SODIUM
(Vol. 1)
Harbinger
By
Stephen Arseneault
Published By:
Stephen Arseneault
Copyright © 2012-2016 Stephen Arseneault
“Freedom is every man's right. Freedom is every man's responsibility. What's the use of living if you can't live free? What's the use in dying if you can't die trying!”
—S.A.
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www.arsenex.com
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[email protected] All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Books written by Stephen Arseneault
SODIUM Series
A six-book series that takes Man from his first encounter with aliens all the way to a fight for our all-out survival. Do we have what it takes to rule the galaxy?
AMP Series
Cast a thousand years into the future beyond SODIUM. This eight-book series chronicles the struggles of Don Grange, a simple package deliveryman, who is thrust into an unimaginable role in the fight against our enemies. Can we win peace and freedom after a thousand years of war?
OMEGA Series
Cast a thousand years into the future beyond AMP. The Alliance is crumbling. When corruption and politics threaten to throw the allied galaxies into chaos, Knog Beutcher gets caught in the middle. Follow along as our hero is thrust into roles that he never expected or sought. Espionage, intrigue, political assassinations, rebellions and full-on revolutions, they are all coming to Knog Beutcher's world!
HADRON Series
HADRON is a modern day story unrelated to the SODIUM-AMP-OMEGA trilogy series. After scientists using the Large Hadron Collider discover dark matter, the world is plunged into chaos. Massive waves of electromagnetic interference take out all grid power and forms of communication the world over. Cities go dark, food and water supplies are quickly used up, and marauders rule the highways. Months after the mayhem begins, and mass starvation has taken its toll, a benevolent alien species arrives from the stars. Only, are they really so benevolent? Find out in HADRON as Man faces his first real challenge to his dominance of Earth!
Find them all at www.arsenex.com
Chapter 1
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I was sometimes an obsessive-compulsive when challenged. That personality trait could be a blessing or a curse depending on the circumstance. It was early June of the summer of 1957. A peaceful getaway with my sister and friends had just begun, a getaway that would change the course of my life and possibly that of all man.
I had been bouncing around in the back of a Jeep for several hours as we crept our way along an old Indian trail. We were heading to our first night's camp. The danger that lay ahead would call on me to summon a level of courage that I was not sure I had; self-confidence and bravery were not my stronger traits.
My four companions always had great stories to tell whenever they returned from an adventure. I was looking forward to finally taking part in one. Little did I know that it would be a story that I could never tell. It was a story that no one would believe unless they had been there and witnessed it for themselves.
The terrain on the trail was rough. The old World War II surplus vehicles we had rented, Willys MBs that everyone calls jeeps, seemed to constantly struggle to make their way, but make it they did. I was riding in the back of the second jeep and had been holding on for dear life to a leather hand strap that had been bolted to the side of the seatframe. It was the only thing that had kept me in the constantly bucking and jerking metal contraption.
We were on a high trail that offered a steep incline on one side and a sixty-foot cliff that dropped into a ravine on the other. As we came around a bend, the jeep bounced heavily and came to an abrupt stop. With that bounce, I went up in the air and came down hard on the back left side of the vehicle.
The fall bruised my ribs and knocked the breath from me. The trail edge had given way, probably due to weakening from the winter snowmelt, the result being that the Jeep now tilted heavily toward the cliff's edge.
In my shock and pain, I proceeded to helplessly roll off the left side. I was faced with a long drop into the craggy, rock-infested ravine below. As I began my roll, Bull reached out from the driver's seat and made a lucky grab of my right arm; it was nearly pulled from its socket.
For several seconds I dangled over the edge as Bull held strong. His grip on the steering wheel held him in place as he steadied himself. With a long, loud grunt, my friend since junior high pulled me with one arm up and over himself and into the now-vacant passenger seat of the precariously positioned vehicle.
Allie, Bull's wife, had sprung into action from the passenger seat, reeling out the cable from the winch. As I lay upside down, moaning, another pair of hands grabbed under my arms and pulled me out onto the safety of firm ground. It was Kyle, my soon-to-be brother-in-law.
As the Jeep continued to slowly slide, Bull followed me out of the passenger side, moving carefully so as not to send the vehicle over the edge before his escape. Meanwhile, Allie had found a tree and secured the cable. Just as Bull's first foot hit the ground, the cable tightened and held fast, stopping the jeep just as it began what would have been its death roll.
