(AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Everest & the Exceptions” will be released October 24, 2024, but we will be offering the prologue and TEN preview chapters to whet your appetite for a limited time. Make sure to read them in order by beginning here with the book’s prologue, entitled “stormy weather.”)
The venom is taking effect. Victoria can feel it spreading rapidly from the wound in her shoulder blade where one of the little terrors sliced her. Weakening her, attempting to drain her of the power she had barely begun to realize. She had no idea what they would look like - but Miss Barrow had reiterated that they would eventually come for her. She should have known they would arrive on the eve of her fifteenth birthday. Most girls get cake. Victoria gets hunted.
The creatures arrived in a blur, one of them lashing out at her before she had time to hear them - but she is uncommonly quick thanks to her new mentor’s relentless training. The moment she felt it, she threw herself backward into her bedroom wall. At least stunning the creature, it inflicted no more than a paper cut of damage to her skin - but that was enough to let in the poison. She remembered her mentor’s words and escaped, tumbling out the secret door, down the stairs and through the kitchen window, taking nothing with her but the guarded thing she knows that they want. She feels the weight of it on the chain around her neck, thudding against the small of her chest as she sprints.
To keen observers, her speed would be unexpected, but there are no observers, keen or otherwise at this mostly abandoned intersection of Indiana farmland in the middle of the night. She attempts to focus, but there is regret to quash. She should have escaped to Indiana sooner. She should have made the risky move to evade her captors the moment she realized they were frauds. If she had, Miss Barrow would have had significantly more time to prepare her for the reality she was facing. Instead, they had mere weeks together - and Tori does not feel equipped to face these beasts. Yes, she understands her power to an extent, but there are so many gaps of missing information. Tori should never have allowed Marigold to hold her back. Just the thought of the girl makes Victoria red in the face. Of course, that could also be the sprinting.
Tori sees her intended destination revealing itself over the tips of the cornstalks in the near distance: the bell tower of the long-abandoned cathedral. It’s in disrepair, but it will have to do. Her pursuers are every bit as fast as her, and much hungrier.
Ironic that the haven is a church. Miss Barrow doesn’t trust organized anything, especially religion. But, she was vigilant, making Tori memorize it, “When they come for it - and they will - you hurry, girl - to the Bocca della Tempesta Cathedral. You don’t stop until you cross that threshold.”
In lieu of answers about her mysterious attackers, Miss Barrow had first focused on Victoria’s emotional training. “This is what few control,” Tori was instructed, “but you must, Victoria. Your life depends upon it - and the lives of others.” Tori does not like being called Victoria. It sounds white. Escaping overnight to New Harmony had been difficult enough without Tori standing out like a coffee bean in a bowl of Indiana rice. Of course, this is part of the training. The people of this place staring at her - their words or often the lack of them. “You cannot control what you feel, but you can control how you manifest those powerful feelings.” Right now, those feelings are urgent self-preservation - and she is channeling them into running like hell for that church.
She hears the hum of her pursuers gaining momentum at an ungodly pace. These foes have always been vaguely referred to as they, the specifics dodged. Tori has a vivid imagination. She has prepared herself for a vast range of what they might entail. She never considered this.
The buzz-like throng fast approaching, Tori rounds the corner, now within a hundred yards of the fully visible cathedral. It does not look like a protection with its shattered stained-glass renderings and it’s partially collapsed roof, the holes covered shoddily with makeshift leftover sheet iron. The adobe arches and walls are all that remain. This so-called sanctuary couldn’t protect her from an autumn rain - much less these wretches. Tori sees the bell itself is missing from the tower, a severe disappointment as the ringing of it could have signaled for help. There is a lone phone booth on the corner at the far end of the parking lot, but she dare not take the risk of getting stranded inside of it. Somehow, she must notify someone. She knows little about this enemy, but one thing she does know is that they cannot afford for certain others to be aware of her presence in New Harmony.
Tori rounds the corner, respite finally within reach, and just as she pushes her already groaning muscles to a final surge, her left ankle catches the barbed wire of a collapsed fence. It wraps around her leg and yanks her sideways, tearing her flesh and hurling Tori into the dirt. Disoriented for a moment, Tori scrambles to get her bearings. She is in excruciating pain, on her back and tangled in wire that has ripped quite a bloody gash in her thigh. She reaches down to untangle the mess and press against the wound, when she hears the deadly thrum.
