Tranquil Fury

By Peter Thomas

JK Rowling meets JRR Tolkien in the Anti-Matter Chronicles
It was just a normal school day...until the accident. However, when the four bus-mates wake, stranded on another world, with two of their friends injured, even stranger events begin to happen. Rescued by a lone traveler, who is a magic student, he takes them in search of elfin healers, but on that trip Lauren and Logan, fraternal twins, are adopted by divine benefactors, giving them both knowledge and powers. Eventually, they find themselves in the dwarven mine of the Ironhouse clan, and once there, the mysteries begin to unfold, including the biggest of them all; why would four-foot-tall dwarves forge a six-foot long sword? Here you will find a fresh, fast-paced adventure, with unique characters, odd circumstances, unusual events, including an exceptional and original storyline.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Thomas
• Release date: Jan 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463658543

Book preview

Tranquil Fury, Book One

The Anti-Matter Chronicles

By P. G. Thomas

Written and Published by P.G. Thomas

Copyright 2014 & 2019 by P.G. Thomas

Dedicated to my Mother,

For all her support and encouragement over the years.

Originally edited by Adam Steel, e-mail: [e-mail]

Re-edited in 2016 & 2019

Cover Art by Paul Santana, e-mail: [e-mail]

You can follow me on twitter: @PGTtheauthor

You can contact me on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/The-Matter-Chronicles-886040318206439/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any reference to historical persons, fictional characters (print, movies, or television), actual products, musical groups, song titles, or similar is used fictitiously, without consent, to add an element of realism to this story. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

I want to extend a special thanks to my beta readers: Nancy Giberson, Chuck Lawrence, Shelley Myron, Dev Birbalsingh, David Shaw, Susan Karley, Alex Dimoski, and Peet.

This ebook 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 reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit your favorite ebook retailer to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Altered coordinators: The old-fashioned coordinator for was replaced with either as or because. To clarify this, a bold font identifies the new coordinators, signifying its modified role – or as some may consider it – a grammatical error, but done with purpose. Also, I have purposefully replaced em-dashes with en-dashes, as they punctuate sentences better when using text-to-speech programs.

Books Written by P.G. Thomas

The Matter Chronicles is composed of three three trilogies:

Anti-Matter Chronicles

Book 1: Tranquil Fury [~240 pages, 89,000 words]

Book 2: Sky Elf [~270 pages, 96,000 words]

Book 3: Blood Bond [~330 pages, 120,000 words]

Gray-Matter Chronicles (release date: late spring 2020)

Book 1: Revenge [~260 pages, 103,000 words]

Book 2: Reset [~280 pages, 105,000 words]

Book 3: Residual [~390 pages, 145,000 words]

The Dark-Matter Chronicles (release date: late spring 2020)

Book 1: Phractured [~260 pages]

Book 2: Phragmented [~250 pages]

Book 3: Phyrrhic [~320 pages]

Index

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter09

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Prolog

Six hours after the accident, people still filled the restaurant, as this was the only place to get a good look with the highway closed. The television inside was broadcasting the National News Network, and every fifteen minutes they returned to the unfolding story. When that happened, everybody would go quiet, turning to the screen with a piqued interest. After the anchor checked in with the live crew for updates, when none materialized, he read from the teleprompter.

At approximately eight-thirty this morning on Route 89, an explosion occurred. Even though all the facts remain unknown, we can report that every branch of the government is currently on-site, including the CIA, FBI, and Homeland Security. Our graphics department has created an animation of the current situation. This is an old aerial photograph of Route 89, showing the curve where it goes around the base of the mountain, including the four-hundred-foot long avalanche tunnel. When we digitize the current image over an old photo, the entrance and exits are identical, but it is now one-hundred and twenty-feet shorter. The midsection where the explosion occurred, where the damage should be, has disappeared. This animation demonstrates the situation. By removing the missing section and pushing the two sides together, we end up with a perfect representation of the current scene. The image changed to the live view. It’s as if somebody removed a wedge out of an orange and pushed the two adjacent sides back together. The investigation continues…

It would be another two hours before any news agency mentioned the school bus inside the tunnel – or the six missing students.

