The Plagues

By Joseph Foley

A brilliant but disturbed young man studying archeology discovers knowledge of the “Ancients” and attempts to put them to good use. But when problems arise he quickly loses all restraint and becomes a demon on earth. His student and assistant is the only person who can possibly restrain his actions and they quickly become mortal enemies.
Shelly is your average twenty-something adult who works a job she doesn’t care for, and lives a normal uneventful life...until an old high school acquaintance, Floyd, comes into town. Floyd just returned to the neighborhood, and pushed by her friend, Lyssa, Shelly invites him to a seemingly harmless dinner to catch up on each others lives. What Shelly doesn’t know is this dinner will change her life forever.
Shelly begins to learn things from Floyd about the ancient past and about the disappearance of an entire culture, and as she learns more she realizes she is in real danger and must use all of her knowledge to protect herself and her loved ones from the man who taught it to her.
With a mix of archeological fact and imaginative fancy the story unwinds in parallel in the present time and the late stone age. Pre-biblical legends are interwoven with alien visits and blended into an exciting mixture of intrigue, history, fantasy, and action that grips the reader into the story making this book one you just can’t put down until you finish reading it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joseph Foley
• Release date: Nov 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301045877

Joseph Foley

Joe Foley was born and raised, educated and married in St. Paul, Minnesota. He started nine businesses, a couple of them successful. He travelled across the US and Europe, started two businesses in Barcelona Spain. He wrote uncounted technical papers and spoke in technical seminars in many countries. During this period he also wrote numerous short stories and a couple of novels but had no time for publishing and promoting his writing. Finally, with a little more time available, the writing is getting some much needed attention. Two novels and a collection of short stories have been published and work is underway on the third novel.

Book preview

The Plagues

By

Joseph Foley

Copyright Joseph Foley 2011

Published at Smashwords

Prologue

Hey Bill, it’s gettin’ dark in here. Is there a storm comin’ in?

Not supposed to be, the bartender replied as he ambled toward the window.

What the hell? He shouted, startling both of his patrons off their chairs. It looks like bugs. They’re covering the windows. Millions of ’em.

Ow! one of the previously lethargic barflies exclaimed as he swatted at his arm. A goddam bee stung me. What the hell is goin on?

Yow! I just got stung. The other patron shouted. I’m gettin out of here!

Chairs skittered across the floor as the two unsteady men ran for the door flailing their arms at a growing swarm of stinging insects. Pulling the door open, the first one was hit by a wall of flying and crawling insects. Biting insects crawled up his legs. Stinging insects swarmed over his face and under his collar and up his pant legs. The pain was everywhere.

He stopped as if he had run into a concrete wall and was knocked to the ground as the second man, screaming and running with his eyes closed, crashed into him.

The second man tried to get up but the bugs were biting and stinging him everywhere. Screaming, he fell back in the doorway while more wasps and hornets stung him in the eyes and ears and down his throat as he gasped for breath.

The men struggled and fell over each other trying to escape the merciless attack but in a few seconds their ineffective struggles subsided to random twitches.

Meanwhile, the bartender ran for the rear door as the bees and hornets inside the bar stung him repeatedly. He reached the door and pulled it open just to run into a wall of insects matching the swarming mass at the front door. Instantly he was covered with bees, wasps and hornets stinging him on every spot they could reach with their stingers. Ants were biting his ankles and crawling bugs of every sort swarmed over his face and into his mouth and nose.

In seconds the bar was silent except for the angry buzzing of millions of insects. They swarmed to a table where four empty beer bottles were left by four very anxious patrons who had left just minutes before.

Then, as suddenly as the attack had begun, it ended. The insects crawled and flew about aimlessly until the found their way out of the building. In a few minutes the bar was as silent as a cemetery which it now resembled with three corpses on the floor.

Chapter 1 – Remembering Cone Head

Floyd Wayne Carpenter? Isn’t that the funny looking kid who went to high school with us? Shelly asked incredulously.

That’s the one! My first sale is to our old weirdo classmate, Lyssa answered. And I love it.

You’re being a little cruel aren’t you? Floyd was a little different from the rest of us, but I wouldn’t call him a weirdo.