As fast as the cable pulled tight, Allie was back at the ratcheting winch pumping away. She worked the three-foot-long lever handle with her strong back and athletic legs. Inch by inch, she slowly pulled the vehicle back to secure ground. Except for the pain I was now feeling, the whole episode seemed to be over almost before it had begun. We took a ten-minute break to rest and regain our composure.
Allie was not afraid of a little “heavy work,” as she called it. For 1957, she was not your typical woman. At five foot eleven, she towered over most of the women of her day. She had an athletic build that was also feminine and very well proportioned. She often prided herself on being compared to Annie Oakley, only she would say she was much taller.
In the face of danger, Allie seemed fearless and quick minded. Those traits had saved her and Bull from a bear attack some years earlier, when she distracted the bear just as it was about to maul her husband. It was a story Bull loved to retell whenever they made a new acquaintance.
Bull was a big ole country boy. He had a quick wit and a big, toothy grin that somehow made everyone around him smile. At six foot five and 260 pounds, he was also a big, intimidating fella. And most of that weight was muscle. If you met him, he had a manner about him that quickly set you at ease. For Bull, having the country-boy persona was all part of his charm. It helped him to disarm business clients when deals were to be made.
For twenty-five years, Bull's father had been running a small general store in the town of Roswell, just north of Atlanta. After growing up watching his father deal with the in and outs of business, he had plans of opening a shop of his own. So, at eighteen years of age he took the money he had saved from working and opened Big Al's Hunting and Fishing Supply, aptly named after his father. Big Al's had been
an early success and over the next twelve years had grown into a chain of five such stores spread around the Atlanta and North Georgia area. If you were interested in hunting or fishing around the northern half of the state, then Big Al's was the place to go for outfitting.
The group's adventure out west to the backcountry of Yosemite National Park in California was put together to explore a business venture for the stores. The jeeps had been rented from a sports outfitter in Sacramento and delivered to a trailhead at Buck Meadow, along with most of the camping supplies.
The venture was to offer an outing into the wilds of America, where the first ten miles would be on wheels, and the remaining eighty-seven would be on foot with a backpack. The Yosemite Sportsman Adventure Package was to be a two-week excursion when counting a flight from Atlanta, Georgia, to Sacramento, California, and back. The Atlanta Municipal Airport had just begun flights for commercial traffic the month before, and the trek to St. Louis, then Denver, then over the mountains to Sacramento and back had just opened up.
Bull and Allie loved the idea of offering the package to their high-end clients and, in the process, opening up a whole new field of sportsman travel adventures. Aside from expanding their business, it would also enlarge their circle of friends, and they loved to keep company.
After a half day’s ride in the jeeps, the plan was to camp overnight and then spend the next ten days backpacking. We carried food supplies even though we expected to be hunting and fishing for most of our meals. It was a rugged trip, but the group was well prepared.
After the ten-minute break, the wheels of the jeeps were once again rolling. I winced whenever we hit a small bump along the way, and they were many. We came down off the high trail only to have the path cross a rushing stream. The water moved swiftly and was a foot and a half deep at the crossing point. The stop was used to break for lunch.
The stream was an awesome setting for our small feast. The warm sun was shining down through the trees above, and the clear blue sky surrounding it was probably the deepest, purest blue I had ever seen. The late spring greens of the surrounding vegetation and the large, rounded granite boulders of the Yosemite area gave us a show of what the wilds of America were like.
For me, the trip was a well needed adventure. I sold insurance—homeowner’s, life, business, you name it— and I was good at it. It wasn't particularly fun or exciting, but I was willing to work at it to bring home a good paycheck. At the time, it was very lucrative for someone with the right connections, and I had financial connections to many of Atlanta's wealthy, many of whom were looking to invest in the insurance game or needed insurance themselves. Some were also patrons of Big Al's and I had promised them a synopsis of the journey once it was complete.
I considered myself a decent-looking guy, and I was sensible, responsible, and had a good sense of humor. I had never raised my hand to my prior wife and I had never confronted her in anger. But my height and the social situations of my work had always worked against me. She had left me for a tall wealthy client. It hadn't helped that my personality was a bit obtuse and self-centered; that was great for sales, but not so great on the romantic front.
I was told that I was in need of an education on women because I could not seem to figure it out on my own. My only consolation was that my wife had left the marriage with no financial demands. So, I at least still had my home.
As I looked around the warm spring setting at my friends, my sister came into view. She was a looker and smart, but she was also a big spender. To fund her habits, she kept Kyle busy selling autos down at the local dealer. Kyle had managed to make himself the lead salesman for 1955 and 1956. And with Susi's spending habits, he knew he would have to keep it up for each coming year. The one big difference in their relationship from mine that I could see was that she really did love him, and it was not for his money.
