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Chapter 1
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19 March 2009.
0904 hours.
Washington, D.C., United States
It was early in the morning. The city was just coming to life, and people were getting up to start the new day. Kelly Antilles, her husband and two kids were on their way to San Francisco. They made every attempt to avoid traffic, and so made sure to pack the night previous and leave at 6:45 in the morning. Spring break had come early this year, and the family was going to Kelly's parents' house in California. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on their side, and they were just making it outside the city at just past nine in the morning.
They were on the highway, traveling at seventy-five miles per hour, when a car headed the opposite direction suddenly swerved into her lane. Kelly pounded on the brakes in the Plymouth Voyager that she was driving, and skidded sideways, to try to avoid the oncoming car. A Honda Civic hit her from behind when a bright white light enveloped her and her family. Their vehicle fishtailed out of control and went off the side of the road, rolling a few times down a steady hill.
She came to a few minutes later, and instinctively turned around to see if her kids were all right. Never mind her husband, she had to see her children. She saw that Jason was bleeding out of his ear, and both were unconscious, but breathing, and Kelly was relieved. She turned to face her husband, only to find that the door had been ripped off and that he was missing. The door was nowhere in sight. Leaves were blowing into and out of the minivan. It was strangely quiet, considering that she was on the highway. She looked back over to her side of the vehicle, and realized that they were not on the highway any longer. Still dazed, she thought she saw her husband standing up on a hill not too far away. "Jake...?" she whispered.
* * *
20 March 2009.
0104 hours.
Between Melbourne and Sydney, Australia
Andrew Russell was on his way to Sydney from Melbourne. He had to be there in the afternoon for a business meeting. Being one of the more prestigious politicians in the nation, he had to attend. He had decided, however, to take the long route. On his right was the beach. It was quiet. He noticed there were no birds out, no sea gulls. There was no real sound. Just the lapping of the waves on the shore, the distant roar of water out in the deep ocean, against the dark, midnight blue sky. It was clear, except for a few clouds. The South Cross was clearly visible straight ahead of him. He watched it for just a moment, and as soon as he let his eyes off the road completely, an incredibly bright white light surrounded him. He was thrown off the road, and onto the beach.
A few minutes later, Andrew came to, and he was bleeding from his ears. There was a dull ringing. His car was flipped over, and he was still inside. The hood was crunched in, and the top was fairly smashed, as well. "Damn," he said, "I'm going to be late for the meeting." And he promptly passed out.
* * *
19 March 2009.
1404 hours.
Marseilles, France
Alec DuMont had restlessly been trying to sleep. He was the night security guard at the Marriott in Marseilles. He was also the most feared. Since he had been hired, there had been little trouble in the hotel. What very few people knew, however, was that this was because he was a telepath.
All throughout his sleep, Alec had dreamt of the Arc du Triomphe, the Llouvre, the Eiffel Tower, and the Notre Dame Cathedral, then a bright light, which was followed by nothing. Emptiness. He woke up in a cold sweat, thankful that his wife had taken her trip home to Madrid, Spain. He stood up in his boxers, and made a move toward the bathroom to clean up. He was grateful that he had the night off. He got halfway to the doorway to his bathroom when the windows on one side of the room suddenly flew open while the windows on the adjacent wall shattered from the outside in. A strong wind knocked him to the ground, and he landed on his butt and his elbow, and slid back about a foot, scraping skin off his forearm. He sat there, knowing what had happened, his toned body glistening with sweat and blood. "Fuck."
* * *
19 March 2009.
1604 hours.
Alexandria, Egypt
Aswad Isa and Omar Alwafai were in bed, having the time of their lives when all of a sudden, there was a bright light from their eastern window. They stopped what they were doing, and lay still. Suddenly, the window shattered, spraying both men with tiny shards of glass. The light was so bright, even if from so far away, that they were momentarily blinded. The bed moved, ever so slightly, but enough to make a small creak and groan.
When they were able to see again, they looked at each other with frightened eyes, and lay down again. Aswad said to Omar, "What will happen, now?"
