The Apocalypse Script by Samuel Fort

Author:Samuel Fort
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: revelation, armageddon, apocalyptic fiction, bilderberg group, lovecraft mythos, feudal fantasy, end age prophecies, illuminati fiction, conspiracy fiction, shtf fiction

Chapter 25 - Daybreak

Ben awoke with a start and for a moment was unsure where he was. A pinkish light streamed through the room’s white curtains. Lilian lay next to him with an arm wrapped around his stomach but Fiela was gone. Carefully removing Lilian’s arm, he rose and put on his pants. He walked to the window, moved the curtain aside, and saw an approaching semitrailer straining to climb the steep incline that marked the final approach to the hotel. Behind it were four other trucks.

The door to the bedroom flew open, startling Ben. Fiela rushed in wearing a sweaty black tee shirt and shorts. “Trucks!” she exclaimed excitedly, as if she’d never seen such vehicles before.

“Yeah, I saw them. You’re up already?”

“Already?” asked the girl. “Husband, the sun is already rising.”

Only then did he see that she had towed her uncle to the room by the hand. The unkempt, disoriented man had clearly been dragged from his bed.

Looking a little out of breath, he said, “My apologies for the interruption, nephew. Fiela insisted I come and explain. Some trucks are here carrying surprises for my two former charges. I thought it would be helpful if I brought some tailors, jewelers, and other vendors here so that they could prepare for the reception.”

“The trucks drove here from Denver?”

“No, the trucks are from Los Angeles. Lilian has particular tastes.”

Los Angeles, Ben marveled. That must have been arranged days ago, or weeks. Yet again he felt like a cog in an invisible machine. Checking the clock next to the bed, he said, “Maybe it’s time I got up, anyway.”

“Do as you like,” said the scribe. “I’m returning to my room, if my niece will allow it. I will tell the fetches to prepare breakfast.”

At last Lilian stirred. She sat up, bleary eyed, and when she saw Ridley she pulled the sheets up to her neck. “What’s going on?” she asked in a throaty morning voice.

“Gifts, Sister!” Fiela exclaimed. “Thank you, uncle!” She put her arms around the escaping man’s neck and kissed the back of his head. “You do not need to summon the fetches. I will prepare our breakfast. I know what Ben likes.”

Ben couldn’t remember ever having been asked what he liked and knew that another plate of fried eggs and toast were in his future. He said, “Maybe you’d rather shower and let the cooks take care of that?”

“No, it’s okay,” she said, heading toward the hallway. “I’ll shower later.”

When she and Ridley were gone, Lilian looked at Ben and said, uncomprehendingly, “Trucks?”

Ben updated the woozy woman. She smiled weakly when she at last understood. “That was nice of him.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. “A little bit of a hangover.”

“From the drugs?”

“Herbs,” she said, holding up a finger to correct him. “But yes.”

Walking over to the bed he said, “How was your mystic voyage?”

The woman searched his expression. She hadn’t exactly deceived him but she hadn’t been forthcoming either, and both knew it.

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