Susi was my younger sister by six years. She had attained a degree in education from the University of Georgia. She and Allie had been classmates and soon became fast friends. They were a strange pair, as they were complete opposites when apart. That would all change when they came together, with each one taking on the characteristics of the other.
Allie was woodsy and athletic, while Susi was a bit prissy and much more typical of an upper-middle-class woman of her time. Susi did not want to get her hands dirty for any reason. When you put the two together, they suddenly became twins. Susi would go to the woods or shoot skeet, and Allie would dress to the nines and do a mean dinner party. No one understood it, but we all respected it and never questioned why.
Kyle was close to my age and was a casual, friendly guy that seemed to fit in wherever he went. At work he was detail oriented and always followed up with his clients, a trait that kept them coming back for more. He was also never averse to a little hard work or to helping out a friend.
As the warm sun shone down, I sat back on a rock while my four fellow adventurers unpacked our lunch. We refilled our canteens from the rushing stream, as back in the day there were no fancy filters and such. We would find where the water rushed over the rocks, fill the canteen, and then drop in a salt tablet to help disinfect it. I sometimes wondered if people's digestive tracts back then were not a bit hardier, before we all became citified.
We had taken twenty minutes to go through our little picnic when Bull and Kyle decided it was time to get across the stream. Kyle rolled up his pant legs, waded down into the water, and let out a howl as the ice-cold snowmelt rushed over his ankles. He pulled the winch cable across with him as he grimaced with each and every step. The stream was twenty-five feet wide at the crossing. When Kyle emerged on the other side, he hurried to the nearest tree and attached the cable. He then quickly sat down in the sun to nurse his cold, aching feet.
As the injured party, I asked that I be spared the cold waters and be allowed to be a driver on the way across. With the cable secured, I got my wish. I began to slowly drive the jeep down into the rushing, frigid stream. Allie was again up on the front bumper and was ratcheting away on the winch. As we entered the stream, the cold water came up to the bumpers. I could almost make out a grimace on Allie’s face, but she would never let it show; any hardship just made her more determined.
As we passed the halfway point, the water hit its deepest level. The jeep began to float and moved six inches to the left. I panicked, and in an effort to stop the movement, I stuck my left leg out into the icy-cold water. It was a bad move on my part, as the rushing water pushed my foot outwards and the slippery rocks gave me no good footing. In an attempt to right the situation, I pushed harder on the accelerator. In doing so I slid further out of the jeep.
As my weight shifted, it compounded the problem. With less weight the vehicle began to drift to the left. I was halfway out when my foot caught on the edge of a rock. Then, in an instant, the floating jeep pushed against my leg, throwing me fully out into the icy water. I wanted to scream as my torso hit the biting cold, but as soon as I was in, my head went under. The jeep proceeded to drift another two feet to the left, pinning me underneath.
Bull immediately sprang into action. After leaping in he grabbed the left rear bumper, hoisting up the back end. Kyle followed after, pulling me from under the green steel trap. My head rising just above allowing me to draw in a breath.
In the rushing water, Kyle lost his grip. I was sent tumbling down the stream. After a long roll I finally came to a stop in a flat while sitting upright. I coughed and spat mountain water as Kyle caught up and dragged me back to the safety and warmth of dry land.
During my mishap, Allie once again cranked away at the ratchet winch. She moved the jeep out of danger and nearly to the other side. Bull hopped in, and within seconds the jeep was out of the stream and on dry land. After making sure that I would survive, Bull, Kyle, and Allie waded back across the bitter, cold water. The other jeep was brought over without incident.
Unlike the others, my brain just did not seem to function well in an emergency situation. That fact, when c
oupled with my propensity to get myself injured, made it appear as though my friends would have a tough time on the trip just trying to keep me alive.
In the span of an hour I had bruised my ribs, almost fallen off a cliff, and nearly drowned. It was shaping up to be quite the adventure. Despite my troubles, I was determined that I was going to continue on; this was an important outing for my friends, and I was determined that I was not going to be the one who ruined it.
After another ten minutes of rest and a good drying off, the wheels of the jeeps were once again rolling. I was shaken from my ordeal, but I insisted that we move on. I believe it was the first time I actually thought fondly of the insurance business. It wasn't exciting, but then again I wasn't in danger of drowning from it. We slowly moved another mile down the trail before coming to the next stop.