The Lights Over Jupiter Point: Book 1 Page 2

  “Alex, I’m glad you got me.”

  “Me too,” Alexander confessed. He removed his thin jacket and wrapped it around his little brother.

  “Let’s head over to the park,” Alexander whispered.

  “But shouldn’t we head back towards the road? That’s where mom is.”

  “No. Bad things can happen to us if we walk on that road at night,” Alexander explained. He had heard the hitchhiker stories a million times.

  “You mean like kidnapping us? Like on that tv show last night? The one when the orphan runs away and a big ugly guy tries to…”

  “Yeah, that one,” Alexander interrupted. It was too dark to entertain horror movies. He was already more frightened than he’d ever been in his life.

  “We’ll go to the park. There’s a place over there where we can build a fire. Come on. Let’s go.”

  It was about an hour before they reached their destination. The two boys gratefully burst out of the darkness and into the moonlit clearing of the park. They were exhausted. Alexander breathed heavily, mostly from the fear of what animal could be tracking them in the forest. But he was also breathing hard because he had all but carried his little brother. Samuel’s small legs had been too short to keep up with his big brother – so between spurts of walking, Alexander had lifted him on his back. And now he was exhausted. He hadn’t realized how much work bringing a bag of clothing while also carrying his little brother would be.

  “Hey, Alex. What do you think happened to mom?” asked Samuel as he clutched his little knees, trying to catch his breath.

  “I don’t know. Mike is lying. Anybody could see that,” exclaimed Alexander between breaths.

  “Yeah, alcoholics are pretty dumb,” replied Samuel. Alexander laughed at his little brother’s words. He was amazed at how his kid brother had developed the same snappy sense of humor that he did. Suddenly Alexander spotted a bench in the corner of the park.

  “Hey, let’s go over there.” He said, pointing to the bench. The two boys walked over to the seat and flopped down.

  “Should we build a fire?” asked Samuel.

  “Yeah, I think it’s a good idea. It’ll keep the animals away from us during the night,” advised Alexander. The two boys picked up several sticks from the edge of the forest until they had enough to build a sizable pile.

  “Now I just need to light it somehow,” Alexander stated. He’d seen those shows of men rubbing two sticks together to get smoke. He didn’t know if he would be able to do it, but Alexander figured he’d give it a try.

  “Will this help?” asked Samuel. He held out a small red Bic lighter to his brother.

  “Where’d you get this?” asked Alexander.

  “I swiped it from Mike’s truck,” he responded.

  “I told you alcoholics are stupid.” The two boys burst into laughter. After gathering a few dry leaves, Alexander lit the pile. Within minutes they were sitting by a warm toasty fire.

  Neither of them noticed the shadow approaching them from within the forest.

  As the fire warmed the boys, sleep began to pull upon their eyelids. Alexander dug into the bag and pulled out a blanket.

  “Here. Let’s wrap ourselves in this,” Alexander recommended. The two boys placed the blanket on the ground and rolled themselves in it. Alexander took one of his mom’s dresses and fashioned it like a little pillow. He put it under his brother’s head as Samuel drifted off to sleep.

  Alexander was a little more vigilant than his kid brother. He’d heard the stories of wild animals attacking people by campfires, pulling them off into the forest, never to be heard of again. He wondered what animals had eaten them. Wolves? Maybe a big bear got to them and finished the job. While these thoughts bounced around in his head, his eyelids became heavier and heavier. His eyes opened and shut like the automatic blinders in his classroom. One moment he was looking at the warm campfire. The next, he was sleeping. Battling the inevitable slumber, he reopened his eyes. Alexander saw the silhouette of a man walking from the tree line towards them. Was he dreaming? Who was the man that was approaching them? After convincing himself that he was dreaming, he closed his eyes again. Alexander struggled mightily to reopen his eyes. Through the haze of fatigue, he could see the man had almost reached them. The stranger appeared to be gliding instead of walking. Alexander could now see the face of the man standing over the two of them. Through the mist of the night, the stranger’s green eyes dazzled like jewels. He wore a smile so warm that Alexander returned the gesture. But fatigue was too intense, and sleep consumed him for the night.

