Surfing with The World Wide Dead

By Jonathan Hood

Strap your head in for an action-packed, supernatural horror with a hefty dollop of dark humour, you're gonna expect weird stuff to happen, and people to get offed in gruesome ways, so it does, and they do, thick and fast.

A number of individuals have encountered near-death experiences which they discover has allowed a person (or persons) passed over to return and bond with them, be they the good, the indifferent, or the downright evil, all with the potential to make or break their host, intentionally, or not.

We follow a community group whose members harbour this affliction and come together to realise their potential. Along this journey of self-discovery, they also come up against some of the more nefarious elements that have returned.

So, prepare for the bizarre, and often terrifying situations they encounter, as the battle of wills, and unconventional conflicts upon the astral plane ensue.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: JONATHAN HOOD
• Release date: Jan 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201242725

Jonathan Hood

Hi folks, this is my debut novel and I hope it was an entertaining read. It would be much appreciated if you could spare the time to leave a review, even if it is brutal, I am open to constructive criticism and won't cry (too much). If you did happen to enjoy the book, I am currently working on a sequel or two, so keep your eyes peeled. I have also included a mug shot of myself from better times, and where you can find me on Twitter if you are inclined. @jon_hood_IOW Cheers, Jon. 

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Monique experienced a mild jolt of discomfort upon her arrival, along with that strange sensation one might feel when awakening in an unfamiliar bed. Her adrenalin rushed, and every fibre of her being was on high alert, as she blinked rapidly, and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the intense glare of the sun.

She was pleasantly surprised at the vista that greeted her, and Monique’s unwarranted tension evaporated as her feet moulded themselves into damp sand. A golden swath stretched before her, with a placid, turquoise sea that lapped at the beach, and she inhaled deeply, and attuned her senses to the tranquil surrounds.

Monique reached down and scooped up a handful of the sand, which she squished it in her small fist as if to confirm it was real. She grinned in satisfaction, promptly kicked off her bootees, and hitched up the hem of her dress so as to paddle at the ocean’s edge, and enjoyed the cool surf that massaged her toes.

Despite the absence of any obvious jeopardy, and the way she began to leisurely make her away along the shore, all belied the potential precariousness of the situation, but this had been her decision, a calling that some would say she’d fool hardily chosen to answer. She also adopted this casual attitude as she didn’t want to unnecessarily startle the unknown, though expected, figure in the distance, whom she could almost feel observe her approach.

It was fiercely hot, and Monique reluctantly stepped out of the water and padded diagonally across the beach, towards a fringe of woodland that crept down from an eroded cliff face. The vegetation provided some shady respite from the sun, and she skirted along it, past the bleached limbs of skeletal trees that had attempted to encroach on the sand.

She gave a small wave, and a friendly smile as she shortly arrived, and threw a shadow over the spot, where a girl, perhaps a couple of years her junior, sat cross-legged on a brightly coloured beach towel. The youngster reciprocated, as she peered up innocently from beneath a pale blue sunhat that sported a sunflower. Monique had a flower of her own tucked in her auburn locks, a chrysanthemum, the symbol of longevity and eternal life.

Hello. My name’s Monique. She enthused. This is nice.

I’m Stephanie. The girl responded timidly.

That’s a pretty name. Have you been here long Stephanie?

Not really. I like it here, it’s warm and sunny. She pointed and exclaimed. Look at all the children playing in the sea.

Indeed, there was a gaggle of children, and their ethereal forms frolicked in muted pleasure amongst the waves. They were a product of the girl’s imagination in her current dreamlike state, she was blissfully unaware of her true predicament.

Monique noticed a small pile of cuttlefish bones stacked nearby and stooped to retrieve one of the brittle, almond shaped remnants.

They’re for my budgie. Said Stephanie.

Monique looked wistful. I used to have a pet cat. She was...  

Before Monique could finish her sentence, her skin tingled in discomfort, as if irritated by heat rash, almost like a forewarning, and she turned and glimpsed what appeared to be a flicker of sheet lighting blaze back the way she had come. It was accompanied by the appearance of two persons who dropped out of nowhere. These indiscernible new arrivals shimmered mirage like in a heat haze, motionless as they considered their next move.

Monique folded her arms and gave a miserable pout at this intrusion.

A chill breeze sprang up, and there was a satin hiss as the sand drifted, grey clouds scudded across the sky and partially eclipsed the sun, whilst the sea began to churn, and a procession of angry breakers crashed upon the shore.