She freezes - absolutely still. The intense vibration is close and low, reverberating like a too loud amplifier just before a bad cover band starts playing. One of them is ahead of the pack, hovering in the air, readying attack - but searching in the wrong direction. Tori realizes that this thing struggles to find her if she does not move - at least for the moment. It affords her the opportunity to see what they actually are. In her room, her attacker moved so swiftly, it was merely a blur of light - but now, she sees that it is something akin to a hummingbird, albeit beastly. Its eyes, they glow with a hollow and fierce blue flame. The creature is albino in nature, almost blindingly white except for a touch of red at the very tip of its scalpel-sharp beak. Well, of course it’s white. Like every other irritant. Like the farmers at the cafe when she first arrived in New Harmony. The ones who commented on the exotic shade of Tori’s skin. Older men. Creeps who have no idea how badly Tori could harm them, in self-defense, but that wouldn’t change how much she would enjoy the act. Of course, the woman who taught Tori to fight is as good as dead now and Tori will soon follow suit if she doesn’t get her wits about her and figure out how to get past this little needle-nosed demon.
Tori breathes with as little sound and movement as possible. Her eyes dart, striving for a plan. She must remove the barbed wire in order to make a break for the cathedral, but this parakeet from hell will certainly notice even the smallest motion. As Tori does her best to stave off panic, three more arrive. Then, another dozen. They sense she is here somewhere. They flitter about like disorganized bees, this way and that - sometimes colliding inadvertently with one another. Tori finds small consolation in the observation that they are far from unified, dangerously stupid like Trevor and Barry, who she was relieved to discover were not her actual family. The hummingbirds’ patterns are chaos. This makes their movement unpredictable, but perhaps this can be used against them. One swoops too close - the hum agitating Tori’s ear. She does not move or blink.
As they zip this way and that, quick as static electricity and desperate to locate their target, Tori knows she has one other weapon in her arsenal - a power that she can expend. She has been warned that the act will steal all her strength for twenty seconds. She decides against the attempt. Twenty seconds is a long time. These things would locate her, seizing upon her before she could benefit from the act. She must make a break for it, but how? At least a dozen now flit between her and the cathedral archway. She considers digging in for the long haul, waiting out the night in the hopes that they will search elsewhere. But, then she hears the oncoming roar.
If this dozen-plus searching for her now sounds like a swarm, then what is within earshot must be hundreds. There is no way she will be able to remain here undetected. She is exposed. She must do something. She has instinct and debates if she should act upon it. Perhaps she could expend a little - just an iota of the power - a distraction, but not enough to deplete her. As the roar grows - fast approaching, Tori inches her right hand to the talisman around her neck and her left hand palm-down on the soil. She squeezes the item with her thumb and forefinger as she was taught, and focuses. She feels the thing grow warm, then pulse like a heartbeat, energy pushing out of her stretched palm into the Indiana soil. A specific thought, a wave - no, a tremor - and as Tori feels exhaustion envelope her, the field of cornstalks across the road from the cathedral senses her ripple of energy and sways sudden and hard like a blast of wind has seized the tops of the stalks. It is a significant enough distraction of movement to attract the flying beasts rapidly toward it in flight. As they flit their backs to her, in collision with one another amid the mad scramble to locate her in that field, Tori rushes to unwrap the wire, blood from her wound now pooling in the dirt. She stands depleted, fully discovering the impediment of the energy drain. It is far more intense than she had imagined. The Cathedral, fifty yards from her, might as well be a mile. But, there is no time - for the hundreds have arrived, rounding the corner - and now that she stumbles forward, they see her clearly.
The mass of them in chaos blotting out their portion of night sky, Tori seizes one of the discarded panels of sheet iron left to rust in the elements and uses it for cover, birds dive-bombing her and pecking at the thin metal like a sudden onslaught of hail. She hobbles precariously, favoring the injured leg and taking pause for vast and wild swats as the hum grows dangerously close. Each swing of the sheet iron, batting her tiny assailants away - but barely. Wisps and whistles shoot past her face and arms, leaving razor-thin stinging cuts on her skin. If just one gets a decent shot, it could be the death of her. The repeated violent smack of metal against flapping wing gives her satisfaction, fueling her stumble to sanctuary. Her strength grows as sharp beaks nip and tug at the back of her nightshirt. Tori takes one last wild swing around, whacking ten away in a rat-a-tat-tat of a single forceful blow.
She notices that every time she hits one with the sheet iron, it splits and multiplies into two more. Perfect. She can’t even fight back without creating more enemies.
They have fury now and they come at her like a rainstorm of machine gun fire. Against all rational thought, Tori dives across the threshold of the church, skidding skin to splintered wood on the rotting floor through the archway. Her body screams at her - the pain causing tears to fill her eyes. It takes her a moment to realize that she is no longer being pummeled with these avian nightmares - and the buzzing roar is now a low, foreboding hum. She glances up and sees hundreds of pairs of glowing ice-blue demon eyes just on the other side of the threshold. All hovering and staring at her. Poking. Testing. Waiting. They are incapable of crossing the threshold. It actually worked.
