The Glowing: The Glowing, #1

By Tom Rimer

Nice guys often finish last, but sometimes last is all that's left.

 

Majestic Mount Greylock always cloaked the small berkshire town of Adams in its shadow...until now.

 

Until the skies illuminated. Until the Glowing began. When Kamryn Coe, her disheveled teacher, and a group of geeks that'd put a comic convention to shame witness the destruction of their hometown. They must combat a land teeming with drooling alien hordes, while Kam faces the truth of her own birth and its connection to the catastrophe unfolding around her.

 

Time travel, extraterrestrials, humanity's end.

 

TIME TO SAVE THE WORLD.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing
• Release date: May 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393875130

Tom Rimer

Tom Rimer lives in Massachusetts with his wife and two children. He is the author of The Glowing (an epic sci-fi/horror trilogy) and Malevolent Nevers. His short story “Clown” was published in 2015 as part of the horror anthology, 13 Tales to Give You Night Terrors. He is also co-host of the YouTube series, Found Footage Fridays. Right now, he’s probably lost in an old bookshop. You can find him on Twitter, musing about what he finds funny and talking about all bookish things @RimerTom. www.tomrimerauthor.com photo credit: Laura Gustafson

Book preview

One

Absolutely not, whispered Kam. She shifted uncomfortably in her desk-chair-combo-of-doom and focused on the laptop in front of her. The last thing she needed was for her Biology teacher, Mr. Flowers, to catch her chattering with Lucy. Again. Trying to ignore her friend, she focused on her fingernails and the straggling remnants of black nail polish that had been badly in need of a touch-up weeks ago.

Puhleeeeeease, Lucy cawed, perched in the desk just behind her. He will be there. This is by far your best opportunity yet. Not that you've taken advantage of those chances that you have had, but...

He was Olin North. So cute, so unbelievably smart, and so completely unaware that she was even breathing the same stale, stagnant, high-school air that he was.

No, Kam growled over her shoulder. Just... no.

Kam, don't be dumb. It's perfect. You'll have time to talk, show him you have common interests... be cute.

Kam sighed audibly and snapped around in her chair. We don't have common interests. And, it'll be dark... he won't even be able to see me.

Just wear your Math Camp t-shirt, the neon-pink one. He'll see that.

Gross, no.

You're ridiculous, said Lucy.

You're ridiculous, mocked Kam. 

"You're both ridiculous if you think I'm okay with you continuing to interrupt my class," Mr. Flowers said, glaring at the both of them from the front of the room. Kam blushed and half-slunk into her seat. This wasn't the first time they had been caught and reprimanded for disrupting Mr. Flowers as he nerded it up at the front of the room. Far from it.

Is there a problem? Flowers asked.

The problem was that Kam had been on his bad side since she'd first stepped into his Biology class in September. She hadn't been able to establish any kind of rapport with him, though not from lack of trying. To her, he was sand-papery. Animatronic. As far as she could tell, he lacked any actual human qualities. It bothered Kam that he didn't seem to like her. Up to that point in her educational career, she'd never met a teacher so incapable of praise, so completely unaware of how awesome she was. She'd always been one of the top students in her classes. Her effort wasn't at Lucy Mendoza levels, of course, but it was damn close. For some reason, though, it was different with Flowers. He lauded over his science wizards and the pimple-poppers in Astronomy Club, but could only manage grunts of approval whenever she tried to get his attention. In Mr. Flowers' class, even though her grades were always A's, he refused to give her any indication that he was impressed. He treated her no differently than the slackers who sat in the back and spent more time examining what came out of their noses and armpits than they did the study guides he provided. She regularly felt that he was seconds away from telling her how disappointed he was in her or that she was somehow not meeting his lofty expectations. He never did, of course, but she always felt that he was about to. She couldn't exactly pinpoint why his obvious ambivalence toward her bothered her so much, but it did. Not that she'd ever do or say anything about it. In life, when obstacles came her way, Kam usually chose to avoid them, to not make waves or rock the boat.

Instead, Kam generally preferred to shrug her problems off. To keep moving forward. She absentmindedly fingered the sun-faded photo in her pocket, as she often did during stressful times, and focused on the inscription that she knew was scrawled on the backside.

Keep on keeping on.

Kam's eyes flicked back to the teacher standing over her, the red fading from her face. He was an unmoving, unfeeling, dork-statue she couldn't chip away at. As far as Kam could decipher, there was absolutely nothing flowery about Mr. Flowers, at all.

