Godsign: The Rise of Zuhk: Godsign, #1

By Andrew Michael Schwarz

Welcome to Umberia, a land where magick is as potent as one can maintain interest, where dogheaded sailors traverse the vast seas, and where the gods sent a great flood that nearly destroyed the world. 

Enter Jake, Tessa and Charlie, three friends from California, who have no idea how they got there or what the strange disk like scars that have suddenly appeared 
on their backs mean. 

It isn't long before certain interests pray on the three "smoothskins" from elsewhere and put the friends to the test on whether or not to help with the crusade to kill the gods, and who to trust meanwhile. 

Jake is pretty sure that the minotaur in charge is trying to split them apart, but can't fathom why. His only hope lies in keeping his two friends on his side and discovering the significance of the scars on their backs, which the locals call godsigns, before it's too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Michael Schwarz
• Release date: Jul 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536520910

Book preview

Chapter 1

Downpour.

Jake knew it was going to be bad when a storm front the color of a day-old bruise moved in on the horizon, but he’d forgotten just how bad. Midwest storms could be so violent. It had, after all, been years since he had experienced one and, he hoped, years more before he would again. You just couldn’t believe how loud they could get after living on the West Coast.

He tried listening to AM radio in case of tornado warnings—that old-fashioned, but incredibly reliable method of hearing about life threatening doom looming half a mile from your doorstep, or bumper—but after an extensive search up and down the dial with nothing more than static and Gospel to fill the quiet, he opted for silence, and the sound of windshield wipers and gushing water.

Ah, well, it could be worse, right?

He was relieved the car was a rental, there was that, because driving his own car with the sun-rotted wipers and non-existent tire treads would have killed him. He was sure of that, yes sir. God, he had to do something about that car, but the money and the money and the money. He knew that he could probably get a new car. He had the credit, only thing was that he would have a car payment and full coverage insurance and then he would be looking at five hundred bucks a month, at least.

He sighed. That’s life, man. Make money, make more money, have it sucked out of you day after day so you can go on making money and making more money. Fucking circus.

He’d come to Minnesota—home to Minnesota—for a visit at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester. It’s where people went when they really needed answers no matter where else they lived in the country. He still didn’t know if his disorder fell under the medical category, or something with a meta prefix. All the doctors said it was medical, they just had no cure, and at the Mayo Clinic, just like at UCLA, he’d been shuttled between neuropsychology and the cancer ward.

He was tired of the runaround.

A perpetual sheet of rain prevented him from seeing just about everything, including the road. He could scarcely see the verge to say nothing of the middle line. It was both lucky and unlucky that he seemed to be the only car out tonight. Stupid actually, that was probably a better word for it.

The sky lit up just before some kind of bomb detonated in Heaven.

Angels bowling. That’s what his cousin said about nights like this. God’s bowling alley. He thought now, as he had then: if God really runs a bowling alley, we’re all fucked anyhow.

He decided that if he spotted a farm house, he’d pull off and ask to wait it out or, hopefully, spend the night. You could do that sort of thing in the Midwest. You couldn’t do it in California. People would be too suspicious. People there didn’t trust themselves enough to trust you. In the Midwest with its vast open spaces and harsh winters, life took on a different tempo and folks could tell if a man was sincere. They would stop to help a stranger or let him into their home if he needed it.

He entertained a little farmer’s daughter fantasy for about two seconds and then laughed at himself.

The windshield fogged up and he turned it from AC to heater. He was going back and forth with that, having a hell of time finding just what temperature would keep it clear. Of course, why bother? He couldn’t see anything anyway. He tried to sing, but detested the sound of his own voice. Sometimes he liked the way he could carry a tune, but not tonight. He was driving slowly now, just above thirty.

He didn’t find an inviting farm cottage with warm lights and buxom country girls, but he did see another car and a pair of headlights illuminating the side of a house, one with the distinct look of being unoccupied. The house and the car were off the highway, down a not-too-short gravel road, about an eighth of a mile.

Slowing to a near stop, he pulled off the highway. The water-filled potholes in the country road jounced him something terrible. Judging by the way the other car was just sitting there, he didn’t figure this was the owner or resident of the house, or if it was, they sure were debating going inside.

Maybe the place is haunted…or worse, bug infested. Bugs are way worse than ghosts.