These menacing portents mirrored the negative vibes that now pervaded the atmosphere as the uninvited intruders became animated and began to approach.

They seemed to glide across the sand, and as if a sequence of frames had jumped on a film projector, covered several hundred metres at alarming speed, as they rushed towards Monique and Stephanie. Their hostile intentions were made even more obvious as they whooped and yelled obscenities that carried on the charged air, and one of them paused to pick up a lump of driftwood.

For shits sake. Fumed an incensed Monique.

She turned and beamed a grin of reassurance at a frightened Stephanie, and picked up a pair of blue framed sunglasses with large dark lenses that lay on the towel.

Do you mind if I borrow these? Don’t worry, just close your eyes, this will all be over shortly.

Stephanie obliged and scrunched her eyes shut.

Monique returned her attention to the unwelcome protagonists, and her cherubic countenance became unsettled as it gave way to a neutral, waxy visage. This peculiar mask itself became contorted by an expression of concentrated fury, as she gave them a withering, steel blue gaze, which held a wealth of wile that extended beyond her tender years.

She slipped the glasses on.

The breeze grew in strength, and whipped at her hair and clothing, as Monique brought her own influence to bear on the situation. The sea boiled and frothed with increased intensity, and a funnel of water suddenly erupted into the air, a vertical vortex that began to travel jerkily across the ocean’s surface.

Then, out of the blue, came an insistent voice.

Stephanie? Come on Stephanie darling.

The source of the voice wasn’t apparent, and seemed to materialise from all around, and as it resonated, the motion of the water spout faltered, as the unexpected pleading momentarily interrupted Monique’s focus. It was an inopportune moment, but a good sign she conceded, and swiftly renewed her attention on the column of water, which up until now had gone unnoticed by the two aggressors who were too caught up in their frenzied excitement.

As they drew closer, they became instinctively aware something was wrong and came to an abrupt halt. The pair turned in unison, and stood dumbstruck at the sight of the spout, which now towered with menace above them as it rotated with a gentle sluicing sound.

The maelstrom hit the beach, an avalanche of ocean cascaded down upon them, and left a tornado to blast their prone forms with sand before it petered out.

Monique sagged, and trembled after her exertions, and gingerly removed the sunglasses, their lenses crusted with grains of sand.

The pleasing sight, at the outcome of events, buoyed her spirit, and she glowed all sweetness and light once more.

Amateurs. She spat, and glanced back at Stephanie. You can open your eyes now. I just have to finish up here and we’ll be leaving.

Stephanie did so, and gave a weak smile, and a reinvigorated Monique hummed ‘I Do Like to Be Beside The Seaside’ as she went to inspect her handiwork more closely.

The smashed bodies of two bedraggled men were strewn at her feet. One of them, a bald, middle aged man, spluttered and struggled to raise himself to a sitting position, as Monique cocked her head to one side and cheekily enquired.

Feeling a little seasick are we baldy?

Is he dead? The man asked in dazed confusion of his companion who lay face down nearby.

Not yet. Neither of you would be here if he was. Those is the rules here don’t you know. She tutted.

She picked up the plank of driftwood that he had brandished and slapped it repeatedly on her other palm.  

The bald man lowered his voice conspiratorially.

Please. You have to understand. I meant no harm to you both. I have children of my own. He threatened to harm me if I didn’t do as he said.

Monique stepped over to the other individual, who appeared to be unconscious, and she stated aloud.

I’ve been informed you’re a real pain in the derriere.

She received no response, and so she tweaked his nose, hard, and got a satisfying, gargled shriek in return as he was roused from a groggy stupor.

See. I told you so. He’s fine. And I’m sure that didn’t hurt that much.

The man flapped at his leg which was in an unnatural looking pose.

Oh. That. Silly me. Said Monique, and stroked her chin in thought as she regarded the sliver of bone that protruded through the fabric of his trouser leg.

Nothing that can’t be fixed. It just needs resetting. She waved the driftwood. This would make a good splint.

With that, she brought the plank down heavily on the wound, and winced at the piercing howl that arose, before this time he did indeed lapse into unconsciousness. Satisfied Monique tossed the plank down and dusted her hands.

I don’t think you’ll be having much more aggro from him.

She stood over her victim, and muttered to herself whilst she mulled over further options, when she heard the bald man give a triumphant.

Thank you so much.

