See Them Dead (Haunted From Without - Book One) A Chilling Psychological Thriller

By Ian C.P. Irvine

Following the international success of Haunted From Within, Haunted From Without is the latest thought-provoking medical thriller from Ian C.P. Irvine.

This Free ebook is Part One of Two Parts. To conclude the story, readers must source and read Book Two in the series.

Based upon a real life mystery, Haunted From Without will make you question the meaning of life itself. It will shock you, scare you and have you turning the pages until late into the night.

Haunted From Without is a unique combination of medical thriller, conspiracy thriller, mystery, detective fiction and ghost story.

With several stories that twist and turn together, culminating in an ending you will not predict, Haunted From Without will keep you riveted to your Kindle for hour after hour.

Who are 'the Others'? Why are an increasing number of people throughout the world developing the ability to see and speak with the dead?

Why have a farmers' guild from Iowa secretly enlisted the help of Scottish reporter Peter Nicolson? If they are correct, is the world stumbling blindly into a disaster that could threaten the survival of the human race? And what is contained within the missing 'GM File' that threatens to destroy some of the world's most powerful companies? To what lengths will these companies go to prevent Peter Nicolson uncovering the truth and publishing it to the world?

Who has kidnapped the Scottish teenager Debbie McCrae? Will she manage to escape, or will she be killed by her mysterious abductor?

What is the secret that Susie's dad tried to tell her as he died? And who is the mysterious Timothy?

Can Peter Nicolson help stop the biggest terrorist attack the world has ever seen and prevent the destruction of the city of London?

Will Peter Nicolson meet Maciek, his nemesis and erstwhile saviour? And if he does, who will survive?

To find the answers to all these questions and more, download Haunted From Without today, find a comfortable seat, and forget about doing anything else for the next few days!

Happy Reading!
(But don't switch the light off... you don't know who might be watching you!)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ian C.P. Irvine
• Release date: May 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310989445

Ian C.P. Irvine

Ian Irvine was brought up in Scotland, and studied Physics for far too many years, before travelling the world working for high-technology companies. Ian has spent a career helping build the internet and delivering its benefits to users throughout the world,...as well as helping to bring up a family. Ian enjoys writing, painting and composing in his spare time. His particular joy is found in taking scientific fact and creating a thrilling story around it in such a way that readers learn science whilst enjoying the thrill of the ride. It is Ian's hope that everyone who reads an Ian.C.P.Irvine novel will come away learning something interesting that they would never otherwise have found an interest in. Never Science fiction. Always science fact. With a twist.The first of Ian's novels is a Genetic Conspiracy Thriller which explores the world of Stem Cell Research and encourages us all to ask some very searching questions about the advances that science is making, and how much we, or others, should let it affect society. A contemporary adventure, "The Orlando File" takes the reader around the world and back, and creates a unique moral dilemma that the reader cannot help get embroiled in: at the end, the reader must ask themself, what they would do in that situation?"The Orlando File" asks many questions, one in particular being, will advances in technology that extend our lifespans be limited to the rich and only those who can afford it? This is one of the main questions that is asked in the new Justin Timberlake film "In Time". "The Orlando File" does not give an answer to these questions, but encourages the reader to debate the question and provide their own response.

Book preview

See Them Dead

(Haunted From Without -Book One) :

A Chilling Psychological Thriller

By

IAN C.P. IRVINE

Published by Ian C. P. Irvine at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 IAN C.P. IRVINE

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright observed 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 without the prior written consent of the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedicated to my sister for just being her.

And to Moira and to all others like her who set such an example and inspire the rest of us.

Other Books by Ian C.P. Irvine

..

Haunted From Within

21st Century Pirates Inc: A Time Travel, Medical Thriller

The Orlando File: A Genetic Conspiracy Thriller.

The Crown of Thorns: A Genetic Conspiracy Thriller Adventure

London 2012 : What If?

The Sleeping Truth : A Romantic Medical Thriller

Alex Meets Wiziwam the Wizard

Please note: This is the first book in a two part series. The story begins with Book One, carries on seamlessly and concludes with Book Two.