  As the man stood above the sleeping children, his warm smile melted away from his face. Beams of light poured from his green eyes and crawled over the bodies of the children like headlights. He was searching the children’s thoughts, their emotions.

  Suddenly his face twisted into an angry scowl. Something within the boys’ minds made him furious.

  “He will like them,” he whispered into the cold night air.

  The stranger rolled up his left shirt sleeve and extended one of his arms into the sky. Suddenly, numerous lightning bolts struck his arm, lighting up the forest around them like brilliant fireworks in the night. A long beam of electricity began shooting from the man’s arm and into the sky. It looked as though the arm was a beacon of sorts; it seemed to be a lighthouse for something supernatural. The man remained firmly in place as seemingly constant volts of electricity poured from his arm; his green eyes grew brighter and brighter. After a few minutes, the electricity stopped coming from the stranger’s arm. After lowering his arm, he rolled down the sleeve of his shirt and stood in silence.

  A tree across the park shook. The man smiled in approval as other trees and bushes began to shake. Thunderous growls started to shake the forest as the stranger smiled in contentment. After a while, everything stopped shaking and went silent.

  “Now.” The stranger whispered.

  From far across the park, an enormous white wolf emerged from the tree line. The animal was almost the size of a small house. Its long white hair, puffy like a lion’s mane. The animal took deliberate slow steps as it walked towards its caller, the long claws lifting thick clumps of dirt and grass as it walked. As it reached the clearing, it stopped, raised its large head to the heavens, and let out a deep howl. Seconds later, numerous white wolves poured from the forest into the clearing. There were small and large wolves. There were wolves blinded in battle and others missing limbs. But they were all as white as snow, eager to do the bidding of their leader, the giant wolf.

  As the wolves stood around the shadowy man, the large group began to part. Four baby white wolf cubs pushed through the group and lay next to the sleeping children. Each of the cubs snuggled within the children’s arms, allowing them to grasp the scruff of their necks as they peacefully slept. The other wolves formed a circle around the cubs, keeping a watchful eye on the forest's dangers.

  Satisfied, the strange man turned away from the large group of wolves and began walking into the dark forest. As he moved towards the forest, the stranger opened his palm, and a giant ball of energy lifted from it, hovering slightly above his palm. Within the ball, there were images. The stranger smiled as a picture of the children’s mom came into view. She was on the floor of a bathroom next to a toilet. Her brunette hair a tangled mess as it lay in the pool of blood all around her body. Her eyes were open with white foam pouring from her mouth. She was dead.

  Suddenly other images appeared within the ball. Mike appeared standing above the deceased woman’s body, yelling and screaming. Spit flew from his mouth as he shouted in a fit of rage. He grabbed a handful of the woman’s brown hair, lifted her limp head from the floor, and smashed it repeatedly into the edge of the toilet — a dent formed above the woman’s head. Still, Mike continued to yell at the body in a murderous rage. He stormed out of the bathroom, dropping the woman’s head carelessly on the floor. Soon Mike returned, holding an old rusty hatchet. Grunting, he lifted his girlfriend’s body from the
floor and threw it into the bathtub beside the toilet. He began swinging the hatchet wildly – blood flying all over the bathroom as he dismembered the corpse.

  The stranger smiled.

  “You are useful.” He whispered as he walked into the forest, disappearing into the darkness.

  Chapter 4: The Soul of Mike Pt. 1

  “Give me another beer,” Mike demanded. His words slurred as he held up his hand to get the bartender’s attention. His bloodshot eyes were barely open as he swayed on his barstool.

  “Hey Mike, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” the bartender asked as she wiped down the counter behind the bar. Mike hiccupped and rambled on.

  “You don’t… tell me when I’ve had enough,” he stammered.

