After the Mist

By Cathy Coburn

Mike Reynolds always prided himself on being in complete control, and then his world topples into the unfamiliar. Disturbing dreams plague him, leaving helplessness in its wake and his control slipping away. 

 

Though adventurous and fearless, the young and petite Maggie O'Reilly doesn't recognize the devastating consequences of staring unswervingly into the black piercing eyes of absolute malevolence.

 

Together, the two team with five others to forge ahead on a perilous mission that becomes a dire adventure beyond anything they could have foreseen or imagined. 

They find themselves in direct confrontation between life and death, love and something else, an unlikely place for evil to be hiding or should we say, to be waiting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Champagne Book Group
• Release date: Nov 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781926996844

Book preview

Prologue

Triquad two, this is Triquad one, Roger, you’re going off course again, veer three degrees North-East. Over. Frank Lawson tapped his finger firmly on the monitor.

"This is Triquad two. Negative on that, my gauges show I’ve righted my course. My compass has completely malfunctioned, so telling me North-East isn’t helping much. You have me off course over two hundred miles from where my gauges say I’m supposed to be.

Even though we added that extra fuel tank, I’m now afraid if I keep going off course like this, I’m not going to be coming home! A tidal wave of panic came through in Roger’s voice, gathering speed, rushing him onward toward the commencement of destruction. "I don’t like this Frank.

When you train as a pilot, you learn to trust your instruments, not follow your instincts. Your instincts will let you down and get you lost, you know this, Frank. You know this. But now, I can’t trust my instruments or my instincts. I’m trusting you’re instruments and you’re instincts, and I’m feeling really, really screwed right now! Over."

Go three degrees to your starboard side, Roger! Just remember this was a voluntary assignment, and you begged for it. You’re flying through the Devil’s Triangle. What did you think would happen? You need to think clearly, Roger. You need to focus. Over, Frank fumed. Roger had known what he was getting himself into, and his panic was just not acceptable.

Frank sighed deeply. He wasn’t helping to calm Roger by yelling. He paused for a moment to choose his next words with more care. Triquad two…Roger, we have your GPS coordinates. We’re watching you on the monitor. We’re not going to lose you. Do you hear me? We are not going to lose you. Over.

I see somethi—ov—a—st. Roger’s signal broke.

Triquad two, come back… Roger? Rob Parker, who sat at the desk next to Frank, called into the microphone of his headset. Roger, can you hear me? he pleaded again, then turned to Frank, We’ve lost him, Sir.

"What do you mean, we’ve lost him?’ Frank snapped, in disbelief.

Roger’s plane has dropped off the monitor, and we’ve lost all communication with him. He’s vanished sir.

How can he just vanish? Only moments before, he’d yelled at Roger for panicking. Now, in a fleeting moment, the word vanished brought the onset of his panic. Waves of goose flesh rippled down his arms, as a momentary numbness obscured his conscious mind. How can this be? The thought loomed in his innermost darkness.

Even though there had been the real possibility that this not only could happen, but probably would happen, he couldn’t accept the truth. The possibility he’d thought they’d fully prepared for now seemed impossible to comprehend.

And quit calling me Sir. We aren’t in the Air Force anymore, he said, attempting to appear completely composed, trying not to give his mind a chance to pause. He feared if he paused, for even a moment to find his thoughts, there were going to be no thoughts to find. He shook his head, in an attempt to snap out of the fog waiting he feared, to take over.

Hard habit to break, Sir… I mean, Frank, Rob told him apologetically. Rob had a problem calling him by his first name. Frank had been Rob’s Superior Officer in the Air Force for six years, and Rob was a disciplined man.

Frank and the now seemingly lost Roger Simon co-founded the business they first called The Bermuda Tri-two. They served together as pilots in the Air Force; both took early retirements, bought a 1979 MiG 21 jet fighter for a steal at $76,000 and launched their business.

The sole purpose of their business was to search for answers in the Bermuda Triangle. As pilots, they had seen things in the triangle that couldn’t be explained. Each time they had seen or heard of something unexplainable, the Air Force had simply dismissed it or quickly covered it up.

Shortly after they started their business, two other ex-Air Force pilots, Rob Parker and Louis Stevens, had approached them. These men had served under both Frank and Roger and greatly respected them both.

The two men had similar experiences. They wanted answers for occurrences that had been simply filed away. The four of them pulled together and vowed to keep searching. They re-named their business The Bermuda Triquad; a name they considered to have a real ring to it.