Monique pirouetted deftly as he lurched upright, and made a lunge for the discarded piece of wood. As he came up to launch an attack, the man’s mouth fell open, and his legs buckled, as he staggered back, the cuttlefish bone embedded in the hollow of his throat.

Monique stood with her hands on her hips.

Shame on you. That’s what you get for telling fibs.

She watched dispassionately as he tried to claw the improvised weapon from his neck, but it was crimson slick with blood, which spurted in bursts every time he tried to draw a breath.

As the man’s life force drained away, his image flickered and dimmed, before his entire being appeared to implode, and he vanished along with his associate.

Monique sighed, and glanced over to where Stephanie had been seated, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw the beach towel had been vacated. She looked around fervently and sighed again, this time in relief, as she saw that the girl had wandered over by the treeline.

Her small form peered curiously into the depths of the foliage as she tried to locate the disembodied voice that still intermittently summoned her. At least she hadn’t witnessed what had just played out thought Monique and went to join the hunt.

Stephanie was understandably perplexed and gave Monique a frustrated look.

Who’s that calling me? She frowned.

Let’s find out together shall we? Don’t worry. I’ll always be here to help. Said Monique.

She took one last look around as she gently placed her hand in Stephanie’s and the coastal panorama evaporated.

1

One of the car’s rear passenger windows slid softly down a crack to allow a flow of almost unnaturally fresh country air into the vehicle.

That’s right Mr Swann, enjoy that sweet aroma, beats smog and Pine Fresh Neil cooed smugly as he tapped the air freshener. About another half an hour and we’ll be there.

Mr Swann, or Andy as his friends knew him, remained in silent contemplation behind his Ray-Bans. Neil, and Sophie the driver, who was his colleague at the estate agency, were glad to be out of the confines of the office, and the suburbs of the metropolis receded as they made their way towards a hamlet comprised of only ten dwellings.

Andy’s mobile phone blared into life, the ringtone straight away informed him it was his friend Lucas. He took the call, listened intently, and gave the occasional murmur of curiosity.

A murder you say. Andy deliberately raised his voice in exclamation and succeeded in getting a shocked reaction from the agents.

The call lasted a minute or so longer before Andy said with some consternation.

You be careful. I’ll have to get back to you I’m afraid Lucas. I’m on my way to view a property.

The second announcement provoked a mischievous exchange between the Estate Agents, the concept of taking Mr Swann for a ‘viewing’, amused them, considering the guy was blind.

Andy shut the phone off and settled back once more.

After a short while, the electric car wound sleekly to the end of a single-track road and came to a halt outside the gate of an extended cottage. A rural home was becoming a rare, and expensive commodity, as the city boundaries were continually gobbling up the supposed green belt areas despite constant protestations. The asking price for the property was therefore considerable, and the agents were well aware that the commission they could make on a sale like this would be very rewarding. This particular home combined the charms of a rustic cottage with the modern luxury of an indoor swimming pool attached.

Neil practically leapt out of the vehicle and rushed around to open Andy’s door. Once they were inside Neil began with the usual spiel, and Sophie chimed in now and then, as they enthusiastically described the residence in some detail for the benefit of Mr Swann – a little too keen he thought.

It’s a great deal Mr Swann. We urge you not to deliberate for too long as we do have several other prospective clients interested. Said Sophie, as they finally stepped out onto the rear patio – pushy too, and the statement sounded like a lie.

Andy took a seat on a stone bench and appeared to gaze out beyond the well-kept lawn, at the rolling fields, and clumps of woodland that stretched towards the horizon.

Do you mind if I have another snoop around on my own for five minutes? Asked Andy.

Once again, the vendors raised their eyebrows at each other as they tried not to snicker. Neil agitatedly fingered a protrusive mole below his lip and spoke.

Of course not Mr Swann. Just holler if you have any questions. – a hint of impatience in his voice Andy noted.

And mind the pool. Said Neil as he retreated – a little condescending too.

The pair waited outside and could hear Andy talk to himself. After a while he called them back in, and he could feel their expectancy, anxiety almost, so gave a frown, felt their tension rachet up even further, so paused, and looked exaggeratedly around the vacant space of the lounge.

It’s a beautiful place. I’ll take it. He eventually smiled to put them out of their misery.

A relieved Neil and Sophie regarded each other like excited children on Christmas morning, and Neil leant over to plant a kiss on her forehead – they were partners outside of work as well – and Neil gushed.

That’s fantastic news Mr Swann, a decision I assure you won’t regret.

