The Diamond and the Rough, page 1
part #1 of Jean Archer Series
Camelot in shadow...
From the dark forest that seemed entirely too confining to contain them, two massive, four-legged beasts slowly stalked into the clearing. They didn’t look identical, but shared similar characteristics. It was easy to tell they were massive hounds of some kind. Even on four powerful legs, their heads stood taller than Valera. Claws that resembled sharp talons tore at the forest floor; corruption spread out from each step of the hellish creatures. Spines along their backs flared slightly, like hackles on a threatened animal. Foul smelling, frothing yellow saliva dripped from crushing jaws, sizzling as it hit the ground.
Jean recognized them as larger versions of the beast she’d nearly hit on the drive up to Lost Lake.
“Hellhounds? Couldn’t think of a more descriptive name for them?”
“Jean, this isn’t a game. I’d rather not fight them, if I don’t have to!” Valera called without looking back at them. “Jean!”
“Come on!” Jean growled to herself. She bent down again to try and see in the deep darkness. Then she noticed a slight silver glint and grabbed for it. Sighing as her fingers closed on the hard metal edges of her keys, she snagged them and sat up again. “Got em!” she exclaimed, then looked out her window and screamed. The desiccated corpse of a young man wearing clothing several decades old stood beside her door, watching them.
“Hurry!” Chad exclaimed, even as the spectral teenager reached out and put his hand flat against the driver’s window. Faint ice crystals formed at the edges of his touch...
Praise for SoulChaser
“With an intriguing premise and bloody good action scenes, SoulChaser takes us on a paranormal adventure where death hunts among us, even as we don’t realize it....”
- Chris Marie Green Author of VAMPIRE BABYLON “A fast moving tale of Kiah, a SoulChaser going after a rogue soul from the Abyss, both of them jumping from human to human in the pursuit. And in the bloody chaos that follows, Kiah’s lady-love suddenly disappears without warning or explanation. Read on.”
- James C. Glass Author of VIPER OF PORTELLO “Just finished SoulChaser and I loved it! It hits the ground running and doesn’t let up until the final page. It all added up to some epic story-telling and I honestly can’t wait for the next installment.”
- Keith Knapp Author of MOONLIGHT The Starriders Saga (as J.A. Anderson) Dragon Fire
Rebels Without A Clue P/U (Pranksters United)*
The SoulChaser Universe Earthbound Trilogy:
Earthbound
Heaven’s Eyes*
Flight of Angels*
The Jean Archer Quartet:
The Diamond and the Rough (*forthcoming)
Volume One
The Diamond and the Rough
a novel
Jason A. Anderson
JC Carter, Editor
A
SEG BOOKS Publication
seg-books.com
NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover it is considered a “stripped book” and you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the publisher nor the author has received any payment for this copy.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, places and reference materials portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental and are a product of the author’s imagination.
Jean Archer: The Diamond and the Rough jeanarcher.net
SoulChaser Universe
soulchaser-universe.com
Published by arrangement with the author. “SoulChaser” logo designed by Juan Maestas Cover illustration by Carter Reid
Author photo by Mark Spencer
Copyright © 2013 by Jason A. Anderson All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author, except for inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
SEG Books
P. O. Box 1287
Pleasant Grove, UT 84062
ISBN: 978-0-9830000-6-8 ISBN: 0983000069
First Trade Paperback Edition: October 31, 2013 First Digital Edition: October 31, 2013
Special thanks to Nerd Girl.
- Metal Boy
Prologue
“The Puppet Master” Knoll Mansion loomed dark and foreboding against the gray afternoon sky. The gloomy light hid much of the sprawling structure’s details, effectively masking any observer’s ability to tell where the original manor home ended and the massive add-ons began. The huge building took up the entire top of the hill at the center of the grounds, and without direct sunlight, or lightning from the rains earlier in the day, sat swathed in shadows.
It was Tobias Winkle’s attention to detail that allowed him, the self-proclaimed hobo prophet, to slip onto the Knoll Mansion property. His matted hair snagged against the burrs of the two-foot-hole in the chain link as he pushed his way through, but that didn’t concern him. Chain link and razor-wire still only worked as well as it was maintained, and if a person, or animal, was careful and took the time, they always managed to find a two-foot square hole hidden behind a thicket of brush.
Right now, his gaze and attention were focused exclusively on his goal: the warmth and protection of the huge building on the rise in the middle of the grounds.
He’d had a chance to look around the grounds a little several days ago, locating a couple of historical plaques describing the history of the place. That is, before he had to get away when those two teenage punks snuck in and began looking for a way into the building. He reflected on what he’d learned as he walked. Knoll Mansion, built by wealthy banker Finian McNab in 1941, sat atop a small rise overlooking a vast open field that had once been the cherished front garden of the magnate’s wife Ellen and their children. A panorama of colorful flowerbeds and hedgerows, separated by walk paths, had long ago been ripped out and replaced with simple lawns and pine trees; trees that had long since matured and now broke up the tall field grass with towering greenery.