Chapter 1

Susie's Story

August 3rd 2015

The phone rang at 4.28 a.m., the personalised ringtone of the first few bars of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony drumming its way through Susie's dream and bringing her swiftly to consciousness.

Reaching out to pick it up, she glanced at the clock, and the significance of the red digits blinking back at her made her heart quicken: almost 4.30 a.m., the dying time. A call at this time of the morning could only be bad news.

I'm sorry to disturb you so early, but may I speak with Miss Susie Morgan? the woman's voice enquired gently.

Speaking, Susie replied, lifting herself up into a sitting position.This is Susie.

Hello Susie. The woman's voice changed, her tone becoming gentler.

This is Claire Johnson, from the care home in St Andrews where your father is living. I'm afraid I have some bad news for you . . . your father had a heart attack a few hours ago, and he was rushed to the hospital . . .

There was a pause, and Susie waited for the woman to utter those next few words, telling her that her father had died.

Susie, your father is not well. You need to get here. As soon as you can . . .

There was another pause, giving Susie a moment to digest the information.

Susie swallowed, holding back the tears.

Susie, I'm standing outside the room your father is in. He would like to speak to you.

With the phone pressed hard against her ear, Susie heard the sound of a door opening, a few footsteps, a pause, and then the faint sound of her dad's voice.

Susie . . . It's your dad . . . the voice whispered.

His voice was weak, and he coughed lightly after he spoke.

It's me, Dad! I'm here! I can hear you. Dad. I love you. I love you! the first tears began to flow and her voice trembled.

Susie, . . . I'm dying. I don't think I have much longer, darling. Susie, I love you. You know that, don't you? I love you.

Yes, Dad. I know. And I'm coming to be with you. I'll be there soon, Susie replied, climbing out of bed and fumbling for her clothes with her free hand.

"Soon, Susie, make it soon . . . There's something I want to tell you . . . No, not yet, I can't come yet, I need to wait to see Susie. I can't come yet . . . Susie, I love you. Get here soon . . . "

What Dad, what did you say? Where are you going? Susie asked, not understanding everything her dad had said.

Susie, it's Claire again. I took the phone back.

What was Dad saying? Where is he going?

Don't worry, Susie. Your dad is waiting to see you. He was just talking to the Others. It's normal . . .

What others?

Susie, I'll explain when you get here . . . but hurry. Please. I don't think there will be much time.

Chapter 2

St Andrews Community Hospital

Scotland

It was just after six o'clock in the morning when Susie walked into the room in which her father was lying, his eyes closed, and an oxygen mask strapped to his face. Fighting back the tears, she had driven as fast as she could from Edinburgh, trying to stay calm and not crash the car.

She hadn't yet managed to get hold of her fiancé Peter to tell him what was happening, but he was probably still out and about somewhere in Iowa in the United States, not watching his phone, and oblivious to the nightmare that was beginning to unfold itself around Susie. If only he had been there. She needed him now, and would probably need him more in the hours to come.

Her father's eyes were shut, but the nurse had said that he was still conscious, and that she should take his hand and talk to him.

On the other side of the bed, a bank of electronic machines pulsed, bleeped and hissed, measuring and displaying his heart beats, and feeding him with life-giving oxygen.

Susie looked at the display. Her father's heart beat was slow, the little green line traced by the monitor showing uneven peaks and troughs, not like the regular, steady ones you normally see on hospital programmes on the television.

Susie swallowed.

This was not happening.

She stepped closer, sat in the chair beside her father and reached out and took her father's hand.

Dad. It's Susie. I'm here. Dad. I'm here.

Her father's eyes blinked open, and his head turned towards Susie's voice.

Lifting up his other hand, he took the face mask off, and smiled at his daughter.

Susie . . .

He squeezed his daughter's hand, and coughed.

There's something I have to tell you Susie. Something important . . .

His voice was quiet, and the words were slurred as he spoke, but Susie understood him.

