Eric T. Knight's Blog, page 39

Landsend Plateau excerpt

The bladed man���s face remained impassive. There was an odd black mark on his forehead. The silence dragged out while he stared at Meholah. Looking into the empty holes where his eyes had been hurt. At last he spoke. ���I am Achsiel. It is for Tu Sinar that we have come.���

Meholah struggled to understand the words. Finally, he said, ���I do not understand. You seek our god? Why?���

���It is the will of my god, the One God, the Father. Tu Sinar has much to answer for,��� replied the stranger. It was then that Meholah realized that the odd mark on his forehead was a fingerprint, burned into the skin. The others all carried the same mark.

���It is the mark of our faith,��� the bladed man said, raising a finger to touch the burn. ���The mark of our choice. The same choice you will have. It is the only real choice you will ever make.��� His voice sounded subtly different suddenly, with an echo to it that it had not had before. Meholah felt death���s coils slip tighter around him and he thought to turn and send the learners away, back to the shelter, to warn them. But he could not seem to move and now the stranger was pressing closer. Heat radiated from him, a fire strong enough that it would blister Meholah���s skin if he could not find the strength to move, but still he was held thus, motionless, while his death came closer.

���Now you will hear the past you have forgotten,��� the bladed man commanded, in a voice that boomed and echoed off the stones. And he was no longer a man, but a vessel for a thing of vast age and hatred. Meholah fell to his knees and heard three of his pupils do the same. He heard harsh breathing, one man���s inner struggle with himself and knew that Rehobim, of all of them, still stood. ���Now you will remember your crimes.���

Then he spoke of a time beyond the memory of Meholah���s people. He spoke of an ancient god betrayed by his brethren, betrayed, worst of all, by his own children. Then millennia of black suffering, while the betrayers ran free under the sun. He spoke of an opportunity finally come, a time when wrongs would at last be righted, and old evils avenged.

At last he asked a question. Just one question, with only one correct answer, only one answer that could lead to life. Meholah wanted to give it to him. From the depths of his fear he desired it, but the Oath was too strong in him. He could not turn away from it now, even to save his life.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head, not wanting the sky to see his tears.

Then the world exploded in fire and searing pain.

Excerpt from��Landsend Plateau

Watching the End of the World – 14

Tony leaned over to whisper to Nate. ���I don���t think we���re going to make it to Tanzania.���

���But the captain said ��� ���

���Be real. He just said that so we wouldn���t freak out. Just like he didn���t tell us about the virus to keep us from freaking out. I spent some time researching Madagascar before I left home, looking at maps and stuff. We can���t make it to Tanzania in a half hour. Why do you think we���re flying so low? He���s looking for somewhere to land.���

���But it���s nothing but trees down there.���

���Yeah. No shit.���

���Do you know where we are now?���

���As best I can tell, we should be over Mwinda.���

���Mwinda? But isn���t that the country where it���s basically anarchy?���

���Pretty much. They���ve had a civil war going on for about twenty years. The place is a serious mess. We should hope we have enough fuel to at least get over Tanzania before we have to put down.���

Tony sat back in his seat and Nate looked out the window. He could see the blue expanse of the ocean off to the right and the white strip of the beach.

���Maybe we could land on the beach,��� Nate said.

���That won���t work,��� Tony replied. ���Sand���s too soft. The wheels will dig in and the plane will flip.���

���The ocean?���

���That���s probably why we���re staying along the coast. If he doesn���t find anywhere to land he can always put down in the ocean.���

Jordynn had been listening in. ���I can���t swim,��� she said.

���You don���t have to,��� Santiago told her. ���They have life jackets on airplanes.���

���I wish I never would have gotten this role,��� Jordynn said, wrapping her arms around herself.

���Would you rather be back in LA?��� Santiago replied. ���Where people are panicking, probably rioting like idiots always do when things go wrong. If we survive the crash, this is the best place to be. There���s no way the virus will spread out here to the middle of nowhere. All we have to do is wait it out. They���re probably overreacting anyway, like they did after 9/11. It���s probably anthrax or something. You will see. We���ll spend a couple weeks in some nameless town and then they���ll open up the airports and everything will go back to normal.���

Nate listened to Santiago. The man sounded so calm and rational. He wanted to believe him. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, knowing he was breathing too fast. He looked over and saw Omisha. The Indian woman was rigid in her seat, her grip on the armrests so fierce her knuckles were white. A tear was running down her cheek.

