The Code: Fall of Evil

By M.E. Piccirillo

After Lieutenant Quentin Macgowan encounters an alien being, Loriga, in a safe room beneath the station. Her one mission, he is told, is to deliver him to the gathering. However, as he and his crew of five, along with seven others, journey north to Canada to usher in the new world. Quentin remains suspicious of Loriga's intentions, and continues to question the ultimate fate of the human race.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.E. Piccirillo
• Release date: Aug 13, 2010

Book preview

THE CODE

FALL OF EVIL

by

M.E. Piccirillo

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

M.E. Piccirillo on Smashwords

The Code

Fall of Evil

Copyright © 2009 by M.E. Piccirillo

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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To those I love and respect.

And those who have blazed

a trail toward a brighter future

with dedication, foresight,

resolve and courage...

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THE CODE

FALL OF EVIL

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PROLOGUE

As Lieutenant Quentin Macgowen raced his red Jeep Ribicon down the back streets he noticed a large crowd staring and pointing out over the bay. His first thought was what the hell are they looking at? Then he saw it! It was magnificent in scale. For it took up most of the eastern portion of the bay. Its silver circular shell gleamed from the sun, which danced off the polished surface, blinding anyone who glanced upon it without eye protection.

Quentin then caught sight of two of his firefighter’s standing outside the station. What’s going on Ted? he asked the taller of the two.

Don’t know yet Mac, still waiting on the order.

Ted Harris was his driver and a damn good one. He was also his best friend since the academy where they met. Harris hadn't any desire to become a lieutenant like Quentin. Driver was good enough for him. He didn’t want the responsibility that came along with the position. So, when Quentin was promoted and transferred out to the new station a block from Fishermen’s Wharf. Harris put in for an immediate transfer.

Has anyone seen or talk to the chief yet? Quentin inquired.

Harris just shook his head, but the other firefighter, Ed Browning said. Haven’t had a chance yet, but I know he’s here. I’ve seen him running around like the emblematic chicken with his head cut off.

Harris snickered, that sounds like the chief.

Chief Riley Hathaway had a reputation for being a bit high-strung. Most of the men could not fathom how he’d been promoted to a chief last year, but Quentin respected the fact that Hathaway had paid his dues and then some. Including a stroke brought on by an explosion in an abandoned building, he and his crew where battling while a lieutenant. For Quentin knew that most lieutenants liked giving orders and not getting involved in the actual fire. That wasn’t Hathaway’s liking, nor his, which is why Quentin respected and tolerated the somewhat neurotic chief.

Here comes the chief now! Harris announced.

Mac, glad to see you here, Chief Hathaway said and extended a hand out to him.

What’s going down, chief? Quentin asked as they shook hands.

Don’t know yet. I just need your guys to hold while I wait on the order.

From dispatch or higher up?

Hathaway shook his head. Can’t say Mac, been told zip, he said and shrugged.

Quentin pointed to the large silver object hovering over the bay. "Someone must have a clue what the hell that thing is out there?

Again Hathaway shook his head. It seems that no one knows anything.

Great, Harris snarled. Then what the hell are we doing out here!

Stand down Ted. Quentin ordered.

Mac, come on man. That thing out there could be some gigantic bomb for all we know. . .

That’s just it, we don’t know. Like the chief said we hold until otherwise ordered.

Hathaway pulled Quentin aside. I’m not getting a good feeling about this one Mac. He shook his head. Something is not quite right, but I can‘t put my finger on it.

Have any gut feelings about it? Quentin asked.

Nah, I was hoping maybe you might.

Quentin gazed out at the large object and sighed. He gave the area a once over and locked his eyes onto Hathaway’s. Chief if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that was some sort of UFO out there.

Hathaway lit up a cigarette. I can always count on you to give it to me straight. I’ve gotten nothing this morning since my arrival here at fifteen past eight.

Not that I’m an expert, but you tell me what else it could be chief? I'm open to any other suggestions you might have.

With a smirk Hathaway said, Can’t think of anything else myself.

So where do we go from here? Quentin asked.

What else is there for us to do but wait on the orders. Hathaway squashed the half-smoked cigarette under his foot.

Then I suppose we wait. Quentin agreed with reluctance aware that his crew would not be too happy with the decision.

Now Quentin might not have been an expert on UFO’s. However, intrigued with the notion of their existence, he wrote an essay during his junior year in high school on the topic. The notion of UFO’s along with other un-explained phenomena was something his upbringing and faith afforded. The willingness to observe everything with an open mind. Even so, beyond the question of whether the object in the bay might be UFO was the profound feeling that a test of his faith awaited him.