She moved a little closer.

I'm listening Dad. But maybe you shouldn't speak. You should save your strength.

No. Susie. I have to tell you. I'm dying, I know I am, and I don't think there is much time.

Susie sniffled, and began to cry.

Her father let go of her hand, and reached up and caressed Susie's face, his fingers gently tracing the contour of her cheek.

Don't cry, little Susie. I'm not scared. I'm ready. It's my time.

Susie took hold of her father's hand, and kissed it, wiping her tears away with her other hand.

Her father started as if to speak again, but then his eyes glazed over, and he seemed to look away over Susie's shoulder.

Please . . . , her father asked, as if to someone behind her. Can I have another minute? Just another few moments with my Susie?

Susie turned her head and followed her father's gaze, expecting to see someone else, perhaps a doctor, who may have entered the room without her noticing.

But there was no one there.

She turned around to face her father, and was met by his smiling face.

I'm sorry, Susie. I have to go. They are waiting for me. And they can't wait any longer.

Who's waiting?

Your grandfather, and your grandmother. And your mother . . . and Timothy.

Susie glanced around over her shoulder again, holding her father's hand a little tighter.

Dad, there's no one . . . , she started to say, but turning back to her father, the words evaporated before she could finish.

Her father was smiling at her. Studying her. There was a sparkle in his eye that she hadn't seen for many years.

I love you Susie. Her father said.

And then he closed his eyes, and passed from this world to the next.

Susie didn't notice the doctors coming into the room, switching off the beeping alarm that emanated from the wall of flashing lights, and which had heralded the last beat of her father's heart. She didn't respond when the nurses said something to her, quietly. And she didn't acknowledge them when they left her alone in the room with her father, his eyes closed, his face peaceful and now free of stress.

The tears began to flow quicker now, the emotion that she had bottled up for the past few hours bursting forth and engulfing her.

Resting her hands upon his, Susie wept. She didn't know how long she cried for, but it must have been quite a while. When her tears eventually dried up, she looked at the clock in the room above her father's bed, and saw that it was 7.14 a.m.

She sat looking at her father, remembering him, and the times they had spent together growing up. She started to cry again, then slowly, very slowly, the tears began to abate.

Leaning forward, she kissed her father on the forehead, stroked his cheek, smiled at him, and then turned and walked out of the room.

Her father was gone. She would never speak with him again. And except for Peter, she was alone in this world.

As things would turn out, she was wrong on all counts.

Chapter 3

Ames, Iowa

U.S.A.

1 a.m. Central Standard Time (CST)

Peter opened the door to his motel room and stepped through into the small, musty room beyond. He was exhausted. He had been driving for hours, down endless roads that stretched from one horizon to the other, and although his pickup truck was automatic and the driving was easy, it was mentally tiring.

On top of that, he had spent most of the day trudging across farms, visiting corn fields where the crops were failing, and the soil was dying. He'd taken over two hundred and twenty soil samples, all of which were now labelled and packed in the heavy suitcase that he lugged with him into the room from the Dodge Dakota parked outside.

As he shuffled through the door, he bent down to pick up an envelope that had been stuck under his door, tossing it onto his bed to read later.

Putting the suitcase in the corner, he kicked off his shoes and lay back on the mattress.

What a day.

An incredible day.

A scary day.

He'd been in America for over four days now, driving around from one corn farm to another, trying to uncover the truth and doing his own research into what could possibly be the biggest story this year.

A story which most of the local farmers were too scared to talk about, and at least three would never be able to: death has a knack of silencing people very effectively.

Standing up, he crossed to the fridge, pulled out a cold bottle of non-alcoholic Coors and flipped the lid off. Peeling off his sweaty clothes he walked through to the shower, and stood underneath the cold, refreshing curtain of water, sipping his beer and thinking about what he had learned that day.

All the farms he had visited were facing bankruptcy. If not this year, then the next. And all were using corn from one of two suppliers. Genetically modified corn. Corn which, in theory, and according to the advertising, was supposed to produce bumper crops and record profits, and was designed to grow and thrive in the farming conditions of the Corn Belt of America, free from insect infestation.

