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  Invisible Dawn

  “Wow. I had intended to only read one or two chapters, but I couldn’t stop [...] Ghosts in the street? Spectral buildings? Would a 9mm pistol be enough to take down someone with an AK57? And then there are those real mercenaries chasing him, at least he thinks so. Images of Blade Runner for some reason kept creeping into my mind. As for the pacing, it’s pretty flawless. The author does a great job of explaining what is happening while somehow keeping things running at a breakneck pace. It’s a real talent. As a cherry on top, the occasional journal entries at the start of chapters shows that this world is well thought out [...] I want to read much more from Weston Kincade.”

  - John Breeden ~ Author, Journalist for Government Computer News Magazine, & Host of Gameindustry.com

  “Grabbed me by the throat and hung on. This is paced fast and necessarily so, no time for languishing around melding into the background with this read. It shocks the primal instincts flight or fight...and you have us, running looking behind us and growing more afraid and angry with every step.”

  - Suzannah Burke ~ Author and Winner of the 2010 Strong Scenes Contest

  “We see - and feel - the 'fragmented mental scrapbook' of the trauma which comes to Daniel, both from his dream and through the recollections which are condensed into the internal monologue. The seedy setting of his apartment, filled with 'stale cigarette smoke,' creates a mood that matches his own [...] Towards the end, a new mystery emerges in the fearful woman with auburn hair, and this hooks me into Chapter 2. I wanted - but didn't need - to read Chapter 2, to know that I was in the hands of an author who could write a thriller which would stand out from the rest.”

  - Raymond Nickford ~ Author of Aristo’s Family

  Invisible Dawn

  Altered Realities: Book One

  by Weston Kincade

  Copyright © 2011 Weston Kincade

  Discover other titles by Weston Kincade at http://www.facebook.com/pages/Weston-Kincade/234714006555362 & http://www.authorwakincade.blogspot.com/.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to give thanks to my editors: David Chrisley, Jeremy Carter, Stephen Marshall, Scott Rhine, and Katy Sozaeva. I also could not have written the novel without the support of my wife, friends, and family. Thank you for everything.

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter - Prologue – Questionable Sanity

  Chapter 1 – Keeping Promises

  Chapter 2 – Undiscovered Talents

  Chapter 3 – A World Apart

  Chapter 4 – Phantom Friends

  Chapter 5 – Flowers can be Venomous

  Chapter 6 – A Fight for Power

  Chapter 7 – Stretching Boundaries

  Chapter 8 – A Father’s Sacrifice

  Chapter 9 - A Show of Loyalty

  Chapter 10 – Makeshift Remedies

  Chapter 11 – Irreparable Mistakes

  Chapter 12 – Truth or Lies?

  Chapter 13 – A Consequence to Every Choice

  Chapter 14 – Forming a Partnership

  Chapter 15 – Family Reunited

  Chapter 16 – Interesting Neighbors

  Chapter 17 – Paient Revenge

  Chapter 18 – Haunting Memories

  Chapter 19 – Blessed Hands

  Chapter 20 – We All Have Secrets

  Chapter 21 – Lacking Modesty

  Chapter 22 – Unexpected Company

  Chapter 23 – Surprising Friendships

  Chapter 24 – Revelations and Inevitability

  Chapter 25 – Unforeseen Developments

  Chapter 26 – Unreasonable Propositions

  Chapter 27 – Brotherly Devotion

  Chapter 28 – Escape

  Chapter 29 – A Barren Future

  A Life of Death Excerpt:

  Chapter 30: 1 – Beginnings

  Chapter 31: 2 – Wednesday

  Chapter 33: 3 – School

  Chapter – Prologue: Questionable Sanity

  For the first few seconds of consciousness, Daniel Robertson sat on the edge of his bed staring at a ghastly image in the full length mirror. A child stared back through eyeless sockets, its skin seared to a charred remnant of its former self. Even in his waking moments, he saw the same nightmarish memory. It was as though sleep had not found him.

