The Bigs

By David Edward

From Best Selling Author David Edward comes the next thrilling Purgatory Oaths Novel, The Bigs, an electrifying reimagining of the classic Zombie monster genre.

Judge Isaac Hobart Stone made a deal with the spirit world half a century ago. He thought it was a small deal, a good deal, something he could live with. But he was starting to regret the sacrifices it required of him.

Then on Halloween 1926 in Detroit, when the world of the spirits and the world of the living start to cross over, he realizes he may have agreed to a lot more than he bargained for.

Torn between his love for his wife Martha and his duty to do what is right, Stone quickly discovers he has to balance some terrible choices—choices that will affect not just him and his loved ones but could change the world's fate and, more importantly, the future of all the human souls that hope for an afterlife.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frequency99, Inc
• Release date: Aug 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223305774

David Edward

D. Edward served as a Special Agent in the US Army in the 1980s and 1990s and is a veteran of multiple overseas combat tours. He was the Special Agent in Charge of the 1990 Panama Canal counter-terrorism threat assessment report to the US Congress. Edward is a graduate of the United States Army Intelligence School where he studied advanced HUMINT (Human Intelligence) and battlefield counterintelligence; also completing training at the Jungle Operations Training Center in Panama, Central America. He holds advanced degrees in engineering including a Ph.D. from NCU, three related M.Sc. degrees (MBA, MSIT, MSIM), and has an undergraduate degree in business (BSBA). His books typically reach the Amazon Kindle top 10 upon release in their genre. 'End of Reason' was his first work to reach #1 on Amazon in its category, on June 22, 2021. 'Unreasonable' reached #1 as a pre-order and held the spot for over a month upon release. You can follow his publication schedule here: d-edward.com or email him at his first name, the at sign, the first three letters of the word Florida, a dot, and the word cloud. He did have a Twitter account but then he thought it was stupid so he canceled it.

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

From Best Selling Author David Edward comes the next thrilling Purgatory Oaths Novel, The Bigs, an electrifying reimagining of the classic Zombie monster genre.

Judge Isaac Hobart Stone made a deal with the spirit world half a century ago. He thought it was a small deal, a good deal, something he could live with. But he was starting to regret the sacrifices it required of him.

Then on Halloween 1926 in Detroit, when the world of the spirits and the world of the living start to cross over, he realizes he may have agreed to a lot more than he bargained for.

Torn between his love for his wife Martha and his duty to do what is right, Stone quickly discovers he has to balance some terrible choices—choices that will affect not just him and his loved ones but could change the world's fate and, more importantly, the future of all the human souls that hope for an afterlife.

OTHER BOOKS BY DAVID EDWARD

Panama Red

Drive Faster

Ground Game

Prayer Drum

Down Ballot

Alamosa

The Smalls

The Bigs

X7

Rick Calhoon and the Town Full of Evil Cannibals

Atlantis Solved: The Final Definitive Proof

A Short History of.. series of 25 books

THE BIGS

1881

Alamosa, Colorado

7 p.m. – March 20

The sun was behind the western mountain ridge, and the sky was a fiery red. The air was cold and getting colder.

The wind picked up. The air changed.

The horn stopped, and everything fell silent.

Judge Stone sat crumpled in the middle of the wide dirt street, cradling the body of his lifelong friend Jack Abbott. Abbott had been a cowboy in every sense of the word, including his loyal friendship with Stone. What was left of the town burned around him; the wind started to pull the fire to the few buildings still standing and unaffected.

Stone pushed back his sadness. He felt the tug again; it wasn’t natural, and he knew it. It was a powerful yearning. A desperate excuse easily provided.

A single thought: Leave this godforsaken hard-luck crossroads town, now!

When he looked up into the mountains, or over toward the bright blue lake, or even north to the flowered pastures, he wanted to go there instead of staying here.

He feared to his core and deep in his soul what he would hear next.

He wondered for the first time ever if the deal was worth it.

He released Jack Abbott's body and forced his head up. Thank you for saving my life, Jack, Stone said to the air behind him.

Ruth Rider had brought the cavalry from Fort Garland, a little over an hour’s ride away. They were coming up the main street, still a few minutes of riding away. They had slowed their pace as they started down the main road and looked around, bewildered and trying to take everything in.

The bloody bodies of General Gus Maddox and his immediate staff were in pieces, ripped apart by the spirit of Maggie Summers as she transitioned after Stone helped her. The unease of the shadows was everywhere even though they were gone now and would not be able to return to this spot for quite some time.