The original wide cobblestone drive had given way to concrete several years ago...years enough ago that the concrete itself, not maintained in many years, now resembled a patchwork of broken slabs of a graying drive. Despite the disrepair it still lead to the heavy main doors of the mansion.
The rain today had left everything saturated, including Tobias, a point verified as a cold stream of water trickled down the back of his neck, beneath his brownstained overcoat. His dirty blond hair had matted together and dirty streaks trailed down his cheeks and neck. He kept wiping an arm across his forehead to keep his face clear of the moisture.
He’d only been in Shadow Valley for a couple weeks so he had no idea if the amount of rain the area had been experiencing was considered out-of-the-ordinary, but he definitely found it inconvenient. The rain had finally let up for the moment, coming down less as droplets but more a heavy, cloying mist.
“At least I’ll smell better. Cleanliness is next to Godliness, and fifteen miles north of Reading,” he joked to himself as he emerged from the thick foliage.
A heavy man, his feet sank almost to the ankles of the Reebok running shoes that were a size too large. Still, he was glad to have them.
“Good thing the stupid gang banger hadn’t needed them anymore.”
Tobias stepped onto the broken concrete drive. From here it looked like a weird puzzle of pale gray pieces separated by muddy trails the color of milk chocolate. He was grateful for the torn old sneakers as he trudged along.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the cement steps that lead up to the building’s closest door.
Knoll Mansion’s main house remained intact. Four main floors and an expansive basement, it towered over the covered entry, intended to protect those entering and leaving the huge house from inclement weather. Heavy wood double-doors hung on rusty hinges and the industrial chain and padlock meant that no matter how much he pushed or pulled, those doors weren’t going to open. Invigorated by overcoming the first challenge of rusty chain link, Tobias refused to be deterred by the locked doors. Immediately he stumbled down the steps and headed to his left, toward the rearward side of the plantation style manor home. This time his efforts were rewarded not by a main entry, but by a small door that entered into a partially submerged room.
“Beat it,” he muttered to the plump black spider lounging on her web spanning the interior of the doorway. It plopped to the floor and made small wispy sounds as it dragged its well-fed body into the shadows blacker than she was. Long ago Tobias had overcome any aversion to spiders or creepy crawlies in the dark.
Crimson liquid... thick... cooling down... draining away... lifeless...
The sudden unease had Tobias glancing around. Above, the swirling storm clouds – a heavy and looming gray – cut loose with a torrent so violent it nearly swept horizontal rather than vertical. Thunder crashed and echoed through the expansive canyon valley.
Tobias was so nearly overcome with relief, having found shelter from the valley’s propensities for sudden downpours, that his eyes watered and threatened to spill tears down his dirt streaked cheeks.
“Sometimes the good Lord helps those that help themselves. And aren’t I good at helping myself.” His enthusiasm energized and mood improved, the homeless man, whom no one cared for and had no ties to anyone anywhere, entered the Knoll Mansion
Screams of children... torn and slashed... a mother’s cries... pale flesh... lightless eyes...
He shook off the sudden creepy sensation and with reckless anticipation worked his way to the far back wall of the room. Once there, he found what he sought: three spongy wood steps up to an interior door that only took a little bit of push and pull before it opened into the basement pantry of the house.
It didn’t take long for him to find stairs from the lower floor kitchen leading up into the body of the main building. The murky light from the iron gated windows only let in a little more illumination, but it was still an improvement from the dark basement.
Tobias knew little about the value of cornice work, hardwood floors or the black marble theme used on banisters, the front main staircase and all of the fireplace mantles. The huge establishment had gone through two major additions: once as a short-lived luxury hotel, the second to convert as a sanitarium. None of that mattered to Tobias, with the exception that he estimated the massive building would take many hours to explore. Even with his limited experiences in Shadow Valley, he guessed the Mansion could easily be the largest building in the vast mountain region.
Streaks across the wall... liquid rainbow all in red... lungs collapsed, compressed... final, gurgling gasps...
One thing he couldn’t seem to escape, the overall feeling of creepiness throughout the place. The kind of life he’d lead, he’d “seen a thing or two”, and more than a handful of them he never wanted to see again. Now, those experiences came flooding back to him in the form of a giant goat’s head painted on the wall in dark brown, curled horns and all. The horned beast wasn’t the only image that concerned him. Though not a professor of symbolism, he still considered himself a “man of the world”. Here there was an upside-down pentagram, the star’s lower points aimed skyward. There, strange wisps and curls that looked like energy being summoned from a large stone into a gaping, grinning mouth. Others depicted violent acts, such as human sacrifice. Most of the designs he saw now held no real meaning for him.