  His digital clock glowed red, 5:04 a.m. The nightmares never let him sleep through the night. He groped for the most recent bottle he had haphazardly tossed aside the night before, but gave up when he spotted it on the floor.

  His eyes returned to the wooden stand, but the phantom child was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his own depressed reflection peered back through aged eyes. A large X marred his cheek, long ago healed, but it was a reminder of his inescapable past. Sweat swelled from nowhere and grudgingly streamed down his forty-three-year-old, leathered face. At each wrinkle there was a split-second hesitation.

  Fragments of his past flickered through his mind in a jumbled mess. Piecing them together while semi-conscious was like constructing a jigsaw puzzle. But suddenly the sequence of horrific events snapped into place like snapshots from someone else’s travels. Glimpses of unwanted memories returned that even alcohol could not drive away.

  “As though I could ever forget,” he muttered, thinking back to the horrifying visage.

  The dim glow of a streetlamp streamed through the window and cast tall shadows across the room. His yellow complexion melded with the aged bed sheets like a sickly chameleon. Even in El Paso, a heat wave like this was unusual.

  A slight breeze startled the curtains to life and newspaper clippings fluttered on the wall before resigning to the push pins’ insistence. The sound drew his attention and he flicked on the nearest table lamp. It did little to illuminate the room, but was enough to see by. The victims stared out at him, their lives amounting to a small blurb. Above their heads, the articles announced, ‘Man Found Dead in Car Explosion’, and ‘Woman Killed in Foiled Carjacking’, among others.

  He knew them by heart. Each represented a failed attempt to save his ex-employer’s targets. They were all that remained of his recent pursuit for salvation. He sniffed at the stale tobacco odor that permeated the apartment. It was as though the small space could never get clean; a feeling he was quite familiar with.

  Lifting himself from the bed, he straightened and listened to the crack of his joints. He stretched his arms and crept over to the open window, his dark skin masking the muscular build beneath. With each footstep, the floor announced to his neighbors that he was awake. It was a reminder of the innocent lives he put in jeopardy by staying here for two months. Black Force was after him, and they were just as well trained as he. His old mercenary friends would not take hostages, and they had no qualms with eliminating witnesses.

  He needed to move on before he was found, but it was difficult to give up such an ideal location. One reason he chose this dilapidated part of the city was the unfriendliness of the people. His weathered complexion helped him to blend in, and the fact that he spoke not a word of Spanish afforded him his solitude.

  Daniel smiled as another faint breeze drifted through the window. Seeing an oncoming car, he stepped out of the moonlight and alongside the curtains. There was no need to broadcast his presence. Watching the sidewalk below, his attention was drawn to an interesting in
dividual.

  The man was different from other street inhabitants headed to work. He casually strode under the streetlamps holding an AK-47, but no one took notice. It was like the armed man was invisible. He passed the taco vendor Daniel frequented and even Marco failed to greet him. The old food salesman greeted everyone while grilling his morning breakfast burritos, but somehow he overlooked this man.

  The oddity was barely visible at this distance, but the early risers on the streets should have spotted the gun. His clothes made him stand out like a leopard at a zebra party. Through the sporadic flow of traffic, Daniel watched the man’s russet coat and fedora bob behind passing cars. His checkered golf pants shone under the streetlamps and he walked with a slight spring in his step. He was like an armed ostrich bobbing down the city street, ready to go hunting.

  Could he be with Black Force?

  He doubted it, but what if his old employer had hired someone new? It was odd for a mercenary group to hire out to a competitor, but he might have eluded them too many times. Either way he needed answers to his questions, and this guy might be his key. They were questions that had plagued him for years, like ‘What could he do to stop Black Force or at least get them off his back?’ He just wanted a chance at redemption before he died. The pain he had caused was unforgettable, especially in his dreams.