He pulled up and parked beside the other car, a silver sedan that looked like it had seen better days—specifically the wheels sans hubcaps. He powered his window halfway down. At the same time, the driver of the other vehicle rolled her window down. He noticed her brunette dreadlocks straight away.

Hi! he called out over the insulating sound of falling rain.

Can you believe this bullshit out here? the woman inside said. You can’t see a thing out there!

Tell me about it, he agreed.

She laughed, and he noticed she had nice teeth. She was what you might call a handsome woman, bold features, not so slight like with traditional feminine beauty, but still very pretty. Because of the fact that she was a white girl with dreadlocks, he took her for a hippy. Not his thing, but he could live with it tonight. Sometimes all you want is to be in the presence of another human being, and you just don’t care about the faults and foibles of who you find.

Do you live here? he asked.

No, she said, curling her lips in a sort of lazy gesture the way people do sometimes. I’m just looking for a place to wait the storm out. Did you see that nuke of a lightning flash? I was like ‘I need to get the frick off the road.’ So then I’ve been sitting here wondering whether or not I should go in or what. Plus I have to go to the bathroom.

Another set of headlights appeared at the foot of the driveway. Looks like we’ve got company, Jake said, slightly annoyed with himself at his B-movie dialogue.

Hey, I’m going to roll my window up okay? No offense.

Oh sure.

The third car bounced through the rain up the long driveway. It was an SUV and, Jake guessed, too new to belong to the owner of the house. The driver pulled up behind them and for a moment the vehicle’s headlights shone brightly into the woman’s rear window, illuminating the interior of her car. It was filled from seat to ceiling with bags of stuff and piles of clothes.

The driver turned off the lights and stepped out. With an umbrella open overhead, he walked over to Jake’s window.

You live here? he asked. He looked to be about fifty-something with wire-rimmed glasses and a graying goatee.

No. We’re just waiting the storm out, Jake said.

Yeah, I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon. Anyone home you think?

Doubtful. Haven’t seen any lights on, he said.

Think we should try and go in? My name’s Charlie by the way. He shoved a dripping hand through Jake’s partially open window. They shook hands awkwardly.

Nice to meet you. I’m Jake. Then another detonation flashed, followed by another strike up in God’s low budget Eight-Lane Bowl and both Charlie and Jake cringed.

The woman in the other vehicle rolled her window down again. Why don’t we see if we can go in?

Agreed! said Charlie.

She was a ballsy chick. Volunteering to go into an empty house in the middle of nowhere with two unknown and possibly strange men? Of course, he knew he wasn’t much of a threat and the other guy, this Charlie with wire-rimmed glasses and a goatee, didn’t strike Jake as the Charles Manson type, despite their first name coincidence. You really could judge character if you just took a few seconds to size people up. Jake was more afraid of her, than of him.

When she got out of her car, he saw how tall she was and, speaking of farmers’ daughters, how well proportioned. She wore jeans, and a green T-shirt over a long-sleeved thermal underwear top. Her neck was slender and her shoulders broad. She was also busty and her hips and slender waist had the quality of an hourglass. Basically, he thought she was hot.

Jake stepped out of his car and felt a tight spasm in his right leg. It made him fall back against the wet metal of his vehicle as an onslaught of rain battered him.

You all right? the girl asked him.

Yeah, he said, reaching down to ineffectually massage his knee. It gets stiff when I sit too long.

Can I help you? she asked.

No worries. It’ll be fine after about five minutes. He forced himself to stand straight, not wanting to overly concern her. He hated the sympathy his injury earned him, especially from girls he was trying to impress. He had never been like that, one of those sympathy sponges he had known in school. He had always been (what was the word?), not macho. He had never been macho, but rugged. He never used to get injured. Used to being the operative statement. Now, things were different. Ever since his little problem, which was quickly turning out to be a huge fucking ordeal, had kicked in.

She stood eye level with him. He could not recall the last time he’d met a woman at eye level. He must have been staring because she glared at him through the rain and said, Haven’t you ever seen an Amazon before?

Sorry.

Don’t be. My name’s Tessa by the way. Come on, stop being Mr. Macho and let me help you. It’s raining out here!

She put an arm around his waist and all but scooped him up. His fingers would have tangled in her hair, when he slung his arm around her neck, if it had not been tied up in dreadlocks. He smelled her, a soft feminine scent mixed with a pungent body odor, which suggested that she did not shave her armpits. All of this combined, sending signals to his private parts, telling his whole body it was time to wake up. There was something ridiculously sensual about the idea of raw, unkempt beauty beneath her clothes.