Chapter 1

As the school bus worked its way along the winding one-way road, passing through a tiny mountain valley, it arrived at the first stop. Standing at four-feet-ten, weighing one-hundred-twenty-pounds, you might think John was in the seventh grade and a junior in high school, yet he was far beyond the definition of average. Having skipped four grades, he also attended university classes once a week and in fact, could have already completed public school, but his parents wanted him to have a normal life. One unlike his father who had graduated from university at seventeen, but the intense collision of education and social exclusion had resulted in years of personal awkwardness. While that was the plan, his father’s nemesis overshadowed John, as all the other students were seventeen, standing five-foot-four to eight, which meant he was fifty pounds lighter and twelve-inches shorter than most. However, his small size was not the problem; it was his heightened intelligence, aided by an eidetic memory, meaning he remembered every word, eliminating the need to study. Nobody physically bullied him – well, not since moving to this community four years ago – but still, he never managed to fit in. Amplifying the social problems was the swift progression through the lower grades, meaning any friends made one year were forgotten the next – when promoted past them.

At an early age, he learned to protect himself by executing several survival tricks, and one practice included sitting behind the bus driver, a habit developed in the city, and while there were many more, this was the beginning of his daily routine. However, he had a new problem. At the start of the school year, his mother purchased a pair of glasses with big round frames, thinking they made him look cute. One day, after forgetting the regular glasses, life became more difficult when everybody saw the new ones, as all started calling him Harry. So far this year, he had lost six pairs of regular eye glasses, causing his parents to wonder about him, but he had recently discovered that the senior sports teams had put a bounty on them (dead or alive), and another pair disappeared last week.

Nature has a way of maintaining balance in the universe, ensuring that every force has an equal and opposing influence. John’s was intelligence, which was necessary since he lacked size, strength, and confidence. If there was an opposing and equalizing force, it was the next student on the bus route.

When Eric stood on the first step, John always thought the bus tilted. At six-foot-six and two-hundred-twenty-pounds, he was practically a foot taller than an average student, including a few coaches, and sixty-pounds heavier than most. Known to his teammates as Mount Eric, he was a fixture on every playing field and occasionally, the captain of two teams at the same time. His entire family lived for sports, as a legacy of six relatives currently resided in various halls of fame. Growing up, his family always said he had big shoes to fill, shoes he not only filled but also rapidly outgrew. With a large, hulking frame, a confident walk, and dark short-cropped hair, he was one student that everybody knew. Overall, while not a bad character, his grades lacked, which is why few people asked about them. As usual, whenever Eric saw John wearing the new glasses, he always said something like; Harry, did you remember your broom?

Heading towards the next stop, the student standing at the side of the road threw an object into the opposite ditch. On several occasions, John had seen the glass-filled ditch, and it was evident Zack favored gin for breakfast. Labeled as a loner, nobody really knew him, as even the other kids labeled the same also ignored him. He was that one student that all the teachers described with the opening, if only he applied himself. While he was the same height and weight as the rest of the boys, he had long, black hair cascading over his shoulders. As usual, he was dressed in his favorite color: black. Honestly, nobody had ever seen him in any other color, but he had only relocated here four years ago, moving in with an uncle for legal reasons. In addition, nobody had ever seen him smile, as it was like his face had lost all ability to express feeling – turning him into an emotionless zombie. While considered odd, he was consistent, including his below average grades. True to form, he stepped onto the bus with an unfinished science project due the day before. Going to the last seat on the left, after opening the window, he sat with his back to the aisle, balancing a large plastic case on his lap.

Around the next bend, a young girl and her brother waited for the bus on the opposite sides of the driveway – again. Considering they were twins, one might think they would be civil to each other, but while sharing that one special day, they were opposites in almost every aspect of their lives. As the bus stopped, all five-foot-four and one-hundred pounds of Lauren stomped in, pitching herself into the second seat on the right. When Logan sat down behind, the look on her face stated the displeasure of his choice.