���Hey,��� he said. She turned toward him. ���It���s going to be all right. You���ll see.��� He didn���t really believe his own words, but the sight of her made him want to do something to help her. ���The pilot���s ex-military.��� He didn���t really know that for sure, but he���d read somewhere that most commercial pilots got their start in the military. ���They practice this kind of thing. He���ll get us down okay.���

She nodded stiffly and tried to sit back a little in her seat. It might have been his imagination, but he thought maybe she���d relaxed just a little.

The minutes ticked by and no airport or even town appeared. Nate wanted to scream. It wasn���t possible. The world was full of people. How could this part of it be so empty?

All at once the engines cut out, the familiar, reassuring background roar suddenly gone.

Excerpt from��Watching the End of the World

Beware of The Pumpkin Cartel!

Have you ever noticed how every year about early October tons of pumpkin-flavored crap suddenly sprouts up everywhere? Pumpkin coffee, pumpkin bread, pumpkin beer, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin gasoline – the list goes on and on. And that stuff hangs around and hangs around – like that nasty carbuncle on your lip you just can���t get rid of – until after Christmas. (Tip: do not click on that carbuncle link if you���re eating. Unless your computer/tablet/phone/whatever is barf-proof.)

Do you actually like��any of that stuff? Do you know anyone��who actually does?

The answer to both of those – unless you���re a freak whose friends are all freaks – is no. No freaking way. No one does.

So why is there so much of it?

Two words. Pumpkin cartel.

(random pumpkin picture, in case you forgot what I was going on about)

Yeah, and now you���re thinking, That���s silly. There���s no such thing as a pumpkin cartel. What kind of idiot do these guys take me for?

Well, first of all, we don���t take idiots. We have quite enough of them already, thank you. Second of all, the fact that you don���t know anything about the pumpkin cartel (PC) is proof of how powerful and dastardly they really are.

You see, they���re making a lot, I mean, a lot, of money, cheddar, moola off pumpkins. And they won���t tolerate any threats to that sweet, sweet cash. So if they get wind of anyone getting wise to them, well, they just up and take ���em out, Ichabod-Crane style (more on this in a moment).

First, we will disprove the lies the PC has spread about ���pumpkins being a Halloween tradition.��� We will do this by first examining the origin of Halloween.

The Halloween we celebrate today is based mostly on the old gaelic holiday Samhain. It was believed that on this day spirits could more easily come into the realm of the living. To make sure the people and their livestock would survive the winter, the spirits had to be appeased using food, drink, or crops.

That���s it. Nothing to do with pumpkins. What would spirits want with a pumpkin anyway? If you were dead, would you want a pumpkin at your party? No. You wouldn���t.

The reason pumpkins are part of Halloween is John Jacob Astor, one of America���s first truly rich people. In 1815 Astor inherited a massive pumpkin farm from his uncle. That farm annually produced approximately half a million pumpkins, or about one for each sixteen Americans at that time. Why his uncle grew so many pumpkins no one knows. He was doubtlessly deranged.

(picture of JJ himself. back when a steak dinner and forty acres cost one cent he was worth millions of pumpkins)

So here���s John Jacob, got a half million pumpkins on his hands and more on the way and no idea what to do with them. A less-determined man would have just built a bunch of catapults and chucked (chunked?) those things right in the ocean, but JJ wasn���t one to give up. He was determined to find some way to get people to buy all those darned pumpkins.

It wasn���t an easy task. Just like today, no one liked the taste of pumpkins. He needed to find another use for them besides food. He tried turning them into furniture but that was no good. Too sticky. He tried turning them into shoes but they were too clunky.

Then, one day JJ was sitting at his desk with his whittling knife, trimming his fingernails (as he liked to do), a pumpkin in front of him, pondering his situation. Day turned to night and he still had no good ideas. In a sudden fit of rage, he went berserk on the pumpkin with his whittling knife, stabbing and gouging it again and again. When his fit of rage was spent, he noticed something that would forever change our nation for the worse.

There was a crude face carved into the pumpkin. A scary face.

A light bulb went on over his head. Scratch that. Too early for light bulbs. A torch went on over his head.

Scary face. Halloween. A marriage made in hell.

