The Thrumming Stone by Joe Sullivan & John Brhel

Author:Joe Sullivan & John Brhel [Sullivan, Joe & Brhel, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781093989175
Publisher: Cemetery Gates Media
Published: 2019-04-30T04:00:00+00:00

When I got home that afternoon, I laid out all my gear to show Stephanie. I really thought that, of all people, she might believe me, since she’d been having the nightmares for so long. If she came over; I knew there was a chance that I could lay out the evidence to her, that an apocalyptic event was imminent, and I’d finally have someone on my side.

I laid out my MOPP suits, put together my gas masks, brought out all my survivalist stuff I’d been hiding in my closets and under my bed. I had a few backpacks full of MREs, SpaghettiOs, various supplies to use once I got to a protected environment like a fallout shelter. I had collected a variety of gear and supplies in a relatively short time and my room looked more like a barracks than a teenage boy’s bedroom.

“Joey, what the hell is all this?!” said Tim, who had stepped into my bedroom.

I spun around, surprised that he wasn’t still napping. “Uh...I’m just getting ready for a camping trip with Jay and the Groome twins.”

My dad dug around my equipment, picking out one of my gas masks for inspection. “You need six gas masks and potassium iodide tablets to go camping with the boys?”

I dropped the ruse. “These MOPP suits are gonna save us when the power plant melts down, Dad,” I said, sheepishly.

“Christ, Joe. This has to stop!” I hadn’t seen him this worked up in years. He was livid. A vein in his neck was even bulging. “You’re obsessed with this crap. You’ve got to stop listening to that idiot Bernie—the highlight of that man’s life was ten years working as a Navy cook—he knows nothing! I’ve spent twenty years as an engineer designing and maintaining some of the most complex systems in the world. There’s not going to be a meltdown, the government isn’t coming for our guns, and all you have to worry about is getting good grades and being a kid!”

“I really wish you’d believe me, Dad. There’s this stone in the woods, and it was giving everyone visions of a disaster that would hit Lestershire, and I’ve been keeping a journal, and Mr. Verity says his family has a fallout shelter in Waverly…” I must’ve been babbling, because my dad just cut me off. To be fair, I knew that I’d sound crazy to anyone who hadn’t touched the thrumming stone for themselves.

“That’s enough! I want you to get rid of all this crap by the end of the week. You don’t need a machete, or a dozen flashlights, or all these Army manuals. You’re not going to grow up to become some agoraphobic Unabomber moron. Your sister’s learning to drive; she’s out with her friends, being a teenager. I always said I wouldn’t say stuff like this to my own son, but you need to be interested in girls, sports, things that involve other people your age.” He paused, as if to reconsider something he’d said. “Maybe you’re gay.

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