You know, I always thought you had a thing for him. I think you were the only person in school who ever talked to him. All the other kids used to call him cone head, didn’t they?

"That’s ridiculous, I don’t remember ever talking to him for more than two minutes. And I still think it was really cruel of the kids to call him cone head. What does something like that do to a developing young person? Poor Floyd may have been scarred for life because of that thoughtless cruelty.

Oh, here’s our wine. A toast to your new career! Shelly took her glass of Chablis and held it high, May this be the smallest and slowest sale you make!

Shelly and Alyssa, two attractive twenty-something women, were celebrating Lyssa’s first sale since earning her license to sell real estate. In her conservative, well tailored, gray business suit, Shelly looked the part of the professional woman. Lyssa, while still looking very professional, was a little more relaxed in her black slacks and pale blue camisole under a cropped jacket.

Most of the men in the bar were very interested in the two good looking young women in the bar with no male associates. However, these two were clearly not interested in the men tonight. They had their own agenda for this evening and there wasn’t even a hint of a flirt to be seen.

So he actually bought the old Miller place? Shelly asked. That place is a beat up old wreck. I thought I heard talk about it being knocked down to make room for a Wal-Mart. Do you know anything about why he wanted it, or what he plans to do with it?

No, I was too excited about getting the sale to worry about what he’s going to do with the place. I do have his phone number though; maybe you could go out with him, get him drunk, and old Quasimodo will give you all of the gory details.

Lyssa, stop it! You’re being terrible. Besides, he didn’t have any deformities.

That was pretty bad wasn’t it, Lyssa said with a laugh. But he was always such a tragic person; the name seems like a good fit. I could easily picture him cowering in the gargoyles, peering out at the real world. Seriously though, he probably would love to talk to you again, and it could be really interesting for you. There was no mortgage on the sale; he paid the whole selling price himself. Even though it needs a lot of work, it is valuable property and it sold for a lot of money. Would you like his number?

I don’t care if he bought the whole city with his pocket change. But it would be fun to see him again and catch up on what’s happened in the last ten years. It sounds like he might have some interesting stories to tell. I don’t recall that his family had much money; it may have come from a surprising source.

Ha! I knew you had a thing for him, laughing, she copied Floyd’s telephone number onto a napkin and handed it to Shelly.

Looking at the number, Shelly asked, Isn’t this a long distance number? Where does he live now?

"Yeah, that’s a Milwaukee number. I don’t know where he lives except that it’s in the Milwaukee area. I think it must be on the north side because he gets here pretty fast when he comes up.

So anyway, I made my big sale and my new career is officially launched, now what’s new with you? Anything exciting?

Shelly stuffed the napkin into her purse and quickly forgot about it. Nothing, as usual. Work continues exactly as it has for the last six years. I’m really getting tired of Gilberts.

But you told me you got a promotion a couple of weeks ago didn’t you? That must be a little bit exciting.

"Yeah, I got the promotion, but it just meant more hours of the same work for a little more pay. I think they don’t want to give anybody a raise so they promote you when a raise would be due. It’s still the same old grind.

I’m thinking I’ll have to leave Fond du Lac to get into something more challenging and rewarding. Chicago at least, maybe New York. But I do like it here and I’ll hate to leave you and everybody else behind.

You could be selling real estate; that would be a big change. I know you’re smart enough to get your license easily. Who knows, we could have our own agency one day. Wouldn’t that be fun?

Maybe, then at least I could stay here in Fond du Lac. I wouldn’t have to move away from my home and family and friends. Let’s talk about it tomorrow; no more business talk tonight. Marge will be here any minute and we’re out to celebrate tonight.

- *** -

A few days later at the office, Shelly found the crumpled napkin in her purse and decided to call Floyd immediately before she forgot about it again.

She dialed the number and an unfamiliar male voice answered, Hello?

Floyd? Is this Floyd Carpenter? she asked.

Yes, this is Floyd.

Floyd, this is Shelly Pierce. I hope you remember me; I went to high school with you. I heard you bought a house back in the old neighborhood, and I thought you might want to get together for a chat.

Shelly! Of course I remember you. How nice to hear from you. I would love to get together, but I’m in Milwaukee and very busy this week, preparing to move up to Fond du Lac and all that. Could we make a date for next week?