*****

CHAPTER 1

He followed in his grandfather's footsteps against the elder Macgowan's wishes and became the fabled city by the bay's, most fearless and respected firefighter. After he was thrown through the back window by the tremendous impact of an oncoming semi-tractor trailer that struck their Ford Ranger. It was there as he sat on the shoulder bleeding and watched the firefighter's ferment attempts to free his parents from the burning truck. That twelve-year-old Quentin chose his life's profession.

He was married twice because neither of his wives understood his deep dedication and allegiance to the department. Both women felt better equipped to compete with another woman than the long hours he spent at the firehouse. For Quentin never turned down overtime. Even when his second wife's father died. Beverly attended the funeral surrounded by family and friends without Quentin beside her for moral support.

Quentin was a man of few words as was his grandfather. But, when he spoke folks listened because what he had to say was always profound. And too, just made plain logical sense. He didn’t believe in mixing words, unless he had something of real importance and meaning to share. Needless to say, those outstanding attributes made him well-regarded among his peers. That he had grown into manhood at a strapping six-two with dark wavy thick locks and intelligent green eyes oozing with profound wisdom. It is what made him most desirable to women regardless of age.

The fall with its crisp dawn air remained his favorite season. On his days off he loved to take long barefoot walks along the beach with his two year old husky, Jake. Where he'd get lost in the vastness of the early morning crystal blue waters of the bay. It was there he could leave all the ugliness of the world’s events behind and just be with his loyal companion and his faith. That same faith which helped him overcome the devastation of losing his parents in such a horrific manner.

It was the elder Macgowan, who introduced young Quentin to the Celtic faith of their Scottish ancestors. It was within this ancient creed that Quentin embraced the splendor of the natural world around him, and came to realize that everything had its place and reason. Life became much more bearable with the understanding that for every action, there would be a reaction. That what you put out into the world was what you could expect in return.

Elder Macgowan spoke of eight ethical and moral codes of law for a religion he practiced with honor. Respect nature and all its creatures. Going about your daily activities living life with honor and conducting yourself as to garner the respect of others. Truth, loyalty, kindess and service to family, friends and the community. The skill to lead others with fairness, grace and courage withholding judgment.

It was those beliefs that his grandfather shared which shaped Quentin's decision making process. However, caused great hardship when it came to personal relation-ships. He'd be blown away by the physical pleasing attributes of a particular female. Yet, upon closer observation realize her beauty was fleeting because it was skin deep. That she lacked any real depth bored him in the end. So he'd find himself again alone and engrossed in his life's profession not as an escape, but a sanctuary for his soul. A life choice he held in the highest regard as did his grandfather before him.

Is that you Quentin?

Quentin kissed his grandmother’s cheek, and removed his lieutenant’s hat placing it on the empty seat beside the one he’d sat at since coming to live with his grandparents.

And how are you my grandson? She asked, pride beaming from every pore in her aged skin.

Some old thing Gram, he said taking his usual place at the kitchen table. Two shifts back to back again.

You look so tired grandson. You're working too many overtimes. She placed a piping hot plate of corn beef and cabbage in front of him.

Quentin lowered his head and inhaled. You’ve out done yourself again Gram, he said as the mouth watering aroma penetrated his nostrils.

Well, I just hope for your sake grandson that I haven’t spoiled you too much. She gave one of her warm, endearing smiles and and took her usual place opposite him. Maybe today you'll meet a nice girl who appreciates a good man? A woman who wouldn't mind pampering you. If a man was ever deserving that would be you.

I’m afraid it’s much too late for that, he teased and gave her a wink. I don’t believe I’ll ever find a woman equal to you in the kitchen or in any other way.

Now Quentin Gregory Macgowan the right woman is out there for you.

I would think after the last two attempts you might be inclined to discourage and not encourage me.

She slapped his wrist. Those two shouldn’t even count, after all they tricked you.

With raised eyebrows, he remarked, both, of them, huh?

Two charlatans if you ask me. She placed a hand over her mouth and giggled. My goodness if your grandfather were alive he’d scold me for speaking in such a way.

Nah, he’d respect your honest observation as always.

But do you?

He placed a large serving of corn beef in his mouth and savored it while mauling over her question I always res-pect you Gram, even when I don’t agree.

Oh, then I guess the proper question for me to have asked you is whether you agree with me?