Ha. Nice one. High-five, Self.

Kamryn Coe. Lucy Mendoza. What seems to be the problem? Flowers pressed again.

Kamryn tried to avoid staring directly into his reproachful gaze. Nothing important, Mr. Flowers. Sorry.

Flowers turned his gaze to Lucy. Miss Mendoza? Do you agree that this can wait? Is it so necessary to interrupt the class right now?

Rapid-fire questioning. Classic Flowers.

It can definitely wait, Lucy said, somewhat diplomatically. Sorry.

Good, he smirked, adjusting his sagging corduroys. As I was saying, today is your last opportunity to sign up for tonight's X103 viewing party atop Mount Greylock. Still great seats available as long as you remember to bring a signed permission slip with you. No slippie, no watchie.

X103 was a comet; it would be entering the Earth's atmosphere later that evening in the form of a majestic meteor shower that Mr. Flowers insisted they all see. According to him, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Not to be missed. He would be dragging the Astronomy Club and anyone else that he could convince up to the highest peak in Massachusetts, to witness it all. At 9:00pm. On a Tuesday night. Front row. The Astronomy Club, from Kam's vantage point, was filled with the Berkshires' biggest collection of freaks, geeks, and odd-jobs; a group that she'd tried oh-so-hard to avoid in her two years at Adams Memorial High School. But Olin would be there.

Olin. Drool.

Show of hands, who here is planning on joining us tonight? Mr. Flowers said. Three hands shot up. The first two belonged to Blair and Bennett McFadden, twins and Astronomy Club regulars. Kam thought they were nice enough, but she couldn't see herself ever spending quality time with either of them. She had a difficult time holding a conversation with Blair, who was unable to keep eye contact and spent a large amount of time looking in the direction of her painfully orange Converse All-Stars, and Bennett had been uncomfortably crushing on Kam since the two were in elementary school. Being stuck between the two of them on top of a cold mountain was not her idea of a fun night. The third raised hand was, of course, Lucy's. Lucy had attended a couple of previous A.C. functions, but only because she had to be involved in everything, one way or another. She knew practically everyone at Adams Memorial, partly because she was active in so many different school clubs and organizations (National Honor Society, Student Activity Council, Yearbook, and Cross-Country just to name a few), and partly because she was Sophomore Class President.

Excellent, Mr. Flowers said. Two of our most frequent patrons and Miss Mendoza, a relative newbie. Can't get enough of us, hmm Lucy?

Haha. Nope. Guess not. Lucy motioned toward Kam. Trying to get this one to come too.

On cue, the bell rang and Kam leaped out of her seat.

Perfect timing. Saved by the bell.

Eager to avoid being pressed any further, Kam snaked away during the mad shuffle for the door. Lucy followed her into the hall before she had a chance to duck into her next class.

Nice job avoiding that one, jerk, Lucy said.

Thanks, I thought so.

Look, Lucy persisted, grabbing at the back of Kam's denim backpack, all I'm asking is that you come this one time. You don't have to join the freaking club or hang out at any future meetings or anything... just come tonight. It'll be fun.

Kam sighed, I dunno. Lemme think about it. I'll call you later?

Fine, Lucy said and stalked away, even her ponytail somehow managing to look pissed-off.

Shaking her head, Kam started towards Mrs. Carroll's Math class, her last stop of the day. She'd already made plans to hang out with her mother that evening and not even Lucy would be able to convince her to bail.

Not this time.

Her mother traveled for work and was often away for weeks at a time. This would be the first opportunity for the two to spend time together in almost a month. Jennifer Coe was a single mom; always had been and, Kam believed, always would be. Kam stayed at her grandmother's house, in a loft above the garage, whenever her mother was gone on one of her trips. On that particular evening, they'd both be under the same roof, sleeping in their beds. She'd promised her mom some girl time on the couch, in their PJ's, watching trashy reality TV. For weeks, they'd both been looking forward to this night. She wouldn't, couldn't, break their date. Even for him.

Halfway down the hall, Kam realized she had forgotten her Geometry textbook in Biology. Abruptly, she stopped, turned, and ran directly into Mr. Flowers. Permission slips skittered down the hall and the teacher dove wildly for a door-handle before nearly falling flat on his face.

Yikes. Barely touched the guy.