“Probably originally in cow or chicken blood, with my luck,” he said, then immediately wished he hadn’t. A few steps on he traced his hand along the rotting cloth paper lining the hallways and smirked at the profanity and dirty poems scrawled on the wall; he kicked at a small pile of torn white linens that looked like they had once been some thing’s nest. The toe of his shoe dislodged something shiny and he nuzzled the rubber toe further into the pile. When he snagged something, he pulled out what turned out to be a discarded straight-jacket. Reaching down, he snagged the inside of a buckle with a finger and held it aloft. With the buckle at eye-level, the restraints still touched the floor near his feet. It turned out the jacket made up most of the pile of fabric.
“Wow, new surprises around every turn.”
Tobias made a point of trying to ignore the sensation of being watched as he made his way through the halls. Windows and floors vibrated from the violence of the storm raging all around the building, shaking the exposed wiring where grand chandeliers and lights for operating theaters once hung, now dangling exposed and bare. Dragging the restraint behind him, much as a small child might a favorite blanket, Tobias walked into one of the observation rooms that overlooked a large stage. As he took in the sweeping, narrow length of the observation room, and knowing that the Asylum’s mini-theater had been converted into an operating theater, it didn’t surprise him to see the remnants of a surgical table in the room below.
He found the sight of the dilapidated surgical theater one of the more disturbing of all he’d already seen, including the demonic graffiti in the main hall downstairs. His mind’s eye couldn’t resist filling the observation room with spectacled academics and the room below took on a shiny, newness, complete with a stainless steel surgical table and a familiar man laying on it. He hadn’t ever seen himself from a third-party perspective, except in pictures. Until now. There he lay, his eyes dazed and drugged; the white sheet open at his middle and his abdomen flayed back carefully in a swath of liquid crimson.
The Entity watching... waiting... whispering... haunting... anxious...
Tobias shook his head violently to keep his imagination from filling in any more hideous detail. The observation glass evaporated before him, leaving the dilapidated room below, empty and lifeless as before.
His mood darkened, Tobias dropped the straightjacket where he stood and left the observation room. He could feel the building rattling like old bones in a wooden coffin as the storm battered the area. His unease increased with every step he took and by the time he reached the wide staircase still adorning the front foyer, he took the steps two-at-a-time to the main level. As his feet touched the imported Italian marble floor, simultaneous lightning flashes strobed through the foyer.
A shadow seemed to move to his left, only visible in his peripheral vision.
“Here kitty-kitty-kitty,” he grumbled, more to hear his own voice than to attract the attention of any felines that may be nearby.
Tobias squinted against the glare and slid to a stop on the dusty surface when he spotted beyond the security mesh and dirt-encrusted foyer windows what appeared to be massive flying shadows. More lightning didn’t reveal any additional details, so he slowly stepped toward the large front doors. The electric flashes outside continued every few seconds, as did the shadows moving past the safety of the barred and chained entrance.
Steeling himself, Tobias reached out to grasp the ornate door handle. Less than an inch away, a massive arc of power leaped from the handle into Tobias’s hand! The force of the shock knocked him across the foyer; he slid to an abrupt and painful stop against the bottom step of the staircase. His eyes wide, he watched as electricity arced all through the foyer in great streaks and bursts. After several seconds fearing he would be shocked again, the energy dissipated and the empty room grew dark again. Darker now, he noticed, since no light came in through the foyer windows. It seemed like a black shroud had been draped over the outside of the building.
Tobias climbed to shaky feet, cradling his burned hand against his chest. He peered at the foyer windows, leaning forward rather than taking a single step closer to them.
Hungry... hungry... hungry!!! FEED!!!
Not a voice he heard out loud, Tobias felt the threat nonetheless. Swallowing his own fear, he turned and ran down the side hall that he had explored earlier. The graffiti on the walls, that had seemed like nothing more than idle fun or ignorant posturing, now glowed a sickly greenishyellow color that lit the corridor in a nauseating hue.
The corridor ended at one of the large social rooms in the original Mansion.
All hope fled from Tobias when he saw the darkness outside also shrouded the room’s large windows. He couldn’t even see the iron grating that secured them from the outside.
That was when he noticed the atmosphere in the room felt heavier, almost oppressive. His normal senses told him nothing had changed, but at a deeper -- some may say spiritual -- level, he knew a change had occurred. A presence had entered the room.
The Entity hungry... murderous... sadistic... compassionless...
Opposite him was the wide entry to the room, its French doors long ago ripped from their hinges and most likely burned for their warmth in the fireplace off to his right.
In the archway, something shimmered as if the moonlight couldn’t quite find it. Tobias had no idea what it was; all he knew was that except for the occasional glimmer, the entryway appeared empty. As fear began creeping up from his feet, tingling its way up his spine and causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, he held his breath and froze. He didn’t want anything noticing him, especially if he could hide deep within the room’s shadows.