Halloween wasn���t much of a holiday back then, since most people couldn���t afford sugar and face it, what���s the point of Halloween without candy? But that meant he could easily break into the racket, push out the few chumps running it, and take it over for his pumpkins. Within a few short years you literally couldn���t call yourself a Halloweener (Halloweiner?) without having a couple carved pumpkins on your front porch. (Literally. He trademarked Halloween and if you said the word and weren���t within arm���s reach of a pumpkin, a team of lawyers would swoop down on you out of nowhere and just litigate your ass from here to Kingdom Come.

Fortunately, by 1820 at least one patriotic American realized what was happening and tried to warn the nation.

You���ve heard of Ichabod Crane, haven���t you? In the supposedly fictional story called ���The Headless Horseman,��� by Washington Irving, the hero is chased by a headless horseman. Ichabod flees across a river and thinks he���s safe, but the headless horseman throws his head at Ichabod and knocks him off his horse. In the morning, Ichabod has disappeared and all that is ever found of him is his hat lying by a shattered pumpkin!

Clearly, Irving knew about Astor���s evil plans even then, but was smart enough to know that if he came out publicly to warn people about them, something bad would happen to him.

That���s why he hid the warning in a harmless story!

Astor died a few years later under mysterious circumstances (most likely a pumpkin coup staged by his oldest son) and out of the ensuing power struggle the dreaded Pumpkin Cartel (PC) was born.

Not much interesting happened in the pumpkin world for the next 100 years or so. The PC consolidated its control of Halloween but didn���t do much expanding until it���s new leader took over in the 1920s. The new guy was a chap named Al Capone. Al got his start bootlegging during Prohibition and, while the money was sweet, he figured out early on that the real cash was to be made in pumpkins, not booze.

(warning: don’t try this at home! or anywhere, for that matter. pumpkins and beer are highly explosive!)

What he needed was to take over another holiday.

Before Capone came along, it was traditional to have a few nice zucchinis on your Thanksgiving table, or maybe some especially large turnips (turnips were very big in early 20th century America, before people realized how awful they tasted). Under Capone���s ruthless leadership, the PC made short work of the zucchini and turnip people who, let���s face it, were extremely poorly organized and also malnourished, especially the turnip people, who had to sit down and breathe hard every few steps and tended to burn easily in the sun.

With the zucchini and turnip people out of the way, things seemed like smooth sailing for Capone and his gang. Nothing to do but sit back and rake in the profits.

There was just one little problem: Bugs Moran and the Potato Syndicate. Bugs was an Irish mobster and he���d gotten the idea that the potato should be the official tuber of Thanksgiving.

All-out war ensued, culminating in the Valentine���s Day Massacre, where Bugs and his top lackeys were wiped out. When the dust settled, pumpkins ruled Thanksgiving.

Over the next fifty years the PC grew into a secret society on par with the Illuminati, complete with the crazy wigs and silly rituals involving members wearing live chickens on their heads while dancing the Charleston. But, as powerful and wealthy as they were, they were clearly a decaying, moribund society destined for the toilet bowl of history.

Until the 1980s when a little-known, mild-mannered fellow known as Bill Gates took the reins of power in a violent revolution against then-leader Kim Yong Il (also known for running North Korea for some time; we told you this was a vast secret organization) that ended with Kim saying ���uncle��� (in Korean, of course) and taking his henchmen and going home.

(behold, my newest invention: invisible pumpkins!)

Gates, you see, had a wider vision for the future. No longer happy with just forcing people to buy a couple pumpkins and choke down a pumpkin pie or two (something no one, absolutely no one, would eat until whipped cream was invented), he saw a future where pumpkins dominated all the holidays. Not only would they be used as decorations, but people would eat them.

Everyone, even his own evil and quite nerdish henchmen, thought Gates was crazy. But he had recently come up with an idea for a product that no one knew they wanted or needed, called a computer. He knew that he could get these things into the homes and businesses of millions of people and through them he could introduce viruses directly into human brains. These viruses would have only one function: to suppress people���s natural gag reflex to eating pumpkin-flavored things. (Notice how the computers we use are called PCs? As in Pumpkin Cartel? Coincidence?)

And that is why pumpkin-flavored crap inundates our society in the last quarter of every year. Most people, addicted to their computers and tablets and smartphones, aren���t even aware of it. They just mindlessly accept it. Gates��� plan has worked even better than he expected, to the point that he had to quit his computer company a few years ago so he could dedicate himself full time to his true passion.

It���s time to fight back. What should we do? you ask. Honestly, we have no idea. We���re just conspiracy theorists. We don���t have actual, useful ideas. We just know you need to do something.