But now the second-in-command, quad team member, and Frank’s best friend, was missing along with their newly painted jet fighter, nicknamed Bermie.

Roger, Frank pleaded with a ring of dread in his voice. Roger, don’t do this. Answer me. He again tapped his finger on the monitor where his friend should have been; as if he expected him to magically reappear.

He glanced over at satellite screen, his eyes widened, his finger slowly drifted over a blurred area on the screen. Frank cocked his head to one side and pushed back in his chair. His finger went over his lips as if to hush himself from an impending scream. The ceaseless whispers of his subconscious mind attempted to cloud any rational thoughts.

I’ve seen this before, Frank said under his breath, staring at the screen. He leaned slowly forward to again lightly touch his finger to the blurred area. I’ve seen this before, he repeated softly.

So have I, Louis stated, breaking into Frank’s reverie, as he peered over his shoulder.

Frank looked back to Louis then to Rob; both men had the look of shock, mixed with sheer terror.

One

Mike Reynolds found himself hurrying up the side of a cliff, with no clear sense of where he was going, or how he’d come to be in a tropical environment.

His nerves surged with a sense of urgency mixed with fear. Was he running away from something or running toward something? He wasn’t sure; he only knew he had to keep going up.

He stopped for a moment to listen to the almost deafening roar surrounding him. A waterfall. I’m by a waterfall, he said aloud. The dense foliage obscured his view, but he forged ahead following the sound. Shoving aside the overhanging branches, he broke out into a clearing. He gazed upward. Two men fought, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff-side shelf.

Is that where I’m going? Am I going there to intervene? Mike pondered, watching the men for a moment, discomposed, a bit dazed and confused.

I don’t recognize either of those men. Do I? Wait, they do look familiar… Don’t they?…I’m not sure.

Mike’s sense of urgency resurfaced, and he once again blindly rushed up the face of the cliff driven by a force so powerful that any conscious thoughts he had left were eclipsing rapidly.

As he pushed the foliage aside he caught a glimpse of his right hand.

Blood! My hand’s covered in blood. Is this my blood? Have I hit my head and that’s why I don’t remember anything? Mike stopped abruptly; he looked at his bloody hand with earnest. He took his left hand and ran it through his hair, then pulled it back for inspection.

No blood. So, where did the blood come from? I don’t appear to be bleeding. Doesn’t matter…must hurry.

When he finally reached the shelf where he’d seen the men fighting, a light mist loomed all around. The mist hovered threateningly, waiting for him to step into its grasp to seize and destroy him. He wildly scanned the area to find the two men, but they weren’t there. They’d disappeared.

Hello? he called out. He could vaguely see something lying on the ground shrouded by the mist, secretly waiting he feared.

As he cautiously stepped into the vapor; it swirled around his legs in a caressing manner, calming his innermost fears.

He proceeded slowly forward. As he got closer the mist gently parted to reveal a young woman dressed in blue jeans and a bright red shirt lying motionless on the ground. As he got even closer, he could see her head was covered in blood.

Do I know you? he called. He wasn’t sure; he couldn’t see her face only her bloody head haunting him. She didn’t move.

He apprehensively proceeded for a closer look. Are you all right? He hoped she would turn and answer, reluctant to get close, but again she didn’t move.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment to get up enough courage to inspect the lifeless body. He feared he would recognize her, and he feared even more she was going to be dead. He opened his eyes slowly, took a labored breath and knelt beside her.

His trembling, bloody hand reached out to touch her. She was dead, he felt sure of that, but who was she? As his hand was about to reach her blood soaked head, he stopped short. His eyes widened. He turned quickly, startled by something. The roar of the waterfall he still couldn’t see was almost deafening. So what had startled him?

Pulled by an overwhelming urge to get up and walk toward whatever beckoned him, he stood slowly. He turned toward the cliff’s face, his eyes transfixed on it, forgetting for a moment the girl lying on the ground at his feet. He crept toward the brush in front of the cliff like a cat stocking its prey.

He froze in fear. A cave lurked behind the bush. You have to go in.

There’s something in there you must see. Something you’ve been searching for…but what about the girl?

Mike glanced at the eerily still body on the ground. I can’t just leave the girl. The girl is dead. You can’t help the girl. She’ll still be there when you come out. You need to go into the cave.

Mike faced the cave. He walked around the bush and stopped at the entrance. His heart beat fiercely; but not in his chest. The pounding came from his head, like a migraine hammering against his temples, a thundering sound loud enough to drown out the roar that surrounded him.

