Extinction Chronicles: Includes the Hazel Short Story Collection as Well as the Observer - a Stand Alone Short.

By Jamie Horwath

Extinction Chronicles brings the events of mankind at critical points of development out of the shadows and into the light. Hazel, a collection of four stories, presents segments of life from the perspective of Kaley Walls. Kaley is a young entrepreneur who is about to discover her niche in the universe.

The Observer, a stand alone short, documents the events of mankind's final days. See the world through the eyes of recon agents Ashley and Ed. The year is 2060 nearing the end of a conflict known as the 'Flesh Wars'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456765125

Jamie Horwath

Jamie Horwath resides in North Eastern Pennsylvania. He attended Penn State University during the nineties. After college he worked a series of odd jobs until he took a sales position for an employment agency. In 2011 Horwath released his first book, Extinction Chronicles, and since then has released five more. The works comprised of short stories, novellas, and novelette's. His newest work is a novel completing the story that began as a short titled The Observer. Horwath's writing stays within the genres of science fiction, horror, and fantasy. His newest work is a cross genre piece across all three categories. Jamie's dog, Storm, a beagle is still hounding him.

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© 2011 by Jamie Horwath. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 4/27/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4567-6513-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4567-6512-5 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011907068

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Table of Content

Hazel

Part 1

Migraine

Part 2

Bar Flies

Part 3

Sub Blackness (cripple words)

Part 4

Dwellers from Within

The Observer

The Blood Harvest

Any Town U.S.A.

Over the course of our lives self—doubt and fear can become a paralyzing affliction. Sometimes, to overcome those fears and false doubts one must embrace the sub darkness and thus embrace oneself.—An Unhinged.

Some believe man lives twice in a single lifetime. One life is born of light and one life is born of darkness. Over the path of a typical lifeline, these different moral lines do not couple. They are never permitted to gain knowledge of the others existence, save an extremely rare sub conscious event. The only way this event can come to fruition is through the overlapping of actions. It is in this place, a point of juncture, where the phenomenon chronicled unfolds…

Hazel

Part 1

Migraine

An enormous white bear lumbered down the path without abandon. Her shadow flickered in the anemic moonlight. The bear interrupted her gait next to a utility pole nestled in the rigid embrace of concrete. She let loose a sepulchral roar from within and stood on her back legs. With a tremendous defilement, the bear’s front paws raped the base of the pole until it toppled into a nearby convenience store. Power lines and splinters of wood rained down on the Value Mart’s empty cement porch. The white bear returned to her walk down the winding path of darkness…

Kaley opened her eyes quickly and violently raised her upper body from the bed. Fucking nightmares, ugh.

The side of her temples pounded and throbbed without waning for what seemed like an eternity. Kaley stared ahead like a chronic catatonic until the pain began to subside. She placed her small hand against the side of her head and stumbled out of bed. Her bare feet felt cold on the wood floor. Ahhhhh, she whispered, God dammit. That’s cold. Cold, cold, cold.

Kaley put on a pair of blue bird slippers that she kept near the foot of the bed. Their faux fur shielded her petite feet from the dampness of her half double and offered solace from a cool Pennsylvania morning.

Kaley rubbed her feet on the floor and smiled as the faux fur tickled her toes. Kaley thought about retreating under the covers and snoozing. Then, like a drunken ex bursting through the door, her nemesis reared its ugly head.

Oh, shit! she grumbled as the alarm clock blinked back at her. With an increasing urgency, Kaley grabbed her watch from the nightstand and cast a hopeful glance at the indifferent hands of time. Ah fuck, she yelled, her voice carrying a crystalline tone.

In a genuinely slothful and hapless motion, she flopped onto the edge of her bed. The pounding, forked up from her temple, began to reverberate through her skull. The sound of the pulse, which was similar to a muffled drum sequence, began to beat rhythmically in her ear. The sound embraced an acute silhouette, which gathered speed, akin to a large boulder affirming gravity by the actuation of movement. With the force and violence of a hammer to the head of a nail, the throbbing struck home an uncanny, crippling force. Kaley’s vision slowly despoiled by the distortion and a diminutive black hole began to egress across her cycloramic view. Its diameter expanded at an unnatural rate until the pinhead muddle reached the size of a grapefruit. The circumference became the border for a grayish haze that expanded outward from the confines of a black origin. Metallic whispers began to satiate Kaley’s ears. She raised her left hand and inched forth an extended index finger. Could I touch this she thought?