Otherwise, don���t be surprised to see Santa wearing an orange suit one of these days.

(Borrowed from The Mad Mustache Conspiracy, written my me and my sons, Daniel and Dylan.)

Dancing Panda Bears?

Day after day I post excerpts from my new book (which I am understandably excited about, on account of how positive early feedback is) and I keep thinking: Is this too repetitive? Is there something else rattling around in my skull that I could share instead?

What about videos of dancing panda bears? Is that what people want?

Unfortunately, I have no videos of dancing anything. I could probably find them on the Interwebs, but then so could you. (Since you’re reading this, I assume you have access to the dang thing.)

I don’t have��anything interesting in the way of multimedia to offer the Interwebs. No videos of myself doing anything entertaining. (Trust me, I’m as dull as they come and only slightly more photogenic than your common house plants.) I don’t play music except on my stereo and that doesn’t seem all that impressive. I can’t draw, except for stick figures that all look the same. I don’t, paint, sculpt or pottery-make. I’m good at making rice, but that doesn’t seem all that cool even to me.

In fact, it’s becoming quite clear to me that I have no discernible talents except for writing and even that is debatable. Perhaps I should have taken up the xylophone at a young age. By now I expect I would be quite good at it.

I’ve been at this writing thing for better than a quarter century now (don’t ask which quarter) and, for better or worse, I’m stuck with it. Which means you’re stuck with it.

Well, that’s all for now. I apologize for wasting your valuable time with my rambling and for the fact that the title might have mislead you into thinking dancing pandas could be found here.

Watching the End of the World – 13

���Mozambique���s not going to allow us to land either,��� Adam said.

���You don���t know that,��� she replied.

���I do know it and so do you if you would stop deluding yourself.���

���I���m not deluding myself, I���m being professional. Which is what you should be doing.���

���Stop it!��� Adam snapped, his voice rising. ���Just give up the calm professional bullshit. We���re all fucked and you know it.���

���You don���t know that. Not for sure. Even if it���s true, those people need us to be calm. They need us to tell them they���re going to live through this.���

���I���m not going to lie to them!���

���Keep your voice down. They���ll hear.���

���So what? Why should I care if they hear or not?��� He was practically yelling.

���Get a hold of yourself and do your job.���

���I don���t give a shit about the job. In case you didn���t hear, the world is coming to an end. I���m pretty sure that means this job is coming to an end as well.���

���You���re overreacting. The world is not coming to an end.���

���Didn���t you listen to the reports? The virus is spreading out of control.���

���Maybe it is, maybe it isn���t. But it���s like the captain said: our first priority is to get this plane safely on the ground. Having hysterical passengers won���t help that.���

���Where do you think we���re going to land? In a tree?���

���We���ll find somewhere.���

���We���ve got less than a half hour of fuel left. There���s nowhere else to go.���

At that moment Kelly looked over, saw Nate watching, and bit back on what she���d been about to say.

He pushed the door open the rest of the way. ���Is it true? Only a half hour of fuel?��� he asked.

���Maybe a little more,��� she admitted. ���But I���m confident the captain will put us down safely.��� She shot a glance at Adam. ���Even if we have to land in a tree.��� She moved toward Nate and began shooing him out of the galley. ���Please return to your seat, Mr. Devereaux. Buckle yourself in and remain calm.���

Nate allowed her to usher him back to his seat. It flashed into his mind that this couldn���t be happening. It couldn���t be real. Death was something that happened to other people, not him. Was he really going to die here, now? It didn���t seem possible. All his struggling, all his striving, all his planning. The one thing he had never planned for, never quite believed was possible, was that he would just simply die. Everything he���d dreamed of, gone in an instant.

Excerpt from��Watching the End of the World

Watching the End of the World – 12

���This is your captain speaking. Can I have your attention, please?���

An unmistakable tension in the man���s tone cut through Nate���s sleepiness and he sat up, suddenly alert. Others in the cabin did the same. Tony was fast asleep and Nate leaned over and shook him awake. ���I think you want to hear this,��� he said.

Tony sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking around as if he���d forgotten where he was. The plane had now turned completely around. ���What is it? What���s going on?

���We will not be landing in Mahajanga,��� the pilot said. ���The airport there is closed. We are rerouting back to the mainland.��� The speaker cut off.

