Sunfall: Episode 1

       Tim Meyer, Pete Draper, & Chad Scanlon / Horror / Science Fiction
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Sunfall: Episode 1
Episode 1

Tim Meyer, Chad Scanlon, & Peter Draper

Copyright © 2014 Tim Meyer/Chad Scanlon/Peter Draper

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Also by Tim Meyer:
Demon Blood: Enlightenment
Demon Blood: Gateways
The Thin Veil
In the House of Mirrors
Less Than Human
The Lemures (A Short Story)

Also by Peter Draper:
Sacrifice & Surrender (A Short Story)



Like most terrible things, it came without warning. Some called it “The Cleansing,” while others claimed it to be Hell on Earth. Whatever it was, there was perhaps no better name than, “The Big Burn.” Others preferred “The End of Days”, for no one would ever step foot in the light again. No one knew if it would ever end, but they never forgot how it began.


Over the whirling sound of the Jeep's A/C fan, Samuel Wright glared at his cell phone vibrating in the cup holder next to his coffee. He was certain he knew who it was and what she wanted. With one hand gripping the steering wheel, he reached for the Styrofoam cup and took a long swig. Almost instantly, the tension in his muscles disappeared as the taste of hot hazelnut flavor flowed over his tongue. When he was finished, he tossed the cup onto the passenger's seat floor along with other empties from past mornings. With a long, deep breath, he calmly picked up the phone and placed it next to his ear.
“Are we going to be civil this time?” Sam asked.
The man on the other end laughed. “Um, aren't we always?”
“What? Who—” Sam started, staring down at the caller I.D. As he did so, the Jeep bounced over a large pothole in the freeway, and lurched. With both hands, he quickly straightened the wheel. “Shit!”
“Sam? You okay? It's Brian.”
“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he said, pinning the phone against his shoulder. “Thought you were Brenda when I picked up.”
“You may wish I was after you hear what I'm about to tell you.”
“Christ. What happened now? Sherry lock herself in the maintenance closet again?”
“Not quite.” There was a brief pause as Brian readied himself for the words to come. “Chris Atkins got into an argument with a customer this morning.”
“That's not news, Brian. Kid's a prick. We all know tha—”
“He punched the guy in the face; cleaned his clock pretty good.”
Cutting across three lanes of traffic, Sam brought the Jeep to a screeching halt. “Are you shitting me?”
“Not this time, I'm afraid.”
“Goddammit. Does HR know about it?”
“Yup. Told me I have to send him home for the day. No shit.”
Sam banged his hand against the steering wheel. “What else did they say?”
Brian huffed into the phone. “Said he has to be terminated. And the store—”
“Manager has to be the one to do it,” Sam finished.
“Bingo, Daddy-O.”
Sighing deeply, Sam slumped in his seat thinking about what he'd say and how he'd say it. Shaking his head, a nervous grin stretched across his face. Having to show one of his employees the front door might be one of the best conversations he'd have in months. Hell, the thought of being screamed at by someone other than Brenda was almost enough to make him want turn around and get it over with that very moment. But, as quickly as that thought entered his mind, it gave way to the memories of when he had done such things, the arguments he found himself trapped in time and time again. Her vicious words repeated in his ears without any way to silence them. He wondered if Chris could be anywhere near as wretched as she had been over the years.
“Sam? You there?”
“Tomorrow. We'll do it first thing in the morning.”
He tossed the phone back on the passenger's seat, and cranked up the air conditioning to its highest setting.


Wiping the sweat from his brow, Sam impatiently pressed the doorbell in rapid succession. As he waited for someone to answer, he glanced upward at the cloudless sky. The sun burned brightly, reddening his neck with each passing second. He shook his head as he recalled the weatherman's predictions. For once, the forecast was actually accurate. The weather application on his cell phone confirmed it; 103 degrees. He scrolled through the rest of the week, each day displaying triple-digit figures.
I wonder if they sell sunscreen by the gallon, he thought.
Just as Sam reached for the bell again, the front door swung open. A tall man with glasses answered, wearing extremely short shorts and a cut-sleeve tee, sporting wet armbands that were wrapped around both wrists. He clutched a tennis racket in his right hand.
“Look who decided to show up,” he said, grinning amiably.
“Hello, Robert,” Sam said through gritted teeth. “Always good to see you.”
“Oh for God's sakes, Sammy,” he said, slapping Sam on the arm. “When are you going to start calling me Bob?”
Never, fuck-face.
“I'll tell everyone you're here.”
“Thanks, Robert.”
Stepping inside and into the comfort of the cool air, he watched Bob disappear down the hallway. He gazed at the sparkling chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Ascending the spiral staircase, he wondered why anyone would pay so much for something so trivial. When he reached the top, he stared at Brenda and Bob's wedding photos, clenching his fists. The paradisal backdrop in the honeymoon photos made him want to spit, but he refrained from doing so.
Relaxing himself, Sam moved away from the wall of photographs, down the hallway, and stood before the first of many doors. Gently, he knocked.
“Hey, cupid,” Sam said, pushing open the door.
“I told you to stop calling me that,” the girl said. “I'm twelve now.”
“So I've heard. You almost ready?”
“Do I have to go?” she whined.
“Dana, you love the water park. Your mother and I took you when you were little. You never wanted to leave.”
“Yeah, but that was different,” Dana said. “That was when things were...”
“Things were what?” Sam asked.
Dana shrugged. “Nevermind.”
Sam nodded slowly. “Get ready. We're leaving in five.”
She groaned softly before skittering past him, into the bathroom.
With a sigh of his own, Sam moved down the hallway to the next door. Again he knocked, entering without waiting for a response.
“Tammy is such a whore,” the girl sitting on the bed said. Her laptop rested on her skinny thighs. She waved Sam away while arching her eyebrows. Her nose was one great big wrinkle. When he didn't leave immediately, she flapped her hand as if a fly were pestering her. Sam leaned against the doorway, ignoring his oldest daughter's request.
“Hold on a sec, Nikki.” She placed the phone against her chest. “Can I help you?”
“We're leaving in five. Finish up. I'll meet you downstairs.”
“I'm not going,” she said.
“Yes you are, Becky. Tell your friend you'll call her later.”
“I'm eighteen, Dad. I don't have to listen to you anymore.”
“Well, if you want help paying for your college tuition, I suggest you listen.”
For a moment, it looked as if she was going to ignore him and resume her call. Slowly, she raised the phone to the side of her face. “Nikki, I have to go. I'll text you later.” She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed.
“Thank you.”
“You know, Bob would be more than happy to pay for college. You know, in case you can't afford it.”
“Get ready. We're leaving in five minutes.”
“I really hate you.”
“Just like your mother.”
After leaving Becky's room, he stopped at the last door on the left. This time, he entered without knocking.
“You're not going to fight me, are you?” Sam asked.
The young man glanced at his father over his thick text book. “No,” he said, returning to his studies.
“What are you reading now?”
“What kind of science?”
Flipping the page, the kid replied, “Physics.”
“Oh right. Physics. The study of...”
“Natural science,” the boy answered.
“Natural science. That's pretty cool. Is that what you're learning in school?”
“Do you really care?”
The kid had a point.
“You ready to go, Matty?”
“I'll be down in five.” His father began to disappear. “Hey, Dad?”
“Maybe we can toss the football around when we get there?”
Sam squinted. “At the water park?”
Matty shrugged. “Just a thought.”
“Son, do you even own a football?”
Matty lowered his head. “No. It was... just a... thought.”
“We'll pick one up on the way,” he said with a laugh.

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