....................

Charlie announced that he was going to just try the front door for starters and, since no one disagreed, he did. It worked. The door swung wide and they filed in. Of course it was dark and of course no one had a flashlight. The door opened up into a living room on one half and a dining room on the other. White sheets draped the place in the rough shapes of chairs and sofas. Mildew and dust drifted in the air. There weren’t a lot of knickknacks on the walls, but there were plenty of musty books with cloth covers that no one had probably ever read. The floors were wood and covered with many different styles of area rugs. The place had charm, rustic and outdated, but charm nonetheless.

Somebody’s vacation house maybe? Charlie asked, clicking the light switch by the door to no avail. He pulled a lighter from his coat pocket and made a small flame. Maybe we can find a candle?

In the dining room by the far wall sat a large bureau which, thought Jake, may harbor candles or perhaps a flashlight.

Charlie’s light blinked out. Too hot, he said.

A candle would be good, said Jake.

This is stupid. Tessa pushed open a heavy drape. Then sneezed from the dust cloud she’d created. I’m going to shine my headlights in here. She opened the door to a gust of cold air and the roaring rain and went out.

She positioned her car up beside the window so that the whole room lit up like day break. It was easy to see then, and they quickly found a box of variously sized candles. Jake located a stout one that had been burned down about halfway and would stand without a sconce.

They lit two more and snooped around. The refrigerator door in the kitchen had been propped open. There was no food inside. They found a stash of half-full liquor bottles ranging from Captain Morgan to peppermint Schnapps. Back inside, and only moderately wetter than before, Tessa found a bathroom upstairs and discovered that the place had no running water. She told the boys that if they needed to pee they should do it outside. There were three bedrooms upstairs, two of which had twin bunk-beds and one which had a king and its own bath. They settled in downstairs after stripping the sheets from the couch and a single chair and waiting for the dust to settle.

At least we don’t have to worry about anyone coming home, Jake said. It felt oddly cozy sitting in the candle light like they were, almost as if they were settlers out on the prairie in a little wooden cottage.

I hope that’s true, Charlie said, thoughtfully.

I’m hungry, Tessa added.

Charlie pulled his bag up into his lap and produced three protein bars. One for each of us.

Tessa removed her boots and sat on the chair with her feet tucked beneath her butt, while Jake and Charlie shared the sofa and downed their bars.

So… Tessa said around a lump of chewy protein, what are we going to talk about?

Good question, Jake mused.

Well, Charlie began, I suppose we could try and guess how each of us came to be driving on the 63 South in Wisconsin.

That’s boring, she said.

We could tell jokes, Jake suggested, though he hardly knew any that weren’t disgusting.

Okay, she said. I got one. Knock-knock.

Who’s there? Jake refrained from rolling his eyes.

I don’t know.

I don’t know who?

I don’t know who’s there. Tessa giggled at her joke and then apologized for it. It was something one of my friends made up, she said. They sat for several seconds in silence before Charlie spoke up.

Perhaps you didn’t understand my meaning, he said to Tessa.

About what? she asked.

About my party game.

Jake cringed, hoping this didn’t go somewhere weird or uncomfortable, or both.

I meant the story behind the story, Charlie continued. You know, the dirt. He had lowered his voice a couple of octaves and made it sound gruff when he’d said the dirt. He laughed. It’s just an ice-breaker game. One person volunteers a small and mundane reason that answers the question, which in this case could be something like ‘I was driving to work’ or whatever, and then the other people start digging to find the thing that the person is hiding about it, the real story, as they say. Like, ‘why were you driving to work at six thirty in the evening?’ and so on until you get to some secret.

Do people always have something to hide? asked Tessa. I feel like that’s assuming an awful lot. Why can’t the guy just be going to work because he has to work?

No, he said. You’re right. It’s just a fun gag is all. You have to kind of start with a loaded question.

Which is where you come in? Jake asked.

Yes, Charlie said, and they both laughed.

Tessa squinted at Charlie.

Oh, it’s a vicious game, he assured her, and not recommended for the faint of heart, but anyone who would drive in that storm tonight and then agree to come inside here, can’t be too faint of heart.

I don’t know, said Jake. Might be a little heavy for first encounters.

Charlie shrugged. I’m sure you’re right. I’m sorry I brought it up.