Except for a one-inch-wide purple-dyed streak caressing the contour of Lauren’s cheek, a ponytail tied with a similar colored ribbon contained the rest of her dark hair. Since it was her sister’s favorite, every day she always included it in her outfit: a skirt, blouse, jacket, or perhaps a brooch. The reason for the honor; her sister had died in a car accident two years earlier, and even though a simple tribute, behind her back, the other students called her the Purple Princess. While aware of the nickname, she cared neither for it nor for the people who used it, but she also had a confident presence, including a preceding charismatic aura, which resulted in everybody noticing when she entered a room.

When Logan did the same, few if any ever remembered seeing him, which was odd since he was a hard character to miss. His dark hair was always a tangled mess of curls as if allergic to combs or brushes. Putting on a clean pressed shirt, by the time he was at the bottom of the stairs, it would be wrinkled and stained (the only way his whites stayed white, was leaving them in the packaging). While able to leave his house in a presentable condition, by the time he arrived at school, it looked like he had slept in his clothes. At five-feet-six and one-hundred-forty pounds, he was a natural disaster that took great satisfaction in annoying his sister.

Arriving at the last stop, the nest student waited at the side of the road, sitting in a temporary wheelchair with his mother beside him. Chewing on the dyed strands of purple hair, Lauren opened a book to look occupied.

Ryan was the reason they rode the short bus this year, as he had been in a major car accident. After two years of complicated procedures, including intense physiotherapy, the hospital had discharged him. Though now eighteen, he had failed to graduate, as the accident had held him back in many ways. His injuries were extensive: shattered leg bones, major breaks to his pelvis, ribs, arms, and as well, severe back and neck trauma. Uncertain at first if he would ever walk again, determined doctors and physiotherapists had restored mobility to his legs, allowing short distances traveled with the aid of a walker. Despite a full year of therapy ahead, he could now get in and out of the wheelchair unassisted. The crueler kids at school called him Frankenstein, as there was no way to conceal all the scars. Hands, arms, and even his face retained the testimony of that fateful event: evidence he could not escape, and every night, it crept back into his dreams. When episodes of depression began, because of the extended hospital stay, the doctors thought it best to continue the therapy at a local clinic, permitting attendance of regular classes three out of five days.

When the ramp retracted, John and Eric greeted him, but with Lauren present, he only nodded back. Turning onto Route 89, they headed towards the town, and in the distance, the opening to the long avalanche tunnel waited.

Entering the metal passageway, darkened by malfunctioning lights, they approached the outer bend. That was when the driver saw somebody lighting flares in the left-hand lane, warning other vehicles of a potential hazard. Just past those, a motionless truck appeared in the headlights, and after passing both, it shocked the driver to see a speeding vehicle in the other lane, heading towards the obstruction. Even though what happened next only took a matter of seconds, they would barely remember seeing the lit flares or recall the military insignia on the motionless truck. Looking at the screaming bus driver, they all, excluding Zack, watched the speeding truck race towards the stalled vehicle in disbelief. As the horrific crash echoed in the confined space, which channeled the fire, a brilliant flash of light burst forward, followed by a sonic boom.

Chapter 2

Finding himself spread eagle and flat on his face, John was beyond confused. Sitting up and feeling like somebody had kicked the crap out of him, tall, sweeping grass blocked his view, except for the blue sky. He panned from right to left, seeing only green or blue, as the entire landscape was absent of mountains, which was the last thing remembered. Astonished, wondering if it was a dream, he pinched himself, and failing to wake, he lightly slapped his face. Feeling perspiration, he looked up to discover the source of the new discomfort, three unique suns: a red light low in the sky, a large yellow sun in the noon position, and a bright blue dot between the two. Dumbfounded, after rubbing his eyes, he still saw the same three orbs.

Turning around, the shock knocked him backwards. Towering in front was a mountain or part of it, which reminded him of the diorama models he used to build – but full scale. Starting at the snow-covered top, he scanned down the weatherworn exposed rock, ending where the tunnel began, and even the aged dead trees remained rooted to it. The peculiar thing was that it looked like a laser removed it, as the inner-mountainside was perfectly smooth. With his eyes adjusting to the dark shadows inside the tunnel, he saw the school bus that was missing the cab. Having no front wheels for support, it was at a downward angle resting on Route 89. On closer inspection, it shared the same peculiarity of the mountain, appearing to have suffered the same laser-like cuts. It was beyond obvious that the odd configuration of the bus, road, tunnel, and mountain were foreign to the extensive grasslands.