What are you so afraid of, Mike? he asked himself with the only bit of sanity he had left.

Really! Well how about the fact that your hand is covered in blood and you don’t think it’s yours? Or how about the two men fighting which appeared to be to the death, then they disappeared, or how about the girl, Mike, the girl lying over there dead, or the fact that you don’t know where you are or how you got here.

Mike closed his eyes and shook his head. He was talking to himself as a second person. Get a grip Mike! He once again opened his eyes, this time desperately hoping to wake up and find himself safe in his own bed, but when his eyes were fully open he realized this wasn’t a dream. This was real; at least he thought it was. The cave loomed before him and he looked directly into its mouth, a mouth waiting to devour him.

His heart thundered, rapidly moving to his throat, making it hard to breathe. Mike breathed in deeply, in an effort to catch the breath that hung heavily in his chest.

Facing his fears, he stepped into the cave, looking first to the rock floor. The wetness before him appeared to be water pooled from a damp cave. He gasped in horror. Blood.

So much blood, there’s so much blood. The words caught in his throat and echoed throughout the cave.

After a few moments, in the obscured horror, his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Out of the corner of his eye something alarmed him. He didn’t want to look, but he had to…He took a deep breath, and turned to face his monster.

Out of the dread of the darkness, against the cave wall, the source of the blood was revealed. A man hung. Only the lower part the man’s bare legs were visible; the rest engulfed in shadows. Blood was flowing down his legs and dripping from his feet, forming the pool beneath him.

Mike screamed and jumped back, losing his footing and falling into the blood.

The Nights in White Satin ring tone of Mike’s cell phone startled him awake. He frantically looked around through the darkness, frightened and disorientated at first. Where was he? Was he still in the cave? He wondered. Then the familiar glow of his clock on the nightstand gave comfort.

Thank God, it was only a dream. His cell phone continued to beckon him. He was beginning to hate that song. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, straining to focus his eyes. 4:02, who’s calling me at four o’clock in the morning?

He grabbed his phone and looked at the caller ID. Zack! He paused for a moment, shaking his head. Better a call from Zack at four a.m. than to be stuck in the nightmare.

He opened his flip phone and in an irritated voice answered, Zack, you do know that on the west coast it’s only 4:00 a.m., don’t you? What could you possibility want from me at four in the morning?

Mike, you’re gonna love this.

Mike sighed deeply. The only thing I would love, Zack, is to still be sleeping. Though, he knew this to be untrue.

Zack boiled with excitement. Mike, I promise you, buddy, you’re gonna love this.

Mike rolled his eyes and remembered some of the other things Zack thought he would love, like the Anderson family in Montana, who claimed their four children had been abducted by aliens. Mike and Zack were led on the family’s wild goose chase for three and a half weeks, only to find all four of the Anderson children happily staying with Grandma Anderson in Nevada for their summer vacation.

Or the crop circles in Jake Taylor’s corn field in Kansas, which turned out to be made by Jake’s Cousin Vinnie and his drunken friends.

What am I going to love this time, Zack? He asked with absolute frustration. Some lady gave birth to an alien baby? Did a spacecraft land in New Mexico full of alien creatures looking for their family? What, Zack?

This is big, Mike. This is really, really big. Are you sitting down?

Am I sitting down? Mike snapped. It’s four o’clock in the morning, Zack, so no, I’m not sitting down, I’m lying down. What do you want?

The Devil’s Triangle, Buddy. The big, bad, Devil’s Triangle, Zack said in his still excitable voice.

Mike sprung to a sitting position, and turned on the light next to his bed. What about the Triangle? he asked, still mistrusting, but interested.

We got a contract to go into the middle of the Devil’s Triangle, and the pay is huge, Zack explained.

Who’s contracting the job? Mike asked suspiciously.

The US Government, Buddy. Our very own United Stated Government is contracting a company called The Bermuda Triquad, and they’re contracting us, TUPS, to assist. The pay is big money, and I mean big money.

I’m not part of The Unexplained Phenomena Society anymore, Zack. Not since Kelly and I split two and a half years ago. I have my own business to run here in San Diego. I can’t keep putting my dive shop on hold to run off on your many adventures.

Mike despondently glanced to the obviously once crumpled picture on his nightstand. There, in the broken frame with no glass, was a picture of him and Kelly sporting happy faces. Faces from the past.

Does Kelly know you’re asking me along? Mike asked, wary, expecting the worst.

