FROM THE STORM Zebulon made it out of prison with only a broken arm. But, he made it. He walked down one of the narrow streets inside the Big North Easy and found himself on Irene's doorstep. Remember Irene, the girl he loved. Zebulon violently knocked on her door and screamed after her. "Irene, come out right now. I swear to God. You better get your ass out here." He waited for a response. But, there was nothing. And for the first time that night there was silence. She was the first one to break the silence, between them. "Just hold on a sec." She said. He stayed close to door, listening to the sound of her footsteps making their way down the stairs. He looked at the door and waited for her to open it. A couple seconds later, she cracked the door open, only slightly. She kept the door in position with her foot. She looked at Zebulon with pity. Poor Zeb. This was the last thing that she needed tondo to him. This note the welcome she intended. But that is how life sometimes turns out. "What is it that you want me to say. Come on Zeb." Irene said. She was still beautiful And Zeb was sawyed by her light grey eyes. She was just as beautiful as ever. Zeb looked at her and could not believe his eyes. Was this really Irene speaking?
He heard her, but he didn't register what was happening. This wasn't how he planned his reunion with Irene. There was suppose a big hug and a kiss. But, there was nothing of that sort. Zebulon tried again. "Irene, is this really you? What's wrong. I'm back. I'm out of prison. They let me out, three months early." "How many times do I have to say this. We were never a thing. We were never meant to be anything to each other, but a fling." Zebulon listened to every word she said and she was right. He knew it. Zebulon grabbed a hold of his arm. The stitches and the steel plate inside his arm still bothered him. Zebulon gave up and didn't want to tear up what ever little that had between them. "You're right. Irene. I'm sorry. I never meant to bother you. I never meant you any harm. So. How about it, Irene? You and me and future. We would be great together. I only what's best for you. You know that." Irene looked at Xebulon with annoyance and anger. She opened the door amd walked right up to him, making him stumble back. "Jesus man." Irene said as she grabbed his hand. "Of course I want to be with you, Zeb. But I can't. Not now. Can you believe that? I can't, no matter how much I try. It's over between us. The problem was that I couldn't keep waiting for you." "I was in prison." "I know that. Can you believe this? I always knew that we wouldn't make it. And I Agrred with that. Come on Zeb. Stop making it so much harder than it needs to be." Zebulon looked at her and he knew the truth, it felt good and terrifying at the same time. The future was his and his alone. There wasn't a constant out there. It was all a hullicination. The sun and the moon were always out. They always emerged in the sky. In fact, they smetimes cane out together. Zebulon looked at her one last times. Her eyes were like pools of water. There wasn't much between them anymore. Irene saw the black expression on his face and knew it was time for all this to end. It was over and there wasn't nothing else to say between them. Irene turned away from his. He tried to catch her waist with his arm. But, she slid away, back into her house.
The door closed. He stood alone at her door step. He accepted it, but could not believe it. Outside Irene's home, there was a storm, grey and impatient. It turned with the wind in every direction. The storm was real. He looked at Irene's front door, then back at the storm. He wondered what had happened between Him and Irene. He swore that they were supposed to be getting married, today. He had hoped to be with her, right after be got out of prison. Irene. Irene. Irene. Zebulon stared at the storm that waited for him out there. It moved violently, like iron filings being dragged around the air with a magnet. He started to walk toward it. It was easier to en it this way. As we walked toward it, he made a vow, similar to the one that He swore that once he stepped in that storm he would never step out. He would walk in the storm as far as he could. He would walk until his throat and mouth were filled with dry sand. They would have to carry him out, as a dead man. He paused momentarily, before he stepping in the storm. He began his walk. Then a familiar face appeared to him. It was his father. "My dear son. I have been looking all over for you. Why didn't you come home first." "I didn't want to get you involved." Zebulon said, "The Organization isn't going to let me go. They said that they would let me go, if Irene said yes me. But, she no. There isn't much or me. Not here." His father walked up to him. "Hey, you dumb shit. What are you thinking? You know that I'm your father an I can pull some string too. Who do you think got you out so early? I did. I did it so the Organization would catch on. So you can have time to leave." "It's too late for that. I have to go." Zebulon screamed over the spin of the storm. Where do you think that you are going? Stop. Whatever you are thinking, just stop my dear son. Listen." Zebulon looked down and saw his father. He looked a bit frail. He had been gone
