What Lurks Between - A SciFi Horror Novella - Part One

This is a novella I wrote and published a few years ago. I'll be posting it serially by scene. There are thirty-one scenes total, and I'll do two or three a week. So this will continue over the next couple months.

Hope you don't mind.

In this first post I'm combining the first two scene breaks, mostly because the first isn't really a scene just an opening. But hey, you get two for the price of one today. Am I not kind? ;)

Enjoy!

What Lurks Between

It came from outer space.

Well…sort of.

It actually came out of my lunchbox. But I brought my lunchbox into outer space that day, and trust me, it was not in that lunchbox before I went up. That’s how come I can say it came from outer space.

What was it? Long story, but it starts simply enough.

So there I was, and this is a no shi— Erm…sorry. That’s the Navy in me coming out. But trust me, this really happened.

Really.

Like I said, it started out as just another day on the job…

*****

“Barry!”

I turned away from my locker to see Clark Haberman, the very last person I wanted to deal with, walking toward me. As usual, he wore his light-gray work coveralls, cinched at the waist with a black web belt that supported a number of tool pouches, and a scowl on his weathered face. Christ, what had I done now? I couldn’t think of anything I’d screwed up lately, but Clark never got that look except when something had gone seriously wrong.

“Yeah, boss,” I said, inwardly wincing as I anticipated the diatribe to come. I was amazed when it never did.

“You’ve been reassigned.”

I blinked.

“You hear what I said? You’re not working here anymore.”

So that’s how it was. I sighed and lowered my eyes. I had been fired before, lots of times, but at least the other bosses didn’t screw around trying to make nice about it. “We don’t need you anymore.” “You messed up one too many things.” “Get lost, loser.” I had heard them all. But never reassignment. That was rich.

I let out a bitter laugh before I was able to catch myself. From the corner of my eye, I saw Clark’s eyebrows twitch upward in…confusion?

No way.

“I ain’t joking, dude. They want you up on Ketcham Station, starting today.”

Clark held out a printout as he spoke. Expecting yet another pathetic joke at my expense, I snatched it away and began reading. As I did, my bitterness and fatalism faded, replaced by amazement. And maybe just a smidgen of hope.

“Congratulations,” the note began. I could not recall the last time anyone had congratulated me for anything. It continued, “Your application for service aboard the Ketcham Station has been accepted. You will begin work on 27 April. Report to shuttle station seven at 0930 for transport. Welcome aboard!” The note was unsigned, but it came on company letterhead, and the office code at the top indicated it was from Human Resources.

“I didn’t apply for duty on Ketcham Station,” I murmured.

“I applied for you,” Carl said, his scowl becoming more like a sneer. “You’re always talking about how you should have stayed in the Navy. Ketcham’s a ship. Sort of.” He cleared his throat softly. “Anyway, I figured it was time you moved on to something better.”

Better. Right. The Ketcham Station was a hole, and everyone knew it. Old, dilapidated, and about ready to de-orbit any week now, if the rumor-mill was to be believed. So yeah, I was getting fired again. So much for that smidgen of hope.

Oh well. At least this time I got to keep a paycheck. And, truth be told, if Ketcham Station was as run-down as they said, it would probably have plenty of work to keep an electrician like me busy for a while. Maybe I could rack up some more overtime on this gig.

“Great.” I tried to sound like I meant it. Then I saw the clock: 0900. The shuttle station was a twenty minute walk from the locker room. Crap.

Wasting no time on chit-chat, I turned back to my locker and pulled out my duffle bag. It did not take long to pack all of my stuff; I only kept my lunchbox, a towel and soap, and the clothes I wore to work - jeans, a t-shirt from a trip to the Alamo, and a pair of beat-up sneakers - in there. Other guys kept their lockers full; I guess I never expected to stay all that long.

“Well,” Carl said as I packed up, “good luck up there. Been nice working with you.”

I knew he was lying, but it was nice of him to say it. Maybe he wasn’t a total schmuck after all.

I stepped back from the locker and stared at it for a minute. I had not worked there long, but I had hoped that maybe this time would be different. Seeing the locker empty like that gave me a weird feeling. You know people say it was like someone was walking over their grave? Sort of like that.

But I did not have time to dwell on that if I was going to make the shuttle. With a grunt, I shouldered the duffle bag. Then I tugged the front of my gray work coveralls to smooth them out and turned away. My work boots made hollow echoes as I walked out of the deserted room.

*****

The Story So Far:

1. Part One
2. Part Two
3. Part Three
4. Part Four
5. Part Five

The story's not over, but if you like what you've read so far please go to where it's sold and leave a good review on it, and then buy a copy (I am a professional and like to be paid).

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