Reality abruptly dawned on him, Where are the others? Hearing a moan, he saw Lauren sit up, Are you okay?

She had a confused look, I think so. What happened?

Not sure.

While Logan was lying on the floor, Eric, who had been sitting behind, was only partially on the floor, as the space between the seats was insufficient for him to slide completely off his own. Emerging from an extreme state of disorientation, both tried to gain an upright position, and the two others helped their fallen classmates to the front of the vehicle. Returning to the back, they observed the chaos inside; broken windows, jagged metal holes bulleted through the bus sides, and a few seats had tiny smoldering flames. Distracted by his assignment, Zack, lying crumpled on top of his project, had failed to witness the event. The large case balanced on his lap had both protected and injured him, as intense heat from the open window had melted the plastic to his body. Following a brief examination of Zack, who was unconscious, John determined severe burns were the injuries extent.

Before shock took its hold on Eric and Logan, John called out, Can you please get Zack out of here?

While still dazed, Eric and Logan lifted the limp body to take it outside. Then John saw the breathing but unconscious Ryan lying on his back, looking like a discarded rag doll, and his mangled, broken wheelchair was dangling from the open emergency door. While not appearing to have any broken bones, pools of blood were forming under his legs. Crawling into the back, John tried to revive him but failed.

Shock would have to wait its turn. With a second bus mate injured, Eric tried to take charge. He barked out his order, Get out of there, so we can move him! NO! replied John. Pulling out his Leatherman tool, after making several cuts into Ryan’s pants, he handed it to Eric, Take apart one of the seats! We need a flat moveable surface to transport him. Knowing John had completed several university medical classes, they realized he was clearly the most qualified to help. Lauren, see if the first-aid kit is under the front seat. If it is, bring it.

As Eric and Logan disassembled a seat, John ripped open the blood-soaked pants to expose the injury. Applying pressure, using whatever passed for a dressing, he waited for the simple medical kit, and upon receiving it, replaced the bloody cloth with sanitized bandages to slow the bleeding. When the seat was free, he told Eric to clear the emergency exit, including sliding the piece of wood through the door under Ryan.

After they carried him to the front of the bus, with space to move, John went into action. He has mean gashes on his legs that need stitches. Lauren, do you have any sewing needles and thread in your purse? Lauren, what’s wrong?

Yes, I’ll get it.

As John cut Ryan’s pants, he called to Eric, I need you and Logan to hold him down. He might be unconscious, but this will hurt, and I have to stop the bleeding, or he’ll go into shock.

An hour later, with the injuries to Ryan’s legs treated, his breathing was once again rhythmic and calm.

Eric, we need something to keep them warm, began John. Can you cut fabric off of the other seats, to use as blankets?

Lauren handed John a bottle of water, Here, have a drink.

"No, we should collect all the food and water and put it into a community pool, as we will need to ration it until we find… Stopping, John scanned the grasslands from horizon to horizon, seeing nothing in sight. We seriously need to ration everything we have."

Look, with this heat and how hard you’ve been working, persisted Lauren, you’re not thinking smart, so we can’t afford to have you pass out from heat exhaustion. Please, take a drink.

Knowing she was right, he took a big gulp of water and spilt some onto his shirt. That was when he saw the broken glasses with the round frames in a pocket. Immediately, recalling his mother and father, tears formed.

Lauren’s voice trembled, John, it’ll be okay.

Returning with the seat covers, Eric laid them on top of Ryan and Zack. Carrying wood that had fallen off the tunnel roof, Logan asked if anybody had fire. Rifling through Zack’s pockets, Eric found the lighter and tossed it to Logan, who was now gathering dried grass.

Eric held out his hand walking by John. Here, I found these. It was a pair of his regular eyeglasses – the same pair that had disappeared the week before.

When a small blaze provided heat, they gathered around it, and after several minutes of silence, Eric spoke. Does anybody have any idea on what happened?

