The Gathering Storm: The Anomaly, #2

By Loyd Gardner

Book Two of The Anomaly Series. Gary Richardson has won the Superstar talent show but lost Cherie. It is just days before the show is broadcast and the world will get to see his science - even if it is masquerading as magical illusion. But something else is in play - something far beyond Gary's understanding. And more people are being drawn in. The anomaly remains an unknown in his calculations. He knows what he can do but he doesn't know how. And. more importantly, he doesn't know that there is a 'why'. Dominoes begin to fall and pieces come together as The Anomaly series picks up speed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Loyd Gardner
• Release date: Dec 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215945599

Loyd Gardner

Loyd Gardner has lived and worked throughout the world and uses that experience to create unusual stories with unusual characters in unusual situations. While he focuses on speculative fiction, his work includes aspects of psycholigical thrillers and the supernatural. The Anomaly Series, which starts with Invisible Threads is a series of four novels which are complete and will be published throughout 2023 and 2024. Loyd has also published a series of ten novella-length Scooby Doo fan fiction stories at www.fanfiction.net as glide10001. These stories approach the Scooby Doo Gang as they are now adults and dealing with real-world financial and relationship issues while still solving mysteries.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Friday, March 9TH, Las Vegas, Nevada

The threads appeared immediately filling the theater around Gary Richardson as he stood in the center of the stage. But there was a gap in the threads. It took him a second to see the outline of the anomaly towering over him, three feet from his face.

He stared up into what could only be its eyes as the thing threw its head back, flung its arms wide, and let forth a huge – although soundless – scream. In the silence, Gary felt the scream to his bones. His knees weakened and he stumbled a step backward. Continuing to stare upward, he froze.

In the balcony, Cherie looked on in horror and started mumbling under her breath: C’mon Gary. C’mon Gary. C’mon Gary. C’mon Gary.

The anomaly stood over Gary for a handful of seconds and then turned away from him and toward the audience. It seemed to grow larger while it surveyed the room as if it were looking for something. Like in his dream, it lifted from the stage and began to fly. But, this time, it turned and flew away from him and towards the rear of the theater just inches over the heads of unseeing people who were beginning to murmur about the odd actions on stage. A hideous and terrified human scream burst from the direction where it had gone.

Interns wearing headsets appeared from his left and right, running out to the judges’ table and stopping the judges from getting on the stage. A quick conference was convened at the table and the random audience participants were sent back to their seats.

Silhouetted figures were running into the audience toward the sound of the scream. Two of them identified themselves as police as they ran.

A calm voice came over the loudspeaker: Everyone please hold your places for a minute while we see what’s going on.

Gary breathed deeply and began to return to his senses. His terror had immediately receded when the anomaly flew away. He felt a hand on his arm and looked to see a female staffer who pulled him in the direction of the stage left wing. He followed her offstage and out of sight of the audience. They offered him a bottle of water and a seat. He rejected both.

The anomaly had done something to someone. He peered around the curtain trying to look in the direction of the scream. He could see an open door and some commotion but nothing else. It was too dark. He wanted to do something, maybe tell the police about the anomaly. But they would just think he was crazy. Everybody always thought he was crazy. He was powerless.

PART ONE

FIVE WEEKS EARLIER

BILL AND EMILY REYNOLDS

CHAPTER ONE

Saturday, February 3rd. Vincennes, Indiana.

Bill Reynolds was staring at his computer screen and simultaneously taking notes on a pad sitting atop a pile of scattered papers on his desk.

His New Year’s resolution had been to have the outline for the Lenten season sermons complete two weeks ago and have at least the first three sermons written by now. Maybe he should add a sermon on broken New Year’s resolutions. His phone vibrated against his hip and he checked the incoming text:

Pastor Reynolds: Please come to the Chesterfield Room for a board meeting.

It was a group text from the members of the church board.

A board meeting? At 1:00 in the afternoon on a Saturday? He checked his Outlook and there was nothing scheduled. And why send him a text message rather than just walking down the hall and knocking on his door? Something was up.

The thought made him anxious and the anxiety grew into fear and then almost terror. His heart pounded in his chest and he tried to understand the reason for such fear. Before he could, it stopped. His heartrate slowed. Taking a final deep breath to settle his nerves, he got up, and walked to the meeting room.

He was greeted with eight members of the church board seated in chairs arranged in a semi-circle around the room. A ninth chair in the room was set up at the focus of the semi-circle. Bill did not sit.

Rosalie Montgomery, the board president, spoke in an official sounding voice. Pastor, this special meeting of the board has already been called to order and a quorum is present.

Bill tried a smile. I see that. Should we open with prayer?