  His hand unconsciously went to the three scars crisscrossing his large bicep. He ran calloused fingers along the smooth skin. It was not until the last few years that he came to care about others. Up to then, he did what he wanted and what he was told without question. The scars were just a reminder of one of his father’s early lessons on obedience; something his old boss and good-old dad had in common. They did not take ‘no’ for an answer.

  Losing sight of the man behind a group of chatting women, Daniel was startled into action. He needed answers, and this guy was his best chance. He searched the sidewalk for the bounding pedestrian. Seconds later, the man appeared without having lost a step. Anticipating another disappearance, Daniel gave the street a cursory glance.

  Satisfied, he threw a blue button-up over his sweat-stained undershirt. It trailed behind him like a cape as he crossed the room. His hand automatically grabbed his 9-millimeter off the end-table and tucked it into his pants before bringing the door to a close. He had to catch up before the guy vanished again.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, he swept through the first floor foyer and onto the sidewalk. He searched the opposing walkway for the brown fedora. The hat materialized over a taxicab, and the yellow lamplight overhead illuminated its creases like the golden eyes of an animal peering through the shadows.

  Daniel bolted across the busy road and narrowly avoided a rusted-out farm truck. The only warning of its approach was a deep, male voice crooning through its open windows “… oh, mi amor,” while a salsa melody plucked along in the background.

  At least I won’t be the latest obituary in the Sun Herald, he thought as the guitar melody faded.

  He leapt over the last car-length of asphalt and rushed up the sidewalk. Sidestepping the barrage of pedestrians, he weaved through more oncoming groups and attempted to gain on the odd man. Daniel pumped his muscled legs harder. He threaded his way through the sporadic traffic while keeping the man in sight. It still surprised him how many people walked to work on this side of town. He felt like a running-back for the local Panthers football team, dodging moving targets. Unfortunately, he could not remember a game they had won, and his progress was worthy of the same praise. Somehow, the bobbing fedora was still drifting further away. Daniel broke into a run. Passing men and women gave him sidelong glances. A few locals cursed as he shoved them aside, attempting to close the gap with his prey.

  The loud shouts did not bother the man in the fedora. He never turned or glanced back. He just continued down the packed street, his dark hat bobbing over-top the crowd. As Daniel closed the distance, the unusual man walked directly into a father and daughter walking hand-in-hand. The stranger faded into a misty existence and phased through them. Without anyone realizing, the anomaly solidified on the other side and continued as though nothing had happened.

  Daniel halted mid-step as his heart skipped a beat. “Whoa, this guy can’t be Black Force,” he muttered. “He’s like their hopped-up crooked cousin.”

  The possibilities tumbled through his mind. Either way, this guy’s looking for trouble.

  He was tired of waiting for them to find him. He had to act. “There’s no such thing as coincidence,” he whispered with renewed confidence.

  The retired mercenary redoubled his pace and began gaining on the fedora. The old courthouse was around the next bend, and the sidewalk grew more congested. His broad shoulders cowed some people, but others he cast aside like scattered chess pieces. Faces whizzed by in a blur, man … man … woman … man ... child, but his attention remained on the armed stranger.

  Daniel made his way to the corner, but was unable to reach his prey before the man entered the busy street. Stepping out of the packed sidewalk, the ex-mercenary stopped at the curb edge to watch the man cross. The armed apparition passed through cars undetected, heading for the municipal building. The muzzle of his rapid-fire gun came up as he approached the building front, but still no one reacted.

  The veteran’s gaze followed the apparition across as the sun peaked over the mountainous horizon. But his eyes stopped abruptly when the courthouse came into view. Around it was a dimly outlined building, much larger than the courthouse of his reality. It stood over-top the historic building like a spectral shadow. He tilted his head, attempting to find the pinnacle, but its towering peak disappeared into the dawn sky. The building was enormous, like those in larger cities. It was a phantom skyscraper attempting to exist in an already occupied space. Its edges stood out against the stone structure of the courthouse, glistening blue like the threads of shimmering spider webs.