  “I tell you… when I’ve had enough, you college cunt. Now give me my drink,” the drunk man demanded. The young bartender glanced over at the bouncer who had moved closer. She put up her hand to let him know she had the situation under control. Mike was a regular. Although he could be a real jerk when he was drinking, she knew how to handle him most of the time.

  “That wasn’t a nice thing to say to me, Mike. You can have one more, but then you have to go. We can’t lose our liquor license because we gave you all you could drink.” She explained to him.

  “Yeah… Thanks. I appreciate that. And hey, I didn’t mean any harm by that. You know I love you, Jules. You’re the nicest thing in my life. Okay, baby?” he sputtered to the young bartender. Quickly she filled a glass from the tap and placed it in front of him.

  “This is the last one, Mike, okay?” Julie reminded him.

  “Okay, baby girl. You’re the best,” Mike stopped talking long enough to guzzle the frosty mug of beer sitting in front of him. He immediately continued his conversation with the other men at the bar.

  “All those damned Democrats care about is taking money from hardworking Americans,” Mike explained to the four other patrons sitting at the bar. They each mumbled in agreement.

  Just at that moment, the door opened, and a tall man entered. Everyone sitting at the bar turned to look at the strange man. Nobody recognized him, so they all resumed drinking their beers.

  “Hey, you only have about an hour before the last call,” Julie warned. The stranger strolled to the open bar seat in front of her and sat down. As he removed his black hat, long blonde locks of hair fell upon his shoulders. The bartender dropped her towel on the floor. She was stunned by the stranger’s unearthly good looks. His beard was blond and was only a stubble against a golden-brown face. The stranger’s green eyes were compelling to the bartender; she felt butterflies in her stomach as she remained trapped within the power of his trance.

  “Can I get you something?” she asked as she blushed.

  “Yes, dear. Can I please have a glass of water?” the stranger asked. The waitress's mouth dropped open. His voice was as smooth as cream as it dripped from his lips. She rushed to the compact refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of filtered water, and poured it into a glass – all while continuing to look at the good-looking man sitting in front of her. She quickly put the glass on the table.

  “I haven’t seen you here before. What’s your name?” she asked nervously. He looked at the young bartender curiously, all the while smiling at her advances. He drank the water from the glass until it was empty and then responded.

  “My name is Mateo.” He whispered as he placed the glass softly on the counter.

  “Hi, I’m Julie. But all of the bums around here call me Jules,” Julie offered. Forgetting herself, she decided to dig a little deeper into Mr. Green Eyes.

  “What brings you to these parts?”

  The man thought for a moment and then responded.

  “Work.” He whispered.

  “So, what do you do? You got your own business?” Julie asked, leaning over the counter. There was no way she was letting this guy escape without giving him her number. One of the other patrons yelled at her from the other end of the bar.

  “Hey, Jules! How about doing some work instead of flapping your gums to lord fuck-pants over there?” the chubby middle-aged man yelled. The group of men sitting at the bar erupted in laughter.

  “Hold your horses, Bill! Your drunk ass can wait a few seconds.” Julie responded, sliding a beer bottle down the bar to his seat. Once again, everyone laughed. She returned her attention to the man sitting in front of her.

  “So, what kind of work do you do?” she continued. The more Julie engaged him in conversation, the more relaxed she felt. She could feel herself being pulled into his eyes, into his life piece by piece. She was attracted to him beyond the physical.

  “What do I do?” he repeated, leaning forward on his barstool.

  “I kill people.”

  All of the chatter at the bar stopped. The group of men all stared at the tall man sitting at the end of the bar. They whispered to one another to confirm what they had heard. Slowly, Julie backed away from the bar.

  “What did you say?” she asked, a fake smile masking her fear. Mateo spoke again without hesitation.

  “I said, I kill people.” He repeated. The bar was silent. Slowly the bouncer moved closer. He’d heard the man’s words.

  “You mean like a bounty hunter or something? Like a soldier?” Julie asked, unwilling to accept the response Mateo had presented.

  “I mean, I find evil people, and I kill them,” he explained. Mateo turned and looked directly at Mike and smiled.