Rosalie looked away from Bill. Raymond, would you please ask the Lord’s blessing on this meeting and church?

While the prayer was being spoken, Bill’s mind raced. As pastor, he always opened these meetings. He listened to none of the prayer but the group saying in unison Amen snapped him out of his reverie. Rosalie now looked directly at him.

Rosalie’s official tone returned, Bill, there is no easy way to say this. We have been meeting last night and through the day today. And the church board has decided to ask for your resignation.

What?! Bill stepped forward. Why? What have I done?

We choose to not go into the details and under the bylaws of the denomination, we have no obligation to do so. Suffice it to say that we have decided that the church needs to go in a new direction. We have had conversations with key members of the church and we believe that we speak for the plurality.

Had conversations? He felt anger rising and tried consciously to keep his voice calm. It came out with a slight tremble. You’ve been... lobbying?

Rosalie’s voice was steady and cold. This decision has been made prayerfully and with full focus on God’s Will for this church.

The word ‘bullshit’ came to Bill’s mind. He repressed it.

I deserve to know the reasoning behind this. I ‘ve heard no complaints and been given nothing but praise from this board for the past five years.

As I stated previously, we are under no obligation to tell you our reasoning and choose not to do so.

Another board member blurted, Bill, you’re being fired. Take it with some dignity and we’ll maintain our silence.

Silence about what?! Bill made no effort to control his rising voice. What have I done or what do you think I’ve done? It’s possible that it’s a mistake.

He looked around the room, looking each board member in the eye. They all turned their eyes downward on meeting his, except for Rosalie. Her eyes had always been warm and carried a twinkle as she laughed with those around her. He had never known how icy those blue eyes could be.

She spoke, Will you tender your resignation?

Another look around the room confirmed the lack of hope in his position. He felt a tear sliding down his cheek. Yes.

She nodded. We agree with you that is the wisest decision.

Through his teary eyes, Bill could not make out who thrust some papers into his hands. Rosalie continued as spokesperson.

Sign the last page. The church will give you one month of severance pay. You can continue to use the parsonage for up to two weeks while you find alternate living accommodations for you and your family. There are boxes behind you and we expect your office to be cleaned out before you leave today. Please leave your keys on your desk.

She looked around the room. Any further business?

Silence.

Then this meeting is adjourned. We trust that you will be okay to clean out your office without supervision or assistance?

He nodded, unable to speak.

The building was empty in seconds, leaving him alone.

Picking up the two flat-packs of moving boxes, he went back to his office, closed the door, locked it, and sat, silently crying.

He stifled the immediate urge to dramatically sweep the mess of notes from his desktop onto the floor. After five minutes, his emotions stabilized and his eyes began to dry. He broke open the pack of boxes and folded one out.

CHAPTER TWO

Bill pulled into the short driveway of the parsonage and sat watching the fog form on the inside of the car windows. Movement in the kitchen curtains indicated that Emily, his wife, was watching. 

The garage door slowly began to rise, revealing Emily coming out to the car as he was shutting the door.

Her tone was concerned. Hi honey. Are you okay?

The simple question irritated him and he could not keep the edge out of his voice. No. I was just fired.

He plodded up the three stairs into the house with tired, heavy steps. There was no physical reason for him to walk so heavily. It just seemed to match his words.

At the refrigerator, he poured himself a glass of Pepsi and drained it while standing in the middle of the kitchen. He placed the empty glass carefully in the sink. Tears of anger and frustration and helplessness waited just behind his eyes. He bit them back but, if he wasn’t going to cry then he was going to...

GODDAMNIT!

Five-year-old Ruth was in the next room separated only by the kitchen counter. She had rarely heard her father’s voice raised and never so forcefully. She began to scream.

Emily rushed around the counter to comfort her child, biting back her own anger. Bill clutched the edge of the kitchen counter with trembling hands.

The child calmed quickly in her mother’s arms allowing Emily to cross back into the kitchen.

What are we going to do? She tried to keep her voice calm to avoid alarming Ruth again.

Absent-mindedly, he turned on the faucet at the sink and watched the water going down the drain. Down the drain. The metaphor didn’t occur to him.

I don’t know.

Maybe we should pray about it.

Maybe.

He turned around and kissed his daughter on the head.

The little girl looked up. Daddy yelled.

Yes. Daddy yelled. And he shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.

No. Daddy shouldn’t yell.

Emily stepped out of the kitchen area. It’s her bedtime.

On hearing the word ‘bedtime’, Ruth screamed No!

How about of Mommy reads you a story?

The tiny face brightened. Penelope Pinto?

I’ll read you all about Penelope Pinto.

Emily and Ruth disappeared into Ruth’s small room.