Neither of them was hurt, but Kam still felt the heat in her cheeks as she helped him gather his belongings. Sorry ‘bout that, Mr. Flowers, she groaned, tucking a loose strand of blue hair back behind her ear.

It's alright, Kamryn. No harm done. His wild mop and meandering glasses told her otherwise. Perfect timing though. I wanted to give you a permission slip for tonight... in case you decide to make an appearance. You forgot to grab one.

Ha, she thought. Forgot.

Two

Yes. Yes. Yes. Quinn Flowers stared intently at his computer screen as he read the American Meteor Association's blog. The AMA's most recent update suggested that the X103 Comet would be even more visible than previously expected and that the ensuing meteor shower promised to be epic.

I'm geeking out right now, Flowers thought. This is going to be awesome.

One helluva light-show.

He had originally planned to go it alone on his roof but, after realizing how great an opportunity it'd be for his Astronomy Club, and after Gabe Simon had smartly pointed out to him that the absolute best vantage point would be at the Mount Greylock summit, he had convinced Mr. Assad, the new principal, to give him the green-light on planning his little excursion. Mount Greylock was the perfect spot: lots of room for the kids to spread out at the summit, a lodge to duck into should it get too nippy, and the Veterans War Memorial Tower would provide a spectacular view. The event was shaping up quite nicely. The only possible hitch in the plan was that he had opened up the trip to the rest of his classes, in the hopes of getting a good crowd. He was worried that certain students might just show up to clown around.

Better not, he said aloud. I'd lose it.

It being a Tuesday night, Quinn knew he was going to be the only teacher available, per usual. He lived alone and had no one waiting for him back at home. No girlfriend, no parents nagging him to move out, not even a pet. He was incredibly allergic to pretty much anything that sprouted fur, never mind the fact that he couldn't envision another living creature ever being solely dependent upon him.

Far too much responsibility.

He wished some of his co-workers had made more of an effort to attend, though; he really could have used some help in monitoring the group in the dark. Quinn had asked around but hadn't been able to get anyone else to commit to chaperoning. Astronomy Club events were small-beans in the grand scheme of things and most of his compatriots were chaperoned out. Contrary to popular belief, most teachers didn't stop working at the end of the bell; Quinn himself was getting plenty of exercise carting home massive piles of papers each night. He knew that he would be on his own again and was starting to feel like he might be a bit in over his head. He had, fortunately, secured the services of one of the school's bus drivers for the evening. Ernie, he believed his name was.

At least there's that.

Hearing an odd rustling sound outside his window, Quinn jumped up from his chair and pulled open the shade. Faces were grotesquely smooshed against the glass, members of the girls' soccer team and their Coach, laughed as he reacted in mock terror. Quinn grabbed a bottle of window cleaner and pretended to scrub at the greasy face-prints. After a moment, he pulled open the window and the Coach blew her whistle, signifying that it was time for the girls to start running warm-up laps. Jordan Alosi, a Spanish teacher at the school in addition to her coaching duties, lingered. Something in his chest did a little flip-flop at the sight of her, but he ignored it. He always ignored it.

Quinny, what are you up to tonight? she said.

Astronomy Club. Comet Party.

Ahhh, right. Bummer. He could tell she was disappointed. Astronomy Club again, huh?

That's how I roll, Quinn said, awkwardly. Stupid.

Well, a few of us teachers are having a comet ‘viewing party' of our own tonight. Bill, Joanie, and I. Got Mr. Connors, the night custodian, to promise to unlock the door to the roof for us. It's gonna be redonk.

Yeah. I bet.

Well, ah... stop by afterward if you want to, she said, turning and jogging up toward the field. We might just chill up there and watch the stars all night.

Okay, I might, he said. He wouldn't. And you guys have a good practice today.

See ya, Flowers, Jordan said and disappeared over the top of the hill. Quinn sighed and sunk back into his swivel chair.

Damn. Damn me. Damn Astronomy Club. Damn comets.

Jordan had casually been trying to get him to hang out after work since the start of the school year, but he'd always had some excuse; Astronomy Club, a relative that he only vaguely knew flying in from Denver, college letters of recommendation to write. It never ended. To be fair, he was busy. Too busy to make time for the pretty teacher who seemed like she might be interested in him, though? Not even close. He was almost thirty and terrified that he might never take her up on any of her offers. To himself, he'd long ago admitted that he liked her and, for Quinn, that was a big deal. There wasn't much else going on in his life to like.