With his head bent forward, John felt everybody staring. Looking up, he was uncertain of what to say. What the hell? Uninhabited grasslands? Three suns in the sky? This isn’t Earth! What can I say to make any sense of this? Limited water and food, two injured; we’re screwed. He gathered his thoughts, My best guess? That accident opened a wormhole that consumed everything in its area of effect: the bus, tunnel, and even the mountain, pulling it all through and depositing it here. While this might sound ridiculous, those three suns in the sky, they’re all the evidence I need. We’re not on Earth, and where this is, I don’t even have the foggiest of ideas, but I doubt if we’re in our own solar system. In a twisted sense, he was disappointed. While he never dreamed of visiting another world, this one was so plain he though he may have been in the Canadian parries. Everywhere he looked, he only saw green and blue, meaning the world most likely had oceans somewhere. Better than crash landing in a swamp, I guess.

How the hell can this happen? demanded Eric.

I really don’t know, began John. The theory behind a wormhole usually involves a massive amount of focused energy, generated by a dying star. However, there’s no other concept to explain how we traveled from there to here.

John, how do we get back? pleaded Lauren.

Weren’t you listening? Get back? He wiped away forming tears, We don’t! We’re stranded here, unless we find somebody that has interstellar space travel capabilities. You can check around the mountain to see if there’s a pair of ruby slippers sticking out. If you do, we put them on and wish our way back home. I hate to be the one to break this news, but getting back isn’t an option. Without space travel or another wormhole… we will need an amazing magic trick. Hell, even then, it could take forever to find our solar system.

Lowering her head, Lauren hoped if nobody saw the tears forming that they would go away.

There must be somebody here who can help? suggested Logan.

Those possibilities are limitless.

Are there aliens here? asked Logan.

Aliens, monsters, or nobody, began John, but I certainly have no idea.

Standing, Eric scanned the horizons, hoping to see somebody or something, but it was the same as when first seen. What do we do?

We either wait here or go looking for somebody, replied John. All the rescue books would suggest we need to stay at the scene of the accident. However, those first responders are back home in what’s left of the tunnel, so I don’t imagine they’ll find us here.

Between sobs, Lauren eked out, I don’t want to be here!

Frustration and shock gnawed at each in different ways, but they found Eric’s exposed nerve first, Call your mother and have her pick you up.

That was the last straw, and with tears streaming down, she stood and headed towards the bus, crying louder as the separated distance increased.

Logan had a stunned look, You don’t have to be such a bastard, Eric.

Stumbling through the long grass, Lauren headed for the bus and sat down on the front seat.

I’ll apologize when we get home.

Following her, Logan was unsure about what to do or say. Sitting down beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her bury her sobs into his shoulder. Even though he wanted to say something, staring across the never-ending expanse, his thoughts and words resembled the scene: empty. However, realizing this was not the time for obvious lies, he reassured her by tightening his grip and wiping away his tears as fast as they formed.

Eric stared at the small flames, Can we build a signal fire?

Look around! If this isn’t some elaborate trick, we’re screwed! There is nobody to call, no cell phone towers, nobody to help! I don’t know how it happened, but we are not on Earth! This isn’t some special drill at football practice, okay. We have been transported light years away from Earth with no way back.

We need to figure out a plan, so don’t have a hissy fit on me!

John sighed, We don’t have enough wood for a fire that size. Even if we did, will anybody see it?

Then we need to find them. Which way should we go?

How can we carry Zack and Ryan?

Eric was getting discouraged, The ref hasn’t called the end to the game yet. What if I head out by myself and try to find somebody to bring back here? Then he looked up into the sky, Which sun should I follow?

John shook his head, knowing they would share a similar orbit pattern, Take your pick.

John, we need to do something.

Clenched tightly together, John’s eyelids were trying to hold back tears. Look, I don’t know what the right answer is. I only understand what happens when we do something wrong.

We have to do something— Kicking the ground in frustration, Eric headed towards the bus, and reaching the tunnel, he immediately began climbing the mountain. Once perched halfway up, he scanned the horizons, but thinking about his family, tears blurred his vision.

Sitting alone on the ground, John pulled out his smart phone, and swiping to the folder containing pictures, he sighed. I’m sorry Mom and Dad, but I have to get rid of these, as they will only make sad. I have to grow up now. Pushing the delete function, the folder disappeared, and he started crying uncontrollably.

When the first sun set an hour later, the twins