Bill fell asleep on the couch at 1:00 AM and plummeted into a world of stress-induced nightmares. At 3:00, he woke up and the stress nightmares were replaced with stress reality. Math ran non-stop though his head: bank balance, car payments, food, rent. He tried to think about other things but the numbers just kept swirling in his mind and the answers never worked.

He barely made it to Ruth’s bathroom before vomiting violently.

When he was convinced that the dry heaves were over, he laid back on the cool vinyl floor and felt the slight draft of the circulating air flowing over his sweat-covered, clammy skin. Amazingly, he drifted off to a restless sleep again at 4:00.

***

Daddny is on the floor.

Bill opened his eyes to see Ruth framed in the doorway, looking down at him with sunlight streaming in around her. The bright morning light was eclipsed as Emily joined Ruth in the doorway. He pulled himself up to a sitting position against the tub.

Daddy was sick last night, honey.

Are you okay?

Bill knelt down and smiled. Everything is fine, ladybug. Don’t you worry.

Ruth looked back and forth between her mother and father. Usually, Sunday morning was constant movement and energy with everything happening quickly. The lack of motion confused her.

Emily opened her mouth but Bill spoke first. We are going to take today off from church and have a day just for us.

This announcement simply added to the little girl’s puzzlement.

Okay.

She made her way back into her room where her toys were. She understood her toys. They lived in an imaginary world of her creation.

Emily and Bill gravitated toward the kitchen and the coffee maker.

As he worked on putting grounds in the filter, Bill tried to keep his voice workmanlike.

We need to figure out where we’re going to live.

Emily pulled two mugs from the cabinet and wiped the dust from the rims.

She matched his even tone. I know.

There’s no money in the bank.

She nodded. Not enough.

That leaves your parents. At least for the time being.

How do you feel about that?

He pressed the ‘brew’ button and waited through the first gurgle sound. What was the correct answer? Furious? Humiliated? Pretty embarrassed, I guess.

No reason you should.

I’m 34 years old. With a family. And we’re penniless and homeless.

You have a calling to the ministry.

Did he? I wanted to be a pastor and change peoples’ lives. There’s a difference. These last couple of years, I’m not sure that I was doing much more than going through the motions. Maybe this is a good thing.

Maybe it’s a God thing.

He stared at the coffee slowly dripping into the pot.

Okay. Sure.

It took a few minutes of searching to find her phone but then she called her parents’ number.

It’s ringing. She looked at Bill. Are you sure about this?

He was sure. Embarrassed, angry, defeated, and then angry again, but sure. His ego had to take second place to taking care of his family. He clung to that. That made this a selfless gesture rather than a desperate, fearful grab at the only option available. 

What else can we do?

Hello. Bill could hear his father-in-law’s voice made brittle through the phone speaker.

Hi, Dad. It’s Emily.

As if I wouldn’t know my daughter’s voice. Is something wrong? How’s Ruth?

Ruth is fine. Everybody’s healthy but... Bill lost his job here.

Lost his job? How?

We don’t know. Bill can give you more details on that.

Is he there?

Yes, he was kind of wanting to speak to you.

Put him on.

Emily handed the phone to Bill.

Hi Hayden.

Bill, what the hell happened?

I don’t know. The Board called me in yesterday and told me I was done. No reason. I got a month’s severance and have to be out of the parsonage within two weeks.

What are you planning to do?

That depends on your answer to the question I’m about to ask.

Hayden spoke immediately, Of course, you can stay here. As long as you need.

Thank you. We should be able to get packed and be there by this coming week-end.

Bill’s father-in-law hesitated a beat before speaking. I don’t want to start an argument. But...do you need a job?

Bill’s relationship with his father-in-law had generally been good except when this question had come up. Hayden had always considered the ministry to be a low income, unstable profession and a passing phase of Bill’s life. Bill had prepared himself for the question but it rankled anyway. He looked at Emily and saw her eyes were brimming with tears.

He answered the question, Yes.

That’s wonderful! You’ll be a great addition to the office.

That sounds great. Thank you. Hayden, I appreciate this.

I’m way behind and need the help. This helps me more than you.

Well... thank you.

Enough of that. Put my granddaughter on. He pulled his mouth away from the phone before he yelled, Anne! You want to talk to our grand-daughter?!

Bill lowered the phone from his ear and called Ruth, Ladybug, do you want to talk to Meemaw and Papaw?

Ruth ran into the room, reaching up for the phone, Meemaw!

***

Packing and making arrangements filled an exhausting two days. A handful of church members called or came by, all claiming ignorance regarding Bill’s sudden termination. No reprieve came from the church board

It was almost 4:30 PM on Tuesday when they were finally ready to pull out of the driveway for the last time. Ruth was squeezed into the middle of the back seat with the appropriate safety restraints. She was wedged between piles of boxes to either side and they had to move two boxes for her to get in or out. Bill had left a tunnel of visibility through the boxes so that he could see out the rear window and check on the U-Haul.