Tori expends great effort to shuffle a few feet to her left. All eyes follow. She stands - painfully, staggered, leaning gingerly on the toes of the bleeding leg. I mean - they’re birds. Can they really - can they really know? But, she fully understands they are not birds - not really. Tori needs to be certain that they are indeed after what she was told they would want, so she gingerly pulls the talisman on the chain out from its hiding place under her nightshirt. An intricate thing, ornate on one side and the underbelly smooth. The moment the totem is visible, the hummingbirds go ballistic. Like a swarm of wasps, they tumble violently into one another and the invisible barrier of the church threshold. The stillness erased by an angry and chaotic mob, the hum peaking to a communal and furious growl. It is indeed terrifying, and Tori quickly stumbles backward into a seated position on the dirty floor.
Suddenly, silence.
A single chirp has come from the direction Tori had been tangled in the barbed wire. All of the monstrosities turn to see. A lone albino hummingbird flitters to the ground, having discovered the pool of Tori’s blood. It titters playfully on the edge of it, pecking at it to taste - a moment of realization, and then the hummingbird sinks its beak deep into the liquid - consuming it. Tori watches in horror as the red tip of the hummingbird’s beak seeps and expands - red filling its head, body, and wings - enveloping the white of its body in full, and turning that hideous creature blood-red from top to tail.
Aw, hell no.
The moment the last portion of white surrenders to red, the eyes of the beast shift like an ignition from blue flame to lava fire - the creature now the very embodiment of fury in one tiny, terrible package. But, that isn’t what truly terrifies Tori. For upon realizing one of their kind has fed upon the lifeblood of their target, the horde scurries away from Tori and to the same source. The bloody beast feeds a few hovering others out of its beak as if it were nectar and those birds pass it on and so on until the sea of white becomes a crimson plague.
They all turn toward Tori, an evil fire in their eyes - fierce and stronger now, and with a significant difference than before. They are now completely synchronized, swaying ominously this way and that like a school of shiners, shape-shifting like krill. Tori gasps at the terror of the sight as they surge in one violent rush toward her.
Forgetting the invisible barrier between them for a split second, Tori flinches and cowers as the mass (in all essence the shape of a missile) dive-bombs toward her, breaking upward at the last moment, shaking the metal roofing in the massive tremor of its wake. It stirs up a cloud of corn dust (truly the worst kind), and Tori coughs and waves it away from her face as she stands, attempting to get a bead on the enemy.
As the air clears, the moment is quiet - Tori would have called it serene on a night she was not being hunted. None of the hovering monstrosities are visible. Tori wonders for a split second if her blood is perhaps what they were after - if all is now clear to move beyond the threshold. But, she knows better. She’s seen enough horror movies to know that this is when things go very bad. She seizes the talisman around her neck between her thumb and forefinger, reminding herself of what is truly at stake if these flying tampons succeed.
And then, THUD - the sheet iron roofing above her capsizes as the mass comes down like a bull directly from above. They are trying to force her out into the open. The inflicted damage presses Tori to the ground underneath its twisted heft, but not before the shock of the moment causes her to inadvertently snap the talisman chain right off of her own neck. NO! Losing her grip, she sees it hurtling through midair - her fingers stretching in a panic to grasp the tail of the chain - but she misses. It skids out into the dust. The talisman is outside the barrier of the threshold of the church.
She holds her breath. Do they know? Did they see? The buzzing roar is farther away, higher. They must be gathering and gaining momentum above to come down en masse upon the roof once again. Tori knows she has but a split second to seize the talisman before all is lost. But, how will she take hold of it and get back to safety before they see and swiftly devastate her? Tori does the math in her head repeatedly of how to get the talisman and return past this threshold. She comes up lacking at every turn - all the while, the sound of the onslaught growing louder, incoming from above. And then, she remembers Miss Barrow’s words, Only when you stop insisting upon the only way - will you find another way.
The other way is staring her in the face: get the talisman even if that means you cannot return to safety.
And just when the sound of the swarm becomes unbearable, Tori leaps out of the way, barely dodging another portion of collapsed roofing and seizing the chain and talisman as she sprints across the parking lot like lightning toward the phone booth. The horde regathers and gains their bearings from the crash - taking a beat to realign into a tornado and driving hard toward the sprinting girl, ripping up a path in the concrete as they pursue. The phone booth closer now, Tori realizes what an unfortunate haven this is, the metal and glass casing providing very little in the way of protection, but she hurls herself inside nonetheless, kicking the folding door closed just as a hundred pummel the glass above her cowered head like machine gun fire. Shards rain upon her. She screams. The phone is dead, this effort futile, and the tornado unfurls into a strange thick rope of bloody hummingbirds that begins wrapping itself around the booth, ready to squeeze and turn Tori to pulp.
