Intervention | NaNoWriMo 2018

Chapter 1 - The Mansion

Lincoln exhaled a long breath, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. He rubbed the textured surface of the white business card between the fingers of his left hand. A .308 caliber round rolled between the fingers of his right hand, its copper surface smooth and cool to the touch. 

Mere feet from Lincoln's spot on an old, faded wooden park bench, the waves of the canal lapped at the shore. The smell of sea salt teased his nostrils while the breeze from ashore played with his brown hair. Beyond the island across the canal, the western sky glowed orange and red as the evening sun descended behind rows of palm trees and vacation homes. Lincoln couldn't help but smile at the display of colors and its natural beauty. I'll miss this view.

Lincoln's gaze drifted to the mansion across the coastal waterway. There. Gathering just a stone's throw away were all the other recipients of the same card he held in his hand. They all understood what the card meant, just as he did.

The card had no name, no address, or contact information. Only three words printed with black ink stared back at him. A New Beginning.

Faint music carried across the water along with occasional outbursts of laughter. Flames of tiki torches flickered around the perimeter of the well-manicured lawn that stretched from the building to the shore. Modeled after 18th-century castles of the British upper class, it was a monument to stone and glass, complete with towers at each of the four corners of the building. Rows of windows stretched across each of the three floors. Most of them were dark.

His smile faded as his eyes wandered east. Countless hues of blue darkened the sky as evening spread across the horizon. Ominous clouds stretched from north to south, illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. The approaching storm would soon conceal the dim stars and replace the gentle ocean breeze with bone-chilling gusts and hammering rain.

The storm would also temporarily hide the glowing object now visible against the eastern sky. Racing straight towards Earth, Lincoln knew the impact was certain. The devastation would be cataclysmic. Although the news media had proclaimed their predictions for years, none of them were close. It would be worse than any had predicted.

His gaze returned to the mansion as he stood and slid the business card into his front shirt pocket. Then, with as much force as he could muster, he threw the bullet straight towards the mansion, willing it to sail across the expanse between them to its intended target. It didn't. He knew it wouldn't. The bullet disappeared beneath the waves, creating circular ripples across the surface.

He left the bench behind and followed a paved trail back to the parking lot and his car. Except for a few couples dotting the shoreline trying to cherish the time they had left, the park was abandoned and quiet. Moments later, the engine of his late-model Land Rover roared to life. He left the mostly empty parking lot and followed a side road towards the main coastal highway. Dark and abandoned homes lined each side of the road, most of them still in the condition they had been when their inhabitants had departed. Others were boarded up by those hopeful there would be something to return to.

There wouldn't be.

Lincoln turned right onto the boulevard that stretched towards the island and climbed the bridge across the waterway. Above the treetops, the bridge's peak offered an unobstructed view of both the sunset to his right and the impending destruction to his left. It was glorious and distressing at the same time.

A few minutes later, the gate to the mansion came into view. Lincoln took a deep breath as the guard stepped out of his shack, his hand in the air. The guard leaned forward and peered into the car, his eyes darting back and forth until a smile flashed across his face.