Emily opened the door, carefully placed her left foot among the travel snacks, kids’ DVDs, and reading material filling the passenger’s side floor board. She then sat down in the seat with her right foot raised and looking for a place where it would fit.

He laughed. It’s going to be a long trip with your foot in the air.

Hold on. She assumed an almost contortionist pose as she bent sideways and forwards, wrenched a box of Cheerios free, held it in her hand and slid her foot into the space vacated by the box. She now had a box in her hand. She pondered the box for a moment and then reached it behind her seat and shoved it into the rear floorboard between two boxes. She looked up and smiled. Ready.

Bill looked at his daughter in the rear-view mirror. Are you ready for our next adventure, Ruth?k m

I’m ready!

Then we are on our way!

He had made reservations in Columbia, Missouri for the night. It looked like they would be getting there around 1:00 AM if dinner was fast food and they could limit the other stops to two restroom breaks.

They successfully pulled out of the driveway and into the street and moved slowly past the house in which they had lived for five years. He felt nothing. No pangs or emotions or sadness. Emily turned away from the house and smiled at him. No tears. It was just a house.

Bye House! came from the backseat.

Bill and Emily joined in Bye House!

CHAPTER THREE

––––––––

Two days later, Ruth was cranky and exhausted.

Emily was on edge from lack of sleep.

Bill was so tired that his stomach hurt.

Two back-to-back 13-hour days of driving would do that.

The final push had started at 4:00 in the morning and they were pulling into Hayden and Rosemary Lang’s comfortable 4-bedroom / three-bath suburban home in Las Vegas at 5:30 PM. Surprisingly, exactly on time.

No sooner had the car stopped than Rosemary came running out of the kitchen door wearing old blue jeans, Keds sneakers, and a green Oshkosk B’Gosh t-shirt. 56 years old and in many ways a textbook suburban housewife, Rosemary described herself as a middle-aged tomboy. The first time Bill had met her, she had been on the roof putting tar around a vent.

Meemaw!!!! Ruth yelled. Her crankiness temporarily forgotten.

Hayden came out of the front door wearing work casual – khaki pants, a golf shirt, penny loafers. He greeted Bill with the standard half-handshake/half-hug and then wrapped a big bearhug around his daughter.

You three must be exhausted.

Bill straddled the trailer hitch to open the rear hatch of the car and started pulling out suitcases. We are. And cranky.

Rosemary opened the garage door. We should have plenty of room cleared out in here for your things.

In the long-standing tradition of wives everywhere, Rosemary volunteered her husband to help unload. You two should be finished in no time.

Rosemary led Emily and Ruth single file and with loaded arms into the house.

No time turned out to be a hard 1.5 hours of work and dinner was delayed an hour to return the rented trailer before the deadline. Bill’s shoulders ached and he didn’t want to think about the older man’s back.

By the time they were seated at the dinner table, Ruth’s crankiness had returned in high gear. She was in full pout and refusing to eat her vegetables. The battle of wills between mother and daughter had reached the staring contest point where they glared at each other over the untouched plate.

Well, Hayden attempted to change the focus of the table away from the no-man’s land centered on the cooling green beans, we have a surprise for you three.

Bill waited for Emily to answer but she did not look away from Ruth. So, he leapt into the breach, What’s that?

"One of our clients gave us some free tickets to the Superstar taping here in a couple of weeks."

The television show? Do you watch it?

Sure. But we hate crowds. So, we’re giving the tickets to you.

Bill had never watched the show other than the occasional video of an unusual act on the internet . Uh... Thank you. That sounds like a lot of fun.

At this point, Ruth grudgingly ate the first green bean from her plate, leading to a thawing of tensions around the table.

***

On Monday morning, Hayden introduced Bill around the insurance office.

Monica James stood from her desk where she had been absently clicking her mouse while watching the computer screen. She smiled and extended her hand.

Welcome aboard. We need the help around here. I guess now that we have a preacher working here, I’ll have to watch my language.

He returned the polite smile. That won’t be necessary.

Shit, that’s good.

Hayden took back over. "Bill, you’ll be the Claims Manager. That means that after someone has a car accident or something happens to their house, you’ll be the one that meets with them and works them through the claim process.

You’ll be meeting them right after something has happened and they might need a shoulder to cry on and you are also dealing with them when they have received their settlement and are unhappy with the amount. Lots of emotions both times.

I understand. I hope to be worth the salary.

"You’ll do fine. You also get accounts