Maybe regarding Amelia, but Beverly? He shook his head. No - Bev’s all right. We just didn’t jell is all.

Because she is selfish. . .

Now what would make you say that Gram?

She strolled over to the refrigerator, opened the door and poked her head inside. Now what on earth have I done with the ketchup?

You mean this ketchup? Quentin smirked.

She turned around and found him with an impish grin holding up an unopened bottle. My mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be I’m afraid, she said and sat back down.

Quentin handed her the ketchup, and winked. You’re as sharp as ever, and then some.

Of course you would say that to me. After all you’re not the type to hurt an old woman. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. You weren't raised that way, she said with a tender smile.

Both of them reflected as the ketchup made its way from the bottle onto her plate as if in slow motion. Let's talk some more about your second wife Beverly.

I’d rather not discuss it Gram because what’s past is past. He shrugged and gave her a smirk. Haven’t you always said nothing comes from dwelling on the past.

Yes, but our beliefs teach us that we can’t move on, unless we understand where we went wrong. She gave his hand a gentle pat. You wouldn’t want to make the same mistake a third time now would you?

Quentin stood up and with his free hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze on his way to the sink.

I’m sorry Quentin. After all you are a grown man, but sometimes I forget and think of you still as my young Quentin, she sighed. I suppose I always will.

I know that Gram, and it‘s all right. He said and continued to rinse off his plate, then hers.

What do you have planned for the rest of the day?

Go home and fetch Jake. Maybe head out to Crispy Field for one of our walks. He shrugged. Just take it as it comes as usual.

She stretched up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. You are your father’s son and grandfather’s pride. And for that my grandson, I do love you so.

He leaned into her four eleven frame with an adoring kiss. You'll always be my number one gal Gram.

She gave his forearm a playful slap. Oh go on - such a flirt just like your granddad.

Then his cell went off. The text message read, ‘We need you at the station right away – urgent!’

I've got to run Gram. I'm needed back at the station. He gave her cheek a quick peck.

But you just got off? she said and frowned. I'm afraid you're being worked to death.

He grabbed his keys off the table. Not to worry Gram, he assured with a lighthearted chuckle. I'll call you later.

*****

CHAPTER 2

Didn't think I'd be seeing you back here this morning after pulling two in a row Mac? Harris joshed.

That's makes two of us.

You really believe that thing could be UFO?

Quentin nodded. Yeah Ted - I believe it's possible.

I thought you'd say something like that, Harris said and smirked. Then he shot Quentin a more serious look. So – ah how long you suppose before we get the order?

Quentin glanced at Harris and was about to respond when his cell rang. He didn’t recognize the caller because it came in as an unknown number.

Quentin, it’s Bev. I just caught you on television.

Quentin glanced around and fixed his eyes on a local news station van. Don’t miss a trick now do they? he said with a disgruntled sigh.

Vultures, every last one of them, Harris sneered.

Quentin what is that thing out there? Should I be alarmed?

Don’t know yet Bev.

Do I need to be alarmed? she repeated. The panic in her voice was unmistakable.

At this point Bev it might be best to make plans to leave the city. Just keep a level head about it, he said keeping calm for her sake.

I’m worried Quentin. Are you?

Just be prepared, okay?

After a deep sigh she mumbled, you haven’t changed one bit?

He blew out a breath. Was I supposed to have Bev? Changed that is? Quentin waited through the silence for a few seconds. Look I don’t mean to sound rude and un-caring, but you understand I need to keep the line open?

Yes - I am sorry Quentin. She hesitated and thought about how awkward it must be for him after everything.

I can hear the panic in your voice. Bev, the last thing any of us needs to do right now is overreact.

I know that, but the talk on the television is. . .

Whatever you do, don’t listen to the garbage the newscasters are spewing right now, okay? Just do me a favor and keep yourself calm and wait for my call. I promise to call as soon as I know something.

What about your grandmother? Have you called her yet?

No, but that might not be a bad idea. Thanks for caring.

You know I’ve always cared for your grandmother Quentin.

Yes I do remember that about you.

She sighed. Well, I suppose I should let you go huh? she asked after a few uncomfortable seconds.

I think that would be a good idea.

Don’t forget to call me the moment you hear anything Quentin.

I said I would, and I will.

Yes I know you will. You have always been good about doing what you say you’re going to do.

Mr. reliable - that's me. . .

