Storm Tamer, The Read online

  Storm Tamer, The

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The Storm Tamer

  By

  M. Garnet

  ( c ) copyright by M. Garnet, April 2017

  (c ) cover art by Jenny Dixon, April 2017

  ISBN 978-1-60394-

  Smashwords Edition

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Dedication:

  To my beautiful daughter Suda who

  supports me and puts up with me and often

  gives me ideas for my stories like this one.

  Chapter One

  Margo pulled her hood down over her face as she watched the tall man raise his hands up to send out what he called his message to the dark clouds above.

  Below them in a valley was a great battle between two forces of men. They were dressed in metal, and there were many horses, but there were more men who did not have mounts. These foot soldiers on both sides were engaged in preparing for the deadly fight facing them. Most of them were trying to make themselves right with whatever deity they believed, as this would be a battle with a lot of lives lost on both sides.

  The clouds seemed to dance at his hands, and the rain began to fall; as she watched, it fell more on one side of fighters than it did on the other. It was the turning point in this conflict. The one side was getting mired down in deep water and mud and couldn't bring its heavy equipment forward.

  He pushed his wet hair away from his face and frowned. He nodded as he turned. "We are done here." These were his only words as he grabbed Margo's hand and they were gone, back to his dark home.

  She had no idea who the people in the battle were and could only wonder why he had helped one side with the advantage of dryer ground. He never answered any of her questions, just sent her back to her home in the mountains of New Hope.

  Margo had a lot of doubts as to whether this was her home. She knew from being with the Storm Tamer that there were different dimensions and that he crossed over from one to another. She had a feeling that he was going to the history of the real Earth and influencing the battles to make an outcome that he felt was important. Why?

  There never was any transition, no feeling of movement; there was just the fact of they were in one place in the rain and the next instant they were in his dark entrance dripping water on the floor of smooth black marble.

  He stalked away, as usual, leaving her alone and she thought about the first time she had seen him.

  * * * *

  Having lived in Florida most of her life, Margo was used to the TV talking heads warning of a possible hurricane a couple of times a year. The problem she and her neighbors gossiped about was that the TV news people brought up the squiggles on the hurricanes too much.

  There was the guy who announced that there was a disturbance off the coast of Africa. There were the reports of airplanes flying into storms. Then there were the names, oh the wonderful A, B and on up the alphabet, names and they had to be careful not to insult anyone.

  Florida was hit by a strong hurricane every few years and fate seemed to make sure the storms hit a different area each time. The Tampa Bay area was warned all the time and when it did get hit it only had a lot of high water that went away immediately. The Tampa Bay area was lucky, and most people living around this area prepared for hurricanes in a different manner than the rest of Florida.

  Living in the home she inherited from her dead parents, Margo knew she was lucky. The cement and stucco home was built high above the water line, and she often cursed the extra steps up in the garage that led to the higher home.

  The roof was rated high for storms with several angles and all tied down with extra metal hangers. That had saved her a lot on her home insurance payments.

  This year the news had been full of unusual storms and earthquakes all around the world. It seemed each evening or morning, when she watched the news, there was another place showing hundreds and hundreds of injured and dead due to some quake or flood.

  South America seemed to be in turmoil with every mountainous area having landslides and unusual rainstorms. Middle Europe was being torn apart with earthquakes and large portions of countries dropping out of contact.

  Several giant tsunami waves washed over China and Japan and the outer islands, destroying entire communities and landmasses. Now the TV reporters were beginning to report about the loss of contact from different countries.

  An unusual drop in temperature from the northern regions had brought deep freezing weather all the way down through Canada to the northern states. Then came the news that affected Margo's Florida.

  Two cat five hurricanes, one coming up through the edge of South America that would put it into the Gulf and one moving at a fast rate straight across toward Miami.

  The unusual freeze and shortage of fuel oil had started a heavy movement south that was going to impede the evacuation routes from Florida.

  In the Tampa Bay area, Margo did the normal and filled her car with gas, bought all kinds of non-perishable foods and lots of bottled water. She also had a backup. She had a swimming pool. That water could be used to flush her toilet and water her dog. She also offered this water to her neighbors if the power was off for a long time.

  As usual, the skies turned dark, and the rain came down in bands. Margo had a stack of batteries for her radio and the charger for her phone and kindle. She could also recharge from her car if she ran it with the garage door open.

  Margo thought she could just wait out the storm and listen to that unusual National Broadcasting Station that told everyone to evacuate, but it didn't have any idea where a safe place might be available.