���What���s wrong?��� Tamara cried. ���Why is the airport closed?���

���The Republic of Madagascar has closed its airports,��� Kelly said. Her face was pale. She was still holding a towel from the galley and she twisted it in her hands as she spoke. ���We���re going to have to try and land in Mozambique.���

���Why?��� Nate demanded.

Kelly exchanged a look with Adam then looked back at the passengers. ���It���s the���the terrorist attack,��� she said. ���It���s worse than we thought.���

���But the captain said ��� ���

���You said you���d tell us if there was anything else we needed to know.���

���I know. But until a few minutes ago Madagascar was still allowing planes to land at its airports. The captain felt there was no need to disturb ��� ���

���That���s bullshit!��� Tamara exploded. ���He should have told us.���

���Listen. Everyone just calm down,��� Kelly said. ���It���s going to be all right.���

���You keep saying that,��� Tony said. ���But that doesn���t make it so.���

���Just tell us what happened,��� Jenna said.

���Get the captain out here,��� Santiago demanded. ���I want to hear this from him.���

���Please, sir, the captain is busy flying the plane.��� She took a deep breath and made a visible effort to control herself. Adam came out of the galley then, his face ashen.

���The guy they caught in Chicago wasn���t the only one,��� Adam said. ���There were dozens of them in major airports all over the world. They released some kind of biological agent, infecting travelers in the airports. Those travelers then spread out all over the world. The first wave of illnesses was reported about eight hours ago, the first deaths about four hours ago. Most nations have closed their airports to stop the spread of the disease.��� He looked like he was going to be sick. ���It���s too late. It���s already spread too far.���

���Adam!��� Kelly said sharply. ���You don���t know that. You���re scaring them.���

���So what? I���m scared. I don���t give a shit if they���re scared.���

���Shut up! You���re making it worse.���

���People are dying by the thousands and I���m making it worse? Really?���

The cabin erupted in a furor. Everyone started talking at once. Kelly tried to shout over them, to get them calm, but everyone ignored her. Finally she went to the phone, picked it up and talked into it. A moment later the door of the cockpit opened and the captain emerged.

���Everyone shut up!��� he yelled.

They fell silent and looked at him.

���Our first priority is getting this plane safely on the ground. In order to do that, I need to be in the cockpit helping fly this plane, not back here babysitting you. Is that clear?���

Excerpt from��Watching the End of the World

Watching the End of the World – 11

���I think I haven���t met very many sincere people in my life,��� Nate said. ���Especially in LA, it seems like everyone is trying to sell a better mask. Nobody believes anything beyond the level to which they can convince you to believe it.���

���That���s a pretty deep statement from someone who has dedicated himself to pretending to be someone else.���

Nate thought about that for a moment. At first he felt kind of insulted by Tony���s statement, but then it occurred to him in a different way. ���You know what? I don���t know if I���ve ever been sincere a single minute in my entire life. I mean, when I���m being me, not playing a role. Not a single minute.���

���That sounds kind of harsh.���

���I think the closest I get to being truly sincere is when I���m playing a role. Does that make any sense?���

���Not really.���

���When I get into a role, I get into the role. I don���t just play someone else, I sincerely become someone else. When I���m really working it, when I���ve really let go of myself and gotten into a role, I feel more ��� I don���t know ��� more real than I do at any other time. There are those magical moments when I feel as if I really am that person I am portraying, not Nate Devereaux. Like Nate Devereaux is the role I���m playing.���

���Geez,��� Tony said. ���That���s pretty intense.���

���Yeah,��� Nate said, surprised at himself. ���I can���t believe I just told you that. I don���t think I���ve ever really even thought of it that way before.���

���You think the cameras picked it up?���

Nate looked around. ���God, I hope not.���

Tony���s next question surprised Nate. ���So how are you going to play this role? I mean, how do you play a character when the character you���re playing is yourself?���

Excerpt from��Watching the End of the World

Watching the End of the World – 10

���This is weird,��� Nate said to Tony. ���Why are we stopping here?���

Tony had just awakened from a nap and he looked around groggily. ���Where are we?���

���Somewhere in the Bahamas.��� Kelly came by and Nate waved her over. ���Can we get off and stretch our legs?���

���Let me check with the pilot.��� She returned a minute later and announced to the passengers that they could get off the jet if they wanted to, but that they shouldn���t go anywhere as they would be taking off again in just a few minutes. While she was speaking Adam opened the door and hit the button to lower the stairs.