Umm, ok. The word ‘date’ startled Shelly; she was thinking of a casual get together with a slightly odd old school mate and talking about old times. A ‘date’ with Floyd was the last thing on her mind.

What time would be best for you? Lunch? Dinner? She asked.

Let’s make it dinner, there’s a lot to catch up on, we haven’t seen each other for at least eight or nine years. Will Tuesday evening work for you?

Yeah, Tuesday evening is good for me.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been in Fond du Lac and I’m sure you know the area better than I do; why don’t you pick out a nice restaurant, a quiet one where we can sit and talk for a while.

Ok, Randall’s, out on Pike Road, would be nice. They won’t be very busy on a Tuesday night. We can stay and talk as long as we want. Shelly was careful to pick a restaurant where no one would be likely to see her with Floyd. She also wanted to reinforce the idea of staying there to talk. There would be no ‘going back to my place’ after dinner.

Ok, I remember Randall’s. I’m surprised it’s still there. Should we make it at seven?

I’ll be there at seven, Tuesday evening. See you there. Shelly noted the time and date in her calendar and quickly forgot about it.

- *** -

Tuesday morning, preparing for another busy day, Shelly was checking her appointments and saw the note about the meeting with Floyd. Her interest in meeting an old school mate who, even in her compassionate view of the world was a little weird, had waned considerably. She sat looking at the screen and struggling with indecision.

Floyd was a nice person and Shelly didn’t want to hurt him. After all, she had called him about getting together. Yet, he was kind of strange. In school, he had no close friends and very few people even spoke to him. She had talked to him frequently, but the conversations were always short interruptions in other activities. She had never had a real conversation with him.

‘Oh, what the heck,’ she thought, ‘It’s a public place, I’ll have my car there, and I can pay my own bill, I can always just leave if it gets difficult.’ The decision was made and she forgot about it for the rest of the day.

Driving home from work the tension about the coming meeting returned and continued to grow stronger as the meeting time neared. It was definitely an uncomfortable situation, but after giving her word, she was determined to follow through.

She struggled with choosing what to wear, and finally realized that she was just finding ways to put it off. She decided to wear her conservative, almost stern, plain blue business dress and practical, low heeled shoes. It would be dressy enough to be suitable for Randall’s and there was absolutely nothing sexy about it.

As her car slowly swung into the nearly empty parking lot, she noticed a man in a well tailored suit standing by the door facing away from her. While she couldn’t remember exactly what Floyd looked like, she was pretty sure this wasn’t him. He was tall and thin like Floyd but he was too well dressed. The last time she saw him, he was wearing old jeans and a rumpled shirt.

She parked the car and stared intently at him until he turned enough for her to see his face. As soon as the extremely high forehead became visible, she recognized Floyd. She took a deep breath, summoned up her courage, and opened the car door. As soon as she stepped out of the car, he recognized her and waved.

Walking toward her, he called, Hi Shelly! It is so nice to see you again. My goodness, you are even prettier than my recollection from school days.

Hello Floyd, she answered, extending her hand to him and ignoring the compliment.

Shelly was expecting to shake hands, but Floyd raised her hand to his lips and kissed it politely. He noticed that she was startled, and quickly reassured her, I have been studying in Europe for several years, and I guess I’ve picked up a few of their nicer traditions. Sorry if I startled you.

Oh no, don’t apologize at all. I was a little surprised, but it is a very nice tradition. I wish people still did things like that here. She answered as they walked into the restaurant.

Actually, they don’t do that much in Europe any more either. I just like it. It seems so much nicer than a formal handshake. They do kiss friends on the cheek when they meet them, but I thought that might be a little too much for our first meeting after all of these years.

Shelly was shocked at how this friendless outcast from high school had become an elegant and refined gentleman. Unfortunately, his appearance had not changed and the extremely high forehead still gave him the appearance that earned the ‘cone head’ nickname in high school.

He still had the same slightly crooked appearance, with his eyes not exactly matching, and he still wore the thick, heavy rimmed glasses that made a person think of the nutty professor. But his friendly demeanor and excellent manners were quickly washing away the trepidation she had been feeling earlier. This might yet be a pleasant evening.