Her bony finger pushed forward and seemed to disappear within the circle of abysmal shadow. A tingling ran up her spine, like an infant scurrying across freshly cut grass on a warm summer’s day, and overtook the pain in her temple.

Barrring, Barrrinng screamed her cell phone. Ignorant to concerns and listless in nature, the digital tones belted out a call for anyone with a healthy sense of hearing.

Kaley jumped at the sound and when her attention slipped away from the grapefruit sized hole it disappeared. Kaley shook her head and picked up the phone.

Hello, said Kaley.

Kat, replied a squeaky female voice, Kat, where are you?

Kaley sank back in bed. Uhh, the power must have gone out. My alarm clock didn’t go off, againnn.

You got that right. Your entire block lost power. A pole got knocked down last night and smashed up the Value Mart, said Kaley’s friend.

Get out! replied Kaley, there was no wind that I can remember. Huh, that’s weird.

Hey, you better get in here quick sister, squeaked the mousy voice, Barnes is going to be pissed if he hasn’t fired you already.

Uhh, I can’t make it in today, replied Kaley.

More of the headaches? asked her friend.

Yeah, Kaley tactlessly retorted.

Okay, I’ll talk to Barnes but I don’t think he’s going to be happy. Hey, why don’t you head to that specialist I was telling you about, said the woman.

You know I hate doctors-

Yeah, but this one’s supposed to be cute. Oh crap! Barnes is heading towards me. I got to go, said Kaley’s friend as her words clipped and faded into an electronic base octave that played no sense of favorites to the inner ear.

Okay, bye Trish. mumbled Kaley in a tired tone.

Kaley put the phone down on her cherry veneer nightstand and slipped back into bed. She opened the bedside table’s drawer and took out a folded newspaper. Her eyes scanned the block ads until they found the quarry.

Dr. Klein

Neurologist

123 East Mendenhall Ave

671-566-7663

Call for an appointment today

Barrinng, Barrinnng…

Doctor Klein’s office can I help you? asked an older woman. The tone presented itself as an abstruse wall of indifference to the ears.

Hi, I saw your ad and I’d like to make an appointment, replied Kaley.

Okay, I have one later on in the week- the woman stated rather peevishly and devoid of any forethought.

Kaley interrupted her, Do you have any today? I’m having these nasty headaches.

I don’t think so, let me see… chirped the woman, Yep, your in luck. I have a 2:30 this afternoon. There was a cancellation.

Okay, great, said Kaley.

Can I have your name and number please? asked the faceless stream of syllables.

Sure, my name is Kaley Walls and my number is 671-566-9898, replied Kaley.

Okay, we’ll see you later then, bye bye, spoke the woman. The last two words seemed to degrade and break down into a puckish mesh of inflections.

Kaley put down the phone and looked at the ad again. She folded the paper and cursorily flipped through the pages. Her fingers paused on the special interest section. The lifeless, mechanical print provided a theater of somber faces that belonged to people who had gone missing over the last year. None of the missing carried any similarities save for one. They all resided in the area or a few counties out. That is odd thought Kaley, hmmph.

Kaley arrived a little on the early side. Thanks to her foster parents, Kaley developed a neurotic condition of being prompt. Her obsession with being early often caused her to fall into a gentle psychosis. She hated going to the doctor to begin with, dealing with a mind bending, obsessive-compulsive train of thought would only add to the aggravation and influence her headaches. The worst part of the entire process involved the sign in and paperwork. The assistants nail you with a shit load of questions and then tell you to wait.

In the wasted time, your curious eyes evaluate the surrounding unhinged, in hopes of finding someone who, in the end is worse off than you are. Thoughts like this helped the time pass for Kaley. The reading material was trite and elicited meager thoughts of suicide. The idea of slitting her wrists became palpable with the notion of sitting with these people for an extended amount of sand. Kaley laughed inwardly at the potential scene of her blood filling the lobby and creating a river of crimson to wade through. Nothing as exciting and dubious of that nature would happen now she thought. Kaley reached toward the pile of waiting room magazines then withdrew her hand. She didn’t think the magazines and their promise of a million paper cuts would be enough to bust through the great skin damn that held her reservoir of salty crimson goodness in check.

missing image file

The door to her left opened and an old nurse walked into the waiting room. Kaley? asked a Nurse with a pair of radar like eyes.

The aged woman tried to associate the name with the faces that helped supplement her income and allow her the time to gossip and complete crossword puzzles. The nurse lived a parasitic existence that stemmed from another person’s life long studies and accomplishments.

Kaley looked up and smiled.