The Aberration Read Online Free PDF Page A

?”
    “What do you think this is, a joke ?”  Something deranged flickered behind Guy’s dark, almost onyx eyes.  Michael realized with a sinking feeling that Guy was insane.  I've been working with a madman who only needed the slightest push to send him over the edge.  
    Guy spoke through tightly clenched teeth.  “Don’t you get it?  Greg is just one part of this.  The ravens, Reese, this storm ?  Think, for Christ’s sake!  This isn’t about some murderer .  Wake up!  It’s... its like…” 
    He paused as if at a loss for words, then slowly blinked and released his death grip on Michael’s collar.  “Sorry about that.  It’s just…”
    “Just the stress.  Yeah, I know.”  Michael resisted the urge to rub his neck.  Guy was stronger than he looked.  Crazy people usually were.
    “Come on, then.” 
    They crept down the stairs to the ground floor and cautiously rounded the corner to the restroom.  Closed toilet stalls had never looked so ominous, even with the lights on.  Michael was almost glad to see that Guy seemed as apprehensive, stooping to check under the doors before entering the locker room. 
    It quickly became claustrophobic as Michael waited on Guy.  No one else bothered to lock their stuff up, but Guy was the exception to the norm on a lot of things.  He looked back and realized that Guy was undressing.
    “What… you brought me down here just to watch you change clothes?”
    He turned his back.  “You know, you’re about the only person who bothers to lock their locker.  What do you have that’s so special?”
    When he turned back around, the sight made his mouth go dry.  “Are those… guns ?”  He realized his voice turned squeaky all of a sudden, but he was too shocked to care.
    Guy had changed back into his street clothes: black cargo pants and a matching T-shirt.  An antique-looking key medallion hung from his neck.  He paused in the process of laying a modified pistol on the bench.  It looked like a customized version of a sawed off shotgun.  Beside it were twin snub-nose .38s.  
    He opened wooden box of ammo and removed a bullet, holding it to the light. The casing was partly transparent, revealing swirling matter inside.  “I really hope that’s a rhetorical question.”
    Michael stared.  “What… what the hell?  Why would you bring an entire arsenal of guns to work every day?” 
    Guy slung the duffel bag over his shoulder.  “Never hurts to be ready.”  He offered one of the pistols. 
    Michael held it gingerly, like a nickel-plated rattlesnake. “Ready for what?”
    Guy looked up from his task of clipping a raven-engraved dagger to the back of his belt.  The blade was almost as long as a machete.  “Killing things.”
    “ Killing things?  What…?”
    Guy looked away, frowning.  “It’s hard to explain.  I’ve been… experiencing… something.  Like… warnings in my head.  In my dreams.  I actually considered that I might be going crazy.  This proves that I’m not.”
    “What the hell kind of explanation is that ?  You’re saying your dreams tell you to carry guns around everywhere you go?”
    “Well… yes and no.”
    “Wha… what?”
    Guy sighed.  “It’s more than dreams.  I think they’re… memories.  Times past that I’ve lived.  It’s hazy, so I’m not sure.  But I remember the darkness.  The evil .  And I remember fighting it.” 
    He motioned to the pistol. “ Have you ever shot one of those?”
    “What the...  -no, I’ve never shot a gun in my life.  Not everyone just carries them around all the time, Guy.”
    He handed the pistol back.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly… I think you’re crazy.  You need help.  You bring me down here and pull out guns like it’s normal.  Let me help you out with something:  It’s not .  We don’t need to shoot anyone.  What we need is to find a way to contact somebody.  A way to get out of here.”
    Guy's eyes