  When a window blew into the front room, she decided to nail some boards across the one window in her bathroom, leaving a few inches at the bottom that she could open to get fresh air.

  She moved dry food, most of her goods and a couple of packs of water and brought her dog along with a couple a dooty bags and a towel for his needs. She heard the wind so loud it sounded like the airplanes going into Tampa International Airport.

  There was an unusual crash, and she peeked through the small opening at the bottom of the window. One of the tall old oaks next door had been torn out by the roots and lay across her next door neighbor's home.

  That elderly couple had chosen to leave so that they would come back to a lot of damage, but thank goodness they were away. On the other hand, there were serious problems on the roads.

  I4 was shut down due to a multi-car crash and bridges had been washed out on
the two main exits across the top of Tampa Bay. The only way off the peninsula was to go north. But it seemed that the hurricane in the Gulf was pounding away at that portion of Florida, and if the radio was correct, there was water over large portions of the lowlands.

  There were also warnings that boats would not survive in the winds and rains. Please under no circumstances do not try to take a boat out in this weather. This was repeated over and over.

  Suddenly, as she looked out through the dark rain in a lightning bolt, she saw a dark figure out near the corner of her street. She had to wonder if one of her neighbors who elected to stay at home was seeking help.

  She dumped a bucket of water in the plugged up bathtub and put down some feed to take care of her pet King Charles spaniel who was shaking from the storm. Bravery was not in his genes.

  "I won't be gone long, but if you pee again, do it on the dirty towel."

  She closed the bathroom door but left it open an inch, thinking that if something unusual happened he could claw it open to escape. She went to the utility room and put on long boots and a weatherproof jacket.

  She pulled up the hood and tied it around her face to protect her long brown hair. She wasn't a great beauty, but with her hazel eyes and her long legs, she always got enough whistles to get dates.

  Going down the steps into the garage she was pleased to find the floor was dry. She went over to the side door and put her shoulder against it to push it open against the rain and wind. The thought went through her mind that she was crazy to go out in this storm even to help a neighbor.

  Normally the sidewalk beside the garage was sheltered by a high cross-hatched wood privacy barrier that hid the many garbage cans and other cans that she didn't throw away. It was all gone, no fence, no plants, and no cans. All the pretty bushes and figurines that had been in the neighbor's yard were also gone.

  Chapter Two

  Margo fought the wind until she got out to the sidewalk where her mailbox was also built out of solid cement bricks and stucco and withstood the heavy storm.

  Seeing the man in the long black coat with streaming long wet hair holding his arms up to the storm, she needed to get closer to try to recognize him. Finally, bending against the wet wind, she reached a point where there seemed to be a circle of calm and she caught her breath as she stood up to look around.

  No, the storm had not stopped; it was just a small area around her and this man with his arms up that the wind seemed to ignore. There were still droplets of water, but without the force of the gale, they just fell downward.

  Wiping her face to allow her better sight, she approached the man and realized she didn't know this person. She understood her mistake and was about to turn to go back to the safety of her home when he swung around to meet her gaze.

  He stepped in her direction, and she knew there was something terribly wrong here. As he moved, the circle of calm moved with him. There was something wrong with his eyes. There was no white in them, and they looked the dark color of the storm clouds.

  At that moment Margo understood it was important not to look him directly in the eyes, but it was too late. He reached out his hand and took her wrist and before anything happened, over his shoulder, she saw a wave of water moving up the street from the bay.

  The wave had been at least fifteen feet high and was moving everything in its path with it. She saw her death and knew her little dog in her house was also gone under this movement of water. She was sorry she wasn't with him in his fear and then she was standing in a dark hallway dripping water on dark marble.

  He let go of her wrist and just walked away, and she stood there waiting to wake up. She waited and dripped, and nothing happened. He didn't return, and she moved and seemed to be awake.

  She was only a few feet from what looked like the front door, and if this made any sense at all, she should walk out of here and return to her home. She went to the door that opened soundlessly, and the view was spectacular.

  They were high in a mountainous area on the side of a smooth cliff overlooking a heavily wooded valley. Below were many evergreens and lots of trees with their leaves changing into fall colors that looked like some artist had gone wild with a brush.

  Far in the distance, she could see the tops of buildings with wisps of smoke escaping into the brisk air. Okay, Toto, this wasn't Florida and not even flat Kansas. Where the hell was she and more important how had she gotten here?

  She needed answers, and he had them, so she went back in and went down the hallway after him. He was easy to follow as he left wet footprints and water drops. She soon found one problem, an open door of a closet with the wet coat and shoes.