She told me to call you, Buddy. We all know who’s the expert on the Triangle, and we don’t go into the Triangle without taking the expert, Zack replied in a calm and serious voice, finally calming down a bit from his first over boiling enthusiasm.

How can anyone be considered an expert on the Triangle? Mike questioned. I may have some of the answers to the questions of who disappeared, when they disappeared, where they were going before they disappeared, but I don’t have the answers to the biggest questions of all, such as why did they disappear? Or, where did they disappear to?

This, Mike, is why I said you’re going to love this, they’re sending us into the Triangle, and we have a map with the location of where to go to find those answers.

Mike hesitated for a moment before he continued, trying to rationalize everything before speaking. After an extended silence, Zack finally interrupted his thoughts. Mike? Are you there?

Yeah, I’m here. Why contract us? Why don’t they just send in their own people? If they know where to go to find the answers, why not look themselves?

They have, Mike, over and over, and no one ever comes close to the location they’re looking for. If they find their way back, they’re hundreds of miles off the course their gauges show them to be. Or, if they get close to the location they’re looking for, they simply disappear, and they’re not heard from again.

Why then would they think it would be any different for us? Why would they pay us the big money as you put it, to try and accomplish what none of them can accomplish?

Because I told them, with you, we could find the location they’re looking for. Zack answered in a matter-of-fact voice.

Why would you do that?

Just drop what you’re doing, and fly out here. Bring your dive gear and maybe another dive buddy. And it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if the dive buddy you bring was the beautiful, spunky Maggie O'Reilly. Just get out here, Mike, and I’ll explain everything.

What do you mean, the beautiful Maggie O’Reilly? You’re not harboring any feelings for her, are you?

You’re kidding me, right? You can’t be serious. Maggie’s only a kid; she’s just a lot of fun to be around.

You think she’s a lot of fun because she reminds you of you.

Exactly. I’m my own amusement most of the time. With Maggie around, it’s like a double feature, Zack chuckled.

I don’t know about any of this, Zack. Let me shower, have my coffee, and wake up a bit. I’ll call you back this evening with my answer.

You know you’re coming, Mike. I know you’re coming. You and I both know you have to come.

We’ll see Zack; I need to think on it.

Plagued with mixed feelings about dropping everything and taking off to Florida, Mike decided not to leap, but give it all a great deal of thought before making any decisions.

In the back of his mind, however, he knew Zack was right, he had to go. How could he not go? After all, it was the Devil’s Triangle, the place that had been his biggest passion most of his life, and on the plus side, he’d get to see Kelly, but also on the negative side, he’d get to see Kelly.

Two

Mike’s mind raced on the drive to his dive shop. His thoughts dashed from one scenario to the next. Would Buzz Carter, his store manager, be able to handle the shop alone for such a long time? Should he take Maggie as his dive buddy? She was, by far, Mike’s best dive instructor and most confident diver. Phil, another instructor, had been diving ten years longer than Maggie, but Maggie was a natural.

She was young, in her mid-twenties, petite and beautiful. Her long, light brown, sun-streaked hair was usually pulled back in a ponytail which cascaded softly down her back. What she lacked in size she made up in sheer enthusiasm. Maggie was single; Phil had his family, a wife and two small kids.

Yes, Maggie was the clear choice. Mike smiled to himself; it wasn’t until that moment that he acknowledged what he’d known all along. He would definitely go. He pulled into his shop parking lot. He chuckled to himself as he wondered how he’d gotten there at all, not consciously aware he was even driving.

Mike didn’t have to talk Maggie into going; she bounced off the walls with excitement.

Oh my gosh, Mike, oh my gosh, this is by far the most exciting thing to ever happen to me. She squealed with enough excitement in her voice to run an entire amusement park. I’ll have to call my mom. She stopped short and looked at Mike. "She isn’t going to like you, Mike.

Again."

I already thought about that, Mags, he said with notable fear in his voice. He didn’t mind admitting he was completely afraid of Maggie’s mom.

"You know your mom hates me. She has ever since we joined Zack in the Florida swamps to look for the swamp monster, and you got lost for twenty-six hours. She held me entirely to blame for that. She, along with the rest of us, feared you’d been eaten by an alligator—with the exception of Zack. He was quite certain the Skunk Ape had captured you.

That was over a year ago. I’m sure she’s forgotten all about it by now.

Can you tell your mom you’re going without telling her it was me who got you into it? Mike asked earnestly.

"You know I can’t lie