Tessa shrugged. Who’s first then?

There was a round of silence that didn’t appear to be going away anytime soon, so in the interest of keeping the peace Jake volunteered.

I’ll go, he said.

Ooh, you’re brave, Tessa teased him.

I’m on my way to Bloomington, Illinois to visit my aunt and uncle who I haven’t seen in ten years, he said casually, and then sat back and looked at the other two players.

I like that, said Charlie. Neat, clean, but with an unmistakable undertone of insecurity.

Tessa mulled it over for longer than Jake had thought really necessary. Okay, I have a question. That’s how it’s supposed to work, right? Why on the 63 and not the I35, which is faster and more direct and probably safer?

Jake rocked his head up and down. Pretty smart, I’ll hand you that.

Gimme the dirt! she announced, like a game-show host.

He liked her. No denying that. There’s no dirt. Sorry to burst your little bubble, but, if you must know… He sighed and supposed he was never going to see these people again. I was driving on the 63 and not I35 because I don’t like to drive on freeways.

She eyed him. Going to make it difficult, I see, she said.

Jake crossed his arms. Why not?

Come on, get personal. Why are you scared of driving on freeways? she egged him on.

He was regretting this. I don’t like to, he said.

Ask a question that requires a thoughtful answer, Charlie coached Tessa. Try to refrain from bullying.

She eyeballed Jake, thinking, during which time he was noticing how terrifically brown her eyes were. He supposed that there could be a lot worse things than being quizzed by this woman. He wondered briefly about his newfound friends, where they came from, what they did, how old they were. For a moment he wished that they weren’t playing this game and instead just talking and telling stories.

He thought Tessa was older than he was, but wasn’t sure why he thought that, she just seemed older. He had turned twenty-eight three months ago, which meant he put Tessa somewhere around thirty-two, thirty-three, somewhere in there. Obvisouly, Charlie was quite a bit older than he and Tessa, and Jake put him somewhere around fifty, if he was older than that, then he was aging very well, but if he was younger, well, then maybe not so good. Either way, he looked to be in good shape body-wise, as in, he was lean and healthy looking.

When you got out of the car, you limped. And you don’t like to drive on freeways, Tessa was saying before leaning back thoughtfully. You were in a car crash and now you’re freaked out because you think you’re going to crash again. Bingo, I got it!

Jake shrugged. Okay.

Well, am I right or what?

You got it on the car wreck part, Jake admitted.

What, that’s not everything?

Not entirely.

Okay, she said, so why are you so afraid to drive on the freeways then?

He felt his skin flush and a little grin hooked up one corner of his mouth. Okay fine. I don’t like driving on freeways because I’m afraid I’m going to… he trailed off.

Crash, Tessa said.

Leave my body. He felt stupid. It was a stupid answer, but it was the truth.

Tessa frowned. That’s weird."

Oh, well thank you.

I mean in a good way.

It’s because I have OOBs, he said.

OOBs?

Out of Body Experiences, said Charlie.

Yes, Jake said. That’s right. I just wake up—er, appear—in a hallway somewhere in some random house. Once in a coffee shop downtown. That kind of thing, you know. And I know I wasn’t dreaming it. He swallowed. His hands were sweating simply thinking about it.

One time, he said, I appeared over the ocean. I don’t know which one, but I was just hovering above the waves and it felt really far away from everything. I kept thinking I would drown, but then I was out of my body so I don’t know how that could happen. But I was scared shitless of being stuck out there forever or dropping down into the water.

You’re not joking, Tessa said.

He shook his head and took a deep breath. Nope.

Wow.

Charlie looked at Jake for a moment and said, He’s not, I can tell.

Did you ever tell anyone? asked Tessa.

Jake sighed. No. I just didn’t figure anyone would believe me. Well, I have now. I mean, I went to the Mayo Clinic to get it checked out.

And? she prompted.

And nothing. They don’t know either. It was difficult for him to face up to. The idea that one of the top, if not the top, medical facilities in the country didn’t have a scrap of an idea about what could be going on with him, didn’t put him at ease. It’s happened like eight times.

When? She asked.

Usually, when I’m sleeping, but I know you’re probably thinking I was just dreaming.

I don’t think you were dreaming, she said.

I just don’t want it to happen again when I’m driving.

.....................

Tessa volunteered to go next. I, she said, am just passing through on a somewhat extended vacation. Seeing where the road leads.

"Now