Incongruity: Quintessential Aeon, #5

By Blake Emerson

When all that you love is ripped away from you at the hands of the world' greatest evil, there's only one thing left to do: make a deal with the devil.

 

When everything has been taken away from you, what do you have left to fight for? Watch as Freeman, one of the US's finest detectives, battles against the Corporation by making a deal with the devil. With the quest for Atlantis crawling ever closer, the archeologists face a battle they never anticipated. Will they get out alive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blake Emerson
• Release date: Dec 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201830687

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The atmosphere was chill, courtesy of the season. Snow gently glided through the air, resting on the cold crispy ground. Ariana was sipping some hot coffee behind the window that was now covered in a shroud of mist. She rubbed her palm against the glass, wiping off a portion of the mist to see the therapeutic spectacle of nature outside. ‘God’s creations are so beautiful,’ she thought, taking a long look at the snow in the air.

December was nearing already, and the snow had come early. She opened up the window, taking a full dose of the cold air in through her nostrils. At a time like this, Granville, her dad, was supposed to be home to celebrate December in a grand style. That wasn’t the case. The gentleman had his head in the clouds, trying to nail his suspects. One, in particular, named Ten, had been driving him to the brink of insanity.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand, opening her contacts to call her dad. She hesitated, as some particles of snow blew through the window, sticking to her screen. The air hissed, as she let out a breath. She stared into the nothingness of the air, watching the frenzied snow. If only her dad could change the narrative, and come home already.

Her eyes shot into the distance, piercing her gaze into the frantic cold. Thoughts crossed paths in her mind. What was her dad up to? Would he ever come home? Her mom was of course worried sick, but they hadn’t lost faith that he would, one day, come to his senses and come home. This Christmas was going to be the same as the last five.

Ariana heaved a deep sigh, held her mug up to her mouth to have another sip of her coffee. The chocolate scent flushed across her nose, mixed with the bland air as she tasted the sugar in her coffee.

Ana!

Her name dashed across the walls of her room, pulling her out of the whirling vortex of her thoughts. She rolled her eyes irritatedly, with a furrow on her face as she forced a gulp down her throat.

What now? She scowled, reaching for her slippers as she made her way to the living room. Clara was on the couch, covered in a brown blanket, designed with birds on twigs. Clara looked the very epitome of cosiness, but something wasn’t right.

Mom, are you okay? Ariana walked closer to her mom, coming around to have a better look at her mom.

Yes... I... I feel a little feverish, that’s all. Clara softly coughed.

We have to go to the hospital. Come on... Her mom looked like death warmed up. It made her feel uncomfortable. She needed help.

It’s not that serious, come on. I took some medicine already, Clara replied, pointing to some medicine she had next to her.

Are you sure you’re fine? Ariana asked, sitting next to her mom and placing a hand on her forehead to feel her temperature. She was quite warm but not startlingly so.

Just a little bit warm, you don’t seem to be running a temperature.

No, I don’t, Her mom agreed.

A thought crossed her mind before she discarded it. What if her mom had Covid? The dreaded c-word.

Could it be that you’re missing Dad? She asked, looking at her mom for a sincere reply.

Clara gave her the silent treatment for a little bit, as she wiped a tear that found its way out of her eye.

Mom? Are you okay? Ariana inquired again, searching her eyes.

I just got off the phone with Dr Stewen, Clara said, sniffling.

And? Ariana asked as curiosity swelled in her eyes.

He said your dad may reach a state of psychosis if he doesn’t stick to his medications. Clara sniffled, wiping the tear as it dripped down her cheek.

Ariana was heartbroken. The shock was registered on her face. It felt like her heart had skipped a beat. Her feet felt more chilled inside her stockings. Tears teased her eyes too, as they begged to be expressed. But she had to be strong. If she cried too, with the state her mom was in, it wouldn’t be fair. She held her tears, wrapping her hands around her mom, telling her it was going to be okay.

Life had suddenly become a Hell of a lot more serious. Her dad was heading into a tunnel he might never come out of again. She sniffled, snuggling her mom. With her nose buried in the blanket, as she picked the scent on it.

It’s going to be alright mom, she said, holding her mom even tighter in her embrace.

––––––––

Ten exhaled deeply, pressing the binoculars firmly against his eyes. He set them down to have a look at the tranquil neighbourhood. His winter coat was near buried with snow, a testament to how badly he wanted to find the information he needed.

Gotcha, he grinned.

CHAPTER 1

Quintus was a broken man. His despair was beyond words, and his motives had grown dark. He had arrived from the site two days back with the head of his mother, Katherine, in a box. These people were savage. They had mailed him a package from Nigel Smith. When he opened the box, he was greeted with a fetid stench, and the head of the human who had brought him to this world.

She was looking quite different than he remembered. Wrinkled and with liver spots on her chin. Her lifeless head was just there with her hair dishevelled, and face sloughing sideways. Tears had burst from his eyes. The last time he had cried that much was when he was a child.

He was in his room now, and although that happened some two days ago, he could, of course, not stop thinking about it. With his eyes fixed up on the ceiling, tears swelled once more, streaming down his face. He hadn’t worn his glasses since then, because there was no need to. In his grief, his professional outlook was unimportant. He was in contact with his wife yesterday morning for the very first time in a long time, and since then he hadn’t been able to get through to her. He agreed with her. That the obsession he had with Atlantis had ruined his life, but what could he do now?

Casting his mind back into the past, noting every decision, every conclusion he had come to, Quintus recalled everything that left him to today. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride upon them, as they say. Quintus did wish that he could go back in time now, perhaps to when he was a dedicated lecturer. If he were, things would be a lot different. He would likely be in the yard, with his two children in tow, while his wife prepared something delicious for them all to eat. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It truly wasn’t.

Katherine, his mother, should have been there with him, proud of her son and grandchildren. Life had other plans for him, and what a shocking reality he was experiencing now. Her head in a box? It still felt like a nightmare, like it hadn’t really happened. A picture of it flashed across his eyes again, as tears slipped away down to his cheek.

Mom, I’m sorry. He wailed like a child, holding the satin pillow tight in his embrace. How would he live with this burden for the rest of his life? In his worst moments, he contemplated ending his life. It was neat, and easier than going on. It was as though Atlantis was a dead end. They would never find it. They were just a bunch of people looking for the impossible.

What was the reason for life? Truly, he asked himself that very question often. What was the essence of life when all your joy was gone? The very thing that was the source of unspeakable joy was his family, and he’d ruined that. His professional efforts to find Atlantis, to discover the world’s most virtuous secret, had left his life in tatters.

Quintus felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, looking down at the sea below him. In reality, he was safely in his bed. Pushing thoughts of suicide away, he walked towards the bathroom. His head ached terribly. It was like his weight had doubled, in fact, tripled over the days. His body failed to listen to him. It was sluggish and slow. He hadn’t showered in the last 72 hours and it showed.