A few of the contestants got off the jet. ���I don���t think she had to warn us not to go anywhere,��� Tony said, looking around. ���There���s nowhere to go.��� It was true. The air field was surrounded by palm trees. There was a dirt road leading to it and a single, rusted tin shack with some fuel tanks sitting by it. There weren���t any other planes. The sun was setting.

Nate checked his phone. No signal, but that wasn���t too surprising.

���What are we doing here?��� Tamara asked. She���d been drinking pretty steadily with Caleb and she was weaving visibly. She took a cigarette out of her purse and lit it. ���We���re not there already, are we?���

���Really?��� Jordynn said sarcastically. ���You think we can just fly from California to Africa in seven hours?���

Tamara gave her a dirty look. ���Hey, how am I supposed to know how far it is? I���ve never even been out of the country.���

���You could try looking at a map. Madagascar is on the other side of the world from California.���

Tamara waved her off. Her fingernails were very long and very red. ���Who cares where Madagascar is?���

���You���re going to be spending two months there,��� Jenna put in. ���Didn���t you even Google the place?���

���I���ve been busy,��� Tamara said. ���It���s boring out here. I���m getting back on the plane.��� When she turned to head back to the plane she stumbled on her spike heels and fell against Santiago. He caught her gracefully and she hung onto him for a few seconds longer than she needed to.

���Thank you,��� she said, a little breathlessly it seemed to Nate.

���It is always my pleasure,��� he said graciously. After he let her go she stayed standing beside him. Nate thought he caught the hint of a frown on Jordynn���s face but it was quickly gone.

Jenna rolled her eyes and walked over to Maha, who had gone to the edge of the air field and was looking into the trees.

���Maybe we landed here because of the terrorist attack,��� Nate suggested.

���You are getting too worked up about the terrorist thing,��� Santiago said. ���It is nothing. Look around. We���re on an island. Primitive facilities. They���re just getting us in the mind set for the show. Don���t read too much into it.���

���So you think they���re doing this on purpose?��� Caleb asked.

���It���s a possibility. Reality TV is, after all, about putting people in abnormal situations and watching to see how they will react.���

���Or maybe the terrorist attack wasn���t as contained as they thought. Maybe the Miami airport was closed off and we had to come here instead.��� They all turned to look at Jordynn who quickly grew nervous at having them all stare at her. ���I���m not saying it is,��� she said defensively, ���just that it could be.���

���But if that was true then they would have sent us back to LA, wouldn���t they?��� Tamara asked, her eyes growing very big. ���I heard that���s what they did on 9/11. They made all the planes turn around and go back to where they took off from.���

���There���s your proof this has nothing to do with the attempted terrorist attack,��� Santiago said. ���They didn���t make us turn around and return to LA.���

���Or������ Nate said. He hesitated and they all looked at him. ���Or the producers of this show really want to start filming tomorrow, no matter what happens.���

���That���s loco,��� Santiago said. ���They wouldn���t ignore Homeland Security. That���s illegal.���

���If there���s enough money on the line they might,��� Tony said. ���It depends on their investors. It depends on whatever contracts they have with whatever station is going to carry the show. We don���t know what delays they���ve already experienced. If the deadline is tight enough, the sums of money large enough, a corporation might be tempted to bend the rules.���

They all thought about this for a minute. Nate spoke next. ���People shoot each other over a pair of shoes. They���ll do a lot for millions of dollars.��� He gestured at all of them. ���Look at us here, now. Look at what we���re willing to do for the chance to win a million dollars.���

���Don���t forget the fame, mate,��� Caleb said with mock seriousness. ���And the chicks.��� Tamara let out a cry of false dismay and slapped him on the arm. Caleb gave her a big grin.

���I think you are becoming excited over nothing,��� Santiago said. ���We���re just refueling, that���s all. Nothing���s happened. Everything���s going to be fine.���

excerpt from��Watching the End of the World

See what (made-up) people are saying about Watching the End of the World!

“This book is the greatest thing since sliced bread! Literally. I will now never eat sliced bread again.” – Tom Fool

“Watching the End of the World saved my cat’s life! Really, Fluffy was lying on the couch bored nearly to death and I read it to her and now she’s all better!” – Totally Not-Crazy Cat Lady

“If my plane crashed in the Andes and I was the only survivor I’d want to have��Watching the End of the World with me. I could use it to fight off bears.” – Grizzly Steve

“Because of this book I now think I will survive the winter. The pages burn really well in my fireplace.” – Steven “Brrr” Wildman

“And it came to pass that on the nine-millionth day I did read��Watching the End of the World��and yea, it was good.” – God (Author’s note: I’m especially proud of this one. God’s very busy and doesn’t have much time to read.)