Next time, he thought. Next time, I'll say yes.

The door to his classroom suddenly swung open and in walked Mr. Assad. In his wake was Heath Ellis, a student who was racking up some serious frequent flyer points due to his daily visits to the principal's office. Ellis, wearing a black Zombie Llamas band-shirt, was technically in one of Quinn's Biology groups, but he spent more time walking the track outside and smoking butts in the boys' room than he did in class.

Mr. Flowers, good morning. How's the planning for tonight's trip coming along?

Really well, actually. I've got the entire Astronomy Club coming, plus a few extras. Got a driver taking us up to the summit. AMA is predicting even better fireworks than previously predicted. Quinn paused and stared at Heath who was sticking a giant wad of gum underneath the whiteboard behind Assad's back. What can I do for you guys?

Assad straightened a stray pencil at the front of a desk and nodded his bulbous head in the direction of Heath. Each movement of his shining cranium caught the harsh fluorescent school lighting and threw it back into Quinn's eyes.

Well, I have a funny story for you, Assad began. I was coming out of my office today, and I catch Mr. Ellis here tearing one of your Comet Party posters off the wall, just outside the gym. Turns out, it wasn't the only one he tore down.

Quinn put a hand through his hair and stared at Heath, who was cramming a fresh piece of bubblegum into his mouth. You little son-of-a... Uh-huh. Sooo, what's goin' on, Heath? Problem with Astronomy Club or something?

I dunno, he laughed, indifferently. Bored, I guess.

Assad picked a permission slip off of Quinn's desk, folded it, and began to tap it against an open palm. Yeah. He was bored, he said, rolling his eyes. Well, I wonder if we might be able to find something to help occupy your time, he stopped and stared at the teacher.

Quinn knew immediately where Assad was leading and stood up behind his desk, cradling the pile of signed permission slips. Mr. Assad, I'm not sure I—

Mr. Flowers, there is just one punishment that would fit Mr. Ellis' crime. He looked up at Quinn, grinning as if he could barely contain his excitement. I want Heath to join the Astronomy Club at your little Comet Party this evening. He clearly has nothing better to do and, unless he'd rather spend his Saturday morning in detention, this is the only option I am giving him.

So you've decided to punish ME?

Quinn squeaked, The thing is, Mr. Assad, I'm the only chaperone tonight and— Assad stuck his hand up, silencing Quinn.

What do you say, Heath? Can you get this permission slip signed in time? Or should I pencil you in for Saturday morning?

Ellis laughed again, Fine. Just so long as none of those morons slobber on me, he said, winking at Quinn.

Assad gestured toward the door and Heath Ellis exited the classroom. Thank you, Mr. Flowers, the principal bellowed on the way out, Enjoy the show! Snicker-mumbling under his breath, he rushed to catch up with Heath, letting the door slam behind him.

Quinn sat down at his desk and put his face in his hands. Great. Now, I'm babysitting tonight. If this kid ruins this for the rest of us...Quinn glanced up at the clock. Six more hours until the big show. God, help me.

Three

Kam set the TV trays up in the living room and listened to the water gushing through the pipes as her mother turned the shower on upstairs. Their house was old, turn-of-the-century, and the long disintegrated insulation allowed for very little privacy. Jennifer Coe had been raised in a nearby neighborhood and purchased the place not long after college. She had been on a mission to make a home for Kam, who had arrived quite unexpectedly. Kam's mom had always joked that she was a miracle baby; now, a sophomore in high school, Kam was old enough to know better. There had been someone. A man. A father, perhaps. Kam had asked, on numerous occasions, for more information, but it seemed almost impossible for her mother to speak whenever the topic was broached. Whoever he was, alive or dead, Kam knew next to nothing about him. All she had was a photo. She pulled it from her pocket, where it always rested, and stared at the face that she'd spent so much of her life wondering about. For the first time, she was struck by how similar his sad eyes looked to her own.

All it'd take is a ridiculous mustache and I'd be a spitting image.

Years ago, as a small child, she'd discovered the picture at the bottom of a water-damaged box in the attic. It was of her mother, laughing at her reflection in front of a mirror. Over her shoulder, a man with an awful orange mustache could just barely be seen, the flash partially obscuring his face. Around his neck, a large yellow jagged stone was draped on a noticeably fraying cord. The rock, brilliantly catching the flash, was