Except, as with anything that seemed too good to be true, it wasn't.

The GM crops that the farmers had grown had turned out to need as much care and treatment with expensive pesticides as any other crop they had grown. True, harvests in the first few years had been great. But then the insects, which the GM crops had been designed to repel, adapted, and became resistant. And diseases, which had not seriously affected the crops before, began to threaten them increasingly more. By the fifth year, harvests were down.

And that's when the new problems began.

Peter was an investigative reporter for the Scotsman, one of Scotland's top newspapers. Since his reports on Cellular Memory and the exposé of SP-X4 - a rogue stem-cell based treatment for patients of organ transplants, had gone global two years before and been carried in most of the top papers throughout the world, Peter's reputation and career had blossomed.

Peter's trip to the Corn Belt in the Midwestern United States had come about as a result of a chance meeting in a bar in Edinburgh in Scotland. He had been visiting the Royal Highland Show in June, where farmers got together from all over the world, when he had been approached by a farmer from the U.S. and invited to join him for a pint of beer.

Mr Nicolson? the large American had said, stretching out his hand. The name is William Ralston. I recognise your photo from the papers. I read your research on SP-X4. You helped my family, although you won't know it. My wife is a transplant patient, and was taking SP-X4 too, which is why I took such a keen interest, and remember you so well.

A conversation had followed, including the invite to a drink, and soon William Ralston and Peter Nicolson were the best of friends.

So, I'm guessing you are a farmer? Peter had inquired. I mean, almost everyone here is, or are at least in some way connected to the farming industry.

You'd be right, Mr Nicolson. I am. I own a farm in Iowa. About 500 acres. We farm mostly wheat and corn and raise cattle and chickens.

500 acres? That's large, isn't it?

Above average. We do well. Or at least we used to.

Peter sipped his beer. The recession?

No, genetically modified food.

And so the conversation had begun.

Peter listened as William summarised the past years, highlighting the bumper years of crops, and the substantial profits that had been made. Then his face had become more serious, and he told Peter of the recent poor harvests, and the fears that his farm was dying. That the soil was contaminated. That the crops were no longer growing, GM or natural crops.

Which is why I am here. I'm the leader of the local farmers' guild, and I've come here to learn more about the issues you are facing in Scotland, and in England, regarding GM foods. I'm hoping to buy some seed too. We need fresh stock, and seed sales in the U.S. are becoming increasingly dominated by only one or two players, neither of whose seeds grow in our soil anymore.

The more the American spoke, the more Peter's senses told him that there was something important here, a significant story waiting to be uncovered.

Drinks had led to a meal, and by the time Peter and William parted later that night, they had swapped email addresses, and Peter was on to a new story.

The timing couldn't have been better. Scotland was now involved in a huge political debate about Genetically Modified crops, and with its recent, increasingly devolved powers from the British Parliament in Westminster, the Scottish Assembly was trying to decide whether or not to ban GM foods from Scottish soil, or to allow them in.

Only last week, one of Peter's colleagues had got an article dedicated to the GM discussion on Page Five, but Peter could sense something larger here: a headline article for Page One.

In the weeks that followed, Peter had digested everything he could on the GM debate. And what he learned had shocked him to the core.

On the face of it, the motivation to produce genetically modified crops was pure and simple: to produce more food.

But the deeper he dug, the more he learned, and the more sinister the debate became.

Peter had stayed in contact with William. Almost a year had passed now, and during that time Peter could sense that William and the farmers he represented were getting more desperate as the months passed.

The crisis they were facing was deepening.

Strangely, the press and the world media did not seem to be covering their plight.

In July, William had called Peter one day while he was at work in the offices of the Evening News, where he was working at the time. There had been a development. One of the other farmers in Iowa, who had become increasingly outspoken and verbal on the plight of U.S. farmers and who was posting his personal experiences online, had been found dead. Officially it was suicide. Others thought