“If the evil queen��had a copy of this book, maybe she wouldn’t have been so emotionally unavailable and I wouldn’t be out here living in the woods with these dwarfs.” – Snow White

“I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that��Watching the End of the World��probably the single most important factor in bringing about the successful conclusion of World War II.” – General MacArthur

“I kills cockroaches with mine ever’ single night.” – Cletus the Slack-jawed Yokel

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” – said by Rhett Butler to Scarlett O’Hara when she tried to get him to go out to dinner while he was finishing��Watching the End of the World.

“I expect this Christmas my sleigh will be full of nothing but copies of��Watching the End of the World.” – Santa Claus

Watching the End of the World – 9

���The beautiful senorita beside me is Jordynn,��� he said, his voice very silky and smooth, holding out his hand to the African American woman on his left. He stared at her, his hand held out to her, until she took his hand, then he looked back at the rest of them. ���She is from Miami, where they have the most beautiful women in the world.��� She brought her other hand to her face. ���She grew up wanting to be a princess and that is what she became.��� Her hand tightened on his and her mouth opened slightly. Her eyes were glowing. ���She has no hobbies because princesses do not need them. Her secret is that one day all men will fall at her feet and worship her beauty.��� Now she was blushing. Nate felt like gagging but he had to admit he was impressed with the man���s delivery. He was definitely slick.

���This silver-tongued fool is Santiago,��� Jordynn said, pulling her hand away from his with reluctance. She was wearing a red tube top and she twitched it up slightly. One hand went to her hair. There were streaks of red in it and it fell down past her shoulders. She really was a very striking woman, Nate thought.

���He was born in Chihuahua, Mexico, to a virgin on Christmas Eve.��� There were several groans at this. ���When he was born the doctor held him up and said, ���This man will strike fear in the hearts of men and lust in the hearts of women everywhere.������ She looked at Santiago. ���God���s gift, aren���t you?���

He winked and inclined his head. ���It is my curse,��� he said softly.

���Chihuahua was too small for him so when he was twelve he left his family and immigrated to the United States. The whole city went into mourning when he left.��� She looked up from the clipboard. ���Sickening, isn���t it?��� There was a chorus of agreement and she continued, ���His hobby is helping little old ladies across the street. He says he has no secrets, that his life is an open book, but that when he was a boy an old bruja, a witch, told him a giant snake would devour him when the world ended.���

These people were better than he thought, Nate realized. They���d anticipated questions like this and they���d put some time into it. They knew this was all bullshit and they embraced it. Maybe this wasn���t so different from real acting after all. Both of them were based on the audience willingly suspending disbelief and temporarily accepting whatever premise the actor put forth. He looked around him, wondering what, if anything, he heard today would be the truth.

Then it was Jenna���s turn. ���This is Maha. His name means wild cow in Thai. His mother is Thai and his father is an American. They met in Bangkok. He was born in Santa Barbara, California, but his parents split up when he was ten and he spent the rest of his childhood in Bangkok. He came to the US to go to college at Ohio State and when he was done he moved to LA. He���s a Buddhist, an actual Zen Buddhist. His hobby is meditating.��� Caleb faked an exaggerated yawn and Jenna gave him a cold look. ���His secret is that he has a lot of bad karma from his last life, when he was a gangster in Thailand.���

No way, Nate thought. That stuff had to be made up. But then he looked closer at Maha and wondered. It sure looked as though Maha believed it.

Maha spoke next. His voice was very even, very calm. He did not rush his words, but seemed to take his time choosing each one. ���Jenna���s grandmother emigrated from Russia. No, that is not the right word. She escaped from Russia in the 1960s. Her husband refused to come with her, so she took her baby daughter and did it alone. Somehow she made it into Finland and then to the US. She is still alive. Jenna says she is too tough to die. Jenna grew up in Chicago and her mother and grandmother still live there. Her hobby is exercise and taking care of herself. Her secret is that she is going to win this contest.���

There was a lot of hooting at his last words, but Nate didn���t join in. Jenna struck him as very capable, the kind of person who, once she put her mind to something, didn���t give up until she���d done it.

excerpt from��Watching the End of the World