  He stood motionless, in awe of the sight. Much like the man he had followed, it gave no one else reason for pause. He looked around, but even the fedora in the distance did not break its casual stride. A moment later, the man disappeared into the miasmic building.

  “How could such a thing exist?”

  At the base of one luminescent thread appeared a woman dressed in an outlandish, white-belted kimono. She finished thumbing the wall before turning around. Daniel peered at the block wall, searching for what she had been holding, but nothing was there. He could have sworn something had moved under her hand, but it was gone. Unlike the man in the fedora and the spectral building, her presence did not go unnoticed. She stood out in her tattered, oriental gown. The shredded kimono swirled about her with every intention of hiding her graceful curves, but failed utterly.

  Her auburn hair shone in the sun’s morning rays, framing a pale face and wild eyes. Over the years, Daniel had come to know the look of fear in others. Judging by her face and the way people avoided her, she was in full flight. His brain went into overdrive as he remembered that people were looking for him. He had made a huge display and left disgruntled pedestrians in his wake. They would have no problem identifying him now.

  “Dammit!” he spat. He had to do something … He had to move. And right now, this woman needed his help.

  Entering the road, Daniel allowed morality to guide his search for redemption.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 1: Keeping Promises

  Two days earlier, Jedd Altran slid an ID badge over the petroleum tank at a local gas station. The words, “Thank you for your patronage, Bradley Thomas,” scrolled by on the monitor, and he selected premium fuel for his new Kamota Speedster. It was not like he was paying for the gas. Besides, insurance would cover the cost.

  His friend Koiyo had put together the ID badge, and so far, it had proven invaluable. The new technology accessed the records of previous customers and then randomly selected a new identity and account to charge. He would have to thank the tech-savvy guru the next time he saw him. For years they had been an insepar
able team, but recent circumstances had made his visits dangerous. Today’s would be the last. He could not bear for something to happen to his old college friend.

  After the bike was fueled, Jedd slid his helmet’s reflective face shield down and rode into traffic. He had become an expert at hiding from his pursuers and found a casual, inconspicuous attitude to be essential when in the midst of the city’s denizens.

  Under a desert sky, Jedd parked his bike in one of many vacant spots at the shabby hotel. He passed the outdoor pool and hot tub. The children splashed and played, but avoided the drained hot tub. A glance told him why. A layer of sludge sat in the bottom, littered with dead rats. Jedd walked up the stairs to the room he had occupied for the last week. The tan stucco peeled and cracked as he passed, as it had been doing for years. He attempted to maintain a casual stride, but it was difficult to stifle his anticipation at Koiyo’s new program.

  Stepping into the room, he shut the door and seated himself in front of his laptop. Jedd typed in his password and the computer loaded his programs. Then, Jedd pulled out the new portable hard-drive and plugged it in to the computer. After a few key strokes, it whirled to life. As the computer processed the hardware, Altran took the few minutes necessary to pick up the remnants of his stay. What he was about to attempt could require a quick escape.

  Throwing the last sock into his bag, Jedd reseated himself in the uncomfortable desk chair. The computer’s completion bar finished its march to the edge of the window, and its flashing cursor prompted Jedd for his next command. He hoped this would finally allow him to keep his decade-old promise.

  Before cuing the new software, he brought up a program of his own creation, then ran his IP redirection protocols, bypassing and looping through various locations worldwide. With his security measures in-tact, Altran started the new equipment. Pages flew onto the screen and disappeared as his hands fluttered over the small keyboard. Within a few minutes, the flurry of activity stopped, leaving a solitary window on the computer display. It said ‘Access Granted Phillip Darling’. The next few windows came up and he was gratified to see ‘PASTOR Department’ heading the top of each screen. The acronym stood for Phantom Assassin Shifting Technology & Organized Reconnaissance, but the nature of the government funded department was so secret that few knew of its existence.