When they were seated, Shelly asked, Tell me, where have you been and what have you been doing? Studying in Europe sounds exciting.

Well it’s probably not as exciting as you might be imagining. I’m afraid I missed most of the famous tourist sites. I have always been much more interested in studying archeology than in social or tourist activities, and I spent a lot of time there studying old, forgotten texts in old, dusty libraries.

What college did you go to and what’s your degree in?

I did my undergrad work here at the University of Wisconsin and got a bachelors degree in archeology. Then I went to The University of Malta for my masters in Middle Eastern Archeology, and I recently finished my PhD in Ancient Middle East Archeology with my thesis on the effects of the civilization of the Ubaidians.

Wow, I was thinking more in terms of a BA from a nice school in London or Paris. I thought your reference to archeology was probably a hobby. You are a serious student aren’t you?

Yes, more serious than you might imagine, He answered somewhat mysteriously. And how about you, what have you been doing?

I’m afraid my life has been rather boring after hearing your story. I went to UW in Madison and got a BA in business then came back home and went to work for Gilbert’s in their marketing department. That’s it, She answered.

Don’t apologize, that’s an excellent achievement. It certainly puts you ahead of most of the world. I would hope you’d be happy with that success. Do you have a husband and family yet?

No, no serious relationships at all. I’ve focused on work ever since graduation. I just work and sleep, nothing more exciting than a night out with the girls once in a while. I am getting very tired of the routine and I may be looking for a change soon. I’ve been thinking about a move, maybe Chicago or New York. How about you, have you had any chance to make any attachments in your life?

Laughing, Floyd answered, No, this dinner is the first time in my entire life that I went somewhere for the sole purpose of socializing. Most people don’t want to associate with me.

He said that in such a matter of fact manner that Shelly was left speechless.

Oh, please, don’t feel sorry for me, he told her, I have never done anything to encourage any social association. I very much enjoy being alone and studying. You were the only person I can remember who ever talked to me in any social context. I felt a little more comfortable about coming here and meeting with you than I would have with anyone else.

Shelly was flattered but also a bit frightened. Floyd’s comments reinforced the ‘weird’ aspect of his personality that everyone remembered. Their food arrived and provided a welcomed break in the conversation. ‘This is the kind of person who could become a stalker,’ she thought as she quietly began to eat her dinner.

Floyd’s demeanor belied any idea of the weird or unusual characteristics that his appearance suggested. His table manners were perfect, his choice of wine was excellent and his conversation was intelligent. If he only had a more normal physical appearance he would fit anyone’s definition of a normal, or rather, highly desirable person.

As she picked distractedly at her filet, she thought, "Why should a small offhand comment about lacking a social life bother me? I complain about things like that to Lyssa all the time."

Moving to a new subject, Shelly asked, So Floyd, what are you going to do here in Wisconsin? There certainly isn’t much Middle Eastern Archeology to study here.

Laughing, he answered, "Yes, you’re quite right, but I brought it back with me. I had an uncle in Milwaukee who owned an auto salvage business, and when he died he left everything to me. He always lived so frugally that I thought he was poor. In fact, he invested almost everything the business earned, and lived like a pauper. Consequently, I inherited a substantial amount of money.

"While I was still overseas, I acquired some very old materials that have been essentially ignored by most archeologists, but, in my opinion, have great value. Now that I have a place to keep them, I am having everything shipped back here where I can study them at my leisure. I can do nearly all of my studies here in the quiet, small town environment of Fond du Lac.

Many of the items will be arriving next week. Perhaps you would like to stop by one day and see them? he asked hopefully. It really is quite an impressive collection.

Oh, I don’t know, I’m a marketer not a scientist. I specialize in working with live people, not dead ones, she answered with a laugh.

Then you really should come over. I think you will be surprised at how interesting it can be. I know I’m a dry, academic archeologist, an octogenarian at the age of twenty eight, but some of the things I have found have very modern relevance. I have made some discoveries that would be exciting to any person, especially a bright person like you. It isn’t all technical studies of dusty old potsherds.

The offer sounded intriguing and seeing these old remnants of an ancient, mysterious civilization with someone who could actually explain what they represent might be interesting. Shelly never was very excited about spending her evenings in bars and she loved visiting museums, although usually