Stormbreak (The Serenity Strain Book 1) by Chris Pourteau

Author:Chris Pourteau [Pourteau, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12. Sunday, morning.

He’d thought it a cruel joke, the blindness. He’d raged at God. Invited Him to come down off His pearly white throne and meet the Maestro. That’s what he was calling himself now. She’d given the name to him in his dream of darkness: Marsten the Maestro. The conductor of a symphony of suffering, she’d said. That’s what he’d be. He’d compose his personal masterpiece in bloody notes written on page after page of human skin, she’d said. This was his new and only purpose in life.

After leaving the prison, Marsten and the five other Serenity test subjects made their way to the center of town, sheltering where they could against the weather. At last, that was tapering off, though strange, foggy cumulus clouds were rolling in from the south. He knew of whence they came, but for now, Marsten kept it to himself. The devastation wrought first by Glenn, then by Helen was massive. Apartment complexes destroyed. Churches razed. Homes with roofs torn off. Bodies floating in low-lying areas. Occasionally, the group would run across an individual or family hunkered down in an apartment or home. The six of them made short, satisfying work of anyone who resisted. Soon their white jumpsuits were replaced with the finest fashion the township of Huntsville could offer.

No sooner were they standing at the Walker County Courthouse, Marsten’s immediate goal for a reason he neglected to explain, than the orange flash overwhelmed their sight. Like the brightest of sunspots, only totally enveloping everyone and everything. The others went nuts big time when they realized they’d lost their vision. Smack started chattering about Judgment Day. Simpson had wanted to run away, and Marsten almost let him just to get rid of him. Juggs bitched like Juggs always did. Everything was always about her. And Franklin—Franklin was quiet as a church mouse, which annoyed the Maestro most of all. The only way Marsten had known Franklin was still with them was by calling roll after everyone calmed down. He’d answered. Quietly.

Of all of them, Maggie Mae—what he called her, though it wasn’t really her name—impressed him the most with her reaction. She’d laughed out loud. Said something about God’s ironic sense of humor. That’s when Marsten had invited Him to come on down and meet the Maestro. Maggie laughed harder at that, encouraging his challenge. He’d felt her hands on him shortly thereafter. And she’d whispered in his ear with a voice so sultry and wet with heat that he’d taken her right then and there in the courthouse lobby.

The others listened while they grunted and moaned, each responding entirely in character. Smack provided blow-by-blow commentary on what he could hear. Simpson complained about the noises they were making, in case the law was around. Juggs critiqued the sounds of their performance. Franklin said nothing at all.

Screwing without eyesight was a totally new experience for Marsten. It was even more interesting than doing it in the dark. Being blind could be fun. There was always an upside.

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