The shadows were the smalls; they lived between the moments. They meandered around in packs of hundreds, searching for the little sins, or the big ones, anything they could use to cling to existence for a little while longer. They fed equally off of slights and overlooks as murder and mayhem; on incorrect pocket change or forgetting to hold the door open for a lady. The millions of little things people did every day that slowly added up and counted against them on the scale of life.

Judge, the air around Stone echoed.

Abbott was not much more than a swirl of wind now, new to the spirit world and miles away from becoming the powerful spirit Maggie had been.

Judge, I done my duty and all that, but things ain’t right. Not like before.

Stone had been a federal judge for a decade in Colorado; that’s where his nickname came from. Later, the name just stuck. He had received a federal commission as a judge from President Ulysses S. Grant. Stone had served under him during the American Civil War. Stone didn’t talk much about the war anymore.

Stone’s sadness changed into curiosity. He lifted his head up and opened his eyes, still looking away from Abbott’s spirit or whatever it was behind him. He had been through this enough times. There was no need to turn around; it would just force Abbott to expend the energy he otherwise needed to get his story out.

Jack, Stone said, understanding what this meant. We’ve already talked, haven’t we? It was a question that came out as a knowing statement, Stone’s deep bass of a voice carrying over the wind.

I’m sorry about that Indian, Judge. You seemed to like her. I was too late. I’m sorry about the whole thing. I didn’t understand how things worked back then, not like now, the spirit of Jack Abbott said.

Time had slowed down. It often did with a new spirit, especially one with something to say.

They were Gypsies, not Indians, Jack. This, for me, is the first time we’ve talked since you died. Normally I get to hear about how time works and then pretty quickly about your journey to the wheel.

I just got done telling you all that. Time don’t work the same at all, Judge. It’s not what I thought it was, that’s for sure, Abbott continued. But we already had this talk. Abbott was confused, repeating himself.

Jack, for me, like I said, you just died moments ago. You just saved me from that back shooter Major Kenny. See? Stone indicated Kenny’s body a few feet away, a mangled, bloody mess but still identifiable.

Stone could feel Abbott looking and understanding.

I reckon this makes a lot more sense then, Abbott said. I should have come here first.

Stone shook his head, resolute and introspective. He knew that things went the way they were supposed to. Nah, he said, half turning his head. Not enough to see Abbott but enough to direct the conversation. If you had come here first, you wouldn’t be able to tell me what it is I need to know.

I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to tell you. Abbott still sounded unsure. There is an order to things. At least for a while longer. You’re at the center of it, that’s what I do know.

Stone knew not to let a spirit, even one that represented someone he knew in life, guide the conversation for too long. They twisted this way and that and would wander off the point endlessly.

Jack, Stone said forcefully, we’re good friends, that’s true and sure. You just saved my life. Trust me, all this is very fresh in my mind. But you need to tell me what you want from me pretty quick. That’s how this works. Otherwise, I’m going to have to decide it ain’t you back there and take matters into my own hands.

I know, Judge. It’s confusing. We already talked about it all, but now we’re talking about it again, only this time I already know what you told me, but you haven’t said it yet.

It’s because of time, Jack. You have to start thinking in terms of a sequence. You and I now experience things in a different order. A different sequence. You can move all about; you have to start keeping track of the when’s as much as the where’s.

Okay, Abbott said, used to receiving insight and wisdom from Stone and trying his best to understand it. So, I will go back to the beginning for you even though this is near the end for me, Abbott said, understanding to some degree. What I need from you is for you to trust me the first time we meet again.

You know I trust you, Jack. When will that be? When are you talking?

I don’t know; it was a ways off. The cities were bigger, and there were more machines instead of horses. People everywhere moving about like those old pictures of Paree.

Paree was how a cowboy like Jack said Paris, the word being fancy French and all.

And if I trust you when we meet, that is what you need? That sets you free on your course? Stone asked.

Don’t know, Judge. When we just met, for me, a little while ago, you was pretty upset, and you wouldn’t listen. Things went south. This next time, when we do it again for the first time, I need you to try harder, okay? It’s more important for you than it is for me.

Stone was exhausted. Jack, can’t you just tell me now?

Jack Abbott was gone, replaced by the fire and carnage of the shadows in what was left of the little crossroad town of Alamosa.

Ruth and the cavalry were still slowly riding up the road. No real time seemed to have passed.

Then a thought hit Stone.

Why would Abbott confuse Gypsies and Indians?

He pondered as he watched the last light fade from the red and orange sky.

1926

Detroit, Michigan

1:26 p.m. Halloween, Sunday

The lights flickered. The pipes rattled. The building shook.

Screams of fear started to pour in from outside the private hospital room. The silhouettes of people running this way and that flashed against the drawn interior curtain over the big glass window between the room and the hallway.

