End Times: Mayan Style (short story)

By A.M. Murray

Stan Drum doesn't really believe the Mayans predicted the end of the world on Dec 21, 2012. But that's the date he's picked for an adventure in outer space which will enable him to inherit a billion dollars in tontine money. Juanita Eck, a Mayan expert, and Tod her boyfriend are Stan's nemesis in the quest for the tontine money. Time Travel, Mayan lore and a Black Hole determine the outcome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.M. Murray
• Release date: Jul 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476453576

A.M. Murray

A.M. Murray was an immigrant to the USA after WWII, at age 3. He earned a Bachelor's degree in Psychology but then got drafted into the Army during the Vietnam era. He came home and bummed around the country a while, worked lots of jobs, went back to school, got a degree in Photojournalism with lots of grad work in Mass Media. Worked as video producer for a big company but was forced out due to office politics. He wondered if it was him or just his luck. He did some research and came up with a book, "The Best of Luck." Other books done or in the works reflect his experiences, interests -- "The Secret of the Serpent Mound," about death at the mysterious earthen effigy; "In the new Country," about immigrants on a dead end street and the possibility of deportation. "A Jekyl & Hyde Woman," about good versus evil, set in New Orleans.

Book preview

End Times: Mayan Style a short story of about 8,600 words.

Smashwords edition. Copyright 2012, A.M. Murray

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END TIMES: MAYAN STYLE

by

A.M. Murray

Geez Louise! Stan Drum says as he leaves the shelter of his hotel and looks at the black sky, the rain coming down in sheets. He puts up his umbrella and ventures forth, leaning against the force of the wind trying to blow him back, blow him over, a thick mist pelting his face. A swirling gust of wind comes along and almost yanks his umbrella it out of his hand but he holds on while it turns inside out from the force of the blast and pulls him out into the street. He gets soaked in an instant. Damn! exclaims Stan. And thinks, at least it’s warm water. Unusually warm for December first. Global Warming or Global Disaster? Whatever. It won’t matter to him soon enough. But the hurricane they said was coming up the coast must be getting close. They might even have to evacuate the city. He’d better get to his meeting and say what he had to say before that happened.

Stan signals a taxi coming his way, sloshing through deep water, sending up fountains of side spray. He steps back to avoid it but it still catches him around the knees. The taxi stops and Stan steps into ankle deep water, grabs the door handle, opens it and tumbles in.

Whew, it’s murder out there, he says as he deposits his soggy self in the back seat, wiping water from his face, arranging himself.

The dark- faced, turbaned and bearded driver turns halfway around and replies with a British Indian accent, Indeed it is sir. One can believe it might possibly be End Times indeed.

Yeah, he grunts, not wanting to discuss it, at least not with this rag-head. He doesn’t care much for foreigners. But what did he expect, the third world was alive and well driving cabs in New York City. At least the guy could speak English good enough. If you could understand him, with that stupid tongue twisting. mispronouncing accent.

He knew what the guy was talking about though. You could believe it was