck. It was Tim's blue Toyota. The werewolf took off his mask and Michelle’s fears were confirmed. It was Tim, and Little Red Riding Hood was Bethany. The rumors she had heard were true. Tim and Bethany were back together again, and that stung Michelle somewhere inside her gut.

  The last thing Michelle wanted was to be noticed, but it was too late. Tim turned around and spotted her leaning against Samantha's car that just happened to be parked directly under the streetlight. Of course he could see her, especially since the bright blue papier-mâché crown she was wearing was over a foot high. Tim said something to Bethany who folded her arms in annoyance. He started walking toward Michelle. If Michelle could have had one wish come true right there at that moment, she would've wished to either disappear or have the earth swallow her whole. Another choice could have been to have some gorgeous muscled guy standing proudly next to her. Why on this of all nights did Sam decide to disappear on her?

  “Hey Michelle. Is everything okay?” Tim asked, searching her eyes as if he wanted to ask something more.

  “Yes, of course. I’m fine.” Michelle answered, trying to act as if everything was cool. “I'm just waiting for Sam. She's on her way.” Tim didn’t seem convinced.

  “Are you sure? I'm the last car here. You shouldn’t be out here all alone.” The word ‘alone’ echoed several times in Michelle’s head. An irritated Bethany called Tim’s name, and he looked at the ground. “Do you want us to wait here till Samantha gets back?” he asked.

  “No, no. You two go ahead and have a good time,” Michelle replied with more venom than intended. She immediately wished she could swallow her own tongue. That wasn't like her. She tried again, “I'm okay. Go ahead, really.” Tim pretended not to notice any underlying emotions in Michelle’s voice, and was just about to say something when her cell phone beeped. It was the ‘miracle text’ from Samantha, who was having girl problems and was still in the bathroom. Michelle used the text as an exit strategy. “I have to go help Samantha. Thanks anyway,” she said in her best ‘worried’ voice. Tim smiled, but remained a bit confused at Michelle’s sudden departure. He had forgotten to tell her that he really liked her costume. But it was too late, because Michelle was already safely back within the walls of the Rose & Glee Inn.

  On the ride back home Michelle couldn't stop thinking about her encounter with Tim. She felt mortified. “I can't believe I looked like such a loser in front of them,” she said from the safety of the back seat. Samantha had promised to give Rachael a ride home after the dance and Michelle had volunteered to give up the front seat since Rachael’s costume made it almost impossible to move, let alone crouch down into the back seat of a VW bug. Rachael was dressed as a mermaid, and with her flowing wavy red hair and tight hugging fishlike skirt complete with scales and huge foamy fins, she looked like a living version of Ariel from the Disney movie. Rachael had made the costume herself, and was especially proud of her top, which she had created from an old swimsuit by painstakingly hot-gluing hundreds of tiny seashells and plastic pearls on it. She was also friends with Tim, and kept telling Michelle not to give up on him because she was sure he had feelings for her.

  “If he has feelings for me, then why was he at the dance with Bethany?” Michelle asked, waiting for a good response. But nobody had the answer to that question.

  Samantha was growing annoyed by the conversation running in circles, so she decided to turn on the radio really loud in order to drown out any more repetitions. Michelle and Rachael took the hint and started singing so loud that passing cars could hear them even through rolled up windows. They were having a blast because nothing can make one feel better than music. Every so often the girls would see a group of kids running around in the street still wearing their costumes and trying to extend Halloween night for as long as possible. To add a little more excitement to the ride home, the girls would slow down next to some of the kids, roll down their windows, and pelt them with the tiny seashells and plastic pearls that kept falling off Rachael’s top. Then they would speed up, driving away screaming and screeching with laughter.

  There was an especially large group of kids to the left of the road. Samantha knew that if they wanted to hit the kids with the shells they would have to cross over the double yellow line into the oncoming traffic side of the street. It was almost 12:30 AM, and the roads were deserted.

  “What do you think?” Samantha asked.

  Rachael looked back at Michelle, who nodded in mischief and said, “Yeah, let's get ‘em.”

  “Yes,” said Rachael,
“Go for it!” And both of them began to cheer, “Go for it. Go for it!” Samantha looked up ahead and saw no oncoming traffic. She thought it would be safe to drift over to the other side for just a few seconds. “Okay get ready,” she said, and steered the car to the left, parallel to the kids. Rachael leaned over Samantha so she could reach the driver’s side window, while Michelle reached over Samantha's left shoulder so she could also get a better aim. But before the girls had the chance to throw the stuff, they were bombarded by a storm of raining eggs. The eggs shattered everywhere; the car was covered in yellow yolk and bits of eggshell. Some of them even flew in through the open window. One hit Samantha head on, sending slimy yolk down her face, while others broke against the windshield, dashboard, and rearview mirror. The girls screamed, and Samantha swerved back onto the right side of the road. Immediately, they heard loud horns and screeching tires. Samantha panicked and lost control of the wheel, and the car swerved across the shoulder and down into a small ravine, violently jolting to a halt mere inches away from a large oak tree. Michelle’s head flew forward right into the back of Samantha’s seat, than whip-lashed backwards. Rachael and Sam were luckier; their seat belts prevented them from the same fate, although the belts tightened and the pressure could be felt right down into their bones.

  Michelle had never been so scared in her entire life. Her heart was pounding so fast and loud that she thought she was going to, or maybe had already had a heart attack. Her body was shaking from the adrenaline, and she felt disoriented. All three of them were stunned, and it was quiet because nobody could muster up the courage to say anything. Finally, Samantha was able to speak.