As they made their way back to the office that was located in one of the satellite towns that surrounded the city, Neil turned regularly to grin at the relaxed Mr Swann who had just financed an island holiday for the agents. Upon their return, they passed Andy over to an office junior to finalise the paperwork, they themselves had decided to take an early, celebratory lunch.

Congratulations again Mr Swann. We have to be on our way, we hope you understand we have a lot of other important clients to attend to. You have our card, feel free to call if there are any problems. Said Neil – smug bastard thought Andy.

Yes, thank you for your assistance. Replied Andy cordially, and took a card of his own from his wallet and proffered it to Neil.

What’s this? He enquired.

Oh, you know. Andy probed the base of his own lip with an index finger. He’s a wonderful cosmetic practitioner.

Neil flushed red, both in embarrassment, and anger, as he scowled at the junior who tried to stifle a giggle. Andy lowered his shades slightly to reveal his clouded, opaque eyes, and focused on Sophie whilst he continued to address Neil.

Then perhaps you can aim your sights a little higher. With that he gave a wry smile and a polite yet dismissive. Good day to you both.

They edged away in bewildered discomfort.

2

After he’d signed the relevant documentation Andy went for a drink to kill some time. He had another appointment scheduled with an interior designer, in an hour or so, at the insistence of Gemma (whom Andy referred to as his PA now and then in an attempt to wind her up).

Things had to be right, comfortable, convenient, Feng Shui, blah blah... She’d said.

Even if he’d had his sight Andy would have probably left the walls painted bright orange, or whatever colour they’d been decorated. Instead, he just did as he was told and went with the flow, like that of the energies that would be apparently moving through the house.

Andy nursed a brandy, hated waiting, it gave him time to remember. He grudgingly secreted a couple of anti-anxiety pills into his mouth, but even they couldn’t halt the memories...

It had been a sultry, summer evening, and Andy had been taking a stroll in the local park. Three youths approached from the opposite direction, swigging alcohol from a shared bottle. He’d attempted to give them a wide berth but they deliberately stepped across and blocked his path, and before he had a chance to speak, they’d ferociously laid into Andy with punches and kicks.

The unprovoked attack caused him to collapse to the floor, and a defenceless Andy felt a burning sensation as his face began to melt, acid having been thrown in it. He eventually stopped writhing, the shock and pain from the brutal assault having caused him to mercifully pass out, yet still the punishment continued to be meted out.

Mr Swann?

He looked up as the voice of the interior designer thankfully disturbed his disturbing reverie. Gemma also made an expected reappearance, having been window shopping, on the lookout for more items to furnish their new home.

3

Gemma.

There exists a dimension that is home for those passed over, it is known by many names, but most commonly as ‘The Parallel’. She hadn’t been too sure what to expect, on this, her first foray outside that comfort zone, but in life she’d been accustomed to high pressure situations and took everything in her stride.

She’d met Andy in a dreary room that reflected the appearance of the man in his tired suit seated opposite her. Gemma noticed a painting that hung on the wall in a lame attempt to brighten the room, it depicted a young girl and her dog wandering in a corn field, and for some reason it had the opposite effect, and made her feel a little sad.

Andy had appeared to be miles away in thought, and chewed irritatingly on a biro. A mug sat on the coffee table between them emblazoned with: HOW MANY PSYCHIATRISTS DOES IT TAKE TO CHANGE A LIGHTBULB. ONLY ONE. BUT THE LIGHTBULB HAS TO REALLY WANT TO CHANGE.

Gemma cleared her throat, and Andy noticed her for the first time, and said automatically in his practised, sympathetic tone. 

So, tell me a little about yourself and how I can help.

She had to stall for time and play along with this charade.

Ummm... Where do I start. My names Gemma, I was an extremely successful and competent business woman, some might have even have said a workaholic. Though of late, I’ve felt I’m lacking purpose, a challenge in my life.

I notice you referring to having been a business woman. Did that not provide enough stimulus for you?

Something changed. There was an accident.

Gemma had succumbed to heart failure in her mid-thirties. The majority put it down to the stress, and exertions she placed herself under, when in reality it had been due to the exaggeration of a minor heart defect. It still annoyed her, she’d been in her prime, and paid a bucket load for the best private medical care, and yet the problem had still gone unnoticed.

What kind of an accident? Asked Andy.

She couldn’t keep this masquerade up much longer and asked for some water.

He didn’t appear to hear the request as a disconcerted look crossed