  “I find people who abuse the helpless. People who don’t value life. People who mistreat children. People who take advantage of pain and sorrow. People who don’t honor the promises to God.”

  Mateo stood and began walking to the end of the bar. His feet rumbled the wooden floor with each step. The customer on the barstool next to Mike’s vacated his seat. Mateo was standing in front of Mike now, an intimidating figure sizing him up from head to toe.

  “I kill the wicked. Men who would harm the children of our creator. Men who would dismember their lovers and try to destroy their children to hide their guilt. Yes, I kill.” He whispered into the face of Mike. A pool of urine poured from Mike’s leg onto the floor. He was terrified.

  “Hey guys, whatever disagreement you have, take it outside. We don’t need any trouble in here.” Stated the bouncer, trying to be the voice of reason. Mateo turned to him and whispered,

  “Calvin, is it?” Mateo asked, his eyes probing the face of the bouncer.

  “December 13th, 2002. The only thing that has saved you is your repentance. But your incident of murder is still fresh within my mind. Do you wish to test the limits of forgiveness?” he whispered. The bouncer’s face turned as white as a sheet as he backed away from Mateo in fear.

  Smiling, Mateo shook his head in agreement and returned to his barstool. After retrieving his hat and fixing it firmly on his head, he reached into his back pocket, retrieved a one-hundred-dollar bill, and dropped it on the bar.

  “For my honest tongue, I beg your forgiveness.” He whispered to Julie. She was mystified, her face a white sheet of fear. Mateo turned, donned his black hat, and walked out of the door.

  Chapter 5: The Soul of Mike Pt.2

  It was 2:30 in the morning when Mike left the bar. Most patrons were scared to go home after the stranger’s visit – including Julie, the bartender. After the tall strange guy had left, she’d called the police. But Mike had been smart enough to leave. Drunk or not, he didn’t want to bring attention to what he had done earlier that day.

  As he swerved through the empty streets of downtown, Mike began thinking about the day’s events. He couldn’t quite understand what had happened. Monica had pissed him off when she accused him of taking part of her rent money from her purse. He’d done it but became so pissed off when she confronted him that he just exploded in anger. Mike didn’t mean to kill her. It just – happened.

  After taking a long swig from the bottle of whiskey he’d purchased, Mike began having difficulty driving. His eyelids felt like he was holding u
p iron skillets. The road started to move in and out of his vision like a snake. The steering wheel slipped through his grasp as he struggled to drive through the dangerous streets. Still, he clutched his bottle, managing to take several gulps between his near fatalities. As he fell asleep and drifted into oncoming traffic, a driver blew their horn wildly, waking him up just in time to avoid certain death. Through his haze of alcohol, the road grew narrower. Within seconds he was fast asleep at the wheel again, this time unable to wake in time. The car spun around several times, crashing into a ditch.

  “Shit,” Mike mumbled. As he climbed out of the car, he let go of another expletive. White smoke billowed from the hood of the car into the night sky.

  “How the hell am I going to get home now?” he asked.

  Mike stumbled around in circles, trying to gather his bearings on the location. Although he couldn’t place the name, the area seemed familiar to him. Within a few seconds, he saw a dirt road leading up a hill into a forest. There was a sign next to the road:

  Jupiter Falls Picnic Area Straight Ahead

  “What? No. No. No. What the fuck is this? How?” he asked incredulously. Mike stood at the same road entrance he had dropped the two boys off earlier that night. Although the alcohol was thick in his head, he knew this was beyond coincidence. Something must’ve guided him here.

  “It’s you. I know it! You son of a bitch! You devil!” Mike screamed into the cold night air. Suddenly, as if responding to his accusation, a thick layer of fog crept down the dirt road stopping at his feet. It was as though the forest was beckoning – challenging him.

  “What? Do you think I’m scared? You think I don’t have the balls?” Mike screamed out. He began walking up the dirt road in defiance.

  “You don’t scare me, you piece of shit!”