His tone was a bit sarcastic, but she brushed it off. What choice did she have? She had to know he still cared. That the pain of hearing from her again after all these months went deep. Let’s not forget the betrayal. Yes, Quentin felt as if she had betrayed him after being served divorce papers while on duty one year to the day of their marriage. Of course in her mind what else could he expect when she was left alone so often. What other choices were left to a woman made to feel second fiddle to her man’s profession?

Sure she wanted children too, but not at the expense of knowing that their father would be absent much of the time. She had experienced life with an absentee father, and was damned determined to make sure it never happened to her children. Quentin thought that her demands on him to be home more were inconsiderate regarding the depth of passion he had towards his line of work.

That's how he was raised. All or nothing if you want to be the best at what you do. And Quentin was determined to be the best at whatever price. Even if it meant losing what he thought was the love of his life at the time. For that was what Beverly Stiles had been. Of course, he didn’t realize it until she was gone, and he was left with an insatiable void in his heart.

Such was not the case with his first wife Amelia. Amelia had been a pure sexual allure at its peak. The moment his gaze locked onto her at a local bar. He was drawn to her black lustrous mane, which framed her hips and buttocks in a wild uninhibited gesture of desire. The way carried her six foot statue with the grace of a princess, yet the soul of a stripper. For Quentin, she was a mere trophy on his arm and nothing more. And that was okay with Amelia. because she too, thought of him the same.

They appeared to be the perfect match, or so everyone thought. Just two beautiful people sharing life's pleasures side by side, but the ride ended with the elder Macgowan's death. It was then that Quentin felt himself jolted back to his faith no longer content with a pure sexual union. For Amelia life would continue with or without him. And it didn't take her long to find a new sexual partner in the arms of a fellow firefighter, Sam Cheney. It was a betrayal that would not be so easy to forgive and forget.

Quentin filed for an immediate divorce. Realizing that his whirlwind marriage to Amelia had been nothing more than a temporary outing from the truths of life and its sometimes harsh realities. That beyond the threesomes and spouse swapping lie one unrelenting truth - the realness of life goes on and sooner or later catches up with you when least expected.

Life went on for Quentin as well because there would always be his one real passion, his profession. He met Beverly almost a year after his divorce was finalized. A young firefighter just starting out befriended him after working overtime at the station. He had an aunt who had just relocated to area. He thought Quentin might not mind showing her some of the more stimulating local sights. Quentin at first declined, but after much persistence reluctantly agreed.

When Quentin and Beverly first met it was an instant attraction on an intellectual level. Beverly like Quentin came from strong traditional family roots and shared with him a dedication toward her chosen profession. She was a self-confident woman who operated a catering business most of which consisted of weddings, baptisms and funerals. In fact, she remembered first meeting Quentin at his grandfather's funeral. He was of course distraught at the time and hadn't any memory of it.

You don't remember me she asked.

Quentin furrowed his brow, gave her the once over and then shook his head.

That's all right, after all it wasn't under the most pleasant of circumstances, now was it?

Not really no, he mumbled. Suddenly realizing where they'd met before.

You spoke so highly of your grandfather. Her smile was soft and genuine. You must have loved him a lot.

It was so much more than that. I respected him, Quentin said and reflected for an instant. He gave her a halfhearted smile. You see my grandfather had great respect for anyone as long as they respected themselves. He reflected some more. My grandfather believed that you were incapable of extending respect to others, unless you first respected yourself.

Very intelligent observation I would say, she said with a wide endearing smile.

Yeah, he was a very intelligent man.

So do you then?

Wide-eyed he responded, Do I what?

She smirked. You know, respect yourself enough to respect others? she asked with a lighthearted laugh.

You mean, respect you? he teased with a flirtatious look.

I suppose my question should have been more on the lines of, do you respect women?

What do you think?

I think your playing with me Mr. Macgowan, and I’m not so sure I like it!

I think you like it, or you would have asked me to stop, he said with a look that challenged her.

I suppose you’re right, but then again, I watched you with your grandmother. . .

And- He’s eagerness cut her short.

May I finish? she purred and batted her eyes.

I would like that, he said and apologized for interrupting her. Then he waved his hand gesturing for her to continue.

Thank you. As I was saying, after observing you with your grandmother, I came to the conclusion that you hold her in the highest regard. She paused and studied him for an instant. If that is true, then I would have to believe you hold women in general with equal regard.

Wow – now that’s a statement, he said and chuckled.

Why, do you disagree?

No, but you‘ve taken me by surprise is all. He challenged her with heart felt laughter.

She joined in his laughter and with an embarrassed smile remarked, Well, I just call things the way I see them.

I’m glad to know that about you, Beverly.