She knows now that she has no other choice. She must use her power to its full extent. Even though she knows it will signal her specific whereabouts to the wrong people. It is the only option that remains. She has never used it before because it was never a matter of life or death. She was told this act would deplete her, but Tori is strong, stronger than Miss Barrow ever fully realized. She has been taught that it should buy her twenty seconds - twenty precious seconds that could make all the difference. Could. She hesitates at that word. What if it doesn’t buy her enough time? She will have to make it back across the church threshold - and right now, the beasts pressing in, that seems very far away indeed. But, she is fast. She knows that she can travel a significant distance given twenty seconds head start.
At that moment, the twisted bloody hummingbird mass tightens around the booth, contracting hard, glass panes shattering, metal frame bending. Collapse is imminent. It will do Tori no good to debate further. She places the talisman in the small of the palm of her hand, touches it with her fourth finger and presses firm. She has been prepared for precisely this moment - when all the world is caving in, enemies are upon her, and fear strives to burrow deep. The trigger for her power is not close at hand, so her imagination must suffice. She concentrates intensely, quieting the world. In her mind’s eye, all around her shifts to soft focus, burning to shades of amber, moving in slow-motion. A smooth howl of wind centers her and for the briefest of moments, in her mind she is suspended above herself, a spectator. She sees the talisman burning bright, gathering force to seize its moment - awaiting the lyric. Tori silences her thoughts and pictures the turntable of the record player in Miss Barrow’s secret room. The soothing hiss and crackle of the needle to the vinyl. Then, in her mind, she hears it - the trigger. That voice. Echoed. Miles away - but for a moment, the only sound in the universe.
Don’t know why there’s no sun up in the sky.
Stormy weather - since my man and I ain’t together.
Keeps raining - all the time.
And - FOOM! Like the pulse of a star exploding, a wave of light emanates outward in a ripple from Tori, freezing the moment in suspended animation. Every stalk of corn, every falling iron shingle, every hummingbird wing - stands absolutely still. Only Tori moves - but barely.
Her hand throbs with pain. She feels as if her bones will snap as she attempts to open her palm. What just happened? It takes her a moment to regain her bearings, all the while, time ticking... Twenty, nineteen... this thing in my hand, it burns... Seventeen, sixteen... She remembers nothing for a moment. Nothing save one detail. She remembers a boy. Her exact age. A smile. A feeling of deep connection between the two. The only boy who ever gave her that feeling. He was awkward and kind - and important. Why was he important? They had words. They exchanged items. Important? Important. At the Clarksville Exit on I-65. Why does my palm hurt? She glances down and sees a small imprint burned into the small of her hand. The design from the talisman. Oh God, the hummingbirds.
Twelve, eleven...
Startled into remembering her mission, she stumbles without strength, gasping for air and out of the rubble, her ankle dragged behind her, trailing blood. She looks up at the cathedral. Ten, nine, eight - come on, Tori - get your wits about you - seven, six... She is up, weighed down with excruciating pain, but moving. The wings of the hummingbirds begin to slowly flinch, it is wearing off. Five, four... Tori is almost to the boundary of the cathedral - when the entryway collapses in a pile of iron and rubble. The way is now barred. There is nowhere to go. She hears the demonic thrum of the creature horde gaining strength - moments from flight. Panicking now, she looks about her. The cornfield. There is nowhere else to turn. She must hide in the cornfield. She forces herself to a sprint with a stutter, body screaming - but pressing on.
She hobbles, bruised and bleeding, bewildered but focused on her goal - and the buzz behind her becomes a fast-approaching roar.
She refuses to look back, but keeps toward the cornfield, her legs a fever. The sound is overbearing, pressing down upon her, but still she forges. No option that suggests survival - the spread of the poison within her making every move a punishment. She runs. Her mind races back and forth between two things: the thought that she has failed the world and the face of the boy from Tennessee.
She is caught, lifted up off the ground, carried into the sky by this throng of bloody evil. Higher and higher, tighter and tighter, piercing her, wounding her. Her arms pinned by her side. All she can do is scream. And then -
She is, for a moment, weightless. They have released her in mid-air. In the shock and cold of the October night sky, her breath is taken away. She unwittingly loosens her grip - and the talisman drifts just out of reach.
Wild-eyed, she grasps, clutching for it - but it disappears quickly in a swarm - a surrounding horde of the things seize her talisman. They finally have it.
Now, she falls - but not merely from gravity, for the mass changes direction, forcing her from behind, thrusting her downward like a lightning bolt - spiraling fast toward the cold, dark Indiana ground. Closer and closer. Certain death imminent, Tori finds solace only in the echo of a lonely alto singing in the back of her mind.
Keeps raining - all the time.
Next: Read "EVEREST & THE EXCEPTIONS" Chapter One PREVIEW: the horrific and thrilling continuation of Mark Steele’s upcoming fictional novel coming in October 2024.
Mark, this is an incredible beginning to what will be an epic story! Well done.
Hi Mark! Just making sure Inunderstood. I didn’t miss an episode before this, right?