Omar looked away and quietly replied, "We go to headquarters. And wait. And pray."
* * *
19 March 2009.
1404 hours.
Edinburgh, Scotland, United Kingdom
Darren Montgomery had been taking a late lunch break, and was on his way back to work. He was a few minutes early, but that could be good or bad, depending on who was the boss for the second half of his shift. It was a partially cloudy day, so when a bright light appeared, he assumed the sun was coming out of the clouds, and he reached for his sunglasses. But when a car veered off the road ahead of him, he said, "What in the bloody--!" He almost didn't notice the car in front of him stopping, so he slammed on his brakes, swerving, and was blinded in the same moment. Not being able to see what he was doing, he turned the steering wheel sharply to the left, to avoid any other cars that he might run into, and landed in a ditch.
He woke up a little while later to the sounds of ambulance sirens and someone tapping on his window. "Sir? Sir, are you all right in there?" a woman's voice asked. When Darren realized that it was the voice of the person at the window, he opened his eyes and mumbled incoherently in response. He gazed a glassy-eyed stare at the blonde-haired, blue-eyed paramedic for a second or two afterward, and passed out again.
* * *
19 March 2009.
2304 hours.
Seoul, South Korea.
Phong Nguyen had been walking home after a late night out on the town. Sure, he had had fun, what with all the girls and drinks and all, but he needed to go to work in the morning. He was just beginning to walk past a park when he heard a low, distant rumble, but he passed it off for thunder, as the sky was overcast. When it lasted too long for normal thunder, he looked up, curious.
In the moment that he looked up, he was blinded by a great flash of light. It was like it enveloped him, swept over him, encompassing everything. He took a step back, and then there was an aftershock, throwing him to his face on the ground. He tumbled for a few moments before he was able to get up. He started for a nearby hospital, and after thinking about all the possibilities of what it might have been, all he could do was shake his head and say, "Shit..."
* * *
19 March 2009.
2004 hours.
St. Petersburg, Russia.
Aleksandr Petrovich was just about to leave the lab when Olga Boriskova made an astounding discovery. "Sergei! Aleksandr! Come, look at this!" Sergei Lipinski and the other bio-geneticists were working on reading the human genome. They had apparently happened upon some incredible evidence--telepathy was, in fact, real. It wasn't always hereditary; it was a mutation occurring here and there due to defects in DNA strands, but it was real.
"Hurry! Record the information!" Sergei commanded.
"Computer, download findings," Aleksandr ordered to the computer. Then, to the others, cheerfully, "Do you know what this could mean?"
"Files... downloaded," stated the robotic voice of the computer as the building began to shake. Things fell off of shelves, flasks shattered on the ground, things clattered and clanked as they knocked against each other. A fluorescent light flew down from the ceiling, hitting one of the monitors on the table, throwing it to the floor.
"Get down!" Olga yelled. The commotion commenced. "What--what was that? I didn't think we could get earthquakes here," she whispered.
"I don't know," said Aleksandr softly.
"But," Sergei said, smiling, "we have our evidence, safe and intact."
* * *
20 March 2009.
0204 hours.
Kyoto, Japan.
Aki Oro and Hikari Yurimoto sat in their apartment, discussing the assignment that was due in the morning. They were graduating in two months, both with a degree in nuclear engineering. Things were definitely different since the end of the second Persian Gulf War, and although electronics was not the favorite subject of either woman, they managed to pull through every electronics class before this, and they were determined to make it through their last one.
"Finally!" Aki cried, exclaiming their success in finishing the project.
"Yes, we're done," replied Hikari. "And in only two months' time, we've only one more project. Just think..."
And that was when the windows blew open, and the building began to shake. Glass shards were sprayed all over Hikari and Aki's bodies, minorly piercing their skin here and there.
"Cover it!" yelled Aki.
Hikari threw a blanket over their project, and as soon as everything died down, said, "I wonder what that was?"
"I don't know," Aki responded, looking at Hikari, concerned, "but I don't like the looks of it. At all."
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~ver
;_:
I knew it was from someone posting a topic on this board, but I had forgotten who. 
