You know sometimes I like to host an odd one, so here it is. Oh, but how cool it sounds!
Out of Due Season: The First Transit by Benjamin X. Wretlind released last week in the Sci-fi, Thriller (Techno) genre.
What if humanity had a second chance?
On a June afternoon, a body is discovered floating in a remote lake in northwestern Washington. When a recovery team attempts to retrieve it, they make a shocking discovery: 311 other bodies lie under the water, all members of a previously unknown religious cult. However, what appears to be a tragedy of immense proportions is only the beginning.
When a few relatives and friends of the victims discover inconsistencies in the stories, a small group bands together to learn the truth. As government agencies apply pressure for reasons unknown and civil unrest in the country makes communication and movement difficult, this tiny yet determined team unravels what may be the greatest event in recent—if not all—human history.
Something epic is about to happen in that remote lake, and as competing sides inch ever closer to the truth, the last pieces of the puzzle are revealed.
The First Transit is for those who follow the rules, while disaster awaits everyone else.
“Anything of interest?” Tyler asked, breaking the silence.
“A lot of nothing,” Virgil said, still peering through the window. “It looks like our campers weren’t keen on material possessions. Either that or they took everything with them.”
The two walked away from the building and over to another as a light rain began to fall. Inside, they found much of the same: a few table settings, beds made of nothing more than rags, and the remnants of a few meals. On a board holding up what may have been part of a door jamb, there was a strange carving, six perpendicular lines like three off-center Xs. Aside from that, there were few clues about the inhabitants of this camp, and that meant there was little they could report back. Every building they examined was different. The tents smelled the worst while the wooden shacks stood precipitously on their weak foundations. Whatever happened to the people, it was not catastrophic, but it was weird.
“Hello?” Tyler called out. Lapping water and the chirps of a few birds replied, but no one else. “Hello?”
They both stood ankle deep in mud for another minute, looking, listening. Finally, Virgil unclipped his radio. “Base, Recovery Two.”
“Recovery Two, Base. Report.”
“There’s nothing here. Seems to be about twenty buildings and a few tents, all run down.”
“Any sign of life?”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Benjamin ran with scissors when he was five. He now writes, paints, uses sharp woodworking tools and plays with glue. Sometimes he does these things at the same time. He is the author of Castles, Sketches from the Spanish Mustang and many other novels.
Benjamin lives with his wife Jesse in Colorado.
- a $25 Amazon or B/N GC