  Looking around she noticed several doors and the fact that the hallway continued. There were no lights and no windows that she could see, but she decided just to go to the end of the hallway first and then work her way back, in her wet jacket and boots. Maybe he would come out and complain about the mess she was making in his dark home. Or maybe she would wake up and find Cayo, her pet dog, licking her face in the bathroom.

  The end of the hallway was a wide open stairway that went up, so she went up. The second floor was a wraparound balcony with several doors, all of them open and everything dark.

  The first couple of doors she looked into, as she went around the balcony seemed to be bedrooms, but at last, there was a double door open to what looked like a library. Next to it was another double door at what would be at the opposite side of the stairs and seemed to be his office.

  She thought office in her mind, yet it also looked like a mixture of a laboratory with lots of books scattered all over the floor, on chairs, and on top of cabinets. Everything in the room looked like antiques from before the turn of the century. Standing in the wide doorway, she looked around. At least this room had some light in the way of small lamps on a desk and on a couple of stands.

  She didn't want to go into the room until she found out where the man with the strange eyes had gone, so she leaned in and looked from side to side.

  "See any spiders?"

  Margo let out a yelp as she slid forward in surprise with his voice so close behind her.

  The man walked around her and went all the way over to the desk to take a seat. With the lamp at a low level and his head tilted down, she could not see his face. She did notice that his hair was dry so he must have come from his bedroom.

  Now Margo was too far into the office to see the other doors on the balcony area of the second floor. She looked around at the dark ceiling and saw how high this room was, as it seemed to be at least eighteen feet tall. With such little light and the windows covered by heavy drapes, it was hard to tell what might be on the shelves that lined the walls.

  She looked over at him as it looked like he was writing down notes from some large book.

  "Excuse me." She wasn't sure if it was necessary to be polite, but she didn't want to bring on his anger either.

  He ignored her and continued to make his notes. Suddenly, he rose and went to a stack of books on the floor and laid a couple on the top off and picked up the next one to carry back to his desk.

  Margo tried a louder voice as she took a step closer to him. "Sir, my name is Margo. Where am I?"

  He was standing behind that large wooden desk with the curls and designs carved into its sides and legs. He turned pages as if hunting for something.

  Anger was building in Margo and finally she took several heavy steps forward and slammed her hand down on the book to stop him from turning any additional pages.

  He raised those unusual eyes to her, and she almost dropped to the floor. Perhaps she was better just leaving him alone and going out that front door. It wasn't only the eyes or the dark hair. His face was too beautiful in a dangerous way.

  "You are in my home. I do not like conversations. Never again touch anything in this room. You may go anywhere else in this house except my bedroom. The kitchen is in the back on the first floor. You may leave and visit Better, which is the village below. You
will find you cannot leave the valley or this mountain. Now leave me alone."

  Margo slowly drew her hand back from the book and looked at the top of his head as he tilted it to look down at the book and began to turn pages. Evidently, he was done talking to her.

  Totally confused and convinced she had fallen through the looking glass, she began to back out of the room. For reasons she couldn't explain, she hated to turn her back on him. Still, he was ignoring her.

  Once she was beyond his sight, she ran around to the stairs. She was down them in nothing flat and straight through the hallway to the front door. She didn't stop, flying out the doorway and down the gravel pathway that led down the mountain.

  She slowed her rush to a smarter decent down the slope on the rough path that moved back and forth around large rock outcrops down the face of this mountain. She looked up frequently to see the tops of other snowcapped peaks that surrounded this valley.

  The sun was bright, and it felt warmer as she scrambled down. At last, she took a moment to stop and remove the jacket that was now almost dry. She tied the arms around her waist and let the rest hang over her butt and proceeded down the path.

  After another period of walking and feeling warm and tired, she stopped to sit down and take a break. She dug out her cellphone from a back pocket, and it was dead. Margo stared at the black screen in amazement. In all the years she had owned and used various types of units, she had only let a couple run down, but there had always been some type of signal. There was always some light and something to let her know the battery needed to be recharged.

  Now there was nothing, and the screen was black, dead black. Margo shook it, banged it on her leg and pushed a lot of buttons. She popped the back off and took the small battery out and put it back in and checked everything again. It was dead.

  She was angry and wanted to throw it off the side of this rocky mountain, but she decided to be smart and put it back into a pocket. She hadn't worn a watch in years since TV, laptops, computers, and cellphones all announced the time, usually with just a quick look or a flip of a button.