One of the nurses in the room panicked, dropped her clipboard, and ran into the hall. The remaining doctor and nurse watched her leave, feeling unsure if they were doing the right thing by staying.

The doctor checked his watch to get an accurate time of death.

Nurse, please note the time of death as 1:26 p.m. Please note the cause as complications arising from an inflammation of the abdomen.

The nurse wrote as quickly and legibly as she could.

The shaking intensified. Light fixtures fell from the walls and ceiling. The plaster on the walls started to crack. Windows could be heard breaking nearby. A large piece of plaster fell from the ceiling near the nurse, startling her. She dropped her clipboard and started to move to the door.

The doctor, an older grey-haired man, grabbed her arm. He pulled her down to the floor along with himself, pushing her under the bed that contained Harry Houdini's still-warm body.

We’re on the fourth floor, he said against the growing noise. We’ll never make it out in time.

The nurse tried to recover but found herself shaking and crying. What about the other patients? she yelled back, trying to find an excuse to run from the room.

We’ll tend to them as soon as the quake stops! The doctor was also yelling now, the noises and rumblings growing very loud. We won’t do anyone any good if we run out there and get hurt; we would just be two more patients. If we can stay calm and safe, we’ll help many more people in a few moments than we can now!

He held her arm to keep her from dashing away.

The rumblings were not subsiding. They should have been gone by now. Detroit did not have seismic activity the same way California’s cities did. Still, low-magnitude quakes did happen from time to time. However, this was no low-magnitude quake. This one was different.

Both the doctor and nurse, hiding under the bed, started to feel real fear; the building was shaking violently enough and showing no signs of subsiding. If it collapsed, they would undoubtedly perish with it.

The nurse started to sob. She and the doctor did not get along overly well. They were not enemies in the hospital administration, but they were not allies either. However, each was the only thing the other had at this moment. They found themselves holding each other, cramped under the bed, clutching with an intense embrace, knowing they held to the unrealistic hope that the support could bring safety. Unrealistic or not, there was no other option at this point.

Suddenly the shaking and noise stopped. It was an unnatural pause. Abrupt, impossible. Hanging in midair, against the established laws of gravity and time, the dust and falling debris stopped along with the noise and shaking.

After a few moments, their embrace became awkward, their fear evaporating, replaced with uncertainty and curiosity. Maybe they had died and were experiencing the next step in the afterlife together?

Suddenly a horn sounded from far off. A low, slow, thundering noise. It was terrifying and caused its own vibrations to everything, accentuating the moments between.

The private room’s interior wall silently exploded into the hallway without noise. Sound seemed to work differently here in this pause of time and space. Had the wall exploded in, it would have certainly killed them both if that were still possible. If they weren’t dead already.

There was rustling and movement from the bed above them. The nurse started to panic again and exhaled, screaming. The doctor covered her mouth quickly to stop her. Both were afraid and struggling to understand what they were experiencing.

A pair of legs swung over the side of the bed. The feet were bare, although there were creases where a pair of socks were typically worn, leaving a red ring around the thick calf.

Heat started to permeate the room; the light from the hallway changed from white to a dark orange, the light of a campfire at night. The horn sounded again, and dust and falling debris still hung in the air, unmoving. The bed creaked and groaned when the body on it jumped off onto the floor, facing the exploded wall and the interior hallway.

Whatever you do, stay behind me.

The voice was from the naked man now standing between the bed and the hospital’s interior. His back was to them, but they could easily identify the man as Harry Houdini; he had a very distinctive appearance. They had gotten to know him over the ten days he had so far been in the hospital.

It was, of course, impossible that Houdini was standing there in front of them; he was dead, pronounced just moments ago. Houdini was a renowned magician who made a name for himself with his ability to escape anything under any circumstances. Little did the doctor and nurse realize he may be able to escape death too.

The horn subsided. Houdini walked forward out of the room, stepping on glass and shards that should be cutting his feet to ribbons but that were instead having no effect. He turned and made a gesture of surprise.

No! Houdini yelled at something down the hall. They are under my protection; you will leave them be!

He ran out of view in the direction he had just yelled. Suddenly the air in the exterior hallway concussed, exploding back and out. There was more yelling and several different voices, but it was impossible to understand what they were saying.

Another blast filled the hallway, this one closer to the room and the hiding doctor and nurse. Then another blast, they saw Houdini fly past their view, being blown back from one side of the hospital’s fourth floor to the other. This blast was close enough to affect the room; it pushed them both out from under the bed and into the back wall with significant force.

Their last sight was the most bizarre thing yet as they lost consciousness. A giant eight-foot-tall thing in medieval knights’ armor walked past them, heading in the direction Houdini had flown down the hall. The