a long time. "My dear son." His father continued. "You don't have to worry about the Organization ever again." "What do you mean?" "You will begin your life again in the new World. I have made sure of it. I want you to get away from this planet. You're right. There is nothing here. I have worked it out and your going on The Arc, one of the three ships traveling across the stars to a New World. They need people to make the journey. My luck, that I have a friend who is your age. He sort of looks like you. I didn't have it planned out at first when I met him about two years ago when you first went into prison. His name isn't important, but who he was was. It so happens that he was suppose to go on the Arc. But the bottom line is that I want you to take his place on the Arc." "Doing what?" "Some routine maintenance and space walking. You've done that when you've worked on the moon." "But, I'm not certified." "Yes you are. You have this guy's certification." "Who?" "The guy." "So, you want me to take his identity and leave to another world." He thought about Irene, as he listened to his father. "It's all set. I've already paid someone to take care of all the work. It's set all over the net, just like it were always meant to be. For all intents and purposes, you are him already." "I can't go." "What about Irene?" His father slapped Zebulon in the face. "My dear son, you have to get going. They are going to take you through a year of training. You'll be prepared. Your going to have a chance to practice all the routines of space. Now go."
His father placed a coin in his hand and disappeared into the storm. Zebulon opened his hand and saw the metal coin. It contained a tiny point of light in the politicians eye. It was his identification, hi education, his money, his life. As he stared at the coin, he thought of Irene an her damn shaved head. "Irene, what should I do?" Zebulon remembered a question that he once asked his father. Why is this the years of Q. "My good son. It was the year of Q because some time in the future Archimedes will take a whole society through a dark passage, toward a New World where mankind will be free from the never ending nuclear storm that blanket the skies of the earth." "Why Q, though?" The year Q was named for the Question that mankind has searched for since the dawn of man, the Question that can only be solved by a journey into space that is 200 years away, way beyond your time on earth." "And the Question is?" "When your old enough, you only need to look deep inside yourself to know what Question is. It is the center of who we all are. It is the question that we all search for. And one day, we'll get an answer." Zebulon was a boy at the time. Now that he was older, Zebulon tried to think about what his father said. Then after that, he thought about his last day in prison. He was being released and long sharp blades were being retracted from the floor and ceiling of the killing fields. There was a path being made for him. Beyond the wall of the prison, there was a field of steel bars that criss cross each other. Through the field, there was one guard who walked with him. Zebulon and the guard were dressed in white and there was a red dot of light on Zebulon's back. They had a rifle on him as he walked through the field. The guard walked him to the edge of darkness where there was no sense of sky or ground. The guard took him out the outer gate and there is a storm so violent that it blacked out the sun. The prisoner stepped toward the storm and stood out there, along an edge. His arm is broken and in a swing. Zebulon looked back at
the guard, watching the guard lock the outer gate. Zeb was on the outside now. He watched the guard walk away until he disappeared, and there is nothing, but the sound of the storm. The storm stirs the darkness. And there is nothing, but sound.
ALSO BY EDGAR A. BAJAÑA DARK ROAD Before John Pierce became a hero to the world, he was a scrawny 15-year-old kid trapped inside the trunk of a speeding car heading down a Dark Road. EVE DREAMS AN UGLY BOY Ivan, a deformed tattoo artist, becomes obsessed with Evelyn who he sees only once on the train. Ivan must have her, no matter whose dreams he must destroy along the way. VICTORIA VICTORIA Actress. Psycho. Killer. Victoria Stern is a woman with a shadowy past drenched in blood, pursued by two private investigators, named Colossus and the Hound. Available
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/EdgarBajana Thank you for choosing to read this short story. Send comments, suggestions or feedback to: email@example.com CONNECT WITH THE AUTHOR http://twitter.com/EdgarBajana http://www.facebook.com/edgar.bajana http://www.youtube.com/user/edgarbajana/videos http://pinterest.com/EdgarBajana