A Work in Progress

(The following is an excerpt from a book I am currently writing. Comments are welcome.)

As he stood there reading and re-reading their names in the dull, forlorn marble, wondering where the last three years of his life had gone, Austin began to imagine what it would have been like if that accident had never happened. It was early January and the morning dew was still clinging to the blades of grass, soaking through his jeans as he knelt in front of their grave markers. The wind had a chill to it that he couldn’t remember ever feeling before, and the freezing rain gently pattering against his face and hands was beginning to make his whole body feel numb. As he pressed the cold steel to his temple, he briefly wondered if anyone would even miss him once he was gone. After all, there in front of him, buried beneath the earth, was everything – everyone – that he cherished in his life.

As a particularly bitter cold gust of wind rushed through his wool overcoat, he found himself strangely amused by the idea of whether he would feel the searing heat from the muzzle blast in his last moment. It was the first time he had felt anything but overwhelming depression since he awoke from the coma eight days ago. But now he was here; at the end of his life, not wanting to take the time to think about the past, for fear that it might give him some reason to live on in this miserable existence. Dragging out this depression was the last thing he wanted to do.

As Austin thought about their faces; his beautiful wife, two amazing boys, and his sweet, affectionate daughter, all he wanted – all he longed for – was to join them. To wrap them up in his arms and hold onto them forever. He closed his eyes and could see them all, clear as though they were standing right in front of him.

Mark and David were roughing around in the yard, rolling over one another, each trying to pry whatever it was they were fighting over from the other’s hands. Lizzy, as usual, was standing over them with a look of contemptuous disappointment on her face. Austin suppressed a chuckle recalling that she had inherited that look from her mother, and she always donned it perfectly every time the boys fought over something. Their mother – “My dear, sweet Elizabeth” he said aloud as he thought of her – was sitting in her lawn chair under the shade of the big oak tree, occasionally looking over the worn pages of her favorite book just to make sure they weren’t getting too rough. “Easy now” she would calmly say intermittently just to remind them she was there watching. It was her token phrase, and just thinking of her voice made Austin yearn that much more to see her, to be with her again.

That seemed a fitting thought to go out with. All that was left to do now was to gently squeeze the trigger…

Then it happened. Quite suddenly he was brought out of his daydreaming by a swift blow that had landed on the back of his right arm. The pistol had been knocked free from his hand, and next moment he was fully collapsed with the weight of a grown man upon his back. He knew instantly that it was in fact a rather strong, well-built man who now lay forcefully upon his back due to the brutish nature in which he had been tackled to the ground. Taken by surprise, Austin didn’t realize he’d actually been injured until he felt a warm trickle flowing down the side of his face followed by a searing pain. He realized that his right cheek must’ve grazed the corner of the grave marker when he fell, and was now pouring blood down into his eyes and nose.

“Easy now” whispered a rather gravely voice just behind Austin’s left ear. He instantly thought of Elizabeth and that this man must’ve known her. To choose these as his first words to Austin must’ve been the man’s way of trying to reassure him of that very fact. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he continued, “and I must take you alive. I will explain everything later, but for now I am going to release you. You in turn are going to slowly rise to your feet, dust yourself off, and then you’re going to leave this place with me at once.”

“Why would I do that?” Austin questioned in as tough and defiant voice as he could, suppressing the pain that was made even worse when his mouth moved. His words were barely audible given that his face was currently being pressed hard into the ground. But the man apparently had no trouble hearing him. His face was, after all, mere inches away from Austin’s.

“Because” whispered the stranger, “your family is still alive. I can help you find them. But first you must do something for me.” The stranger paused for a moment before adding, “I’ve been looking for you for a long time. You’re a difficult man to find, Mr. Pierce, especially with the Devotees keeping you so well hidden. But quickly now. We must go before they find us here. There will be time to speak once we are on our way.”